"I wasn't making a decision for you. I intended to bring all the information to you. To tell you what my plan was — to inform you. The only thing I did was delay in telling you. How could I hide a surgery from you when it requires your participation? It's the honest to God's truth, Joy. I only delayed in telling you because I had so many good things planned for Christmas. We had so many party and dinner invitations. I wanted to take you shopping, so we could buy for our friends together. You know … Christmassy stuff." I smile when I hear her giggle.
Tucking her in closer to me, I close my eyes and wrap my arms around her where we both succumb to contented sleep.
Sometime during the night, however, I roll over and feel nothing but emptiness when I know I fell asleep draped around a warm body. Stretching my arms out in the darkness in search of her, I sit up when I don't feel her with me.
Turning on the bedside lamp to verify that she is not in bed, I find her in the small living room of the cabin.
"What are you doing sitting in the dark?" I ask just before she bursts out laughing. It takes me a minute to catch on before I begin to laugh, too. When I glance down at her lap, she's balancing a coffee mug on her knee along with the binder I gave her earlier this evening.
She's reading the study.
"Joy, before you say anything, I have something to tell you." She gets a panicked look on her face. "It's nothing bad. I just want to tell you that I don't want to do the surgery anymore."
I jump when the cup she was holding on her knee drops to the hardwood floor, spilling the little bit of liquid left inside. Taking the few steps to the kitchen, I get a paper towel to wipe up the mess and take the book from her.
"I've given this a lot of thought, babe. You are so well-adjusted in your life, and here I walk in and try to change it. It's not right of me to do that. It was purely for selfish reasons only. If you’re happy with your life, then who am I to mess all that up for you?"
"But, Matthew—"
"I watched you today, Joy," I say taking her face in my hands. "The first thing you did was learn the rooms and it took you only an hour. You now know where you are at any given moment. I find that a miracle in itself. I mean, even when you and I are having a conversation, you move about the room, and know exactly where you are. So, not only are you focused on me and what we are talking about, you are also keeping track of where you are at all times. That's fucking amazing."
"You know what's involved in teaching the visually impaired because you teach it at your Institute, right?"
"Yes," I mumble, and when my cell phone rings, I look at the clock on the wall. It's one-thirty in the morning. This isn't good. A ringing phone this early in the morning never bodes well.
"Hello," I say warily.
"Matthew, it's Dad. Son—"
"Is it Mom? Oh, god, Dad—" I panic, and Joy is at my side in an instant, holding onto my arm.
"No! No, nothing like that, she's fine but, Matthew, it's Joy's apartment. It caught fire this evening," he chokes. "Matthew, Conrad wasn't there, was he?"
"No, he's here with us. Hang on, Dad, I'm putting you on speaker, so Joy can hear too," I explain as I pull the phone from my ear and place the call on speaker so he can explain to her what's going on.
"Joy, my dad has called to tell us ... that your apartment ... it caught on fire tonight." News like this is best said outright, no point in trying to smooth over it.
"What? What? How? … what? …" she stammers, tears beginning to form.
"Dad, what do you know?"
"Well, everyone's been trying to call Joy's cell phone, but there's been no answer. Laura called here looking for her. The apartment manager phoned her because she's Joy's contact person. It appears someone threw something through the window, and that's what started the fire. Hopefully, it’s contained by now — Lillian, I'm telling them …" I hear my dad say before my mom gets on the phone.
"Joy, dear, is there anything I can do? I mean, I know you have a lot to process right now, but if you need anything, anything at all, you call me. Do you hear?"
"Yes, Lillian, thank you," she sniffs.
"Mom, let me talk to dad."
"I'm here, Matthew. They don't know what happened or who did it. It's under investigation," he explains. "I think you kids need to stay there for a few more days. I will take care of things here. Do you want me to give the authorities your phone number, Joy?" he asks.
"Um, yes, I guess. I'm sure I’ll have to talk to them, won't I, Matthew?"
