Walk from your core. Lila’s mantra stayed with her whenever she used her cane. Practiced and perfected, she squeezed her stomach muscles inward and held her shoulders back. She tapped the cane in front of her, right to left. Left to right. Repeat. The trusty sneakers she wore made her more confident with walking.
Maggie remained next to her, giving guidance when necessary, though Lila preferred to find her own way. Along with the cane, the sounds and rhythms around her helped guide her. The plaza in the middle of Union Square made for a big challenge with all the intersections teeming with hazards—people, uneven sidewalks, fire hydrants, trash cans, parked strollers or bikes, steps. The list could go on forever, but Lila did her best to avoid letting them get to her.
They were out in the soul of the city on a warm September evening. Lila imagined a bluish-purple night sky with lights on in the buildings.
“Turn right!” Maggie said, grasping Lila’s elbow.
Lila’s careful movements fled her control and she stumbled forward a little. “Maggie,” she said, reclaiming the balance. “You’re going to make me fall.”
“Boy on a skateboard,” she warned, pulling on Lila’s arm.
A woman shouted. Someone yelled an obscenity and a split-second later there was a series of screeching brakes and horns.
“The skateboarder?” Lila guessed.
“Appears so,” Maggie said with satisfaction. “Crosswalk in five steps.”
The swish of their bags brushed against Maggie’s legs with each step. They’d been shopping. Lila needed an outlet after meeting that ray of sunshine known as Damon Harrison. Not that she placed all the blame on him. He had just been doing his job. There was more to the situation that she didn’t want to admit.
She’d been close to her uncle, and of all people, he’d taken the time to teach Lila how to save, invest, to buy only what she needed, and to differentiate financial terms related to stocks and taxes. The meeting with Damon might be over, but the sting of her uncle’s strings attached to her inheritance stayed with her.
She didn’t expect Damon or Maggie or even her cousins to understand. She would have sought out one of her uncle’s lawyers for financial guidance and direction eventually on her own terms. The situation felt so…forced and restrictive. But perhaps she’d been living with the illusion that she had control in the first place.
Damon wouldn’t have been her first choice for someone, but she would let it go. Her uncle was no longer alive and she’d have to adjust. She’d also have to learn to work with Damon in the future and on a continual basis. She thought him difficult, arrogant, and impatient. Sometimes the blind thing worked in her favor though. A few extra sympathy notes usually got her what she wanted. Not with Damon. She got that right away. The rude tone of his voice. The clipped answers. Those irritating sighs.
At least their interaction would be limited. The terms of the will contract made their back-and-forth communication minimal. Any requests for extra funds, investing, or problems, channeled first through the personal assistant.
Still, the meeting left her feeling like an irresponsible teenager even though she held a job. She owned a home. She paid her bills on time and made her own investments. More than anyone, her uncle had both understood and respected Lila’s need to live life on her own terms. The parameters of this will negated some of her trust in him. Her money in someone else’s hands didn’t feel like protection. It felt like control.
Not to mention the ordeal with the ring. She cringed at her lame effort. She really thought her uncle had given her an impressive piece of jewelry! Not a fake. She shuddered. Lila just wanted to put the awkward encounter behind her.
“I’m starving,” Maggie said, interrupting Lila’s thoughts. “Please tell me you want to eat.”
Lila snorted. “I feel more like a drink.”
“You mean like one with actual alcohol? Move left, family of four heading right for you and no one is paying attention.”
“Yes. Wine. Beer. A shot. No, not a shot.” She drew in her cane a little and moved over. Someone bumped her elbow and muttered an apology.
“We’re crossing,” Maggie said at the same time Lila heard the repeating signal chirp.
Careful steps got her to the other side. Other people rushed by her and yet, she didn’t move faster. She stayed steady and on-course. The whir of idling car engines filled her ears like race cars ready to take the green flag.
“There’s a bar around the corner from the lawyer’s office called the Black Heart. It’s good. Gavin and I have been there before.”
Lila laughed. “Sounds like a romantic place for you and your fiancé.”
“You know I’m not a flowers-and-chocolate kind of girl. The place has character. Bitter hearts have a lot of symbolism.”
“I agree with you there.”
They turned around and headed back towards Damon’s office building. Maggie chatted on about family drama, the latest, her mother-in-law was planning a separate engagement party the day after her own mother is throwing one. Maggie’s animated sighs made her think of Damon. All that tension ready to snap.
