Blindness (19 page)

I nod again and squeeze him tighter, buying
into everything he’s saying. Somewhere in my mind, I knew it was
coming, but despite the alarms in my head, my stomach still drops
into my feet when Trevor slides down on one knee in front of me and
reaches into his pocket.

Things are suddenly blurry, and my eyes are
swimming in tears. I’m holding my hands over my mouth when he opens
the box and shows me the gigantic diamond ring. I feel sick, my
body almost on the verge of convulsing, but I manage to hold it all
inside while he speaks.

“I bought this before I knew about the job
here in Washington, and this isn’t exactly how I wanted to ask, but
I just can’t wait any longer,” he says, his hands shaking with
nerves as he pulls the silver ring from the black velvet and holds
it out for me between two fingers.

A ring. Such a simple thing—a piece of metal
and a stone—it’s what I’ve wished for, for months. Yet staring down
at it has me wishing it away. My mind is racing, and somewhere
inside I’m rejecting this. I ignore the battle playing out inside
my heart and act on autopilot, reaching forward so Trevor can take
my hand.

What am I doing
? I don’t know why I’m
giving him my hand, so willingly, but it’s the right thing to do. I
can’t imagine not giving him my hand. He slides the ring on my
finger, and the metal is cold against my skin, the giant rock
strange against my thin fingers. Suddenly my hands look like
someone else’s entirely.

“I’m hoping you’re saying
yes
to me,
Charlotte. I can’t think of anyone else that I’d rather have as a
partner in this world. Will you make me the happiest man on earth
and marry me?” Trevor’s eyes are anxious, his breathing still, and
his mouth caught somewhere between a smile and surprise.

I’m no longer in control of myself. It
happens so fast, but the “Yes” fleas my lips, and Trevor is
spinning me in circles, my towel sliding to the floor. He carries
me to the bed and kisses my body everywhere, devouring me in every
possible way like I’m a cherished prize that he’s just won.
For
all of eternity.

I don’t feel when we make love. I don’t
feel…anything. I’m not even sure that I breathe, and I don’t
remember the last time my lungs were full. I’m starting to think
that this is my new normal, how I’m going to exist for the rest of
my life—numb.

I must be smiling, because Trevor’s smile
doesn’t falter the entire night. He shares our news with the
Sumners at the theater, and they hug me and congratulate us, and I
smile and nod and say my lines. Such a happy moment—one of life’s
most important—and I feel like I’ve just traveled three years in
the past back to my father’s funeral. Everyone’s face is too close,
people are laughing and smiling and toasting with wine at the
after-party for the play. The music and chatter is mushing together
in my ears, becoming this melded noise that has me wanting to
escape.

I’m suffocating.

It’s only when I sit down to catch my breath
and lean forward to put my head between my knees that Trevor
notices something is off.

“Babe, are you okay?” he says, his hand warm
on my back, but his touch repulsing me right now. I manage not to
flinch and just reach up to pull my hair to the side.

“I think…I think maybe it’s the wine,” I lie.
It’s not the wine. I’ve barely finished a glass, and I can hold my
liquor. But I’m not about to tell Trevor his proposal has sent me
into a life-altering panic attack from which I think I may never
escape. No, I can pretend for him.

“Let’s get you home,” he says, reaching for
my coat and purse, and pulling me up against his side. He’s so warm
and familiar, and part of me relaxes for a moment. The cab ride is
thankfully peaceful, Trevor stroking my hair while I lay my head on
his shoulder.

He gives me privacy in the bathroom while I
change for bed, and he doesn’t even balk at my quick goodnight as I
turn out the lights. For the first time in hours, I’m breathing.
Barely, but breathing. I’m clutching the blankets to my chest,
facing the window away from him, and blurring the stripes of light
that are bleeding into the room through his blinds. Trevor’s
breathing has become quiet, and I start to relax even more,
thinking that he’s asleep now, and I can worry openly on my own
until the sun comes up.

“My dad helped me pick the ring,” he says,
his voice a knife in my back. I shut my eyes tightly at his words,
and my opposite hand reaches up instinctively and twists the ring
from my finger, squeezing it—almost like I’m attempting to destroy
it. I hate this ring. A small tear forms and slides down my cheek,
and when I feel Trevor’s hand slide along my shoulder and back, I
jerk.

