Holding the elegant wine bottle in my hands as Liam drives, I find myself fascinated by the pretty label and the gold lettering. Although I am an expert at tasting wines, I have never actually seen what a bottle looks like. The exterior is just as enchanting as the interior, if not more so. It might only be so bewitching because it’s novel to me, but I suddenly understand that metaphor about a kid in a candy store. Once we got to the liquor shop, I found myself swept away in the beauty of all the glass bottles, each label like a little book cover, enticing you to try the contents.
I assume that judging a bottle by its label is just as foolish as judging a book by its cover, but how can you resist? Some of the labels were so gorgeous that it simply didn’t matter to me what year the wine was from, or how well it was reviewed, or what competitions it won. I simply wanted to stare at all the pretty lettering and soak up all the visual pleasure that has always been denied me.
“I wish I knew the words to describe all these colors,” I say dreamily.
“You used to know them,” Liam tells me. “You taught yourself using paint chips.”
Leaning back in the chair blissfully, I hug the wine bottle against my chest. I wish I could open it right now, but I will probably have to wait until all the medication is out of my system. “I will have to decide whether it’s best to wait until I can remember the colors, or to teach myself all over again.”
“Just enjoy it for now,” Liam recommends. “You don’t need to know the name for everything. If it’s aesthetically appealing, and it gives you pleasure, then that’s enough.”
“But if I don’t know how to describe it all... then how can I write about? How can I give others pleasure?”
“You don’t. You’re still healing, and you need to just relax and focus on getting better.” Liam reaches over and touches my leg. “Hey, Helen? Look around. You’re missing all the scenery!”
It is difficult to tear my eyes away from my wine bottle, but I am stunned to see that we’ve left the dreary city and have been plunged into a sea of green—at least I think it’s green. There are mountains and forests, and all the things I’ve always dreamed of seeing. Leaning forward to gaze up at the magnificent trees, I sigh in contentment. Are they oak? Spruce? Ash? I need to learn those names too.
"This is spectacular," I breathe as we drive through the heavily wooded path. The road feels different now as the perfect pavement has turned into rough gravel beneath the tires of Liam's car. The large, majestic trees lining either side of the road are hanging their branches over us in an almost welcoming fashion.
I can't remember ever having seen trees before, but they look even more grand and stately than I had originally imagined. Their thick, sturdy trunks are surreal in the way that they tower over us like unmovable pillars. The fragility and strength of their intricate branches mesmerizes me as I gaze up into the canopy. I can see the new buds of spring beginning to touch their slender fingers.
Somehow, being able to recognize what everything is in the world around me gives me a sense of pride. I feel like I have been well-prepared for real life by all the books I have read, and all the descriptions I have begged for over the years. I also feel grateful to my imagination for filling in the blanks for decades, and supplying me with the glorious images that I craved.
But Liam's right; nothing can compare to the beauty of reality. Nature really is the greatest artist. I feel like I was never really alive before this moment.
It’s strange to think that if I had never been given the ability to see, I never would have experienced any of this.
Turning to look at the man in the driver's seat with admiration, I try to find the words. “Thank you,” I tell him softly. "You gave me all this."
Liam laughs lightly. "You've already thanked me dozens of times, Helen. Trust me, I did very little."
"Maybe from where you're sitting, it doesn't seem like much. But from over here—you've changed my whole life."
"Well, that goes both ways. You've changed mine," he says quietly.
I study him carefully for a moment, trying to figure out why he seems so sad underneath the surface. Is there something wrong that I'm missing? Something that I don't know about? Thinking of all the possibilities makes my head spin.
"We're almost there," Liam says as he turns onto an even smaller gravel road. "You know, Helen, this place is completely off the map. You sure know how to pick your secluded cabins."
"Is that it up ahead?" I ask, squinting my eyes to try and see better.
"It certainly is. See the GPS? It’s showing that our destination is at the end of a dead-end street."
I glance briefly at the map on his dashboard, interested in all the cool gadgets I’ve never been able to use. However, the looming house up ahead is far more exciting. I don't know exactly what I was expecting to see, but the warmth of the little rustic cabin immediately fills me with joy. I find myself leaning forward in my seat so that I can peer through the trees and better see the little house that I will soon call home. At least for a little while. "It's perfect," I say finally. "I just hope that there's a fireplace."
