Clarity (8 page)

“I’m sorry,” Liam says in a low voice. His breathing is ragged, as though his chest might be shaking with bottled rage. “I wish that hadn’t happened to you.”

I am a little surprised by his tone. He sounds like he cares, and might actually be really upset on my behalf. “Maybe it was for the best,” I muse, to myself more than the men. “Maybe it ended up pushing my life in the right direction.”

“What do you mean?” Liam asks sharply. “How could
this
be the right direction?”

“Well,” I say gently. “I had been working on a manuscript in my free time, but I was so busy with school that I probably would have never finished it. Even if I did, I wouldn’t have had the time to look for a publisher. I probably would have kept pursuing my education until I was a doctor like you guys. But after that happened to me…” I laugh lightly at the situation. “There was nothing I could do
except
for writing! I couldn’t leave the house due to crippling social anxiety. I couldn’t even get out of bed for a while. Writing was the only job where I didn’t need enough energy to get dressed and face the world. I only had to face what was inside myself.” I hesitate. “This might sound silly, but it’s like the universe
wanted
me to write. So it stripped me of my ability to do anything else. I wish it could have been a little less harsh with its methods, but what can you expect? It’s the universe.”

“That wasn’t the universe,” Liam says with a growl. “That was some fucking worthless jackass…”

“Shut up,” Owen whispers to his friend angrily. “Stop talking about it, or you’ll make it worse!”

“How can I make it worse?” Liam asks, also in a whisper. “It’s pretty damn bad already.”

Owen makes a noise of frustration. “Dude, why’d you have to go and ask her about her secrets? Now you’ve made things all uncomfortable. We still have a few hours left of driving. Now I’m nervous and I don’t know what to say to lighten the mood. Why’d you have to be so inappropriate and personal?”

“Me?” Liam whispers to his friend angrily. “You’re the one who talked about graphic porn for almost four hours. To a girl who’s been raped. Did you ever think that maybe the last thing she might want to hear about is kinky sex?”

“You both fail at whispering,” I inform them. I hear them hanging their heads like sad puppies. “Guys, it’s cool,” I tell them, lifting my hands in a gesture meant to tell them to calm down. “I’m over it, really.”

“You don’t seem to be over it,” Liam said skeptically. Something seemed to click in his brain as his voice changed. “Oh. That’s why you kept flinching and getting upset when I tried to guide you earlier…”

“Yeah, so I have a few lingering issues,” I admit. “It’s not a big deal. I’ve mostly sorted it out.”

“Mostly sorted it out?” Liam demands. “Mostly?”

I send him a curt nod. “I’m here, aren’t I? I’m taking a chance and going on a road trip with two men I just met.”

“But you need counseling,” Liam said with concern.

“I gave myself counseling,” I explain. “You see, at first, I blamed my disability. I thought it was because I couldn’t see, that someone would take advantage of me like that. I thought that it was a weakness; a vulnerability. I thought I wasn’t fit enough for society. But I did some reading on the subject, and now I realize that… it happens to lots of people. It was just a random crime. Lots of people commit random crimes, and target people who are weaker than they are. Lots of people like to inflict harm on others, especially if the others seem like easy targets.” I give the men a sad little smile. “So, that’s why I generally try to avoid people. It’s safer.”

“That’s really sad,” Owen says in a depressed tone.

“I don’t mind being alone,” I tell him. “Writers need their solitude anyway. I think it suits me.”

“Helen?” Liam asks softly. “Don’t let a few bad apples ruin all of humanity for you. Most of us are good. Most of us genuinely care for others, and don’t get pleasure out of hurting those who seem fragile and down on their luck. In fact—some of us thrive on healing others. Some of us will go out of our way to try to help someone we’ve never met. I hope you’ll see that soon. I hope you’ll see
everything
soon.”

I send a smile in the direction of the doctor in the driver’s seat. He says such sweet things, and it’s starting to get under my skin more than a little. “Maybe I will,” I say in a flirtatious tone, “but for now, let’s focus on getting our story straight. I hope you own a tux. How long have we been dating, honey pants?”

