Blindness (29 page)

I squint and sit up to look at him, a little
embarrassed that he’s caught me again. I half-smile and shrug.
“Yeah, I’m a little lost today…sorry, I thought you left to take
Kyla home?” I say, looking around Cody’s legs, hoping not to see
her.

“Not yet. She’s…upstairs,” he says, gesturing
behind him. I swallow hard realizing what he means. She’s in his
bedroom, and he’s out here, which probably means she isn’t decent,
or she’s in his bed, or in his shower…waiting.

“Stop,” Cody says, almost like he can read my
thoughts. “She had to print some things from her email is all. She
has a shoot tomorrow and needed her schedule.”

He squats down next to me, his hands buried
in the front of his hoodie, and his hat low over his face. I laugh
lightly and look away as I lie back down.

“What’s funny,” he says, sitting down
completely now and pulling his knees in.

“You, you’re funny,” I say, biting my lip
with a half smile, a little worried about offending him with what
I’m going to say next. “You were so out of your element in that
suit. How long did it take you to run upstairs and change, like two
minutes?”

“Thirty seconds,” he says, stretching his
legs out and laying down next to me. My fingers tingle on instinct,
but I don’t reach for him. “Seriously, I actually jogged across the
driveway and up the stairs so I could change.”

We’re both laughing, and when we stop, the
silence feels thick, like we both have so much to say, but too much
in the way.

“So, it went well?” I ask, already knowing it
did, but wanting to hear Cody’s version of the day.

He smiles at me, leaning his head to the side
to face me, then bites at his cheek before finally speaking. “Yeah.
Somehow, I think it went well,” he says.

“Come on, you have to have faith,” I say, and
Cody laughs. I push at him with my hand, his arm hard and warm
under the softness of his sweatshirt. “What? There’s nothing wrong
with being an optimist.”

He pushes back, and I think he’s mocking me
at first, but he leaves his hand slightly on my arm. “You’re right,
you’re right. I’ve just…well, let’s just say I’ve gotten used to
Jim shitting all over me and my dreams; I might be a little
jaded.”

I nod in understanding, but all I can think
about is how close Cody’s hand is to mine, how we’re barely
touching. And then he leans into me again, for the briefest
moment—my body tremors.

“Your desk…” Cody says. He doesn’t know how
to finish, and I don’t know how to begin. My eyes tear at just the
mention of it.

“He was trying to be nice,” I say, swallowing
hard on my emotions.

“Yeah, I know,” Cody says, finally giving in
and reaching for my fingers now. At the slightest touch, I grasp
for him, my hand hungry for his, and he holds it tightly,
reassuring me. “Thing is, though, as much as I don’t do suits,
neither do you, Charlie. And Trevor? He’s all suits, and ties,
and…modern furniture.”

I close my eyes from the bright sun. I’ve
told myself everything Cody is saying. But no matter what my heart
wants, my head has me stuck. I feel responsible—loyal. “So, Trevor
wants to go out tomorrow night, all of us, and celebrate your
deal,” I say, trying to change the subject.

“Oooooooh, where we going?” her voice is like
a phone-sex line, and it’s so fucking disruptive, I actually jar my
neck when I sit up with Cody to look at her. He’s on his feet in
seconds, dusting off his jeans and moving toward Kyla.

“Sorry, I thought you’d be a while. I was
just catching up with Charlie,” he says, almost like he feels
guilty at getting caught with me—like he has something to hide.

Kyla holds up her schedule, I’m pretty sure
just to brag about her fancy itinerary, and smiles. I take
satisfaction in the smudge of lipstick on her teeth, until Cody
notices it too, and actually reaches up and helps her find it. She
proceeds to suck on his finger, and the entire scene has my stomach
turning. I lay back and put my arm over my forehead.

“But I heard you say we’re going out
tomorrow? Where? You know I don’t get done with my shoot until
seven or eight,” she says, making our celebration for Cody all
about her.

I’m so disgusted by her, that I can’t keep my
silence. “Oh, well, I’m sure we’ll be able to work around your
schedule. We wouldn’t want to celebrate Cody without
you,”
I
say, logging away my mental notes to tell Jessie later.