"There is," Liam says. “I stopped by the cabin to fix it up and clean it out while you recovered. I think you’re going to love it. I did all the manly things that were required, like fixing faucets and setting mouse traps.”
“Mouse traps?” I say in horror. “Why on earth would I buy a cabin that was already occupied by rodents?”
Liam laughs softly. “You wouldn’t. It’s a perfectly fine cabin. I was just teasing you.”
“I see,” I mutter in relief. “Thanks a lot, Boyfriend. You have done your manly duty of raising my blood pressure.”
“It’s my pleasure,” he says with a chuckle. “And Snowball is already settled in at home and waiting for us, so if there are any stray critters, she is sure to have hunted them down and devoured them.”
The idea of spending a little time in a country cabin with our puppy is perfect. While I was in the hospital, Liam managed to sneak her in to meet me, disguising her as a therapy dog. While I didn’t have any memories of the little ball of fur, it was clear that she remembered me by her furious licking and yipping.
Why is it that having the love of a dog is almost as wonderful as having the love of a man? It’s possibly better in some ways. You never have to be suspicious about the dog’s intentions.
As Liam drives up into the driveway of my wooden cabin, I eagerly detach my seatbelt and open the vehicle door. I wince as I try to step out, gripping the doorframe tightly with one hand, and hugging my wine bottle tightly with the other. Liam quickly turns off the engine and moves around the car to help me out. He slips a hand around my waist to help me stand, and simultaneously closes the car door with his other.
Holding me gently, he guides me toward the house. I can already hear Snowball barking at the door in excitement.
"Shouldn't we get the other wine?" I ask him.
"I'll go back for it after," Liam says. "Let's get you settled in first."
I appreciate this, because even sitting in the car for a few minutes has given me a great deal of pain. I don't want to complain, but it could be very nice to lie down for a little. As we approach the door, Snowball's barks get louder. I can't help laughing at her enthusiasm. When Liam turns the key in the lock and opens the door, Snowball goes into a frenzy. She jumps on me and claws at my skirt, pawing and scratching desperately in a desire to be held.
I find myself laughing uncontrollably as I put my wine bottle down and stoop to gather her up into my arms. She reminds me of a child who has been separated from her parent, and I feel suddenly very parental. A frightening thought suddenly strikes me.
What would it have been like if I'd had a baby sometime over the past few years? Would I have forgotten my own child? However, the love I feel from simply holding Snowball in my arms reassures me that it would not matter. Even if I couldn't remember the people I loved, I am sure I could find a way to love them again quite quickly.
Human beings are simply filled with so much love to give that time and memory don't really matter. Our hearts are infinite.
After all, my suave boyfriend seems to be finding his way back into my heart quite quickly.
When I turn to look at him, his eyes are shining with laughter at Snowball's reaction. He is petting her furry white head, and smiling down at me with vast adoration apparent in his face. I am happy. This is perfect. It doesn't matter that I can't remember. It's like living in a dream; I fell asleep and woke up in another world, and had everything I ever wanted.
And this, right here, is the center of it all: I am standing in the beating heart of perfection.
When Liam leans down to place a kiss against my lips, it feels like the most natural thing in the world. I feel like we have done this a thousand times before, and I easily sink against him. When Snowball tries to climb onto my shoulder to join in the action with some vigorous face-licking, it only makes it better as we both erupt into laughter.
"Come with me," Liam tells me as he guides me into the house. "Close your eyes. I have a surprise for you."
"This can't get any better than it already is, Boyfriend," I inform him seriously. I feel like every breath I inhale contains a touch of bliss. Compared to the New York smog I remember, it might as well be. "Just quit while you're ahead."
"Just trust me," he says, taking Snowball from my hands. I suddenly notice that there is a bit of silver glitter in Snowball's fur, and this confuses me. But Liam distracts me by taking both of my hands in his. "Close your eyes," he says again.
"Alright, alright," I say softly, curiously following his instructions. I don't know how he can possibly be cruel enough to ask me to close my eyes. Now that I can see, I wish they could always be open. I let him guide me through the cabin, and I can feel the wooden floorboards shifting and creaking under my steps. The cabin feels rather large as we carefully walk through the space, and I am anxious to open my eyes and look around.
"It's just in here," Liam says, turning a doorknob to open a room.
I am worried for only a second before the fragrance hits me. If I thought the air tasted like bliss before, I was insane.
Roses.
