Clarity 4

by Loretta Lost

  “Yes. I drove to the next city while you were sleeping and searched three bookstores, but I finally found it. Would you like me to read a little to you?” he asks me. “We were thinking that it might be able to jog your memory.”

  “What genre did I write?” I ask curiously.

  “It’s a thriller,” he explains. “A damn good one at that.”

  “A thriller? That’s a bit disappointing. I always thought I’d write real literature.”

  “It is real literature!” he says defensively. “If it weren’t for this story, I never would have wanted to meet you. I never would have tried so hard to drag you out of solitude.”

  “Okay,” I say curiously, getting comfortable. “Tell me a story, Boyfriend.”

  Liam smiles at me before taking a seat and peeling open the pages to begin reading. "After three years of marriage, it became clear to me that neither of us were getting out of this alive. It was either me or him. I could see it in the way his eyes burned through me with such seething hatred when we crossed paths in the corridor. I knew that he was planning his move. I just had no idea it would be so soon, or so despicable in nature.”

  I close my eyes and let Liam’s voice wash over me. The sound is calming as he reads evenly and with perfect precision.

  “I should have been more prepared. I should have fought back a little more. But he was my husband, and I couldn’t imagine hurting him. Once, in the beginning, we would smile and kiss when we passed in the corridor. Now, there is only hate. I don't know what I did to make him hate me so much. But he is the one that made the mistake: when he tried to murder me, he didn't finish the job. He tried to take my life, but the accident only left me blind and horribly scarred.”

  “Although I've lost my vision, I've gained my freedom, and I see more clearly now than I ever did.”

  "Wow," I whisper softly. "That's a pretty good start. Kind of gripping."

  "Do you want me to keep reading?" Liam asks.

  "Yes, please," I tell him softly. "I would love to hear what happens next."

  Liam smiles at me, a quizzical little smile. "In some ways, it's a blessing that you've lost your memories, isn't it?"

  "What do you mean?" I ask him, but I do somewhat agree.

  "Everything is fresh and new. You get to experience your own writing from the perspective of an outsider. That's kind of awesome. Maybe you'll finally be able to be a little objective and see yourself the way I see you."

  "And how do you see me?" I ask him curiously.

  "Personally, I think you're brilliant," Liam explains with a shrug. "But you're very modest and humble about your writing. You like to rip apart your own work and sabotage yourself. I feel that you don't let yourself be half as great as you could be."

  "Oh?" I ask softly. "You think I could be great?"

  "I know it, Helen."

  We smile at each other for a moment. There is warmth and familiarity in his hazel eyes that makes me feel like I know him. I suppose, I do know him. Or at least, I did. Liam is so kind and thoughtful that I can already begin to see what I saw in him. I feel like I am in reach of some small measure of perfection.

  If I can just sort out the fogginess in my mind, I could have a happy ending.

  A knock on the door and a cleared throat alert me to the presence of my father.

  "Dad!" I say in greeting. "How are you doing today?"

  "Much better now that my little bird is starting to heal up," Dad says softly. "I was so worried about you, sweetheart."

  A smile pulls at the corner of my lips. "I'm perfectly fine, Dad. Just a little bruised here and there, but nothing I can't handle. Boyfriend was just reading my book to me. Apparently, I'm not such a terrible writer."

  "You always had a vivid imagination and a way with words, Helen," my father says as he moves closer. Placing a hand on Liam's shoulder, he smiles down at the younger man. "Son, will you give me a few minutes alone with my daughter?"

  "Sure thing, Richard," Liam says as he rises to his feet. He sends me a private smile before exiting the room.

  I look after him with a slightly giddy feeling in my chest. I definitely think that I will have no trouble learning to love Liam again. According to the doctors, my memories should be back soon, but in the off-chance that they don't return, I think I could be cool with living like this. It's not so terrible.

  "Helen, I need you to be cautious around that boy," my father says as soon as Liam has left the room. He moves to my side and grasps my arm. "Liam's heart is in the right place, but he does have certain... weaknesses."

