by Loretta Lost
"They are," Owen agrees sadly. "I want to see it too!"
"Let's save that for after the surgery," I tell my friend sternly. "Work first, pleasure later."
"But I want to see it now," Owen whines.
"You can hold on a few hours," Helen tells him. "They've been torturing me for weeks."
"Weeks? Why didn't you try to get the surgery done a little sooner?" Owen asks her.
"I was trying to finish writing my book," she explains. "I was really into the story, and I didn't want to take a break to lose my momentum. But eventually, I couldn't take the suspense, and asked Liam to try to fix my eyes."
"Writers," David says with a shake of his head. "They're all insane."
Helen grabs the nearest object, which happens to be a handful of cotton balls, and tosses it at David in annoyance. He dodges it and laughs, and I scowl at them. I needed those damn cotton balls!
"Children!" I bark harshly. "Until further notice, this house is my hospital, and this is my operating room. You will behave yourselves and do as I say if we want this procedure to go smoothly."
"Yes, Dr. Larson," David says with a wink.
"Ooh," Owen says in excitement. "Liam is getting all bossy. I love it."
"Get over here, Owen," I tell him firmly, gesturing to the dining table where there are diagrams scattered everywhere. "As you know, the first surgery didn't go as well as we thought. I think that we should use this opportunity to experiment. I think we should inject the serum from a slightly different angle than we did before. And maybe into a slightly different location. What do you think?"
Owen moves to my side and strokes his chin. "Ah, okay. I see what you mean. We can do that. This is a really good idea, Liam. I suppose we'll approach the retina from here, and stick the camera in here..."
"Ew," David says with a shudder. "You guys are going to stick a camera in her eyes? Is that necessary?"
"We're the professionals here," Owen tells him. "You need to just trust us, and do what we say."
"Wait--" I say sharply. "Is it really necessary, Owen? Maybe we've done this enough times that we can inject the serum without the camera. It would significantly reduce her healing time."
"But how would we know precisely where to put it?" Owen asks.
"I can feel it out," I say softly, turning away from the diagrams and looking at Helen. "Having inserted the needle many times before, I think I can do this from a combination of memory and sensation. Plus, I paid extra close attention to Helen's anatomy. I can always sort of feel it in my hands when I've hit the right spot."
I am a little confused by the shocked expressions on everyone's faces.
"Oh my god," Helen says as her cheeks blush furiously red. "Are you joking, Liam?"
"What?" I say in confusion.
Owen and David burst out laughing so hard that they both seem to have trouble breathing or standing up straight.
"Buddy!" Owen says, moving forward to clap me on the back. "You do know that boning the patient doesn't help you perform better surgery on her, right?"
Realizing the way I phrased myself, I clench my lips together in annoyance. "I'm serious, guys. I think that if this works, it could be a breakthrough in this kind of surgery. Both the new angle, and the new method-- I have a hunch, and I need you to stop joking around and go with me on this, Owen."
My tall, slender friend immediately nods and stops grinning. "Alright, boss. Let's get this show on the road. Let me know what you need, and I'll help as much as I can."
"Me too," David says. "I'm excited to be part of this, guys. Thanks for asking me to help out."
"The more, the merrier," Owen says cheerfully. "We can always use an extra set of hands when it comes to--"
Knowing my best friend, he looks like he's on the verge of a gangbang joke. I glare at him hard to make him stop speaking, and he quiets down guiltily.
"--making injections," Owen finishes in a mumble.
Helen smiles at us, as though she has been enjoying our banter. Most girls are grossed out by Owen, but I have always found it endearing that Helen is able to laugh at his stupidity. She really is one of a kind.
"If you need me to skip the local anesthesia so I can help guide you or give you feedback on what you're doing, I wouldn't mind feeling the pain," Helen suggests. "I know that I can tough it out and hold perfectly still while you insert the needle. I'm not afraid."
