Clarity 3
Page 4
The previous evening comes rushing back to me, and the memories make my head throb even more. I sigh and crane my neck to listen for sounds of Liam moving around the apartment. There is only silence. Maybe he’s still asleep? I swing my legs off the side of the sofa, and wrap the blanket around me to form a makeshift dress. I move toward his bedroom and listen for the sounds of breathing.
“Liam?” I ask softly. Hearing no response, I move forward to touch the bed. I slide my hand over the comforter, and I discover that there is no one in the bed—and the sheets have been folded perfectly smooth. It’s not even warm. He must have been up for a while.
Has he left the apartment? I am not aware of his schedule, and he might have needed to go to work today. I am a bit anxious at the thought that he might have abandoned me, but also relieved that he doesn’t have to see the way I look right now. I can feel that the light makeup Carmen helped me put on the day before is smudged, and I am sure my hair needs to be brushed quite badly.
Thinking about Carmen makes my head pound harder. I remember the fact that I “broke up” with my only sister. The entire night feels like a bad dream. I move through the empty apartment toward the bathroom to freshen up. I keep one arm extended before me to feel out my surroundings, and one holding my blanket-dress up against my chest. I knock on the door lightly to make sure it isn’t occupied.
“Liam?” I say a little more loudly. A ghastly thought strikes me as I imagine him lying on the bathroom floor, dead from having bled out from his bullet wound. I shake my head to clear the ridiculous thought. I just can’t help worrying about him. I wish that I knew where he was—but even if he’d left a note, I wouldn’t be able to read it. Wherever he is, I know that he’d rather be there than here with me anyway.
This is the thought that finally clears the fog from my mind and jumpstarts my day. I would like very much to get cleaned up and get out of Liam’s apartment before he returns. After the humiliating night before, I would rather not see him again. I just need to take some time to figure out where to go, and how on earth I’ll get there. Maybe a quick shower will help to lubricate my mind.
I am growing annoyed with this new landscape. It was very inconsiderate of Liam to leave me to wake up alone in an empty apartment that I barely know. If he wanted to dump me after finding out that I was horrible in bed, there were better ways to go about doing so. After having hunted for what I hoped was a clean towel, and a bar of soap, I managed to scrub the makeup from my face and rinse my entire body. I was also embarrassingly forced to steal Liam’s toothbrush. Nonetheless, after the difficult task of getting clean, I do feel much better and more clear-headed. I have also developed an epic escape plan for fleeing the city.
The only issue is that I can’t seem to find my underwear.
I have spent several minutes crawling around Liam’s coffee table on my hands and knees as I hunt for my bra and panties. This whole day has been one mortification after another. It doesn’t help that my hands and knees are bruised and sore from falling on the cobblestoned ground last night. I didn’t feel it back when there were almost equal parts wine and blood in my body, but it sure does suck the morning after. The only thing that protects me from completely losing my dignity is a healthy dose of anger. I utter small curses as I battle to figure out the layout of the land.
This must be exactly what a blind lioness feels like on the savannah as she prowls for scraps. When I bang into a piece of furniture for what must be the twentieth time, I release a frustrated growl and decide to give up. I have already put on my skirt, but I now pull my blouse on without my bra, assuring myself that my coat will cover everything I’m wearing anyway. I just need some fresh air as soon as possible.
I move to the coat closet and retrieve my coat and purse hastily. As I slip my arms into the coat, and fasten it around me, I feel around on the ground for my shoes. Once I locate the discarded footwear, I hold the wall for balance as I slide my feet into them. Glad to have finally conquered the difficult task of getting dressed, I head to the exit, clutching my purse tightly in my hand and eager for my freedom. However, once I place my hand on the doorknob, a brilliant idea strikes me. I return to the coat closet and fish around for the coat that Liam was wearing last night. I hope that he hasn’t decided to wear it again today. When my fingers encounter the precise woolen texture, I nearly jump for joy. I reach into the pocket and retrieve Grayson’s metal pistol.