“I’m sorry, were you asleep?” he asks, his
voice close. I squeeze my eyes tight again.

“No, I’m awake,” I say. I’m short, and I know
my tone is going to make him ask questions.

“Is something wrong? You sound…you seem
angry,” Trevor says, almost a whisper. I’m sweating, and the lone
tear on my face has now been joined by a few others. I sniffle a
little and wipe my eyes dry, sucking in a deep breath as I push for
courage.

“It’s your dad,” I begin shaking the second I
start. I know this is one of those conversations that you can never
erase. There are so many things racing through my head, but there
was something about hearing that Jim was involved in Trevor’s
proposal that set my course in this direction. I owe it to
Cody.

Trevor is sitting up now, the light flipped
on by his bed. I roll over to look at him, but slip the ring back
in place first. This is going to be hard, but I know it might just
ease some of the tightness in my chest.

“What about my dad?” Trevor says, his voice
slow and steady. He doesn’t sound angry, but he’s far from happy. I
sit up to face him, meeting him at eye level.

“Trevor…what all do you know about your dad’s
relationship with Cody?” I say, gripping at the blankets next to
me, squeezing them for strength.

Trevor’s reaction isn’t a surprise. I see his
body get rigid the second I ask my question, and I know his
defenses are up. “What did that lying piece of shit tell you about
my father?” he asks, his nostrils flaring. I reach over to touch
his hand, but he pulls it away, looking down at my hand like it’s
the enemy. Maybe it is.

“Trevor, I know you don’t want to hear this.
I know it’s going to be hard for you to hear, and hard for you to
believe, but I’m asking you to…for me,” I say. His eyes slide up to
meet mine, and they’re wild looking. His face has me rattled, and
I’m fighting against my instinct to scrap this all and just tell
him I’m being silly. But I can’t. And I know I can’t because of
Cody. “Trevor, your dad’s having an affair.”

“Bullshit!” he’s loud now. He stands and
walks to the other side of the room, and his body is still while he
faces the wall. I can’t read him, and I’m not sure if he’s going to
storm from the apartment or punch a hole in the closet door, but I
know he’s angry.

I push on. “It’s not, Trevor. I promise you.
It’s not,” I say, sliding closer to him, but staying on the bed,
the blankets around me somehow making me feel safe.

He turns to face me, his eyes red, and his
mouth in a hard line. “Yes, it is,” he sounds so cold when he says
it. Part of me is glad he’s angry; it’s going to make it easier to
tell him the rest.

“I know you don’t want to believe me, but I
promise you. And there’s more…” I start, but wait to see if he’s
going to let me finish. He doesn’t blink, but he doesn’t move
either. “He owns the loan on Cody’s garage, the one his dad left
him. And he refuses to let up. Trevor, he wants to sell it out from
under him.”

Trevor shrugs and rolls his eyes, clearly
unaffected by Cody’s bad fortune, which spurs me on even more. I
stand now and grab his wrist, forcing him to look me in the
eye.

“Listen to me, Trevor. It was his dad’s—his
dad
! That garage? That’s all he has left…in the whole
goddamned world. And Jim wants to knock it down, rip it away from
him, destroy it,” I’m begging him to understand me, hear the words
I’m
not
saying. Trevor knows enough about Mac, even without
the details about my nightmares and fears, to know what this means
to me. Surely he has to understand why something from your dad
could be so important.

I feel like I’m winning, his tension waning
in his arm, and I let go, hoping he’ll come back to bed with me and
hold me. But the second I leave him, he’s gone. The door slams
shut, and the only sound left is the whirling of the heater in his
small apartment.

I collapse back on the bed and pull the
blankets up into a ball around me, my fists ripping at them. I bury
my face in the pillow and scream. I can’t stand the feel of this
ring, and I pull it from my finger and throw it hard against the
wall and listen as it clanks along the floor.

I know I won’t sleep tonight, so I don’t even
try. Instead, I close my eyes and visualize the stars.

The ones in Cody’s bedroom.

Chapter 10: Hear Me

The sun doesn’t come for hours, and the
minutes tick by slowly. Trevor’s building is quiet, and every noise
has me convinced, believing it’s him—that he’s come home. But it
isn’t him—it’s never him.