“Long enough for you to know that I don’t like being called ‘honey pants,’” Liam answers in dismay.

“What do you prefer? Sweet cheeks? Stud muffin? Cuddly bear?” I ask teasingly. “Help me out, Owen. I can’t see what he look like.”

“Hmm,” Owen says thoughtfully. “How about ‘handsome tiger’?”

“You think I look like a handsome tiger?” Liam asks his friend, and it’s obvious that he’s flattered.

I burst out laughing. “I think
you two
have some deep, dark secrets you need to discuss. Now I know what we’re going to talk about for the rest of the drive. Owen, do you find Liam attractive?”

“Well, he has these intense hazel eyes,” Owen explains, “and when he gets angry, he does sort of resemble a tiger about to pounce.”

“Wow! That’s really nice of you to say, man,” Liam says. He puts the car in gear and begins to drive out of the rest stop. “I’m touched.”

“This reminds me,” I tell the men, leaning forward, “of a gay erotica story I read once. It started exactly like this, with two close friends and colleagues exchanging a casual compliment that turned into more…”

“I don’t want to hear that story,” Owen said sharply, cutting me off.

“What?” I say, feigning hurt. “But you shared all your stories! That isn’t fair. Don’t you want to hear the tale of two athletes, training late one day at the gym? One of them catches sight of his buddy in the showers…”

“Dammit,” Liam says. “This is going to be a long trip.”

“Maybe I shouldn’t have been talking about porn so much,” Owen says, wincing.

I smile and proceed to torture them with my words. If my words are the only power I have, I intend to use them well.

“This can’t be right,” Liam said in disbelief. “Helen, I think you gave me the wrong address.”

“No. This should be the right house,” I tell him with embarrassment.

“Jesus. This is where you grew up?”

“Yes,” I say shamefully. People often have this sort of reaction upon viewing my childhood home. I hear the men staring at the house in silence. Groaning, I unbuckle my seatbelt and fiddle with the handle of my backpack. I know that I should leave them and go inside, but I’m a bit apprehensive about the reunion with Carmen and my father.

“How many rooms are in that thing?” Owen asked with a gulp.

“I don’t know,” I say with a shrug. “Fifteen?”

“Fifteen,” Liam repeats.
“Fifteen!”

“Something like that,” I mumble.

“Why the hell were you living in a tiny cabin out in the middle of nowhere when you come from money like this?” Owen asks.

“Money isn’t everything,” I respond glumly.

“She’s crazy,” Owen tells Liam, “batshit crazy! But it’s okay to date a crazy chick if she’s rich and pretty.”

“It’s just a fake date for the wedding, man,” Liam said in protest. “Stop taking it so seriously.”

“But now you have to make it serious,” Owen told his friend earnestly. “You need to seduce her, so you can move into this house and I can come visit you. We could shoot pool. I bet there’s a billiards table in there!”

“I’m not going to seduce Helen just so that we can play billiards in her fancy house,” Liam tells his friend sternly. Then he hesitates. “But I might do it for the tennis court and indoor swimming pool…”

“Indeed,” says Owen. “Think of all the fun we could have! Maybe you could just quit your job and mooch off her.”

“There
are
a few television shows I wish I had time to watch,” Liam says thoughtfully.

“Guys,” I say with mock annoyance. “I’m
right here.
”

“Sorry. Forgot all about you, little lady!” Owen said exuberantly. “I’m too distracted by this big, shiny mansion. Look at those skylights! And the balconies!”

“Even the trees! Even the shrubbery!” Liam declares. “Owen, have you ever seen such perfect, nicely shaped bushes?”

“Yes. Haven’t I been talking about porn for hours? I thought I mentioned those!”

I chuckle to myself softly. “Okay, boys. Calm down. It’s just a house. You know, those things people live in? It’s not really that special.”

“Just a house!
Just a house!”
Owen repeats. “Are you blind? Oh—wait. Sorry, it’s just a phrase. I meant, like—metaphorically blind.”

