I See You (Seeing You #2)

by A. P. Hallmark

  I hear a light sob come from her. "Some of my grandmother's jewelry is in there too. I'm glad I didn't lose that."

  "Joy, there's a large picture sitting on the night table. The frame and glass are blackened, but the picture inside is still good. Do you want to bring that with you?"

  "Those are my parents."

  "Your mother is beautiful." Taking the picture, I place it in the box we brought to carry out the items she wants to keep.

  After Joy does a thorough search of her room, she moves down the hall to her office. She assesses the fire and water damage to her equipment before we make our way to the living room. There are more damaged photos but possibly salvageable and I gently place them in the box. We move on to the kitchen and the contents of the cupboards are either water damaged or burnt. I open one of the cabinets, find a small tin box and open it.

  "Joy, here, baby." I place the box in her hands and upon feeling the contents, she lets out a shuddering sob.

  "My recipes," she cries. "I thought this little tin box would have melted in the fire, did the water damage them?" Thumbing through the cards, paper and clippings, they are all in perfect condition.

  “Not a single one burned,” I say handing the box back to her.

  I get misty-eyed when I watch her clutch a cheap tin box, holding her most prized possession and the last remaining physical memory of her mother and grandmother.

  After spending a very short time in the apartment, the remains of her life that once filled this two-bedroom apartment, now fit into a small cardboard box.

  "This is it, isn't it? This is all I have left. My life in a cardboard box … and it's not even full." I watch her place her hands on the lid of the box as she bows her head and tries hard not to cry.

  “I’ll fill it,” I say taking her in my arms. “I’ll fill your life full of love.”

  “Oh, Matthew,” she whimpers against my chest.

  We say our goodbyes to Berkley as he replaces the lock.

  After our stop at the police station to get Joy’s Restraining Order, we arrive home and I open a bottle of wine. Pulling a wine glass from the cabinet, I take her hand and ask her to follow. When we reach our room, I go into the bathroom and start her a nice, hot bubble bath, placing a glass of chilled chardonnay on the edge of the tub for her.

  Thinking she is behind me, I offer to help her into the tub, but she's not there. Going back to the bedroom, I find her sitting on the edge of the bed, motionless and ... well ... just sad.

  "Come on, baby. Let's get you in the bath. You'd like that, wouldn't you?" I ask, smiling when she sweetly nods. Once she’s totally undressed, I lift her into the tub, placing her feet inside the bubbles. After she immerses herself in the water, she’s eerily silent and sits forward while I brush her hair.

  "Right here is a glass of wine for you — the bottle is just to your left." I take her hand, placing it on the bottle. "I'm going downstairs to get a little work done. You take as long as you need, and I'll see you down there when you’re ready. Let me know if you need anything, okay."

  "Thank you, Matthew," she says sadly, laying her head back with a faint smile. However, as soon as I close the door, she breaks out into quiet sobs. I find myself wanting to go to her but decide against it. She needs to have a good cry, so I let her have her privacy.

  An hour later, I hear her moving around upstairs so I head for the kitchen to make us a snack tray of fruit, cheeses and baguette slices. I also pull the bag of prepared prawns out of the freezer for dinner. Placing the tray of snacks on the coffee table, I see her descending the stairs. I smile when I see she's wearing a baby blue hoodie and matching yoga pants that hug her sweet ass perfectly. She has no bra or panties on. She's enticing me, and I feel my body respond at the thought of being just a thin piece of material away from her.

  "Come over here, Joy. I've prepared us a snack since dinner isn't for a while yet. There’s more wine here as well. Sit here, I have a present for you."

  "You do?" she asks quietly.

  "I do."

  I help her sit down, and watch as she settles in comfortably. My prepared snack is just a few cheese and bread slices, which I place on a napkin for her. While she nibbles on those, I play a few songs on the piano for her. It makes me smile when I glance up and see her lying back with her eyes closed, humming along.

