by Chloe Liese
He looked a bit uneasy, now that my eyes could pick it up. “Is something wrong, Zed?”
“Hm?” He jerked his head up from staring into space and met my eyes. “No, no, nothing’s wrong per se…”
“Per se?” Fear hit me powerfully. Elodie? Had something happened to her, because I’d been holed up in this funny house, driving myself insane with learning how to be blind? “What the hell does that mean?”
Zed sighed. “Okay, so do you remember our charity gala?”
“Christ, mate. I totally forgot. It’s when?”
“Tonight, actually. And that’s mostly why I’m here. Do you think you can come?”
I balked. “I hardly think HRH will let me. I feel dreadful though, I certainly had planned to support it. Elodie and I both were…”
Saying her name hurt. I wanted to ask a thousand questions about her, but I bit my tongue. It wasn’t Zed’s job to be go-between for us, and if she were working as hard as she had been when I left, he probably hadn’t even seen her much at all the past month.
Zed dragged the chair closer. “You’ve been given leave to exit the premises for the span of one night, according to your commander. And I’d really like you to come, Lucas. You know the point of it is raising funds for affordable accessibility, and maybe that hits a little too close to home right now, but I hope not. Nairne and I want you there.”
My heart warmed. “When you put it that way, I’ll come.”
Zed’s face fell slack with relief. “Good, okay. Good.”
“Zeddy, have you missed me?”
“I’m not going to lie—London’s boring without you shaking it up.” He sat forward, set his hands between his knees. “Okay, now the big whammy.”
“What?”
“Would you speak at it?”
“Speak at what?”
“The gala. We want you to speak. Because, see the focus is on kids, right? On making their homes and playgrounds and schools accessible, and you’ve had this…disease since you were little. What if you could encourage them? It doesn’t need to be long, or particularly poetic, just—”
“I’ll do it,” I said.
You bloody idiot.
I hated talking publicly about anything except numbers and business intelligence. Why the hell had I said yes? Because the man I was trying to become would do exactly that—pipe up and show a few sweet children that there’s more to life than their disability, and that practical adaptations make their life extremely accessible and socially integrated.
“I will,” I said, more to myself than Zed.
Zed stood, set a hand on my shoulder. “Thank you, Lucas. I know it’s shitty of me to come ask you to do anything more than survive Noli right now—”
“I heard that,” she said.
There in the threshold stood HRH Reynolds, the holy terror. I threw on the occlusion glasses like a well-trained animal and stood. “Permission to speak, Commander?”
“Permission granted, Captain.”
I could hear Zed’s eyes roll. “Jesus.”
“Nah,” Noli said. “I’ll take a lot of praise-worthy names, but Jesus is my limit.”
Zed chuckled dryly. “Maybe you do have a soul after all, Noli.”
I heard human contact and a grunt. Probably a punch to the shoulder.
“Fuck,” Zed grumbled. “How is someone that small that strong?”
She hacked a cough and walked my way. “I’m a walking miracle, Zed. As I was saying, it’s not because I’m reverent. I just like using Jesus’s name too much otherwise. If it’s mine, it loses its wham-bang effect.”
“Blasphemous, blasphemous woman,” I said.
Her arm threaded through mine, and I knew she was smiling up at me. “You know it. Now let’s lose this puttanesca pain in my ass, Thor, and get you ready for that party.”
I laughed so long, I cried. And for the first time in a long while, I smiled.
Thirty
Lucas
Ballrooms were a bit trippy with sight like mine. I stared around, my vision telescoped to a clear view in the center with a haze of blurred colorful splotches near the perimeter. It used to irritate me, then as it worsened, infuriate me, but after nearly five weeks with the occlusion glasses and using a long cane, wandering around in total darkness, I had a deep appreciation for everything I could see now.
Rather than noticing the infernal dark spots, the warped edges, I saw the beauty of contrast, the breathtaking view of kaleidoscopic colors and dimensions that still filled my eye. For the first time since I’d sunk into the truth of what lay ahead, I experienced a moment of immense gratitude rather than grief.
