She followed the wall and reached a doorframe. She reached to the left once inside the room and felt another opening—bathroom, maybe? Tori trailed her fingers along the wall. Towel bar, shower curtain… She found the sink, followed by the toilet seat. Ok, good job, Tori. Now you don’t have to piss your pants.
She did her business. Crisis one taken care of. A surge of victory rushed through her for accomplishing such a seemingly simple task. As she emerged from the bathroom and started to explore the perimeter of the room, there was a knock at her door. “Come in!” Tori hollered. She did not want to try and find her way to the front door.
Door opening and shutting, footsteps. “I’m in the bedroom. At least, I think I am.” Tori let out a nervous grunt.
A feminine chuckle grew close. “You must be Victoria?” The woman sounded not too much older than her, a firm but kind tone. Tori detected a hint of a west Virginia drawl coming from her.
“That would be me.” Tori turned toward her voice. “I was trying to get my bearings.”
“That’s called mapping the room. That’s good. Shows that you have the desire to figure things out on your own.”
“Or that I had to pee really, really bad.” Tori curled her nose.
She laughed again. “I’m Charlotte, but everyone around her calls me Char.”
“Well, then you may call me Tori.” Tori fiddled with the charm on her necklace, rubbing her fingers over the raised butterfly pattern. Scott sent her a necklace from every place he visited, and she had well over twenty collected from all the years.
“It’s ok for you to offer your hand first. Most sighted people will see that and follow suit.” Charlotte obviously picked up on the fact Tori had no clue what to do with her hands.
“Oh, ok.” Tori wiped her sweaty palm on her jeans, thrusting out her hand. Within a moment, Charlotte’s strong grip met hers.
“Nice to meet you, Tori.” She had thicker, puffier fingers than Tori, but her shake was soft and warm.
“Nice to meet you, Char.”
“So, let’s continue with what you were doing, mapping the room. Anytime you visit a new place, a hotel room, the best thing you can do is make that mental map of the area so you know where everything is. Now, if you have someone with you, like myself, they can verbally tell you the layout, then you can explore it. You ready?”
Tori nodded and swallowed the lump in her throat. “Yes.”
“Ok, so each room is normally a square, so we label it accordingly. Wall one will always be the wall with the door, wall two will be to your right, and so on. So, that said, wall one, you have the door that leads in from your living area. There, you will find a dresser. Two will lead you to the nightstand and the bed, three has a desk, and four has the closet then the bathroom entrance, which I suppose you found.”
“If it wasn’t, peeing in there was a really bad call.”
Charlotte let out a big belly laugh. “I’m glad you have a sense of humor. You’re gonna need that.”
“I’m using a marshmallow tip for you,” Chase said. “It’s not as likely to catch in cracks. Okay, it’s ready.”
Tori stood there, frozen, her arms planted firmly across her chest. She knew she needed the damn cane, but she couldn’t bring herself to reach out for it.
“Victoria, you have to take it,” Chase urged.
Tears stung her eyes. She bit her cheek to try and deter them from spilling over. She shook her head. “I can’t.”
“Do you enjoy having to have people take you everywhere and bumping into everything?”
Tori fervently shook her head no. Her reliance on others was driving her nuts.
“Well, that’s what it’s going to be like unless you learn to use this.” Chase was calm and patient with her, but there was a firmness to his voice.
“I… I need a minute.” She knew once she took that thing, it was all over. That was it. She was no longer Victoria Johnson, the artist. She would always be seen as the blind woman passing people by. She was losing her very identity. “I don’t want this to define me,” Tori whispered.
“I know you won’t let it.”
Tori wiped her nose and sniffled. “You just met me.” She gave him a wry smile.
“I have a feeling about you,” he said warmly. “Listen, this doesn’t mean you aren’t the same person. It just means you are Victoria who so happens to be blind.”
“Or blind Victoria,” Tori snarled.