I make a face at his lackluster attempt at humor. “Thanks.” I fiddle with my backpack some more, trying to think of something to say to stall leaving the car. “I just…”

“What’s wrong, Helen?” Liam asks.

Blinking, I shake my head. “I have a bad feeling,” I murmur, feeling stupid as the words leave my mouth.

“Of course you feel bad,” Owen responds. “You feel bad that you’re a loaded super-millionaire while your new friends are just poor, struggling doctors who can’t even afford a one-bedroom apartment because of their astronomical student loans. You feel bad and want to share the wealth, don’t you?”

Liam clears his throat. “Maybe if you had focused a little more in school, you could have gotten some scholar…”

“No!” Owen shouts, plugging his ears. “How dare you speak that word in my presence?”

“What word?” Liam asks with a chuckle. He raises his voice purposefully.
“Scholarships?”

Owen lets out a mournful wail. “Nooo! Shut up, Liam. No one wants to hear about you and your stinking scholarships.”

Liam turns to me with a chuckle. “I believe someone watched too much porn when he should have been studying.”

“If they’re playing doctor, it counts as studying,” Owen said defensively.

My cheeks are hurting from smiling. These two men have kept me entertained with their outrageous banter almost consistently since we left my cabin. I haven’t smiled this much in as long as I can remember. But I know that once I step through the front door of my old house, my smile will disappear. I remember how the atmosphere hung heavy with death and despair, so thick that I could barely breathe. It was my father’s grief; he carried it around with him in a dark cloud that poisoned everything. Maybe things will be different now? Maybe now that Carmen is getting married, we can finally be positive and look to the future?

“Are you going to go home, Helen?” Liam asks me. “Didn’t your sister need you?”

I fold my hands together in my lap and press them together tightly. “They’re going to be angry with me for leaving,” I mumble.

“Do you want to drive around for a few more minutes and gather the courage to go inside?”

“No, I should be strong and stop delaying this,” I say with resolve. I am tempted by Liam’s offer. I would love nothing more than to spend just a little more time relaxing with the guys and making ridiculous jokes. I have only just met them, but they feel like old friends. However, I did manipulate the poor boys into driving me all this way. I can’t back out now. “It can’t be that bad,” I say, trying to reassure myself. “I’m sure things are different than when I left.”

“Give me your phone,” Liam requests.

I reach beside me to Owen’s leather seats, and feel around for a moment before grasping my cell. I extend the small device toward Liam. He takes it from my hand, and immediately begins pressing buttons.

“I’m putting my number in here so you can tell me the details of the wedding,” he explains. “You can call or text to let me know when and where I should meet you later today.”

“Thank you,” I tell him quietly, accepting the return of my phone.

“You can also let him know if your house happens to be infested with giant mutant cockroaches,” Owen says with a chuckle, “and he can come to your rescue. Seriously, Helen. From the look on your face, you’d think you were heading into an alien war-zone.”

“That’s exactly the way I feel,” I say with a grimace. I sling my backpack over my shoulder and run my hands over the car door, looking for the handle. “Thanks for driving me, guys. It was really nice of you.”

“Well, we made a bargain that helps our careers!” Liam says in a positive tone. “It’s a win-win situation.”

Finally managing to unlatch the car door, I place one foot outside on the ground. “It was great meeting you, Owen. Thanks for educating me on the wonders of porn.”

“Once we get your vision working, I’ll have to make popcorn and schedule a movie night,” Owen says gravely. “It will blow your mind.”

“I can’t wait,” I say, half-sarcastically and half-enthusiastically. Yes—being able to see anything at all would be a blessing; even porn. The popcorn doesn’t sound terrible either, I realize, as my stomach growls eagerly at the idea. My mouth begins to water in yearning for the fluffy, buttery kernels. It is my appetite that finally motivates me to step out of the car; even if there is nothing pleasant or welcoming in that house, at the very least, there will be a delicious meal waiting for me. Not protein shakes, granola bars, popsicles, or potato chips. Real food.