“Not too shabby, for an old man.” Zed grinned, pulling me in for a back-slapping hug.
“Yes, at first I thought it was all the anti-aging creams, but now I’m starting to think I just can’t see my wrinkles anymore.”
A small, amused laugh bubbled out of Nairne who stood beside Zed. She looked lovely and tall in an ivory gown.
Zed frowned darkly. “Those kinds of jokes are not funny.”
“Oh, they’re very funny,” Nairne said as she released Zed enough to give me a hug hello.
“They’re vital, Zed. If I can’t laugh…” I shrugged, patting his shoulder.
I was bumped by somebody outside my vision to the right, which made me turn. Now I could see I was holding up the line. Embarrassment tightened my stomach.
“I’ll be on my way,” I said, moving down so the receiving line could proceed. “Talk later.” I smiled, then turned and headed toward the bar.
G-and-t in hand, I savored its herbaceous bite, the delicious nip of bubbles at my nose, but took my time because I was fast learning that alcohol was not the poor-sighted fellow’s friend. I lost my balance and orientation much faster, and at this point in the game, especially while meandering alone, that was plain dangerous.
I was about to find the wall and circumnavigate the crowd when I heard the timbre of my father’s voice, as well as Mum’s sparkly laugh that showed up when she got a little flustered. Glancing over my shoulder, I squinted, trying to place them. They were leaving from the receiving line. I was a bit stunned I hadn’t noticed them not far behind me, and unease, a familiar companion, crept over me. It was bloody unsettling to be so ignorant of your surroundings. I frowned into my drink, contemplating throwing it back and getting pissed after all.
“Lukey!” Mum cried, leaning into me and planting a heavy kiss on my cheek.
“Mum, public function,” I said with a smile, giving her a squeeze and kissing her hair.
“Right, sorry, love.” Procuring a hanky she wiped her lipstick off my face. “Oh, darling, you look dashing.”
“Thanks, Mum—”
“Not quite as dashing as that Zed. Whew, oh my.” She fanned herself. “But you’ll do.”
“Honestly, Charli.” Dad rolled his eyes and clapped me on the back. “You look well, Luc, like you’re taking a bit better care.”
“Trying, Dad,” I muttered into my drink as I took a sip.
“And you’re all done with that training? So you can straighten things out with Elodie?” he said.
I stared into my drink. “That’s the plan.” Who was I kidding? I hardly had a plan other than hope. I wanted her, I knew that. But I’d just spent weeks being confronted with the breadth of my limitations. She needed to hear them. Then she had a decision to make. I wasn’t relishing it.
I threw back the remainder of my drink and clenched my jaw as it burned going down. I’d ride this buzz for a while. It would buy me numbness without making me trip over my feet. Dad and Mum had been chatting while I’d zoned out, but my show of draining my cocktail drew Dad’s attention. He eyed my empty tumbler, then me.
“What have you? The usual?” he said as he began to back away toward the bar.
“Gin and tonic, yes, but I won’t have another, so don’t on account of me,” I called. He waved me off and turned. Mum peered around, admiring the room.
“It�
�s absolutely lovely here,” she said. “How did they manage this? It is their first formal event, isn’t it?”
“They’ve been inundated with support, Mum. It’s fantastic, really, and they’re quite heavily invested themselves. I mean, you know what footballers make.”
Mum peered about the room more, as if she were looking for someone. “I always thought it was absolutely ridiculous how much you got paid to stand in a box and get a ball booted at you.”
“What an eloquent summary of my career, Mother.” I sighed. “Sometimes I wonder how I have as checked an ego as I do, but then I spend ten minutes with you and it all comes together. Vividly.”
Mum smiled genuinely at me. “Raising you how I did kept your head on straight, gave you perspective.” She sighed, looking me over. “You know I’m immensely proud of you, that I’m only teasing. You deserved to be paid well—maybe not that well, but well enough—for all the years you put into training, and really, Lukey, for a good long while you were the best.”
I stared into my empty glass. “Yes, Mum, I know. It’s all right.”