“Oh, good. Thank you,” she says, and even
though I’m still not looking at her, I can sense the bitchiness in
her tone.

“Alright, well, just let me know the plans,
Charlie. We’ll be there,” Cody says, and I can hear them walking
off. I know he’s trying to separate us because I made it awkward.
But right now, I don’t give a fuck. I came out here to be alone, to
talk to Mac, and to cry over losing the only material thing left in
my world that’s really anything like me. And if fake-tits and
cherry-lips is offended, she can kiss my ass.

“Ta ta,” I say, almost enjoying my rare bout
of swagger.

I’m so angry that I spend the next 30 minutes
talking to Mac in my head about Cody and Kyla, mostly Kyla. Even
though my blood is boiling and my pulse is shot through the roof,
I’m thankful that I’m not feeling sad—at least for the time being.
I know as soon as I go back to my bedroom and see the metal desk
sitting where my dad’s used to, I’m going to feel like I’ve been
sucker-punched all over again.

The clouds are moving in, and I know another
storm is going to roll through tonight, so I don’t risk it this
time and pack up my blanket to head back inside. I’m still
muttering to myself when I hear my phone buzz. I pull it from my
pocket and stop the second I see a text from Cody.

I know it hurts.

But there is more Mac in you than just some
old piece of furniture—and you should show those parts off more
often.

They’re…beautiful.

Chapter 15: This Is Charlie

It’s pouring.

No, scratch that. It’s sleeting.

The weather outside is miserable, and it’s
felt like nighttime most of the day. Trevor came home late from
drinks—I counted it a blessing, because I laid in my bed all night
holding onto my phone, typing and deleting a response back to
Cody’s text.

I fell asleep long before Trevor made it
home, and I woke up well before him this morning. I escaped
downstairs, hoping to see Cody at the backdoor, his empty mug for
coffee in his hand. But his truck was gone, and I cringed thinking
that there was a chance it never came home last night.

Not really wanting to spend the day
pretending to love my gift from Trevor, I decide to work on my
drawings of Cody’s shop some more. I fill up a travel mug with a
fresh brew and leave Trevor a note on the counter. I’m not hiding
from him; I’m just not waiting for him either.

Jake’s is all locked up when I arrive, and
I’m almost surprised not to see Gabe in one of the bays working.
His work ethic was admirable—he often put in more hours on a repair
than Cody did. Jessie said it was because of how much he felt he
owed Cody. But I also think a part of Gabe loves being here,
working here, with his best friend.

Not wanting to get soaked, or ruin my
drawings, I decide to make a workspace out of my front seat. I
spread my pages on the dashboard and open my box of pencils. I’m
inspired by the way the place looks in the rain, the lights off and
the parking lot downright abandoned. I start to sketch, and my
first few drawings are bleak, if not beautiful.

Then I’m struck with the idea; I make a copy
of my first drawing, the very first one I did of the shop—with a
little extra love and attention. I pump more color into the neon,
freshen the greens of the garage, and brighten all the whites. I
keep the rain in, but fill the parking lot with customers. It’s the
ultimate before-and-after, and I realize I’ve drawn Cody’s
dream.

I line the drawings up against my windshield,
the rain blurring the background just enough that you can still
tell what it is, and I take a picture with my phone.

I just finished these, and I thought you
might like to see them.

I send them to Cody and hold my breath,
hoping he’ll be pleased. My phone buzzes and I’m surprised by his
quick response at first, then notice Trevor’s name. I don’t even
deny the disappointment I feel.

Hey, are you still at the shop?

It takes me longer than it should to respond.
I think about lying, but I decide against it.

Yes, but I’m coming home soon. No one is
here.

My guilt makes me add the second part,
reassuring Trevor that I’m alone.

Yeah, Cody’s here. We were just wondering
when you’d be done. We’re going out to that new club in the city. I
got us all reservations at a restaurant first, though. Think you
can be ready to leave in an hour?

I’m envisioning driving off the road,
crashing my car into a tree. Not crashing so hard that I hurt
myself, just enough to inconvenience my evening, give me an excuse
to avoid it all.