“Here we are,” Maggie said and without prompting, described the place. “There’s a faded arch and two columns on either side of the door. The door is brown and heavy. Looks old. There’s stained glass windows with all sorts of color. Gavin’s brother Joe would love this. He’s into all the architecture.”
Lines, angles, colors, are things Lila remembered. General shapes and structures she knew too, like a bridge or a high-rise. She liked to hear the details of a setting. It helped her to form an image of her surroundings. She sighed, ready to relax.
Friday night awaited her with open arms. She welcomed the change from staying at home and cooking. Someone opened the door and a blast of cool air hit Lila’s face. Subtle noises from the television played in the background, and closer to her, people laughed. Someone slapped their hand on a table. A girl to Lila’s right laughed deeply. Lila heard every nuance, every sound. Everything. Her hearing compensated for her sight. So did smell. Beer and fried food sent a stab of hunger through her belly. Lila slid her cane closer to her side knowing space must be limited.
“I see a table,” Maggie said, placing her hand on Lila’s arm. “Move fast. There’s one left and this group of girls are eyeing it up and discussing. I think they’re going to make their move.”
Lila’s foot jammed into the chair leg.
“We’ve got it,” Maggie said, pausing to move Lila’s backpack to one of the empty chairs at the table. “Every suit-and-tie in the neighborhood is making an appearance.”
The smooth surface of the tabletop met her palm. “I’m starving,” she said, taking in the smells of greasy bar food.
A waitress stopped by the table and left menus. Maggie read the menu out loud. “The nachos have jalapenos on them,” Maggie said. “You’ll love them.”
The waitress returned and Lila gave their order, plus a pitcher of beer.
“Thanks,” she said, leaving them.
They didn’t have to wait long for their drinks. Lila asked Maggie to pour one for her. At home Lila would do this herself. In public, she didn’t take chances when she had the assistance of friends. The alternative would be to suffer embarrassment and eat with a beer-soaked shirt.
“There you go,” Maggie said. “Gavin should be here soon. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Not at all,” Lila said, reaching out to her glass. Scents of yeast and sugar tickled her nostrils. The smell of beer churned her stomach, but she needed a drink and brought the glass to her lips. “This is what I need.”
“You’re going to want a bigger glass,” Maggie said with disdain.
“Oh?” Lila said, taking another greedy sip. “Why is that?”
“Your lawyer just arrived.”
“My what?” She’d been about to take another satisfying sip, and instead, put the glass on the table. “Not him. Not…”
“Damon is here and he’s not alone,” Maggie informed her. “The woman he’s with is…wow. Stunning.”
“Maybe he won’t notice us. Quick, start talking to me. Tell me more about the wedding. You still haven’t decided on a color theme.” She twirled her finger in a gesture to speed up the conversation.
Someone stopped at Lila’s right side. She straightened in her chair.
“Miss Kent,” Damon said, not thrilled either.
Lila moved her hands to her lap. She frowned with equal disdain. “Who are you?”
“Damon Harrison,” he said, and when she didn’t move a muscle in recognition he added, “your lawyer.”
She angled her face up and nodded. “Oh, yes, Mr. Harrison.”
A woman’s throaty laugh caught Lila’s attention. She raised an eyebrow. Damon’s girlfriend? A date? Wife? A wedding ring might be on his finger and she had no idea without asking Maggie.
Her stomach flipped with nervous tension. The same feeling from this morning’s meeting. Some kind of hyper-female awareness. A feeling, nonetheless, she wanted to force away.
“What are you doing here?” she asked Damon.
“This is a bar. We’re getting a drink,” he said, adding perfunctorily, “we have to go.”
Lila held her breath, listening for them to leave. She didn’t have to wait long. They snuck away before anyone could get in another word.
“They’re gone,” Maggie confirmed in a quiet voice.
Lila released a prolonged breath. She reached for the glass and drank quickly.
A person’s voice gave away insight about his or her feelings. Before losing her sight, Lila didn’t pay much attention to tone. The way someone said a word didn’t make much difference to her. Now, how a person spoke mattered to her. The elevated pitches of anger. The gentle sound of sincerity. A refined inflection of fakeness. Geographical accent variations. She differentiated between all of them. The sound of a voice helped her mind put together the person. She could imagine how they stood, when they spoke. How their lips looked when speaking and the animation in their expression. Damon had not sounded pleased to see her.