"Yes. They’ll need a statement from you. Dad, will you explain to the police about why Joy and I are out of town? Don't give them our location yet, though. Of course, you and I know who did this, and you can tell them about why we believe it's her, okay?"
"All right, son. Try to get some sleep, and we'll talk again in the morning. Your mother and I will go over to the apartment tomorrow and take a look around if they'll let us in."
"Joy, dear, do you need anything?" my mother yells in the background.
"If she needs anything, I'll get it for her, Mom," I answer for Joy. "Thanks for calling. Call me when you get back from looking at the apartment."
"I will. Joy, we're sorry this happened, honey."
"Me, too, Leland. Thanks," she mumbles, as if in a trance. I'm sure the shock of losing everything is setting in.
"I want to go home in the morning, Matthew. I should be there. It's my responsibility, not your parents'."
"Joy, let my parents do this. I don't think it's a good idea that we go home yet. You know who is responsible, right? You know it was Emma. This is why I got you out of town early to begin with. I knew she would try something, and she did. Please? Just a few more days? Let my dad see what he can find out first, all right?" I plead. Clearly, Emma is trying to get to me through Joy, and I won't let her near her.
"Okay, but in a few days, all right?" I place her hands on my face and nod, kissing the tear away that escapes down her cheek.
Tucking her under my arm, we walk into the kitchen together where I lift her onto the counter and prepare us both a cup of Sleepy Time tea. While the kettle heats on the stove, I position myself between her legs and hold her close to me, rocking to help soothe her anxiety.
"All my equipment, Matthew," she says quietly. Silent tears fall down her soft cheeks.
"All replaceable, baby, but you’re not. I thank God you weren't there."
"I have an emergency plan. Conrad warns me of any dangers, and he helps me escape. It's part of his training, but still. If the fire is as devastating as it sounds, I don't have anything left. The water damage alone will destroy anything the fire doesn't."
"Again, all replaceable. You have insurance, right?"
"Yes, all the paperwork is in my safety deposit box at the bank," she replies.
"And, of course, you’ll stay with me," I suggest.
"I'll probably stay with Laura until I get my own place. I don't want to intrude on—"
"Um, Joy, Jessie told me the other day he was planning on asking Laura to move in with him."
"Oh, well, maybe I can stay with Brian for a few days."
"What the hell, Joy? What? You don't want to stay with me?" I demand, frustration building.
"The last time I stayed with you, it didn't end well. I … kind of liked being there and then all hell broke loose. When it was time for me to go home, I didn't like it. It hurt not having you around me all the time, and … I missed you."
"Aw, baby, come here," I say, bringing her into my arms and holding her until the kettle starts to whistle. I move to make our tea and continue to talk to her.
"I want you to stay with me. I kind of like having you around, too, plus, it's going to be a while before they either rebuild your apartment or you find another place. Can we see how it goes? You never know … you may not want to leave me again." I say, placing our mugs on the counter before pulling her in for a heated kiss.
"Do you think we're ready for that, Matthew? I mean, it's only been a few months."
"I know I want you with me and I miss the hell out of you when you aren't there. I think of you when I wake up, and you are my last thought when I sleep. You invade my dreams. I want to call you all day long. I'm not going to do the surgery. You don't want it, and you don't need it, and without that doom and gloom hanging over our heads, yeah, I'm ready."
"Matthew?"
"Yes." I stop when she calls my name.
"I want you to do the surgery.”
Chapter 8
Slowly waking to the warmth of his body as his arms fully envelope me, I didn’t realize how much I missed this. I also realize that during the time we were apart, he has claimed my heart, body and soul.
"You awake, baby?" he asks in a soft voice.
"Mm … just enjoying waking up next to you," I answer just as softly. Then my head pops up from my pillow.
"What? What is it?" he asks with concern in his voice.
"Why didn't I hear my phone ring last night?" I wonder out loud.
"Did you leave it at home? I don't recall seeing you with it at all yesterday," he replies, trying to help me determine where it might be. "Do you think you left it in the car?"