If I’m heading out into the world on my own, I’m going to need protection. This seems like it might do the trick.
I stuff the weapon into my own pocket and unlock the apartment door with more confidence. As I step into the hallway, it occurs to me that I have no idea where the elevator is. I was too focused on worrying about Liam’s injury to notice which way we were going last night. I begin moving awkwardly in one direction, before I hesitate and head the other way.
A door in the hallway opens and someone steps out.
“So,” says a woman with a distinctly New Jerseyan accent. It sounds like she’s chewing gum and taking a moment to appraise me. “Are you the doctor’s new girlfriend?”
I cringe at this question. “No,” I respond. “I don’t think so.”
“Ah,” she says, chewing her gum some more. “So you’re doing the walk of shame, then?”
“Yes,” I respond bitterly. “I suppose I am.”
“What’s he like in the sack?” asks the woman. “I’ve been trying to get Liam in bed since he moved in here, but I guess he likes ’em younger. He’s such a hottie, no?”
“Look, lady,” I say with annoyance. “I’m blind. Can you tell me where the fucking elevator is?”
“Oh, you got a mouth on you. Relax, honey, I was just curious. The elevator is that way.”
“I can’t exactly see where you’re pointing,” I tell her impatiently. I feel a rush of rage bubble up inside me, along with a sudden loathing for this woman. She is not a real threat, and certainly not worthy of the gun in my pocket, but I still experience a great urge to rip her face off. At least my inner lioness has found her claws.
“Just turn around and walk in the other direction,” she tells me.
“Thanks,” I say, glowering at her before I swivel to march down the hallway. I trail my hand along the wall, hoping that I’ll notice the elevator buttons.
“Turn right!” shouts the woman. “The elevators are right there.”
“Thanks!” I call back to her, a little uncomfortable with the fact that she has been staring at me walk down the hallway. I can’t wait to get away from this city and all its crazy inhabitants.
I find the elevator button and push it, hoping that there will be braille on the inside of the elevator to indicate what to press for the lobby. That is, if the elevator ever arrives! I stand in place waiting for a full minute before I begin tapping my foot in annoyance. Another full minute passes, and I begin to boil with fury. I am sure that it is visible on me in some kind of red glow, or steam coming out of my ears. I continue to stand there, seething at the elevator and vigorously jabbing the down button until my phone rings. I am embarrassed to admit that all my anger instant leaves me and turns into hope as I rip my purse open and fish inside it for my phone. I answer it rapidly.
“Liam?” I say breathlessly into the phone.
“No, Helen. It’s your father.”
I am filled with a strange combination of disappointment and relief. “Hi, Dad,” I say quietly into the phone.
“Darling, I’m so sorry for everything that’s happened. I’ve been at the hospital all night with Carmen and it’s just been madness.” His voice is tired and drained. He pauses for a moment, as if trying to gain his composure. “It’s good to hear your voice. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” I tell him softly.
“And how is Liam? Heavens, child. Carmen said that he was shot!”
“It wasn’t serious. He stitched it up last night. I think he’s doing well.”
“Thank goodness,” my father says with a sigh. “I was so wor
ried about you two, but I haven’t had a spare moment to call. Oh, sweetheart. I never expected something like this to happen in a million years.”
“I did,” I mutter quietly.
“Grayson is a fine young man, and it’s so upsetting to see him like this. I don’t know what’s gotten into the poor boy. I think it’s just the pressure of the baby on the way and his work getting to him. He seems to have... cracked.”
“No kidding,” I murmur.
“Yes, well... I just wanted to apologize for all of this and tell you that it’s safe to come home. We took Grayson to the emergency last night, but he kept muttering your name and saying that he was going to kill Liam. He didn’t even seem to recognize Carmen, and he attacked a nurse. Yes—even with his injuries, he managed to attack someone. They had to sedate him, and he’s been sent to a psychiatric facility. They’re not sure what’s wrong with him. Some kind of mental illness or breakdown.”
“Oh,” I say in response.
“Carmen says you warned her before the wedding but she didn’t listen. Why didn’t you tell me, darling?”