"Wow," David says, shaking his head in admiration. He moves to my side and elbows my ribs knowingly. "What a woman. She’s like a tasty piece of pumpkin pie. You better lock her down fast, bro, because if you don't marry her, I will."
“I’m trying my best,” I tell him earnestly.
“Pumpkin pie?” Helen repeats, wrinkling her nose. “Painters are so weird.”
“You only think so because you can’t see my paintings,” David jokes.
“Well,” I say with conviction, moving to Helen’s bedside and grasping her hand. “Let’s fix that.”
Chapter Twenty-One
A few weeks later...
As we stand on the edge of the little lake, I observe Helen’s porcelain features. She is wearing a red summer dress that is blowing in the wind, and she looks contemplative as she gazes out at the landscape.
“I’m going to miss this place,” she says softly.
“We can always come back,” I say, placing my hand on the small of her back. “I’m sorry that I have to go to this conference.”
“It’s okay,” she responds. “I also need to visit my family. I just feel like I’ve finally started to settle in here and get comfortable in my own skin. I am a little afraid of what awaits me at home.”
“Whatever happens, you are strong enough to deal with it,” I assure her.
She turns to smile at me, and it still makes my heart soar. “It certainly helps that I can see again, in crystal-clear high definition.”
Although Helen is thrilled with her ability to see, I have to accept that no matter how hard I try, her vision will never be perfect. However, it doesn’t seem to make a difference to her. The level that we have achieved is enough to brighten her world.
“I don’t know what I’m going to say to my sister," Helen says as a frown transforms her features. "She's been through so much lately. I wonder if I'll even be able to relate to her. Will she hate me for not being around?"
"She's your sister. She could never hate you," I tell her.
"That's something I never want to experience," Helen says quietly. "Losing a child? It seems like it would be the most horrible thing in the world."
"Then you'll have to make sure you stay healthy when I get you pregnant," I tell her teasingly, moving to stand behind her and wrapping my arms around her stomach.
Helen bats my hands away. "That better not happen anytime soon!"
"I don't know," I tell her lightly. "If I got you pregnant, would you be more inclined to marry me?"
"Liam!" she gasps, turning around with flushed cheeks. "Oh my god, don’t joke around like that."
Our flirtation is interrupted by the sound of a bark, as Snowball approaches along with David.
"Howdy, neighbors!" he says cheerfully. "Special dog delivery. I'm going to miss this little runt when you two steal her away from me."
"Why don't you keep her for a little while?" Helen suggests. "It will give me and Liam an excuse to come back here. Or it will give you an excuse to come and visit us in New York."
"Would you really be cool with that?" David asks, looking at both of us in surprise.
I nod in confirmation. "That's a great idea. Snowball adores you, and you seem like you could use the company. Besides, I'm a little worried that you'll get depressed and drink yourself to death if we leave you out here completely alone."
"You just might be right," David says with a nod. "My ex-wife keeps posting adorable photos of our dog online. I want to strangle her."
"At least you didn't have kids," Helen says sympathetically.
David sighs. "Not for lack of t
rying. Anyway, lovebirds, I really hate to see you go. Before you drive out, will you stop by my cabin to pick up a gift? It's a painting that I hope will bring a little bit of the wilderness home to the city with you."
"Sure," I tell him with a smile. "That's very thoughtful of you."
Helen moves forward to give David a hug. "Thanks for introducing me to the dazzling world of drunken artists," she says with a smile.
"It was my pleasure," he says, kissing her cheek. "If Liam ever breaks your heart, you've got my number. Call me. I'm serious."
Helen laughs. "I'll keep that in mind."
"That's really unlikely, man," I say with a grin, reaching out to shake his hand. "But thanks for making our stay here really memorable."
"You're a really great couple, guys," David says sadly. "Thanks for renewing my faith in love, and making me miss Sarah even more."
Helen makes a face. "You're welcome, I think?" she says with a laugh. "I hope you two can patch things up."