The unmistakable scent invades my senses with a dizzying aroma. I am suddenly certain that I have died. This is too pleasurable to be real. I must have died and gone to heaven... or France. A pair of strong, masculine hands encircle my waist, and I inhale sharply at the heat that begins to creep into my abdomen.
"Liam," I whisper breathlessly as I feel his fingers tighten around my hips. He stands closer to me, so that I can feel his body pressed against my back.
"I knew I could get you to say my name," he murmurs against my ear in a low voice. "Open your eyes, Helen."
Tentatively, with both fear and anticipation, I let my eyelids flutter open. The sight that greets me is the most gorgeous scene that I have ever beheld. Of course, there isn't much competition since I have not beheld very many sights, but it is still so profoundly beautiful that it nearly knocks me off my feet. I always thought the word "swoon" was ridiculous, but I can literally feel my weak knees go even weaker and threaten to collapse simply from visual pleasure.
It is a bedroom. Not just a bedroom, but a fantasy bedroom, filled with bouquets of what must be thousands of white roses-- at least I think they are white. The air is so thick with their fragrance that I can hardly breathe. But if I were to suffocate here, I would die happily in the midst of all this beauty. After staring for a few seconds in amazement, my vision focuses so that I can see another detail: the edges of their petals seem to be dusted with some kind of metallic silver sparkles-- at least I think it might be silver. It is shiny like the letters on the wine labels, but not quite the same color.
I am floored. I lean back against Liam weakly, feeling my heartbeat pounding like a set of war drums within my chest.
This is the most amazing thing that anyone has ever done for me, and it brings tears to my eyes.
Snowball runs forward into the room, barking in joy. She spins around in excitement, before looking up at me with a wagging tongue. "Isn't this the greatest?" she seems to be asking. I couldn't agree more. It is so beautiful that I don't think I am strong enough to stand in this room for a second more without melting into a puddle of ecstasy. Liam's hands on my body and the feeling of his breath on the back of my neck is not helping.
"You missed the most important part," Liam says softly, placing a kiss against my shoulder. "Look up."
Glancing up for the first time, I see silver script on the wooden wall. It takes me a moment to be able to read the sentence, for I am not used to using my eyes to decipher the shapes of letters.
"Winter Rose," I read carefully, before squinting to translate the rest of the sentence from text to speech; "Will you... marry... oh my god!" I immediately feel a rush of heat in my chest as I swivel around like I have been struck. "Liam!" I cry out, grabbing the front of his shirt to keep myself standing. I can hear the sound of my heart hammering nails into my already damaged skull. "Is this...? Are you! But how can you...? Now! Oh my god!"
"I know this is sudden," he explains softly, gripping my shoulders tightly to try to calm me down. "But hear me out. It only seems sudden to you. It's not sudden to me at all. Helen, this has been brewing in the back of my head for the longest while. I wanted to propose sooner, but I delayed too long and I nearly lost you. I'm not going to risk wasting any more time. I know how I feel about you."
"But..." I find myself hyperventilating as I look up into his hazel eyes. My head injury is beginning to ache fiercely, and I imagine that the blood vessels in my brain cannot handle the increased pressure. "I barely know you," I whimper in a pathetic voice. I find myself suddenly falling, and I am grateful that Liam holds me tightly enough to catch me. "I think... I need to sit down," I mumble incoherently, but Liam is already helping me move over to the bed.
Once I am sitting on the edge, I grasp the fluffy white duvet for dear life. Snowball barks at me with concern, moving over to sit near my feet and look up at me in confusion. I take several deep breaths in an attempt to calm the pounding in my skull. I am so humiliated right now. I thought that I was feeling better, and that my injuries weren't that serious or debilitating, but the pain in my head makes me feel like I might have a hundred new forms of brain damage that I am soon to discover.
The biggest form of brain damage that I am concerned about developing is marriage.
I have been so overwhelmed with the pain that I did not notice Liam has stooped to one knee and is holding out a small box. He cracks it open to reveal a slender ring with a stone that I can't identify. All the names of gemstones I've ever heard rush through my mind, and I wonder which one it is. A diamond? Sapphire? Ruby?
"Helen Winters," he says softly. "Will you please do me the honor of becoming my wife?"
I stare at him in disbelief, shaking my head in fear and confusion. "It depends," I mutter. My chest is constricted, and I find myself suddenly coughing violently. "Will you do me the honor of bringing me some water?"