“I tried, but...” I shrug my shoulders limply. This all seems so pointless to discuss now.
“Helen, I am always here to listen to you. Carmen said you two girls had a fight? She’s really upset about it. Will you please come home and make things better, darling? The poor girl is so distraught, and it’s not healthy for her pregnancy.”
A deep frown settles in my face. “Dad, can you please do me a favor?”
“Anything, dear.”
“Go up to my room and put my computer into my backpack, along with the power cord and my phone charger. Also, please put some basic clothes into my suitcase. Some underwear and socks, a few pairs of pajamas, dresses, shirts, and jeans. And some shoes.”
“Helen, please don’t go off to the godforsaken middle of nowhere again! Do you need money? I have money for you. I can help you get your own place nearby. I could even live with you if you needed a hand with the chores—or heck, we can kick Carmen and Grayson out of the house and live here together.”
“Dad...”
“Please don’t be so bullheaded, sweetheart. Sometimes you remind me so much of your mother that it scares me. I’m an old man, and I can’t lose you again for so many years, without a word. You’re my favorite daughter. What do you say?”
I release a sigh. “Please, Dad. I need to get away. I just want to go home. To my home. Can you please do this for me? Leave the suitcase and my backpack on the front doorstep. I’ll be over to pick it up shortly.”
“Helen, won’t you at least talk—”
The elevator dings to signify its arrival. “Gotta go, Dad. Thanks in advance.” I hang up the phone and step forward into the elevator, which I can immediately tell is empty. I scan my finger over the buttons and I’m relieved to find braille beside each one. I hit the button for the lobby. I miserably lean against the side of the elevator, glad to finally be moving. My hangover has returned with full force, and my head is throbbing again. The idea of losing my family again causes tears to prick the back of my eyes—and I try not to think about Liam at all. I just know that it must be done. The elevator does not make any stops to collect other passengers on the way down, and I am grateful for the privacy.
When the doors open and the elevator announces that we have arrived at the lobby, I clear my throat and straighten myself before stepping out of the cabin. I listen for the sounds of the street, and head in the direction of freedom. People are bustling past me and the lobby is full of strange noises. I had forgotten how difficult it is to navigate in the busy downtown area. I hate crowds. People bump into me at least twice, and I haven’t even reached the revolving doors. Finally, when my fingers do connect with the glass, it takes me a moment to figure out how to exit. The rotating doors seem to be on my left, and they are spinning so quickly that I’m quite certain I’m going to get chopped in half.
I am somehow able to dart into the rotating doors at the correct time, and dash out on cue as well. I sort of just allow my body to be pushed by the people around me who are rushing around and occasionally snapping at me or making grunts intended to make me feel guilty for not moving faster. I really hate crowds. When I am finally out on the busy street, it is even worse. People are moving past me in every direction, and I am overwhelmed by the commotion.
I feel like I am stuck between two colliding schools of fish, and being torn in both directions. I’m not sure whether I should follow the trout or the flounder. Or stand foolishly in the middle and wait for the piranhas that are chasing the fish to devour me.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” someone shouts. “Move!”
I turn to the man who said these words, because I assume that he’s looking at me. “Can you please tell me where we are?” I ask him.
“Where the fuck do you think, you dumb bitch? Jesus.” He pushes past me without giving me any information.
I stumble backward a little, clenching my teeth together disgust at his lack of manners. I am always unlucky enough to run into the worst sorts of people. Did I mention that I really, really hate crowds? I slip my hand into my pocket to feel the cool metal barrel of Grayson’s gun. I doubt I’d ever use it, but it reassures me to know that it’s there. It gives me a small sense of power.
“Are you okay, sweetie?” says an older woman who kindly takes my arm. “Can I help you?”
“I’m blind,” I tell her immediately. “Could you please flag down a cab for me?”
“Certainly, dear!” she says at once, moving to the side of the road. “Hey, buddy!” she shouts loudly, before letting out a loud whistle. “Over here!”