  I continue playing and select slower, more melodic tunes, because she’s falling asleep, and I want her to rest. She was up in the night reading my study, and I know she couldn't have gotten much sleep. I play the last notes and creep quietly to the kitchen to start dinner.

  While the water’s heating for the pasta, I begin preparations for shrimp scampi. Pleasing Joy always makes me feel good and I decide to set the formal dining table with the fine china that mom gave me. To make it more romantic I position two taper candles at the center of the table and light them before placing my iPod in the dock ready to play the list I made while she was in the bath. Just as the first song begins to play, she walks into the kitchen, wrapping her arms around my waist.

  "Hey, you. Did you get some rest?" I ask, turning around in her arms and pulling her in, close to my chest.

  "I did. Thank you for taking care of me. It has been … an emotional day,” she confesses. "My grandmother helped me achieve so much in my life, Matthew. She was part of that apartment. If it wasn't for her, I wouldn't be where I am today, mentally or physically."

  "I know. I wish I could have met her."

  "Me too, you would have liked her," she says into my chest.

  "I know I would have. How could I not? She gave me you." I kiss her, lowering my hand down past her waist and across her firm bottom. Slipping my hand inside the waistband of her yoga pants, I confirm that she does not have panties on.

  "Why, Miss Joy Johnson, are you commando?"

  "I do believe I am." She giggles and steps away, forcing my hand out of her pants. "No dessert until after dinner. You owe me a talk, and I want that first."

  Inwardly I scowl because I don't want to mar this perfect evening with a conversation that could end badly. Someone is going to be pissed.

  After our romantic dinner, we work together and get the dishes done.

  "That was a very nice dinner, Matthew, thank you," Joy says, folding the dishtowel.

  "You are most welcome, baby," I reply, kissing her on top of her head. She pulls away and hurries upstairs and I know exactly why. It’s time.

  Standing in the living room, I take a deep breath. After starting a fire, I bring in two clean wine glasses and the bottle of wine we had with dinner. As I place the glasses on the coffee table, Joy comes down the stairs with the study in her arms.

  Wanting this to be as comfortable as possible, I lay two large pillows on the floor in front of the fireplace and guide Joy over to one and lounge out on the floor beside her. She sits with her legs folded, facing me, and I wait for her to begin.

  "You first," I say, taking a nervous sip of wine.

  “No, you first,” she replies.

  "I don't want to do it."

  "Why not? What changed your mind?" she asks. "I mean, don't you believe in your study anymore?"

  "Of course I do. Why do you even ask that?" I’m shocked she would say that.

  "Matthew, you planned an entire holiday season around this. You employed my friends and your family to assist you in getting me to go along with your plan, and now you decide not to do it? I just want to know what changed your mind." She presses me, and I search my mind for the appropriate answer.

  "You were happy when I met you and since I devised my little plan, your life has been a complete mess. I brought Emma to your doorstep, who took your home from you, for Christ's sake! Now, you’re crying all the time, you quit smiling, you don’t go to your favorite café anymore, and all of that is because of me. I've changed your life, Joy. Trust me, it wasn't for the better," I argue. "On top of all that, what if this doesn't work? I believe in all my research but I have no proof that it will actually wo
rk. I've run several test studies on patients, and those small steps turned out all right, but I've never done the procedure to the extent I was going to on you.

  “Do you think I haven't thought about this nearly every single day since I met you? At first, I thought the one thing in the world I could give you is your sight. Then I saw what all this did to both you and me. It literally tore us apart. Since we were at the cabin, I've been watching you and how you acclimate yourself to your environment. You do it with ease, baby. It's as if you have your own little science of how you adjust to each individual surrounding you is in at that given moment. You say you are in awe of me? My respect for you is tenfold to yours of me. You don't need me to come into your life and screw all that up. I don't want to be the one to disappoint you if this doesn't work."

  "But you assured me that it would work. What changed your mind? Are you saying it won't?" she presses.

