Clarity (7 page)

“I really don’t want to know,” Liam says.

“Helen wants to know!” Owen protested. “You want to know, don’t you Helen? Don’t you want to hear about how that sweet, sweet popsicle got shoved up someone’s…”

“Hey,” I said softly, cutting him off before he can assault my eardrums again. “Can you guys both do me a favor?”

“Sure,” Owen says, and he seems suddenly attentive. He seems to know that I need him to pause his joking around for a moment.

“Okay,” I begin. “First of all, I don’t really believe that either of you are capable of considering me a friend.”

“Helen!” Liam says in angry surprise.

“Wait, listen,” I urge him. “I’m a female, and soon I’ll be your patient—I also think I’m a few years younger than you guys, although you act like adolescents. I’m also disabled. All of this would allow most people to automatically consider me inferior in several ways; it would be hard for you to consider me an equal. I know how the minds of men work. However, if you are intent on continuing this charade and pretending to be my friend, could you please stop calling me Helen? I changed my name, and I don’t like being called that.”

The men seem to be sharing an uncomfortable look as they silently disagree with my statement. I can
hear
the way they are looking at each other, and hear them choosing not to argue with me.

“What do you want us to call you?” Owen asks. 

“Winter,” I tell him. “Please call me Winter.”

“Oh! Like the name on your books,” Owen muses. “Sure thing.”

“I don’t know if I can do that,” Liam admits. “You feel more like a Helen to me.”

“Please,” I coax him. “It really bothers me.”

“Why?” he asks again.

My lips curve upward into a smile, and I am almost certain he is peeking into the rearview mirror to examine my expression. “That’s another deep, dark secret,” I tell him, trying to make light of my own psychosis. I return to gazing out the window, even though the act is futile. I wish Liam and Owen would tell me what’s going on outside the car in the world around us. I wish I wasn’t too embarrassed to ask. I try to imagine breathtaking landscapes to distract me from Owen’s disturbing visuals, and I manage to transport myself away in my mind.

“I’m getting too tired to drive,” Liam says gruffly. “My eyes are closing. I’m sorry.”

“No worries,” I tell him. “I know you weren’t planning on doing this tonight. Sorry for roping you into it.”

“I decided to give you a ride because I wanted to. You should be at your sister’s wedding,” Liam says. His voice is laced with sleepiness as he turns to his friend. “Hey, Owen? Can you take over, man? I’m seriously fading fast here. Getting tunnel vision, and everything.”

His question is answered by a loud snore.

“Dammit,” Liam mutters.

“I wish I could take over,” I say in disappointment. “I’m wide awake.”

“Do you mind if I stop at a motel, Helen?”

I am a little annoyed that Liam won’t even attempt to call me by the name I prefer. “I think I made an error in judgment,” I inform him.

“What do you mean?” he asks,

“From the sound of your voices, I would have guessed that you guys were no older than your early thirties…”

“We’re actually both in our late twenties,” Liam tells me. “I’m 28, and he’s 29.”

“But you get tired fast,” I tease, “like old men.”

Liam laughs lightly. “I know we seem childish and carefree,” he says, “but we actually do have crazy hours. It’s Friday night, so you can bet that we both haven’t had a full night’s sleep all week.” He yawns loudly. “Okay, I can’t even make it to a motel. I saw a sign for a rest stop a few miles back, and I’ll pull over as soon as I see it. I think Owen has blankets in the trunk.”

“A rest stop?” I ask nervously. “Is that safe?”

“It’s safer than crashing and dying.”

I ponder this for a moment, but as I’m worrying, I feel myself beginning to yawn. I must be getting old, too, for I could also use a nap. When Liam pulls over and parks the car, I am already dozing off. I hear the car door open and close as he moves to the trunk to gather blankets. He opens the door nearest to me and drapes a blanket over my legs. 

“Feel free to lie down and get comfortable,” he tells me.

“Would it be better for you to come and rest in the backseat?” I offer quietly.

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” he says. “I’ll be fine in the front.” He shuts the door and moves back around the car to the driver’s side. Once he gets into the car, he locks the doors and turns the heat up. “Wow, Owen is completely out,” he observes as he tugs a blanket over his friend. “He doesn’t seem to mind sleeping like this. I think I’m tired enough not to care.”