I smile at her spunk. A moment later, she is taking my arm and guiding me toward the cab.
“Here you are, sweetie. Be safe!”
“Thank you so much, ma’am,” I tell her kindly as I move to climb into the cab. I am precisely halfway into the vehicle, with one of my feet resting on the ground, and one of my butt cheeks already making contact with the seat, and I am about to slide in further when a strong hand clamps around my arm and pulls me out of the cab. I gasp when I find myself stumbling into a large man’s body. I try to pull away hastily, but I am not used to walking in heels and I find myself tripping over my own feet in my panic. However, it would be impossible to fall because the man effortlessly maintains a strong grip on me.
“Let go of me,” I demand, trying to twist away like I learned in my judo lessons. I am surprised when he counters my move, and I fearfully stuff my free hand into my pocket. Before I can touch the gun, the large man grabs both of my wrists.
“Winter?” he says with worry. “Where are you going?”
Relief courses through me at the recognizable voice and I stop struggling. Only then do I notice the familiarity of Liam’s hands, and the fact that he is holding several large shopping bags which brush against my leg. I would have noticed these details earlier, but I was in too much distress about being caught in a vast swarm of humans.
“Get off her, you sicko perv!” shrieks the little old lady from earlier. She must have noticed Liam pull me out of the cab and rushed back to save me. She pummels him with an item that I imagine must be her purse, because it makes a loud thwack which causes Liam to flinch.
“It’s okay!” I tell the old woman kindly, smiling at her efforts. “Thank you for your help, but I know this man. He’s a friend.”
“Oh! My apologies, dear,” says the lady with slight embarrassment, before scurrying away.
“Ouch,” Liam says, rubbing his arm. “At least she didn’t hit my leg. I seem to get attacked a whole lot when I’m around you, Winter.”
“I’m sorry,” I tell him, reaching forward to touch his wounded arm to see if there has been any real damage. When he laughs lightly, I am relieved to see that he has not been hurt in the slightest.
“You vaunt ride or no?” snaps the annoyed cab driver with a thick Russian accent.
“Yes!” I tell the driver. “Just a se
cond. You can start running the meter.” Everything is so chaotic with so many people around—there doesn’t seem to be a spare moment. I turn back to Liam and look up to where I believe his face is. I am not sure if I’m glad that he caught me, so that I have a chance to say goodbye, or if I’m upset that I now need to feel the pain of ripping myself away. Either way, my heart flutters in my chest. This is not going to be easy. “I’m going home,” I tell him.
“Home?” he repeats. “To your dad’s? I don’t think that’s safe.”
“No, no. I’m just going to pick up my suitcase from my dad’s and head to a bus station to go back to New Hampshire.” I try very hard to keep my face expressionless and to remain focused. I feel a terrible ache stirring in the pit of my chest, and I realize that I really am going to miss him. I shake the emotions away briskly. “Thanks for everything,” I say softly, before pulling away and moving back into the cab.
“Winter!” Liam says, following after me quickly and taking ahold of me before I can fully enter the cab once again. “Why? Why are you leaving me?”
His grip on me is tight and desperate. It almost feels like he wants me to stay. This idea is silly, but the thought almost makes me want to cry. I need to dig up my anger and bitterness to keep me strong. “This isn’t working out between us,” I tell him coldly, “I think you should date a healthy woman. Someone who isn’t blind—but more importantly, someone who isn’t fucked up in the head.”
He seems stunned by my words, and he abruptly releases me. “That’s not fair,” he says. “You’re just upset. You can’t leave like this or you’ll be filled with regrets. Let’s just take five minutes to relax and sit down and talk about this. After all we’ve been through, you owe me that, at least!”
“I don’t owe anyone anything,” I inform him stubbornly. “Goodbye, Liam.”
He intercepts me and blocks me from entering the cab. “What about your eyes?” he demands. “You can’t let petty issues between us ruin this opportunity for you!”
“Find another candidate,” I tell him quietly. “I like myself just the way I am. I don’t need to improve for anyone.” Not even you, I think inwardly.