“Maybe,” David says brightly, gesturing to the open lake. “But it’s a pretty big world, isn’t it? Maybe there’s a better girl somewhere out there for me! I’d be happy if I could just find the kind of woman who won’t steal my dog.”
“He has really high standards,” I whisper to Helen, making her giggle.
Chapter Twenty-Two
It wasn’t a very long nighttime drive from the mountains of Pennsylvania to New York. It felt a lot longer driving out of the city originally, because of the terrible emotional state I was in and fighting with Helen. Now that we’re on better terms than ever, the time has flown by far too quickly. When I pull into the driveway of her massive mansion, I find myself feeling afraid and unsure.
“Is that what my house looks like?” Helen asks in awe as she leans forward to gaze through the windshield. “Who the hell am I? The queen of England?”
“That was my first thought when I first saw it,” I admit to her. Helen is reaching for the car door handle when I lean over and grab her wrist. “Wait!”
She looks at me in surprise. “What?”
“I... I just...” After a moment of struggling to find the words, I simply put my car into gear and slam my foot on the gas, spinning my car around the fountain in the center of the driveway so I can escape away from the house. I’m not ready for this.
“Liam!” she exclaims in annoyance. “What are you doing?”
“I’m sorry, Helen. I just feel like you’re going to walk into that house, and that will be the end of us. I just need a few minutes more with you. I just want to show you one thing.”
Sighing and leaning back into her chair, Helen shrugs. “Fine, fine.”
“Your dad despises me,” I tell her softly. “I’m afraid he’ll turn you against me.”
“What’s going on with you and my dad?” Helen asks me curiously. “Why would he hate you?”
Thoughts rush through my mind as I try to think of what to say to her. I want to share the truth, but I feel so ashamed. Focusing on the road, I glance at the time and see that we are a few minutes away from the beginning of the sunrise. Maybe I can distract her from the subject—or tell her under circumstances where she would be likely to forgive.
Driving smoothly onto the highway, I begin navigating to my favorite place in the city. "Liam?" Helen asks me nervously. "What's wrong? Where are we going?"
"It's just a small detour," I tell her softly. "Just trust me. It will be worth it."
We drive in silence for about twenty minutes, until I am able to pull directly onto the beach and drive close to the water. I drive over a divider, and put my car into the sand. I made it just in time, for the first notes of dawn are just touching the horizon. There are wisps of rosy pink clouds in the east, and I am beginning to feel at peace.
"Are we on the beach?" Helen asks softly. She looks up at the sky in confusion. "Liam... Something seems really familiar about this place."
"I took you here once," I tell her, turning off my car and leaning back in my seat. "I told you about how it was--"
"The best part of your childhood," Helen says in surprise. "I remember. You said that it was something your parents used to do with you when you were young. You'd drive out to the beach and watch the sunrise. Your dad used to say that you had ‘front row seats.’”
"Yes!" I exclaim in excitement, taking off my seat belt so that I can turn toward her and grasp her hands. "Oh my god, Helen. You're remembering!"
"I suppose so," she says, shaking her head in surprise. "I remembered a few things, Liam. You were encouraging me to visit my father. I wasn't talking to dad, because..." She trails off in confusion, squinting her eyes in memory. "I don't know why we weren't talking. But you were trying to convince me to visit him. Because... because he was paying you to date me."
Helen turns toward me, with eyes of fire. The first hues of the sunrise are literally reflected in her livid irises. "Liam," she hisses. "Why didn't you tell me that? I remember now. Our fight—I heard you telling my dad that you were going to break up with me for money! Oh my god." She pulls her hands away from me and presses them against her face in horror.