I unbuckle my seatbelt and stretch my legs out on the seat. My feet collide with my backpack, and I reach out to lift it and place it on the ground to give myself more room. I begin to feel slightly guilty that I have so much space while the men are cramped in the front of the car. I assume that they are both far taller than me, and they must be very uncomfortable. I arrange the blanket over my legs, looking awkwardly in the direction of the tired doctors.

“Liam,” I whisper, trying not to disturb Owen.

“I wish you could see this,” he responds.

I hesitate. “See what?”

“The stars. We’re still out in the country, so the light pollution from the cities isn’t hiding them from view quite as much as I’m used to. They’re just blanketing the entire sky, like snowflakes on asphalt. There’s also a little sliver of moon; not big or bright enough to distract from the stars.”

“What does it look like?” I ask him softly.

“The moon?” He pauses thoughtfully. “It’s like… God’s fingernail clipping.”

This causes laughter to bubble up in my throat. I touch one of my fingernails to refresh my concept of the shape. I trace the gentle curvature and imagine the moon. “Thanks,” I tell him softly, pulling the blanket snug around my neck. “I can see it clearly.”

“Good. I’m going to have to turn off the car now,” he tells me. “If I leave it running, the battery might die, and then we’d be in a pickle. If you get too cold, let me know.”

Nodding, I try to get comfortable. My legs are feeling a little frozen, so I bring them closer to my body. I wrap my arms around my middle, hugging myself. Listening carefully, between the sounds of Owen’s snoring, I hear Liam’s teeth chattering. I suddenly feel awful for making him do this. I consider inviting him into the back seat again, and maybe moving close to him so that we can both keep warm. The idea makes me a bit nervous, but it’s the least I can do since I got us into this mess. As my shoulders begin to tremble violently, I acknowledge that having some body heat near to mine does not sound so terrible at the moment.

“Liam,” I whisper again. “Are you sure you don’t want to…” Halfway through my sentence, I realize he is asleep. I can hear the change in his breathing. I am saved from needing to ask an embarrassing question, and potentially getting into an even more embarrassing situation. As I drift off to sleep, I imagine countless snowflakes scattered over asphalt. It’s an enchanting image, and I might use it in a book someday. I can also picture the glowing fingernail of God, scratching the sky fondly, the way one might caress a sleeping pet.

I must have dozed off for a few hours, when a piercing noise startles me awake. For a moment, I’m not sure where I am, or why there’s hard plastic digging into my back and making my spine ache. I try to move, and find that my whole body feels frozen. When I hear a man groan, and another curse, I am reminded that I am in a vehicle with two strange young doctors.

The high-pitched noise continues to drone on, and I realize that it is my cell phone. I reach down to my backpack and fumble to unzip it with my stiff fingers. The metal is cold and it makes me wince.

“Answer it already!” Owen says with sleepy annoyance.

“I’m trying,” I say as I feel around for my phone. When my hand finally connects with the item, it takes me a few tries to answer. “Hello?” I finally say, bringing it close to my ear. My voice is hoarse and my hands are so cold that they hurt. When I breathe out, I can almost feel the cloud of water vapor hovering around my face. There is nothing on the other end of the line. “Helloooo?” I say again.

The sound of soft crying filters into my ear.

“Carmen?” I say with concern, sitting straight up and at alert. “Is everything okay?”

“No. No. I’m freaking out.” She takes several deep breaths, trying to calm herself down. “I’m getting married today.
Today.
”

“Just relax,” I command in a stern, take-charge voice. “What’s going on?”

“Oh, Helen. I’m just so stressed out. Where are you? I was hoping you’d show up last night. Aren’t you coming? I thought you’d be coming.”

“Yeah,” I tell her, groaning and repositioning my sore body. Liam has turned on the car to begin warming us up, but it hasn’t started working yet. “I’m on my way to you. I was living in New Hampshire, so it’s a bit of a trip.”

“Thank goodness,” Carmen says, and her tears abate almost immediately. “I can’t wait to see you! How long until you get here?”

“Uh. I don’t know. A few hours?”

“Great! Oh, I’m so glad you’re coming home, Hellie. I invited a bunch of great guys that I went to school with, so maybe I can introduce them to you, and one of them can be your date!”

“Wait, what?” I say grouchily, blinking and rubbing my eyes. My vision might not work, but my eyes still feel gross after sleeping for a few hours. “A date? Why do I need a date?”