“Yes, blindness does tend to go in front of you,” he said softly. “But it’s nothing to be ashamed of.”
God damn him and that British accent for sounding so wise and practical.
She wasn’t going to be able to hide this like she did all the other things in her life she was ashamed of. She thought about Scott. Sure, he could throw a pair of jeans over his prosthetic, but when he wore shorts, it was there for the whole world to see. She never felt that it was something he should be ashamed of, and screw anyone who dared shoot a side-eye in his direction.
“I’m terrified,” she admitted. She still couldn’t see her future. She could only bear to take one moment at a time.
“The worst part is over. You’ve already gone through the hell of losing your sight. Imagine losing a little more day by day, knowing it’s coming. That’s what most people here face.”
That sounded awful the way he said that. She couldn’t pretend this wasn’t there. She couldn’t fake her way past this like she had so many other things in her life.
He let out a breath. “Now, are you ready?”
“I’m ready.” Tori nodded.
He placed the cane into her palm. Her thumb grazed the rubber handle, and her mind flashed to her and Scott playing mini golf one summer.
“Now stop holding it like a golf club. This isn’t putt-putt.”
“Mind reader.” Tori chuckled.
By the end of the week, Tori was on information overload. After getting her graduate degree, she figured she was done with school for good. Life’s a fucking bitch, though, and here she was, learning the most simplistic tasks all over again like she was a preschooler.
Her short-term memory was still shit. She was crawling when all she wanted to do was sprint to the finish. Reality was there was no end to this. Part of her wished she’d get used to it, the rebel in her hoped she never would.
She flopped onto her sofa and let out a long breath. She was only there for a few moments before there was a knock at her door. Tori groaned, got up, and answered it.
“It’s me, Char. You got a package.”
“Oh.” Tori tilted her head. “Does it say from whom?”
“Scott Harris.”
A smirk tugged at Tori’s lips.
“Is that your boyfriend?” Char’s voice went up an octave.
Tori made a sour face. “Not exactly.” Tori nodded her head, inviting her in. “I may need your eyes for this.” How in the hell did the sneaky bastard know where she was? She never gave him the address. She prayed to God that Scott didn’t just show up one day out of the blue. She wasn’t ready for that yet.
Char shuffled past her. “Postmarked from Belgrade, no return address.”
Tori curled her lip. Scott was a freaking nomad. That didn’t surprise her one bit. Char put the padded envelope in her hands. Tori ripped open the packaging, reached inside, and felt a small velvet pouch. She had a suspicion what this was. She pulled the strings open, and the necklace fell into her palm.
“Ooh, that’s pretty,” Char marveled. “He knows you. Looks like something you’d wear.”
She rubbed the waxed cotton chord and the round, etched charm. Braille. Of course. Her nose curled. Did he honestly think she’d pick up braille in one week? He was vastly overestimating her processing skills.
“It’s stamped copper. It says—”
“Strength?” Tori took a stab.
“Good job!” Char exclaimed. “See you’re getting it.”
Tori had no idea how she figured it out. It was a damn lucky guess. She h
adn’t even gotten to the end of the braille alphabet yet. She just knew Scott. Her fingers picked up more etchings, but they were so tiny. “What else is on it?”
Char leaned in over her shoulder. “A quote. It says ‘What lies behind us and what lies before us are tiny matters compared to what lies within us - Ralph Waldo Emerson.’” Char sighed dreamily. “That’s beautiful.”
Tori’s eyes moistened, and she blinked quickly. “Yeah, it is.” Tori clutched the necklace tightly in her palm. “He’s always been a great gift giver.”
“Non-boyfriends don’t usually send women gifts—especially jewelry.” Char’s fingernails tapped the table. “Is he heinous or something? A creepy stalker?”
Tori threw her head back and cackled. “Not in the slightest.” Tori fished her phone out of her back pocket and navigated to her photos.
“Album, Scott, two hundred eighty items,” the speaker blared.