  "Weaknesses?" I ask curiously. Of course. A man that perfect must have some kind of fatal flaw.

  "He's greedy," my father explains. "And ambitious. He's willing to trample almost everyone to get to the top, including you."

  "Isn't ambition a positive quality? And I wouldn't stand in his way..."

  "Liam isn't capable of feeling happy. I don't know what's wrong with him, but he will always want more. Right now, things are exciting. You've been in an accident, and he has to put in some effort to get you back. But once you're his, and things settle into a comfortable rhythm, he always gets unsatisfied. He always gets... bored."

  "Bored?" I repeat in shock. I am not sure why I find that word so upsetting. I almost would have rather heard anything else.

  “His career is more important to him than anything else, or anyone else,” my father explains. “He might be focusing all his attention on you right now, but it won’t always be that way. Liam gets easily obsessed with other pursuits. He tends to neglect you.”

  I turn this word over in my mind, and it doesn’t make sense. Neglect? That same guy who was just in this room? My super sweet boyfriend? “He doesn’t seem like the type, Dad.”

  “Well, that’s because you’ve just met him, little bird. You can’t remember the terrible things he’s done. I’ve known him a lot longer than you, and I felt a warning was in order. Just be careful, Helen. I don’t want you to get your heart broken.”

  Frowning, I can’t help wondering whether my father is just being overprotective. According to what everyone has told me, I was previously living with Liam. I wouldn’t have done that if he was a bad boyfriend, or dangerous in any way—would I? Would my dad have let me?

  But then something occurs to me. The story of the woman in Blind Rage whose husband grew to hate her so madly: did I really write that before meeting Liam? What if I wrote that book because of him, as a warning to myself to get away?

  Is Liam capable of doing the things that the woman’s husband did in the story? Is Boyfriend really not such a great guy after all?

  “Be careful, honey,” my father says softly. “Just take some time to get to know the guy again before you get in too deep. I know you really like him, but he might not feel the same about you. He was your doctor, and he performed surgery on you. He’s used to taking care of you as a patient, and seeing you as a burden. I’m not sure that he can appreciate you for the wonderful girl you are.”

  “I want to give him a chance, Dad,” I tell the old man quietly. “He’s been so nice to me. It really feels like he cares. Will you please let me decide whether I can handle his flaws?”

  “Of course, sweetheart. But I don’t want anything less than the best for my little girl.” My father smiles sadly as he brushes some stray hair off my cheek. “I know that you haven’t had as much experience with men as Carmen, sweetheart. Maybe you should play the field a little! Learn about what you like and don’t like. I could introduce you to a lot of fine young men. Don’t just get attached to the first man who pays you any attention. No good can ever come of rushing into things.”

  “Don’t worry, Dad,” I tell him softly. My father has always been very wise, and I will keep his advice close to heart. Maybe a trial period, or some kind of probation is in order. If I can throw the worst I’ve got at Liam and he still sticks around, I’ll know that he’s for real. “I’ll try to keep my distance and figure out just who this boyfriend of mine is
before deciding whether or not I should trade him in for a newer model. But for the moment, he seems pretty swell.”

  Chapter Nine

  After a week in the hospital, I’m finally well enough to be discharged.

  Well, maybe not completely well enough, but I couldn’t stand to be in that place for another minute. My knees are sore as Liam guides me across the hospital parking lot, but I ignore the pain. I am just so excited to be up and about, and getting some fresh air again. I can’t wait to put this hospital far behind me, and I am eager to never visit its miserable halls again. I think I feel more strongly about this hospital than people who were bullied feel about their high schools. My memories simply weren’t returning as soon as the doctors expected, and their therapy and rehabilitation was leaving me frustrated.

  “Are you ready to see your new house?” Liam asks me with a smile.