“Oh, I’ve made you maudlin, darling. I’m awful, aren’t I?” Mum groaned, threading her arm through mine.
“No, I had a rather good head start on you before you arrived.”
“What is it, my love? I thought things were on the up?” Mum looked me over, concern pinching her features.
“I’d say they are, but it’s still sort of…good and bad moments. This night feels different. It’s my first time out after weeks being shut away, isolated from all this sensory input. I didn’t even know you and Dad were here, yet you weren’t at all far away from me.” I shook my head. “Really, forget it, it’s fine. I’m—I’m glad you’re here, and Dad. I think it’ll be a splendid night.”
Mum stared at me, debating before giving over a slight smile. “All right then, but you know if you need anything tonight, your father and I are right there for you.”
I smirked. “What every late-thirties man going stag wants to hear.”
“Smart-arse,” she muttered, swatting my arm. “And don’t bring up a sore subject, leaving her alone at Christmastime. I’m trying to like you tonight.”
“Ah, fair. I retract my statement. Though I’d ask that the record show it’s not yet Christmas. I do have some time to straighten things out with Elodie, hopefully.”
Mum squeezed my arm as her eyes teared up. “Really, Luc? Oh, it would be the best Christmas present ever.”
“Easy, old girl. Let’s just get me through this night, then I’ll figure out how I’m wooing Elodie before you serve me up as Christmas dinner.”
Dad walked up, Mum’s favored wine in hand and his own g-and-t.
“Cheers, Luc.” He clinked his glass against mine softly, appraising me over the edge of his tumbler as he drank. “You all right?”
“I’m fine, yes, Dad. I’ve already had it from Mum, so leave it alone, please.”
“Crotchety as ever,” he mumbled, staring about. His eyes narrowed, and he shook his head as if trying to clear it.
Mum peered around me while I glanced over my shoulder, trying to follow his line of sight, but I saw nothing in the blur of haze and shadows.
“What is it?” Mum asked, turning her attention to Dad.
Dad extracted a hanky from his pocket and dabbed his forehead. “Nothing, just a trick of the light. Shall we?” He gestured our way, and into the main ballroom we went.
We were seated at a table quite near the front, a luxury and a place of honor since tonight’s event was live musical and dance performances by artists and children with disabilities. It was brighter here—well-lit by the stage lights without them glaring in your eyes, and I could see it all clearly. I fought a swell of emotion at my friends’ gesture, their thoughtfulness in placing me where I could savor the night, rather than struggle with it. I cleared my throat thickly as I sat down.
Over the next half hour I stayed nearby, nursing my ice gone to water, feeling confidence and ease in being tethered to my place. Rather than walking around, milling about tables with chair feet begging for me to trip over them, I found I was able to enjoy reconnecting with a number of familiar faces, some business, others social, and some with the potential to be both as I stood at my chair and essentially let the conversation come to me.
As more people took their seats, Zed escorted Nairne to their table next to us, which they shared with their guests of honor, child ambassadors as they called them, who were either patients or former patients of the local children’s hospitals. Two of them would be speaking, and the other two performing. Brando, Zed’s father, was at their table as well, talking with one of the children and looking exactly how Zed would in twenty-five years but for their difference in eye color. Teo sat to his left, chatting and smiling at another child ambassador while shifting in his seat and tugging at the collar of his tux. But for his diminutive friend, Teo was undoubtedly wishing for a gym or his pile of medical textbooks rather than all the pomp and circumstance. Presumably Gianno was home with Jamie, since he neither liked busy environments nor minded watching Jamie whenever he could.
Our table consisted of my parents and Gina, along with Grace and James Patterson, friends of Mum and Dad. I’d told them about the foundation, since their grandson was deaf, and they’d mentioned they’d welcome supporting any initiatives relating to accessibility and normalization of disabilities. We also had a chair for Kai if and when he decided to grace us with his appearance.
“How are things at Farthington?” James asked.
“Dad’s the man to ask,” I said. “I took a month away for health reasons. But last I heard, we ended the year brilliantly.”