I shower. I dress. I sit at the edge of the
bed, staring into my packed suitcase. I’ll wait to zip it up. My
flight doesn’t leave for six hours, but sitting here in Trevor’s
empty apartment, alone, feels like a cruel type of isolation.

God, why did I have to bring up his father?
And why didn’t he believe me? And why did I say
yes
?

It’s that last question that’s eating at me
most. Here I am, looking at the ring still sitting in the middle of
the floor, in the very spot I threw it last night. That ring, that
FUCKING ring! Only a few short months ago, I wanted nothing more
than to slip Trevor’s ring on my finger. But now it felt like a
shackle. And as much as I don’t want to say it’s Cody, so much of
it is.

I can’t take it any more. I pick up the ring
and slide it into my pocket, zip up my bag, and leave the note on
the center of the bed.

Went home.

That’s all I could think to write, and even
that felt empty. Home—ha! I don’t even truly have one; the
Appleton’s house has
never
felt like
home
.

I hail a cab and am off to the airport
minutes after locking Trevor’s apartment behind me. I couldn’t even
go back if I wanted to now—forcing myself to leave. The trip to the
airport goes fast, and the desk girl is accommodating with my
situation. Of course, I lie and tell her I need to go home on an
earlier flight due to a death in the family.

My fingernails are almost down to the
sensitive part of the skin, yet I bite them more. I keep looking
down the walkway to all the gates, half expecting Trevor to come
running up, to try to stop me. I wonder if he’s even made it home
yet? He’s not expecting me to leave for a few more hours, but I’m
curious just how far he’ll push things.

They call my flight to board, and I feel the
strangest sensation wash over me—it’s not panic, but rather exactly
the opposite. It’s more than calm. It’s decision. And I feel a
sense of pride that I stood up—for once in my life—and did
something.

Wanting to get home quickly, I take a seat at
the front of the plane so I can exit first. The little girl next to
me is flying alone, and she looks nervous about it.

“Hey, I’m Charlie. What’s your name?” I ask.
She looks up from her backpack, which she is clutching to her
chest. She reaches her hand out hesitantly to grab mine.

“I’m Sophie. Nice to meet you,” she says, her
words quiet and the most rehearsed form of polite. She must be
going through finishing school. I look down and notice her shiny
buckle shoes, which she’s kicking back-and-forth with nerves.

“So, Sophie. Is this your first time on an
airplane?” I ask, trying to get her mind off of all the preparation
happening around her. The attendant comes by to check on her and
nods at me with a smile, thankful that I’ve taken
this one
on, I think. Sophie finally nods
yes
to me and gives her bag
a tighter squeeze.

“Okay, well, I have good news for you. I’ve
been on, like, a hundred flights,” I say. Truth be told, I’ve been
on maybe a dozen flights, but in Sophie’s world, that might as well
be a thousand. “That’s why I get to sit next to you. I get to be
your buddy, just for the flight. How does that sound?”

Sophie nods with a faint smile, and I can see
her grip loosen on her bag, just a little. I nod at it and ask her
what’s inside. She zips it open a little and pulls out a panda bear
and a big coloring book with a box of crayons. I pull them into my
lap quickly.

“This is perfect,” I say, trying to stave off
the worry I see in her face that I’m going to take her bear away.
“Let’s keep these out and tuck your bag right here, under this
seat.”

Sophie lets me store her bag and reaches for
her bear. I help her make a pretend buckle out of the extra strap
leftover from her own, and we tuck her book and crayons in the seat
flap in front of us.

I keep talking to Sophie through the entire
takeoff process, and when I’m pretty sure she’s become comfortable
in the air, I pull out her coloring book and help her set it up to
color on the tray.

“So how old are you, anyways?” I say, joining
in on her urging to color the grass green on her farm picture.

“I’m seven,” she says, reaching into the box
to pull out a purple, which she uses on the sky. I don’t know why,
but her gesture makes me smile.

“That’s pretty,” I say. She stops and looks
up at me, smiling back.

“Thanks. That’s what color the sky is back
home,” she says. I sit back to think about it, and she’s sort of
right. When the sun is setting, and there are clouds in the sky,
everything is rather purple. It was always purple in Louisville,
and for that small moment, I miss home—my
real
home. I smirk
and lean forward to keep coloring, but as I do, the ring falls from
my pocket and drops to the floor. I pick it up quickly, and I’m
instantly sad that I almost lost it.