“I can’t believe he’s here,” Maggie said. “Twice in one day.”
The pitcher hit Lila’s glass and she moved it forward, accepting a refill. “Did they leave the bar?” she whispered, as if anyone else around them cared about the answer.
“They went to the upstairs. There’s a lounge up there.” Maggie laughed out loud. “Maybe he’s giving her financial advice.”
Lila ignored the joke. “Do you think they’re married?”
“Neither of them wear a ring,” Maggie teased, with a smile no doubt. “Why? Are you interested?”
“No,” Lila said, back pedaling. “Just curious.”
“I know it’s none of my business, but why did you ask me to leave the conference room?”
“You know how I asked you to read up on Mr. Harrison?”
“Yes, although, I would have done it on my own anyway. Gavin said he’s heard of the Harrisons.”
Methods did exist for Lila to surf the Internet, like text-to-voice technology. Most of the time she preferred the smooth and fast sound of a real human’s voice. In the case of asking Maggie to read up on Damon, she didn’t want to listen to her computer speak with that painstaking monotone voice.
“There’s a reason Gavin’s heard of the Harrison name,” Lila said, not sure how much to share with Maggie. “The short of it is, my uncle gave me a ring right before I lost my eyesight. It was such a small thing compared to learning how to live blind. Anyway, I found it and I was curious. You told me how Damon provides legal counsel for his family’s jewelry store and I stupidly thought I could use it as a bargaining chip.” A miserable laugh escaped Lila’s mouth. “The ring in exchange for Mr. Harrison staying out of my finances and out of my life. What was I thinking?”
“Ooh. What kind of a ring?” Maggie said with girlish awe. “And your idea wasn’t foolish.”
“A diamond ring.” The very same ring tucked into her backpack on the chair next to her. “A blue stone.”
“Like a colored diamond? What’s the famous one…” Maggie paused. Her glass hit the table. “The Hope Diamond. That’s it. The one that brings bad luck to all the guards. There’s also the necklace in the movie Titanic. The one the lady throws off the ship. Seemed like such a waste.”
“Mine isn’t worth anything according to Damon.” Lila finished her beer and wiped her mouth. Thanks to the alcohol, talking about her disappointment over the ring didn’t leave a bitter aftertaste. Warmth flushed over her face. “I thought I owned something special. I—never mind, let’s forget it. It doesn’t matter.”
“You’re wrong. This is by far the most exciting thing I’ve heard all week,” Maggie said, adding, “I’m refilling your glass. I don’t care if the diamond is real or not. You said your uncle gave it to you?”
“Yes. Years ago.”
“Please tell me this is the part where your perfect cousins snuck into your room and stole the real ring, leaving you with a fake and now you want your revenge.”
“My cousins are far from perfect. And no, to my knowledge they didn’t break into my room in search of jewels. A plausible scenario, though.”
“Speaking of your cousins, I didn’t want to ask, except I couldn’t help thinking why Arianna and Jeremy were left out of any decisions over your finances. Instead of family or one of his personal lawyers, he put a stranger in charge of your care.” Maggie’s glass thumped on the table. “Gavin’s here! With Joe!”
“Hello ladies,” Gavin said in his distinct warm voice, a familiar, comfortable voice she’d know anywhere.
“Hi, Gavin.” Lila smiled and wiggled her glass at the tall good-looking fiancé with narrow green eyes, and a head full of wispy hair—according to Maggie. The mystery of Gavin’s face remained incomparable to the gorgeous male model she concocted in her own mind. One perk of her condition, she got to create her own visual world.
“Hello? Lila?” Gavin said. “You still with us?”
Someone took her hand and shook it. “Hey, Lila,” Joe said.
Lila smiled. She’d only met Joe once before. “I’m trying to remember what you look like.”
“Handsome, with an awesome body,” Joe offered.
“He’s got to lose fifteen pounds before the wedding,” Maggie said. “We’re ordering another round and then I’m going to find our waitress and figure out the second biggest mystery of the night: what the hell happened to our nachos.”
Joe and Gavin took up the unoccupied chairs, their conversation halting as they looked over menus.