Dad nodded. “That we did. Lucas set us up well. And he’s picking up after the new year.”
“God willing. It’ll be in much thanks to Gina over here.” I nodded toward where she sat timidly next to Mum. “She keeps me in order and makes the whole place run smoothly.”
Gina blushed furiously. “Hardly,” she mumbled.
“No, dearie.” Mum smiled, patting her arm. “You should take the praise when it’s heaped on you. These Edwards men, it’s like feast or famine—you’re their goddess or their gremlin, depending on the day, so soak it up while you can.”
My stomach sank when she said that. I knew I could be tetchy and a bit difficult. But was that what Elodie thought of me for leaving her briefly to sort out blind life? Was Elodie here? If she was, I had yet to see her, and the anticipation was driving me mad. I should have manned up and called her after Zed left, but I’d been thrust into readying for the night unprepared, cobbling together what I wanted to say, scrounging for a tux. Beyond that, I was struggling with what I’d say to her, how I’d put the grim reality of the future to her, and pray she’d want me anyway.
Besides, there was a chance she wouldn’t come—that she’d be so exhausted from work she’d not make an appearance. I’d get this over with, gather myself tomorrow, then throw myself at her feet and hope against hope Elodie still loved me despite what lay ahead and how I’d acted leading up to this.
Keep telling yourself that, you tosser.
I rubbed my forehead and wished I’d refilled that drink after all.
Regina swallowed nervously, fiddling with her necklace. “It doesn’t bother me—I know Mr. Edwards knows everybody inside out at Farthington. Even on his surly days, he cares about all of us.”
“Careful, Gina,” I hedged, standing up. I needed a breather. “You’re going to make me sound affable. Wouldn’t want to ruin my reputation!”
I left their dying laughs, walking backward out of habit as Dad hollered some joke at my expense. When I realized the foolishness of what I was doing, I turned, narrowly avoiding crashing into Kai.
“Wotcher.” Kai grinned. He faked a jab, making me startle, the idiot.
“Christ, Kai, I’m half-blind, remember?”
“Sorry, Luc,” he said morosely. “I completely forgot. That’s terrible, isn’t it? I’m an a
rse.”
“No, it’s fine. I’d rather you forgot than thought of it constantly.”
He smiled with relief and took a sip from his old fashioned, which was in one hand, mobile in the other. I frowned at him. “Why’s your mobile out? You’re at a function, surely work can wait a few hours.”
He leaned to pocket it. “Was just about to. I was on call, only got off now—that’s why I’m late.”
“Never heard that excuse before. You see our table, I assume.” I clapped his back and made to move past him, but he stopped me, hand on my shoulder.
“Hang on, who’s that?”
I glanced over my shoulder and followed his line of sight. “Who, Gina?” I scrunched my nose.
“The fiery-haired pixie with the tiny waist and the brightest smile I’ve ever seen?” Kai swallowed loudly, pulling at his bow tie.
I frowned. “I would have said my timid, undernourished, albeit kind and well-meaning ginger secretary with a propensity for blushing that rivals a private academy virgin.”
“That could be an uncharitable description, I suppose,” he whispered, eyes fixed on her.
I shrugged. “I care for her dearly. She’s a good person who’s been through some horrible shite. I just personally don’t see the…physical appeal. She’s also young, so there’s that.”
He smirked. “No bother to me. I’m not old like you, Luc. And I’d rather my brother didn’t find the woman I’m eyeing up attractive.” Kai glanced over to me as my words processed, looking worried. “Wait, what did you say? Something happened to her?”
I shook my head. “Not for me to say the details. Essentially she was in a bad spot with her now ex-husband. Abuse, alcohol, you know—”
“What?” he growled.
“Steady, mate. You haven’t even met her, and you look like you could murder something.”
“Men who do that should be offed,” he muttered hotly.
“Right,” I said, stunned by his intensity. Kai was easygoing, the happy do-gooder. Overbearing toxic male was my wheelhouse. “Well, um, go for it, just don’t say anything asinine or slip your hand up her dress, because I’ll be buggered if she quits on me.”