“You have an entire album of him, and he’s not your boyfriend?” Tori’s cheeks heated. She realized how odd that must have seemed. After ten years, she’d collected quite a few photos.
“Scott and I are hard to define.” Tori held out the phone as Char grabbed it. “Have a look.” Tori nodded as she fastened the necklace around her neck.
“Holy moly.” Char sucked in a breath. “He’s… He’s…” Tori could only grin like a madwoman. Yeah, Scott had that effect on most women.
“Insanely gorgeous?” Tori finished for her. A pang went through Tori’s heart knowing she’d never see his face again.
“That’s an understatement,” Char marveled. “He’s missing a leg?”
“Yeah, combat injury.”
“Girl, how long have you known this guy? There are like hundreds of photos here.” The phone clicked, and the VoiceOver blared as Char continued to swipe. “Some highly inappropriate ones, I may add.”
Tori snickered. “We've been friends for a long time.”
“I have guy friends, and we sure as heck don’t take photos like these.” Char let out a giggle. “This guy obviously cares for you. You seriously need to snag him up before someone else does.”
“You sound like my sister.”
“Your sister sounds smart.”
“It’s not that simple.” Tori shook her head.
“Do you love him?”
Tori’s lips tightened. She cared for Scott, but love? She didn’t allow her mind to go there. Not to mention, Char was getting personal. They had only known each other for all of five days now, but Tori did feel a bond forming with her. “I can’t think about love right now. My life is a mess. I have nothing to offer him.” She was far too broken and vapid, all her color gone. It started being sucked out when she was young. She fought it over the years the best she knew how. She’d been filling a tub with water that was slowly draining. Going blind depleted the last bit in her. Scott wanted her heart. The problem was her heart was as dark as the room she was standing in. “He wants things that I can’t give him.”
“And what is that?”
Tori strummed her fingertips across the back of the chair. “Marriage, kids…” My heart.
“So, give him that, get married, have kids.” Char said it as if it was simple. “I mean, you two would seriously have the world’s most beautiful children.”
Tori chuckled. “I fear I’d be a terrible mother.” If how she treated Jane growing up was any indication of her parenting skills, she was doomed, and that was before she couldn’t see a damn thing.
“Nonsense.” Char made a pfft noise. “Just because you are blind doesn’t mean you are not deserving of love, or a relationship, or a family. You can still have all those things.”
“Not because of that.” Tori curled her nose, and a thin smile tugged at her lips. “Ok, maybe a little because of that.”
“He’s missing a leg. Seems to me that he’d understand better than anyone else what it’s like to lose part of yourself.” Char let out a heavy breath. “From that gift to you, I think he does.” Char patted her on the shoulder. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Tori.”
The door shut quietly. She reached her trembling hands to the necklace and ran her fingers across the etching. What did the quote say again? Her mind couldn’t recall it precisely. Something about what lies in us is what matters. Before the accident, she would have immediately committed it to memory without having to even look at it.
Tori fiddled with the necklace as she stood there in silence. She snorted. What lies within us. Scott would be appalled if he truly knew what lie beneath her surface.
“Soooo….” Scott’s deep voice bellowed through the phone, “how’s blind school going? Knowing you, after just two months there, I bet you’re practically running the place by now, seducing the teachers…”
“For all I know, they could all be ogres here. I need a sighted wingman to at least clue me in a little,” Tori joked.
“Oh, I bet you know. I have this feeling you have this sixth sexual sense that’s all heightened like a superpower now.”
Tori laughed loudly. She loved how Scott didn’t hold back any punches.
She caught her breath. “I’m getting into the swing of things, bad cane pun totally intended.” It had been lonely, but she wasn’t about to admit that to Scott.
“So, are you ready for a visit? I have another month in Europe, then I’ll be able to come back to DC. I’ve had enough of the European chicks. I need me some good, old American Tori time.”