  “I’m ready to see any house,” I answer earnestly. I thought it was very considerate of Liam to suggest taking me to a private cabin in the woods to allow me to recover. He’s also taking a lot of time off work to stay with me. I wouldn’t mind going home and being with Carmen and Dad, but the idea of a rustic, romantic retreat is nearly irresistible. I’ve never had someone to take me on a romantic retreat before.

  As Liam helps me climb into his car, I wince at the pain. Once I am properly seated in the passenger seat, I look up at him slyly. “Before we check out the cabin, I have an important errand to run first.”

  “Oh? What’s that?” he asks.

  “I need wine,” I explain with a grin. “Lots and lots of wine. Can you help me with that craving, Boyfriend?”

  “Sure thing,” he says chivalrously, bowing forward from the waist. “I am not the kind of man who would ever deny his woman her wine. However, are you sure that’s what your body needs when it’s healing? Maybe we should grab some milk and orange juice, too.”

  I roll my eyes a little. “Wow, Boyfriend. I didn’t realize I was dating an old man!”

  “Hey,” he says with a bit of hurt in his voice as he fastens my seatbelt. “I’m not an old man. I’m just a doctor who puts your health above all else.”

  “My mood is very important to my health, and getting some wine in me ASAP will improve my mood,” I assure him. “I am hankering for a good Pinot Noir—there’s this really great Australian one from 2006. Innocent Bystander? That name always makes me giggle.”

  “There’s another you like even more than that one,” Liam tells me as he begins driving. “The 2012 Beaux Freres Pinot Noir is pretty amazing.”

  The date makes me a little uncomfortable and I find myself stiffening. I can’t believe I’ve forgotten three years of wine production and keeping up with the popular trends. I will have no idea what’s on the market, and when we walk into that liquor store, I will be virtually useless.

  “Maybe a Malbec,” I say softly. “I really like the Achaval-Ferrer 2007.”

  Liam nods. “You were also excited about this new winery that released its first wines in 2013—I think it was the Hand of God from 2010?”

  I’ve never heard of this winery, and I clamp my lips shut tightly. I am really annoyed at myself for forgetting all this potentially amazing information.

  “Why are you thinking about Pinot Noirs and Malbecs anyway?” Liam asks me with concern. “Those are the wines you usually drink when you’re in serious work-mode. You can’t be writing up a storm right now, with all your injuries. We should get some of your relaxing wines, such as a Merlot and Shiraz.”

  I’m more than a little surprised that he knows this about me. I don’t even know if I know this about myself. Is it even true? Are those tastes and habits I have developed over the years? Or did I always feel that way? I am suddenly a little worried that I won’t know my own palate, and I won’t be able to properly select any food or drink until I figure myself out all over again.

  I try to force a smile at him. “I’m not sure what wines we should get,” I admit with a bit of embarrassment. It’s a little frightening to be so oblivious in an area where I used to be the boss. “Maybe I’ll just let you choose.”

  “We can both choose a few,” he suggests. “If we get a large enough selection, we will always be sure to have the perfect wine.”

  “Okay,” I say softly. “And I guess we can get some milk and orange juice too. You’ll need it for when you get hangovers, old man.”

  Chapter Ten

  Holding the elegant wine bottle in my hands as Liam drives, I find myself fascinated by the pretty label and the gold lettering. Although I am an expert at tasting wines, I have never actually seen what a bottle looks like. The exterior is just as enchanting as the interior, if not more so. It might only be so bewitching because it’s novel to me, but I suddenly understand that metaphor about a kid in a candy store. Once we got to the liquor shop, I found myself swept away in the beauty of all the glass bottles, each label like a little book cover, enticing you to try the contents.

  I assume that judging a bottle by its label is just as foolish as judging a book by its cover, but how can you resist? Some of the labels were so gorgeous that it simply didn’t matter to me what year the wine was from, or how well it was reviewed, or what competitions it won. I simply wanted to stare at all the pretty lettering and soak up all the visual pleasure that has always been denied me.

  “I wish I knew the words to describe all these colors,” I say dreamily.

  “You used to know them,” Liam tells me. “You taught yourself using paint chips.”