A smile finally comes to my lips. “Well, I guess it’s time to go in there and face the music! Will you pop the trunk, Liam?”

“Sure. Let me come out and help you,” he says.

“No, no. I’ll be fine,” I assure him as I walk around to the back of the car. I place my hand on the trunk of the car to lift the lid, but I feel another hand rest lightly on top of mine. I am momentarily startled, but I do not pull away this time. I have grown more comfortable around Liam in the past few hours of chatting.

“Allow me,” he says gently, as he removes my hand from the car. “I insist.”

A feeling of warmth flushes my neck as I feel his thumb brush against the palm of my hand. His touch is gone as soon as it came, and I hear him lifting the heavy suitcase onto the ground. The sound of the metal sliding against metal is heard as he extends the handle, followed by a loud click. 

“I’ll walk you to the door,” he says.

Reaching out, I firmly take the suitcase from his hands. “You’ve been a real gentleman, Liam, but I can take it from here. If my sister sees you, she’s going to attack you with all sorts of questions. You should probably go home and get some rest.”

“Are you sure? I don’t mind a few questions…”

“Liam, there’s something worse than mutant cockroaches in that house,” I warn him ominously. “There’s a fearsome creature that no man can ever hope to vanquish: the neurotic Bridezilla.”

He laughs lightly. “Do you think you can survive her reign of terror?”

“Sure,” I say softly. “It’s only one day. I owe her this much, at least—especially after abandoning her for so long…”

“Don’t feel guilty for that,” he assures me. “It sounds to me like you needed to get away for your sanity and your career. Sometimes, the best thing you can do for another person is to leave. You need to take care of yourself before you can hope to take care of anyone else—you have to shake off all the negativity that’s smothering you so that you don’t drag others down.”

“But I don’t know if I’m at that place yet,” I confess. “This is so sudden. I was uprooted from my home before I really got a chance to decide that I was ready. I don’t know if I can handle this—being in the city again. The air smells different, and it’s so loud—even all the way out here in the suburbs.”

“Just take it slow,” he says. “Take it one day at a time. If you hate it here, you can always go back. I’ll drive you myself, if you need a ride.”

“Everything’s a mess,” I mumble. “I don’t know where to begin. How do I repair the relationships I ruined?”

“Just try,” he tells me. “All you can really do is try.”

Although his words are simple, I feel a little bolder. I realize that I am having trouble ripping myself away from him. Kicking the bottom of my suitcase while tugging the handle toward me, I set the heavy luggage at an angle that is easier to roll along the cobblestoned path to my front door. “Thanks,” I call over my shoulder, as I begin to walk away. “I’ll see you later.”

“Good luck!” he shouts after me.

“Liam’s really easy when he’s drunk!” Owen yells from the car. “Just wear something nice, and make sure he has a few drinks later—you’ll definitely get lucky.”

I make a face and shake my head as I march along the path to my front door. The wheels of my suitcase rattle and jangle against the cobblestones with a rhythmic drumbeat. It makes the perfect soundtrack for my impending doom. I hear the sound of rushing water to my left, and I am surprised that the fountain in our front yard is running in the winter. It must be because we have family from out of town staying at the house for the wedding. This thought makes me even more anxious. I have never fared well in large crowds.

When I feel the ground become smoother beneath my feet, and my suitcase becomes quieter, I know that I am walking on the concrete closer to the stairs. I slow down my walking a little, and slide my feet along the ground tentatively until my toes collide with the stairs. It occurs to me that I haven’t heard Liam and Owen drive away, so I try to be as graceful as possible when I reach down to lift my suitcase, and drag it up the stairs. I count the five steps up to our porch, and place my suitcase down on the flat ground. I suppose the men are waiting to see me enter the house before leaving, and I turn to send a wave in the direction from which I came. If they aren’t waiting, or even paying attention, this might look silly—waving at nothing like a fool. However, I would rather risk looking like an idiot than seeming impolite or ungrateful in this moment.