“Because you’re my sister! You can’t be single at your sister’s wedding. Everyone knows that. We need to find a handsome man for you to wear on your arm. There’s this guy, Brad—I met him in a philosophy class, but now he’s a copyright lawyer. He’s very passionate about intellectual property. I figured that you two might have something in common, since he sort of works with books?”

“Carmen, are you insane?” I say angrily, clutching my head. “I don’t want to date some douchebag lawyer. I’m coming to your wedding because I care about
you
, not because I want to get set up with random freaks. With your horrible taste in men? Brad is probably a closet serial-killer.”

“No way! He’s a total sweetheart. You’re going to love him. In addition to being Grayson’s best man, he’s also
so
sexy…”

“No,” I say firmly. “Carmen, do you hear me? I swear to God. If you set me up with someone, I’m not coming. I am not in the mood for this garbage.”

“But… Helen. You have to come. I told Daddy that you were coming, and he already bought your favorite red velvet cupcakes.” Carmen sighs. “I didn’t want to tell you this, but Dad hasn’t been doing so well lately. He had a minor heart attack…”

“A heart attack?” I repeat dumbly. Remembering my mother’s death, my entire body is seized by a panic. “Is he… is he okay?”

“Sure. He’s fine, but he’ll be better if you get your cute butt down here!”

I shove my forehead into the upholstery of the backseat. “Carm, are you lying to manipulate me?”

“No way, honey. I’m just reminding you of your responsibility to your family,” Carmen says innocently. “And part of that responsibility is to date Brad!”

I gnash my teeth together angrily. An idea suddenly strikes me. It’s horrible, but it just might work. I glance toward the front seats where the two doctors are sitting, and I bite my lip as a smile begins to transform my features.

“No,” Liam whispers. “Whatever you’re planning, don’t do it!”

I have to ignore him for the sake of self-preservation. “I have to be honest with you, Carmen. The reason I didn’t want to date Brad… is because I have a boyfriend. I’m bringing a date to your wedding.”

Liam groans and Owen chuckles.

“You
have a boyfriend?” Carmen exclaims in shock. “You? No way! Little Hellie has a boyfriend? I don’t believe it!”

“Yeah. I didn’t want to tell you because… I wanted to surprise you,” I lie awkwardly. “He’s… uh… he’s a doctor.”

“Pick me,” Owen whispers. “Pick me!”

I am stricken with a mental image of Owen enthusiastically discussing porn with my sister and family. I shudder. There is also the fact that he has a girlfriend, and this makes me uncomfortable—even for a fake date. I don’t have many options.

“What’s his name?” Carmen asks. “When do I get to meet him?”

I mouth the words
I’m sorry
to Liam before responding. I hope he’s not too upset. Shutting my eyes tightly and making a face, I prepare to lie through my teeth. “His name is Dr. Liam Larson. He’ll be arriving with me later today.”

Owen immediately begins laughing, but he clamps his hands over his mouth to muffle the sound.

“Gosh, Helen! That’s so exciting. A doctor! Wow! I’m so happy for you.” Carmen lets out a feminine squeal. “So tell me, is he great in bed?”

I start coughing violently. I press a hand over my face to hide my embarrassment. Owen makes a low whistle; he has partly climbed over the seats in order to press his face close to my phone and listen to everything that Carmen is saying.

“Uh, yeah,” I say awkwardly into my cell. “He’s, uh, really great in bed. Like, the greatest.”

“Oh, brother,” Liam mutters under his breath. “How do I get myself into these things?”

“There’s a porno that starts
just like this!”
Owen whispers excitedly to his friend.

Carmen sighs happily. “This is such good news, darling!” she says in a wavering voice. “I’m—I’m sorry to have called so late. I know I probably woke you up. I—I just wanted to hear your voice. I’m so glad you’re coming. I have been hoping and praying to see you again for the longest time.” She begins to cry again softly.

“Carm?” I say in concern. “Are you sure everything’s good?”

“Oh, yes. I’m just—just don’t mind me. You know weddings make me emotional. I’ll see you soon, Hellie? You and your dashing doctor?”

“Yeah. See you soon.”