  "No … I don't know. It's more your constant fear of surgeries. The repeated promises you’ve had from doctors that their procedure would work for you and then they didn’t. I guess there's that one percent possibility that your eyes could reject the stem cells. No, wait, that won't happen. I just couldn't stand it if I took those bandages off your eyes and you still being unable to look into mine."

  "Matthew, I need you to listen to me. You're right. I was scared. I still am. This frightens me. I still hate those doctors who made promises and failed, but I was a young girl with hope, faith, and trust in their words. I’m mostly angry with the doctor who opened my head, knowing he couldn't help me. That was the worst time of my recovery." She sits forward and pulls the binder that contains my study onto her lap.

  “There’s one thing you offered me that they didn't,” she places her hands flat on the binder. “I believe in this, and I trust it. Even more, I trust you and I know you will never hurt me. If you didn't have faith in this, you wouldn't even consider it."

  I get up and pace in front of the fireplace considering her options.

  "Matthew, you said you wanted me to look you in your eyes when you made love to me."

  "Yes, I did, and those were the most selfish words I've ever spoken. If you had listened to me, I was trying to talk you into it for my own gain. I wanted it, all the while you were pleading with me that you didn't. You have no idea how much I hate myself for that."

  "Do you think I don't want to see you make love to me? To see you come undone when we … come together?" I look at her, and she has the most beautiful blush on her cheeks. "I want to see you, Matthew.” For the second time today, she starts to cry.

  I hurry to her and pull her onto my lap, rocking her in my arms. "Please don't cry, sweetheart."

  "Please, Matthew," she begs. My heart and mind war with each other. My heart says no, I couldn’t stand it if I failed her, but my mind says yes, it will work.

  I continue to hold her as we sit in silence. Taking my glass of wine, I finish the remains in one gulp, grateful she’s allowing me the time to consider her argument.

  "What if it doesn't work, Joy?" I whisper, holding her head close to my chest. I need to know how she will handle that possibility of failure.

  "Then it doesn't work, I live my life as I always have, only with you in it," she replies with sincerity. I wrap my arms around her again and rest my chin on her head.

  "Will it be painful?" she asks, pensively. I answer her as honestly as I can.

  "A little. There will be pain management though, of course."

  "I have a high pain tolerance. I've learned to use my mind to control it. It's something my grandmother taught me. She always told me to go inside the pain, and it has always helped."

  "I just don't know, Joy. I couldn't stand it if you blamed me, if you couldn't see afterward." I move her off my lap and get up to place another log on the fire, staring into the flames.

  "Matthew, listen to me. I know it's a risk. I know it's unproven at this level, but at least I will go into this with my eyes wide open." We both smirk at the irony of that statement. "Trust me, I know there's a possibility that I may not see again, but like I said … I trust you. I trust that you won't let any harm come to me, and if the worst thing that could possibly happen is that I'm blind when you take the bandages off, I've lost nothing. Right?"

  "I guess," I mutter, rubbing the back of my neck, mulling this over and over in my mind.

  "I want you to do it, baby. Let's do it together, and let's prove to the world that this will work, and let's help all the children out there that will benefit from your procedure."

  "Are you sure, Joy? I couldn't stand it if—" She gets up, walks the short distance to me, throws her arms around my waist and holds onto me.

  "Yes, Matthew. I love you with everything in me. I can't wait to see you. It will be like Christmas all over again. Please, please say yes." I pull away from her to pace the room again, stopping in front of her.

  "Joy?"

  "Oh, for God sakes, Matthew, just say yes." I watch her and see the determination on her face, the excitement. She wants it, and how can I deny her that?

  "Okay," I say, and she launches herself at me, wrapping her legs around my waist, kissing me everywhere on my face.

  "When?" she asks, covering my mouth with hers.

  "Slow down, sweetie. There's a lot of planning and testing involved. One day at a time, all right? But, I promise you, we will start next week."

  "Thank you. Thank you. Thank you," she says between kisses. "Now, take me to bed or lose me forever."

  We both burst out laughing at her perfect timing of a good Top Gun quote.