She bit her lip. Yes, she could have visitors, but she was nowhere near ready for Scott to see her. “Well, I’m in here for another four months, so there isn’t much I can do until then.”
“Alright, lady. Four months from now, you and I have a date set.”
“You got it.” She tried her best to sound like her normal, confident self, although she didn’t feel it at all. “You better get yourself ready for the ride of your life,” she purred. “You’ve never fucked a slutty, blind chick before.”
His laugh bellowed loudly through the line. “I hear they get pretty handsy.”
“Ooh, we’re on a roll with the bad puns today.” Tori giggled. “Goodnight, sexy.”
The line went silent, and she sat there for a minute before she unraveled. For the first time in the two months since the accident, she finally broke. Tears came flowing that she’d been holding back. Every bit of sadness, anger, fear, and frustration that had been welling up inside her that she stuffed or drank down, she freed. She allowed the grief and self-pity to wash over her.
She lay on her side, curled into a ball, and let the tears flow for what seemed like forever. She didn’t want Scott to see her like this—a shell of her former self, vulnerable and isolated in the dark. The old Tori was confident, fun, sexy, and always ready for a good time. She wanted to be that girl again. I will not let this define me. She repeated her mantra in her head.
She lay there for a long time after the tears dried up, nearly drifting to sleep. A knock at her door snapped her to attention. She stood and walked to the door, opened it, and listened.
“Hi Victoria, it’s Chase.” He didn’t have to say his name; she’d know that distinct accent anywhere. “Several of the students and some teachers were wanting to head out for a bit of bowling and wanted to know if you were going to come. I tried ringing, but you didn’t answer.”
My God, that accent is to die for. Tori could listen to him talk all day long.
“Are you ok?” His voice dipped in concern.
“Gosh, I’m so sorry Chase,” she apologized. Tori realized she must look like a mess. She ruffled her hair awkwardly. “I got a phone call from overseas and didn’t want to click over.” Tori didn’t feel like going anywhere, but she figured it would at least get her mind off things. “Let me freshen up, and I’ll be right there.” She paused for a minute, thinking about letting him go on ahead and catching up later with him, but something stopped her. Scott’s words echoed in her mind.
I bet you’re having the run of the place by now…seducing t
he teachers.
That would be what Tori would normally do. Tori was the sexy, fun girl, the mischievous one, the wild beast who never would be tamed. Would she ever be her again?
“You can come in for a second.” She pulled back from the door, opening it further and inviting him in.
There were strict rules about male instructors entering apartments of female students, but Tori sensed she had a bit of a way with Chase. He was silent for a moment as she assumed he debated it.
“Only for a moment.” Chase shut the door behind him.
“So, bowling, huh? A bunch of blind people throwing heavy balls. What could possibly go wrong?” Tori flashed a goofy grin as she walked past him to her bathroom, trailing her finger along the wall.
Chase laughed. “Who do you know overseas? Family member or mate?” he called to her in the other room.
“Just an old friend,” she hollered from her bedroom. “We don’t get to talk often because he travels for work.”
“Oh.” His voice drooped.
Fake it till you make it. Do your thing, girl, the voice in her head urged her. Be her. The best way for her to feel like her old self was to start acting like her old self.
She came out from the bathroom wearing a slouchy sweater and some leggings with tall boots, her long cane tucked under her arm.
“Well, don’t you clean up nice? You look lovely.”
“Thank you.” I’ll take your word for it. “Would you be a dear and fasten this necklace for me? I can’t seem to get the clasp to work right.” Scott’s necklace dangled from her grasp.
“Sure.” His fingers grazed the skin on her neck, sucking in a breath as their skin made contact. “There you go.” He cleared his throat.
“Thank you.” She reached out, squeezed his arm, and stroked it a bit longer than she should, dipping her toe into the shallow end. “What do you look like, Chase?”
“Well, um…” he began. “I have brown hair, blue eyes…”
Chasing Fire: (Fire and Fury Book One) Page 15