“I have to use the restroom.” Lila stood with a slight sway and a hiccup. Another pint and she didn’t know if she could handle herself. She’d fall all over herself, maybe even slide right out of this chair and onto the floor like a practicing lush.
“I’ll go with you,” Maggie offered.
“Thanks.” Lila hooked her hand around Maggie’s arm.
They made their way to the bathroom with Maggie leading Lila through a maze of tables. A large crowd hung out at this place, judging by the noise drowning out the upbeat music.
“Here you go,” Maggie said. “You want me to wait for you?”
“I’ll find my way back. There’s a long hallway and the entrance on the right. Our table is sixty steps from there with tables on either side, right?”
“I’ll never know how you do that.” Maggie squeezed her arm. “I’ll watch out for you. If I see you run into a wall or sitting at someone else’s table, I’ll come get you.”
“Ha-ha. Very funny,” she said drolly. Years of practicing, counting, and memorizing everything in her world is how she got around. So many steps to this room from that one. Memorizing the placement of tables. The order of the food in her pantry. The organization of cleaning products. Two squares of toilet paper in the bathroom stall.
Lila used the restroom. She washed and dried her hands. The scent of soap lingered. Before she returned to the table, she stood in front of a mirror. A blank slate. Everything in this world she’d gotten used to, except for one. She’d never adjusted to not being able to see her face. The woman in her mind belonged to a sixteen-year-old girl with plain brown eyes and pale skin. Lila ran her hand through hair. Using a paper towel, she blotted her face, careful to wipe under her eyes in case her mascara had smeared.
Not willing to let the alcohol turn her mood against her, she committed herself to continuing the buzz and having one more beer. It did feel good to be out. She emerged from the bathroom eager to get back to her friends. The wall on her right guided her as she traced it with her fingers and walked forward. A doorknob she felt beneath her palm. A photo framed on the wall. Her hand shot out and hit something hard, like muscles. She retracted her hand. “Sorry,” she said, reaching out again and expecting the person to get out of the way.
“Miss Kent,” said a deep voice.
The confident tone landed straight on her heart. Nerves fluttered through her stomach. Not again, not after the alcohol worked to subdue her unease. “Lawyer,” she said, with a hiccup and squinted, trying to do an impression of glare.
“You can call me Mr. Harrison,” he said, removing her hand.
“Mr. Harrison,” she repeated, expecting him to move. She continued to take a step forward. He did not. A crisp smell intoxicated her senses, like a bottle of autumn and the cool night air sprinkled on his clothes. Lila breathed in again to get another whiff. “You smell so good,” she said softly.
“Are you drunk?” he clipped.
“No,” she said, offended. “I gave you a compliment.”
“I receive a lot of compliments from women.”
“Good for you.” Unashamed and cocky. Lila knew better than to stick around for this one. Men like Damon she avoided on purpose. “I need to get back to my friends.”
Unmoving he said, “So go.”
This wasn’t like her to…stay, but her legs didn’t seem to want to move. “I would but your mouth keeps getting in the way.”
Damon laughed. “No one’s ever complained about that before.”
“To your face,” she said, burning up with embarrassment.
He said nothing.
Lila didn’t know what to say. A joke that backfired. Wonderful.
“I have something to ask you,” he said, no longer amused. Damon’s finger touched her chin. She flinched, but he held her there, shifting her face up to his. “There. Now we’re looking at each other’s eyes.”
Warm breath, tinged with alcohol blew on her lips. The motion so subtle, yet strong enough to stir up weakness in her heart. Years of holding men at a distance threatened her with his nearness. She didn’t like the effect he had on her.
Lila’s heart ran away from him, from this, and whatever he did to make her feel this way. She fixed the problem with a frown and moved on. “What do you want to ask me?”
“The ring you showed me today…”
Of course. The ring.
“I would like to show it to my brother after all.”
“No thank-you.” She didn’t want to discuss the ring or their awkward encounter in his office. “I’ve changed my mind,” she added, feeling so foolish and stupid for whatever attraction she felt about him. There was no way he felt the same. She blamed the beer. No, she knew better.
“I noticed your backpack is with you. Do you still have the ring?”
Eager to be anywhere but in front of him, she shook her head. “Like I said, it doesn’t matter. Forget I ever showed it to you.” She moved to the right, evading him. “I want to get back to my friends now. Good-night, Mr. Harrison.”