"I don't know — I'll go look." I move to get out of bed, but his arm locks around me, holding me next to him.
"I'll look and start the coffee," he volunteers. "You rest."
"No, I can't. I need to check my messages. I'll get in the shower." Throwing the blankets off me, I count my steps from the bed to the bathroom.
After dressing, Matthew has a mug of coffee waiting for me next to my phone he must have found in his car.
"Thank you," I say quickly, while pressing keys on it to retrieve my messages, of which there are twenty-three as well as eighteen texts. Taking my first sip of coffee, I moan at the flavor, and get busy listening.
"They’re mostly from Laura. She doesn't have any news outside of informing me of the fire, and that the authorities need to talk to me." I listen further, and when I get to the last one, my phone slips from my grasp.
"What?" he asks, moving quickly to pick it up. He replays the message over the speaker.
"Tell Matthew he better start returning my calls."
I listen as Matthew runs down the hall and back again.
"What's going on, Matthew?" I ask nervously.
"I'm calling my attorney." I can hear the frantic pushing of the keys on his phone.
"Matthew," I hear a voice say over the speakerphone.
"Timothy," Matthew begins, "I'm sorry to bother you over the holidays, but Emma left a threatening message on Joy's cell phone early this morning, and last night someone set fire to her apartment."
"Good lord. Was anyone hurt?" Timothy asks, his voice thick with concern.
"No, I had taken Joy away for a long weekend, so no one was in the apartment. I know it's her. Her message to Joy was that I had better start returning her calls."
"Okay, let me look into this, Matthew. Can you come to my office next week? I have some ideas I want to run past you anyway."
"Yes, how about Wednesday?" Matthew suggests.
I feel like I'm starring in a bad made-for-TV movie featuring the emotionally disturbed Emma Ford. What in the world is she doing? Does she think she can force Matthew to her side? This is ludicrous.
Shaking off my litany of internal questions, I get up from the stool to feed Conrad, who has been patiently sitting at my side.
"Are you hungry, boy?" I ask, bending down to give him some love. He licks my cheek in response.
"Do you need to go outside?" I ask after hearing him jump around. After I let him out the front door, I can hear Matthew talking in low tones in the background while I prepare Conrad's dishes.
"Okay, I'll see you next week then," he confirms before placing the phone on the counter.
"I had hoped to spend New Year's here with you, baby, but we need to get home sooner than expected," he says, taking me in his arms, resting his chin on my head.
"Should I be worried?" I ask, raising my face to him.
"Maybe not worried, but cautious, which is why I want you to stay with me, all right? I need to know you are safe and I can't protect you if you’re at Laura or Brian's house."
"I understand," I acknowledge, walking to the door to let Conrad in. "I'm going to make a few calls. I need to call Laura just so she knows I’m okay and I need to tell Mr. White about my equipment as well as letting him know I may not be able to complete the project on time — if at all."
"Okay, I'm going to call my dad," he replies.
We both find ourselves in different parts of the cabin making our calls, then meet in the kitchen for another cup of coffee when we’re finished.
"What did Mr. White say?" Matthew asks, sitting next to me at the breakfast table.
"He's concerned and very upset that I'm in danger with Emma. He told me not to worry about the books and just to do what I need to do. He also gave me some good leads on new equipment because I'll need to start over again. Probably time I upgraded anyway and he agreed. I'm just glad I sent in the last chapters that I translated the morning before we left town."
"We need to talk about our living arrangement, Joy," Matthew blurts out.
"What do you mean?" I ask, knowing very well where this is going.
"You know what I mean. I want you to move in with me, baby," he says softly.
"I know you do, but don't you think it's a little too soon for that? I mean, we just went through a very difficult time and only started talking about it yesterday."
"Joy, I can explain to you the practical reasons why you should move in with me, but the real reason for me is because I love you and want you with me. I want to begin and end my day with you … every day. Do you not feel the same way?"