"No! No," I whisper. "Let me explain, please. Helen, that day, I actually called your dad to ask for permission to marry you. He didn't give it to me. He told me that he wanted me to break up with you instead, or he wouldn't give me a recommendation for a research grant that I really needed. So I lied to him. I never intended on breaking up with you. I promise. I just—I should have told you from the start that your father was partly responsible for us meeting, because he really wanted me to help heal your eyes. He really loves you, Helen, and he just wanted you to be in his life again. He just wanted the best for you. I know that he's a bit too controlling sometimes—heck, the old man has tried to manipulate me on several occasions. But he didn't count on the fact that I was really going to fall in love with you. Why does it matter now, how we met, as long as we have?"
"You lied to me for months," Helen says quietly. "He gave us a ton of money—and you were following out his instructions and being his little puppet. You were telling me what he wanted me to hear?"
"Yes. Sometimes, back then. Not always. But Helen, these past few weeks in Pennsylvania were one-hundred percent you and me. I cut off contact with your dad completely; I didn't even tell him about your surgery. I just wanted to be with you, without any outside influences."
Helen closes her eyes and nods slowly. "This wasn't the best memory ever."
"I know."
Sighing, she reaches up to run both of her hands through her hair. "Thank you for driving me out here. I remember so much about you. About us. So many little things. But why don't I remember everything? There are still missing pieces."
"I am sure that they will come to you soon."
"My dad warned me against you at the hospital," Helen muses. "This must be why. He wasn't actually warning me about you. He was scared that you would tell me about what he had done, because he feels guilty. Wow. How twisted is that?"
"Believe it or not, Helen, he's still a pretty darn great father," I tell her softly.
Frowning, Helen turns toward me. "Liam, you said your dad used to take you out here. I don't remember him. Did I ever meet your parents?"
Shaking my head, I turn away from her gaze to look out at the colorful sky. "No," I say softly, as my stomach turns with nausea at the memory of my father. "You can't ever meet my family."
"Why not?" she asks me curiously. "Liam, that's not fair. You know my family. You know everything about me. And you say you want to marry me? How can we do that if you won’t even introduce me to your folks?"
"Helen," I tell her brokenly. "If you met my folks, you wouldn't want to touch me with a ten foot pole. You would leave me on the spot. You would vomit at the thought of marrying me."
"Why do you think so poorly of me?" she asks me with hurt in her voice. Reaching down to her left hand, she wiggles loose the ruby ring I gave her, and places it on the dashboard of my car. "I wanted to marry y
ou for you," she tells me. "But if you can't even really tell me who you are, then you're keeping me in the dark."
Reaching out to retrieve the engagement ring, I feel my heart sink a little. It's the second time she's given it back to me, and I feel so afraid when she's not wearing it on her finger. The future looks so cold, empty, and loveless without her by my side. I tuck the ring into my pocket as I realize that she's still talking.
"I won't go into this relationship with you blindly, Liam. It's against everything we've fought for."
"What have we fought for?" I ask her miserably.
"Clarity," she whispers.
We sit in silence in my car for a few moments, and watch the changing colors of the sunrise. After a moment, I feel Helen's soft hand slip into mine, and our fingers gently become interwoven.
"Take me to your parents," she commands me suddenly. "I want to meet the real Liam Larson. I want to see your baby photos. I want to hear stories of what you were like as a child."
"Helen, you don't know what you're asking for," I say with a shake of my head, squeezing her hand tightly. "Please don't make me do this."
"You don't have to," she says softly, with a shrug of surrender. "You can just take me home to my dad's and drop me off there. But I don't want to hear from you for a little while, or see you. I need to spend some time reconnecting with my father, too."
I feel like she's giving me a death sentence. "Helen—why do you want to meet them so badly? Will it really make any sort of difference?"
"I suppose not," she says, turning away. "Even if you share that with me, I'm sure you'll find dozens of other important things to lie about and conceal."
Snarling softly, I turn on my car. "Fine," I spit. "You want to know the real me? You want to see where I come from? Let's go. It's not too far. Let's go, so you can be relieved that you won't have to marry into filth."