She hangs up the phone, and I do too. I let my head fall into my hands for a moment, as I go over the entire conversation a few times in my mind. I am left with the urge to scream at the top of my lungs, and run out into the forest, never to see these doctors again. “This is so humiliating,” I whisper. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I said that. Carmen just gets under my skin.”

“Why didn’t you pick me?” Owen said in disappointment.

“Liam’s more suitable,” I explain with a groan. “He’s read my books, so he knows a little about me. He can bullshit that we have some previous connection. And also, he’s less likely to talk about porn.”

“Fair enough,” Owen said unhappily, “but I would have liked to be a wedding crasher.”

“Is your sister okay?” Liam asks. “Does she usually call you at 5 AM?”

“Whoa,” I say in surprise. “Is it 5 AM?” My first thought is that something must be terribly wrong. I consider this for a moment. “It’s probably just pre-wedding jitters,” I tell the guys, trying to brush it off.

“So you really want me to come with you, as your date?” Liam asks me.

“Yes,” I say quietly. “I’m so sorry. What can I do for you in return?”

“Well, since you offered,” Liam responds, “I would like some information.”

“Information?” I ask with a frown.

“Yes,” Liam says. “Remember all those deep, dark secrets I said I’d extract from you? Well, if you share them with us, then I’ll be your date for your sister’s wedding.”

This is probably the worst thing he could have requested. My mouth feels suddenly very dry. “Um. Isn’t there anything else you might want? Maybe I could dedicate my next book to you?”

He laughs lightly. “You’re going to do that anyway once I get your sight back.”

I rack my brain, searching for something I could give him. “I’ll have my publisher put out a press release,” I offer, “or maybe schedule an event, like a book launch. We can publicly declare that you’re the hero who helped the semi-famous blind author Winter Rose to see. Even if it doesn’t work, and I can’t see, I’ll pretend like I can, and you’ll probably get tons of research grants and stuff.”

“I’m pretty sure that you’re going to do that anyway,” Liam tells me, “because it’s a good story that will sell books.”

“Okay,” I mumble, getting desperate. “How about I name a character after you?”

“That would be nice,” Liam says. “I’ll take all of the above, but I’ll still need one additional thing to sweeten the pot. Information.”

“Why?” I moan in protest.

“Because I’m curious,” he answers in a good-natured way. “Come on. It can’t be that bad. Tell me your deepest, darkest secrets.”

I sigh. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“Really? Right here. Right now? In front of Owen?”

“Yeah, why not?” Liam says cheerfully. “He’s been telling us way more than we need to know for a while.”

“I want to hear, too,” Owen chimes in.  “Entertain us, storyteller!”

I spend a moment gathering my composure. I smooth my hands over my legs, and look around uneasily. Taking a deep breath, I try to mentally prepare myself for what I’m about to say to two complete strangers.

“Well… three years ago, I was raped.”

A hush falls over the car. I can feel the men looking at each other. They obviously don’t know how to respond, and the silence is growing tense.

“I guess it’s not really a big deal,” I say lightly. “I know it happens to a lot of people. I probably shouldn’t have let it bother me as much as it did, but it was…” I pause in my narration, searching for the right words. “It was one of the first really awful things that had ever happened to me. I guess you could say I became disillusioned with life. A lot of really bad things happened three years ago.” I bite down on my lip nervously. I’m not used to talking about this, and it’s difficult to appear calm and emotionless. I just want this moment to be behind me forever. Maybe if I can reflect in an unaffected way, I can finally move forward with my life and be brave again. I look toward the window once more, and lift my hand to touch the cool glass.

We remain sitting in silence for a little while, before someone finally speaks.

“That
sucks
,” Owen says unhappily.

“Yeah,” I agree with a small nod. “It did suck. I dropped out of school after that, because I couldn’t bring myself to go back. I’d had amazing grades, too. I didn’t tell my dad or my sister all the details, because they had enough to worry about. I just said I was mugged to explain the bruises and injuries. Actually, the only person I really confided in was Dr. Howard. I knew I could trust her with sensitive information…” I suddenly frown. It occurs to me that Leslie Howard might have sent Liam and Owen to find me out of pity for my situation. While this bothers me, even if it is true, it was still a thoughtful gesture. I try to cast this thought out of my mind. “So, that’s my story,” I tell the guys, trying to brush it off. “After that happened, I tried to act like things were normal, but I just couldn’t be around people anymore. So I moved out of the city and changed my name. And here we are!”