I listen to the sincerity in his voice and can't help but feel the same way he does, but something is telling me it's just too soon.
"We haven't even discussed the surgery issue yet. I mean, we've touched on it, but we never settled anything. I think we should do that before we make decisions like this. I will agree to stay with you temporarily, though, at least until I get a new place or rebuild."
I know he doesn't like my answer, but it's the best I can do right now. We need to work out a few kinks first.
"I hope they condemn the place," he says, taking me in his arms, holding my head to his chest.
"Secretly, I do too, but the logical side of me is winning in this." My words muffle against his chest. "We just have a few things to work out first before I can make that decision."
"Dad said that the exterior of the building is pretty damaged. The fire has destroyed your apartment as well as damaged some of the surrounding ones. No one is allowed in the building, so you’re stuck with me anyway."
"I wouldn't want to be anywhere else, Matthew," I whisper, lifting on my toes to place a gentle kiss on his cheek.
"Good, but it's my intent to keep it that way." He kisses me back and gives me a tight squeeze before pulling away. "Let's forget all this drama and go for a drive, shall we?"
"I'd like that. Can we take Conrad with us?" The rapid jingle of dog tags tells us that he heard his name and something fun is about to happen.
"Of course we can. I was on the internet this morning and found out that there’s a winter craft fair in town all weekend. Do you want to do that? We can stop for breakfast before we go," he suggests.
"I love craft fairs," I confess shyly.
"Okay, then. Give me fifteen minutes to get cleaned up," he says, pulling me in for a kiss that turns heated within seconds.
"You keep that up, doctor, and we won't make it to town, let alone the car," I say, my breathing already labored.
He smacks my bottom before turning toward the bedroom. “Is that a threat … or a promise?” he asks seductively. I shake my head in response.
“Go. And hurry,” I yell after him.
While Matthew showers, I clean up our coffee dishes and prepare a water bottle for Conrad to take with us. I the
n gather his leash, our hats, gloves and coats, placing them near the door. I sit at the counter and my mind wonders to what might have happened if I were home when the fire started. I'm certain Conrad would have alerted me, but anything could have gone wrong. I don't know what I would do if I lost him. Mentally, I begin running through a list in my head of all the things I’ve lost, when my phone rings.
"Hello," I say, suspecting it's the police wanting to question me. I was wrong. Very wrong.
"Well, if it isn't Joy Johnson."
Emma.
"You've been a busy girl, Emma. What did I do to honor the attention you've given me these past few weeks?"
"Not much. I want you to get it through the thick skull of that boyfriend of yours that I want to be a part of the coming-out party when he does your procedure."
"Emma, I'm not sure how you got my phone number, but for some reason, you think I’m here to help you scheme and play secretary for you. There’s nothing I can do to convince him to want to talk to you." Matthew steps up behind me while I’m speaking, and I turn in his direction and whisper that it's Emma on the phone. He immediately takes it from me, putting her on speaker.
"Emma, you outdid yourself this time, burning Joy's apartment and all," he says calmly. "Do you think your scare tactics are going to make me share with you?"
"Fuck you, Matthew. All you have to do is have me by your side when you reveal the study. There's a reason for all of this, and you are just my pawn," Emma finally admits, sounding more evil with each word.
"Are you upset that you didn’t harm Joy? Was that your intention? You want to talk to me? All right then. Why don't we set up a private meeting for Thursday?"
"How private?"
"Just you and me."
"Deal. I'll call you with the details of where to meet. I've been wanting you in my bed for ten years, baby. Let's do it," she says before hanging up.
It nearly turns my stomach listening to him set up a meeting with her, but I trust that he knows what he's doing. I just don't want her polluting the air he breathes.
"Matthew?"
"Oh, don't you worry, baby," he says warmly, taking me into his arms. "I have no intention of letting her vile fingers touch me. I have a better plan, but I need to talk to Timothy on Wednesday first. Now, let's go get some breakfast, shall we?"
I See You (Seeing You #2) Page 11