  Leaning back in the chair blissfully, I hug the wine bottle against my chest. I wish I could open it right now, but I will probably have to wait until all the medication is out of my system. “I will have to decide whether it’s best to wait until I can remember the colors, or to teach myself all over again.”

  “Just enjoy it for now,” Liam recommends. “You don’t need to know the name for everything. If it’s aesthetically appealing, and it gives you pleasure, then that’s enough.”

  “But if I don’t know how to describe it all... then how can I write about? How can I give others pleasure?”

  “You don’t. You’re still healing, and you need to just relax and focus on getting better.” Liam reaches over and touches my leg. “Hey, Helen? Look around. You’re missing all the scenery!”

  It is difficult to tear my eyes away from my wine bottle, but I am stunned to see that we’ve left the dreary city and have been plunged into a sea of green—at least I think it’s green. There are mountains and forests, and all the things I’ve always dreamed of seeing. Leaning forward to gaze up at the magnificent trees, I sigh in contentment. Are they oak? Spruce? Ash? I need to learn those names too.

  "This is spectacular," I breathe as we drive through the heavily wooded path. The road feels different now as the perfect pavement has turned into rough gravel beneath the tires of Liam's car. The large, majestic trees lining either side of the road are hanging their branches over us in an almost welcoming fashion.

  I can't remember ever having seen trees before, but they look even more grand and stately than I had originally imagined. Their thick, sturdy trunks are surreal in the way that they tower over us like unmovable pillars. The fragility and strength of their intricate branches mesmerizes me as I gaze up into the canopy. I can see the new buds of spring beginning to touch their slender fingers.

  Somehow, being able to recognize what everything is in the world around me gives me a sense of pride. I feel like I have been well-prepared for real life by all the books I have read, and all the descriptions I have begged for over the years. I also feel grateful to my imagination for filling in the blanks for decades, and supplying me with the glorious images that I craved.

  But Liam's right; nothing can compare to the beauty of reality. Nature really is the greatest artist. I feel like I was never really alive before this moment.

  It’s strange to think that if I had never been given the ability to see, I never would have experienced any of this.

&n
bsp; Turning to look at the man in the driver's seat with admiration, I try to find the words. “Thank you,” I tell him softly. "You gave me all this."

  Liam laughs lightly. "You've already thanked me dozens of times, Helen. Trust me, I did very little."

  "Maybe from where you're sitting, it doesn't seem like much. But from over here—you've changed my whole life."

  "Well, that goes both ways. You've changed mine," he says quietly.

  I study him carefully for a moment, trying to figure out why he seems so sad underneath the surface. Is there something wrong that I'm missing? Something that I don't know about? Thinking of all the possibilities makes my head spin.

  "We're almost there," Liam says as he turns onto an even smaller gravel road. "You know, Helen, this place is completely off the map. You sure know how to pick your secluded cabins."

  "Is that it up ahead?" I ask, squinting my eyes to try and see better.

  "It certainly is. See the GPS? It’s showing that our destination is at the end of a dead-end street."

  I glance briefly at the map on his dashboard, interested in all the cool gadgets I’ve never been able to use. However, the looming house up ahead is far more exciting. I don't know exactly what I was expecting to see, but the warmth of the little rustic cabin immediately fills me with joy. I find myself leaning forward in my seat so that I can peer through the trees and better see the little house that I will soon call home. At least for a little while. "It's perfect," I say finally. "I just hope that there's a fireplace."

  "There is," Liam says. “I stopped by the cabin to fix it up and clean it out while you recovered. I think you’re going to love it. I did all the manly things that were required, like fixing faucets and setting mouse traps.”

  “Mouse traps?” I say in horror. “Why on earth would I buy a cabin that was already occupied by rodents?”

  Liam laughs softly. “You wouldn’t. It’s a perfectly fine cabin. I was just teasing you.”

  “I see,” I mutter in relief. “Thanks a lot, Boyfriend. You have done your manly duty of raising my blood pressure.”