  Chapter 10

  "Good morning, baby," I whisper into Joy's ear. "See you in a bit." I peek at her face through her wild looking hair as the result of the very late night we had. We made love until we couldn't keep our eyes open. Leaving her to sleep, I head to the hospital to make my morning rounds before my appointment with Timothy, and then my meeting with Emma.

  When I reach the hospital, I call Laura to see if it is okay to bring Joy to her house while I deal with everything today. She tells me she’ll be home all day and to come over any time.

  After several hours doing rounds I return home and sit at the breakfast bar enjoying a bowl of cereal, when I hear bare feet pad across the floor tile.

  "You're dressed," Joy says in a sexy, sleepy voice. I love the feel of her hands on me as she runs them up and down my arm.

  "I've been to the hospital already, sleepyhead." That startles her, and she jumps away from me.

  "What time is it?" she asks as I pull her back down and snuggle her next to me.

  "It's going on ten o’clock. You can allow yourself to sleep in once in a while, Joy. I have a meeting at Timothy' office at eleven, and then I'm meeting with Emma afterward, remember? Would you like to spend the day with Laura until I get this over with?"

  "Yes," she says wryly.

  "Then you better get up and get ready. I need to leave here in about thirty minutes, all right?"

  While I’m typing a report on my iPad, I hear the bedroom door open and Conrad runs to the stairs to assist his mistress.

  "Hey," she smiles, running her hand along my shoulder as she walks to the refrigerator.

  "Hey, baby. So, uh, I wanted to talk to you a little bit about … um … Emma and kind of want to fill you in on what's going on before we leave, all right?"

  "Mmhm," she mumbles, taking a long drink of her orange juice.

  "First, I'm meeting with Timothy, and he's going to tell me about what he's been working on relative to the legal aspects of what she’s been up to. Then I have my meeting with her, face-to-face. I just want to tell you that I may say and do some things that may seem inappropriate to you, and I don't want you to be concerned."

  "What do you mean by 'inappropriate?'" she asks, slowly setting her glass of juice down on the counter.

  "I need to make sure she believes that I'm there for the reason she thinks I am … which I'm not … but it's part of the ruse to get her to confess that
she's been doing what we think she's been doing. Does that make sense?" I measure her reaction and see the concern on her pretty face.

  "So, you’re going to come on to her?" The anxiety in her voice does not escape me.

  "Come here, baby." I reach for her hand, pull her inside my legs and hold her hips. "First, you need to trust me. Even the thought of being intimate with her is repulsive to me. I just can't go in there all angry and bitter toward her otherwise she’ll be able to sense that and won't give over the information we need. Do you understand?"

  "I guess, but I don't want her to touch you."

  "She won't. I promise. I won't let her,” I reassure her. “I may have to say some things that might hurt you, and I want you to know that it's only because I need her to trust me." I hold her face in the palm of my hands, hoping she understands.

  She rests her forehead against mine and releases a sigh. "I know, but I don't like it. I just can't wait until this is all over with, you know?"

  "Yes, I know. You and me both." I gently place a long kiss on her warm lips. "Are you ready to go?" I ask, running my fingers through her hair.

  "Yeah, I guess. I wish you didn't have to do this."

  "Me too. Trust me. The thought of being alone in the same room with her gives me the willies."

  After letting Conrad out, I gather my iPad, placing it in my messenger bag, and escort Joy to the passenger side of the Jag. Giving her a kiss before she gets comfortable, I help her with her seatbelt.

  "I don't want you alone with her, Matthew. I don’t trust her.”

  "I know you don't, baby." I massage the back of her neck to soothe her. "If the roles were reversed …” I know I wouldn't like it if it were her doing this.

  When we reach Laura’s, I wrap my arm around her shoulder and walk her to the door. Once inside, she throws her arms around my waist, holding on tight. Running my hands up and down her back, I let both of them know that I’ll be back as soon as I can.

  "I'll take care of her, you know that, Matthew," Laura assures me, stroking Joy's long hair.

  "I know you will. She needs her best friend right now." Laura nods in understanding.