Yeah, I can do that. Be there soon.

I gather up the drawings and tuck them away
inside a cloth in my bag to make sure they’re safe from the rain.
I’m driving down my familiar route home when I have a sudden urge
to stop at one of the large department stores at the mall on the
way. I’m not much of a shopper—as is evidenced by my very dull and
dated closet. But Cody’s words have been playing in my head all
day.

“There’s more Mac in me…”

I wonder what those pieces are, and how do I
uncover them?

I run from the parking lot into the nearest
entrance and start to load up my arms with every outfit I see,
honing in on the things that look nothing like me, or at least the
me
I’ve been. I frighten the meek assistant working in the
women’s department with the sheer volume of garments I throw over
her arms on our way to the dressing room. She seems a little
nervous that I’m going to ask for multiple sizes of every last
piece I bring in.

The denim skirt with the cowboy boots is the
first up. I like the look, it feels flirty and country—very
Louisville—but it’s not me. The animal print dress is next, and
that one just makes me laugh. Too Vegas!

Within minutes, my feet are buried in a sea
of failed attempts, and I’m down to only a few more hangers.
There’s a short black skirt with a sheer white blouse and an
extremely tall pair of black heels. Normally, I’d shy away from the
heels, because of my fear of falling and the height they would add
to my already tall frame, but I’ve got a strange sensation brewing
in my gut—I feel like this,
this,
might just be
me.

I slide the skirt up and tuck the top in
next. It’s sophisticated, but it also screams of sex appeal. It
says that I’m confident, and that I’m not afraid. But it also says
I’m mature and not out for games. I put the heels on last, and I
turn to look at myself from all sides.

Oh my god, this is who I am!

I don’t even pull the tags off. I gather up
the discarded items and pile them on the table outside the dressing
room. I find my shy store clerk and ask her to cut the tags for me
and ring me up. She’s raising an eyebrow at me, but I just peer
down at her from my nearly five-inch advantage.

Two hundred dollars later, I’m back in my
car, my hair a little moist from the dash back to my vehicle, but
my blouse barely wet. I threw in a fake leather jacket at the last
minute, and I’m glad, because my look won’t work tonight if it’s
dripping from rain.

The humidity has my hair curling more than
normal; I pull it loose from the knotted tie I had it in for most
of the day and fluff it out around my shoulders. I work on my
make-up at stoplights and finish off my lipstick in the driveway. I
see Gabe and Jessie standing at the front door, and I recognize the
Sumners’ car pulling up behind me. I feel my pulse kick up with
nerves; I wasn’t aware that we were
all
going out
together.

But I’m glad everyone is here. I want their
reaction; I’m actually excited. Jessie’s walking over to me, so I
take a deep breath and open my door to get out. When she stops in
her tracks and grins ear-to-ear, I know I did good.

“Damn, girl!” she whispers, walking up to me
and looking over everything. I pull the umbrella out quickly and
tuck her underneath with me.

“This rain is going to wreck everything,” I
say, opening the jacket a little to reveal the shear blouse
underneath. I have a white silk shell on, but there already isn’t
much left to the imagination. Adding water would be a lot like
pornography at this point.

“The guys are going to shit themselves,” she
says. “Especially one…if that’s why you did this?”

I smile at her and nod. I
did
do this
for Cody. I mean, deep down I really did it for me, because I’m
tired of not knowing who I really am. But I also had his text in
mind. I want him to think I’m beautiful tonight, and I want him to
say it—
to me.

“Charlotte, what the heck are you wearing?”
Trevor says. My face falls flat—both because of his reaction, and
because he’s not the one I’m here to see. I breathe deeply and turn
to look at him.

“You like it?” I say, spinning to the side
just a little, careful to stay under my umbrella. “I just picked it
up. I wanted to get something new, for tonight.”

I’m waiting for his response, but I’m also
looking over his shoulder, waiting for Cody to turn around. They’re
all gathered beneath the eve of the front door, and Kyla has her
arm tucked firmly in his. She’s going to be tough competition
tonight—her dress is a small, black, strappy one, and her stockings
are fishnet. She looks like a
Victoria’s Secret
catalogue
cover.