Chapter Four #2
“He’s being modest. He’s better looking than any of the guys I’ve seen you with.
Let’s see…he has hazel eyes. At first, I thought his eyes were brown, but they have a touch of green to them.
He has dark blond hair that’s…got this messy thing going on, like where it looks good even though it looks like he doesn’t do anything with it.
Almost…fluffy. Like if I let my hair do that, I’d look like an idiot.
He also has this charming smile that I’m pretty sure has gotten him just about everything he’s ever wanted in life. Happier now?”
“Slightly,” he says reluctantly. “This is getting old, fast.”
“It looks like you’re doing good. He has some good tricks to help you.”
I didn’t know dismissing his question about my appearance had been bothering him so much.
I prefer him thinking of me as plain, not at all like James described me.
Men only ever see my outward appearance, they don’t give a shit as long as I’m attractive.
No one ever seems to look beyond my face.
Or maybe there’s nothing beyond it worth looking for.
I wouldn’t blame them if that’s everyone’s reasoning for never getting close to me.
When I hear them coming, I quickly rush away from the door and head back into the kitchen where I tear the fridge door open and hunt for something that will make me look like I’ve been busy.
I grab the package of mushrooms and toss them onto the counter.
Quickly, I unwrap them and wash them so that by the time James and Lane walk in I’ve already started cutting them.
“Lane, you’re getting pretty good at navigating this place,” James says with a smile.
“Self-taught,” Lane says with an evil smirk.
“Well, if that’s the thanks I’m going to get, I’m going to start moving things around and laughing when you fall,” I say.
“See what I said? He’s evil.”
James laughs. “I don’t know, I think someone has to be to put up with you.”
I laugh harder at the look on Lane’s face than anything. “He told you.”
I set the dishes out and listen to the men talk as I finish up supper. I set it all on the table and everyone takes a seat.
“Smells good,” James says.
“Don’t lie to him,” Lane whispers as if I won’t hear him.
I slop the food onto his plate and shove it at him. “I hope you choke.”
“The smell alone is enough to make me do so,” he says with a grin as he reaches for the spot I always put his fork. I debate moving it before he can get ahold of it, but I decide that would require too much effort on my part.
James takes a bite of the food and chews as Lane and I focus on him, waiting eagerly for any reaction.
“I so wish I could see right now. James, how are you enjoying it?” Lane asks.
“This isn’t bad at all…it’s pretty good,” he says. “You actually had me kind of worried.”
“It’s spaghetti, how can you screw up spaghetti?” I ask as I sit down.
“Says the man that ruined oatmeal.”
I give him that one.
***
“Guess where we are going?” I ask as I grab onto Lane’s recliner and shake it as hard as I can. He reaches out and flails his arm around as he tries to hit me away from him, but he can’t reach me, so I laugh maniacally as I keep shaking his recliner.
“Hell, because I’m going to beat you,” he says as I keep just out of his reach.
“ Wrong ! The MALL!”
“Fuck no.”
“Yes!” I say as I let go of his chair. “Come on, get up.”
“Why do I have to go with you?”
“Because you want to! ”
“Why do you like me so much?”
“I don’t know!” I realize. “I think it’s your muscles. I can’t look away from them. I want to take you with me and parade you around, so everyone can be jealous of what I get to look at all day.”
He laughs. “What do you like more about me? My personality or my muscles?” he asks.
I stare at him for a moment. “Please…please don’t make me do this.”
“I’m going to stop exercising and see how far your friendship goes.”
“Please don’t,” I say, and he laughs. “Now get up. Come on. Yip yip!”
“Fine,” he says as he gets up. He heads toward the door without even waiting for me, so I grab his long cane and rush after him.
He refuses to use it around the house, but I could see everything becoming a hassle once in the mall.
I follow him out to the car as he gets inside.
I open my door, toss the folded-up cane in the back, and sit down.
“You ready?” I ask eagerly.
“You act like we’re going to Disney World,” he says.
“We might be. You won’t know the difference,” I say.
“I think I’ll know the difference between the mall and Disney.”
“Really? Kids screaming, creepers everywhere, people in animal suits dragging you off into quiet rooms. They sound the same to me,” I say.
“I’m not sure what kind of mall you’ve been going to, but maybe you need to start shopping elsewhere.”
I laugh as I start the car. “Shut up, you’re blind, you don’t know anything,” I say.
“Yes, mental capacity degrades steadily as one loses eyesight,” he retorts sarcastically.
“I knew it!”
“Just drive and make this day end,” he says as he buckles his seatbelt.
“Want to play a driving game?” I ask.
“What game?” he asks suspiciously.
“What about I-spy?” I ask.
“I spy with my little eye a cruel asshole who thinks he’s funny.”
“Me?” I guess.
“Congrats,” he says.
I laugh as I pull out onto the road and start driving. “Do you really dislike me, Lane?”
“Very much so,” he says.
“That kind of hurts my feelings,” I say.
“Does it? And asking a blind man if he wants to play I-spy isn’t mean?” he asks.
I think about it for a moment. “When you put it that way…it is horribly mean.” When I look over at him, I notice he’s grinning but trying to hide it by looking out the window.
“I mean, of all the people in the world, how did they end up hiring you? Do you even have experience with this kind of stuff?”
“No, not at all,” I say as I merge onto the highway. This time of day the traffic is just starting to get heavy, but it’s not as bad as it will be in a few hours. “They just said they’d pay me like a lot, and I told them I’d take half, so they just hired me.”
“You are pretty cheap.”
“Yeah, I like to think so,” I say.
“What are we getting at the mall?”
“Handcuffs, whips, and ball-gags,” I say.
“Why didn’t you say so sooner?”
I start laughing as Lane chuckles.
The parking lot is already nearly full when I pull in, so I have to drive up and down a few rows before giving in and parking way out back.
“Are we here?” he asks. “I swear to god, if we’re at a stop sign again and you tell me we are here like when we went to the pharmacy, I will beat you within an inch of your life.”
I grin as I shut the car off. “Not a joke this time,” I say as I get out and grab his cane.
A car pulls in next to us, so I wait while she parks.
Then, I head around my car to catch up to Lane before he rushes off in whatever direction he insists the mall is in because he despises help.
“Here’s your cane,” I say as I push it into his hand.
He clutches onto it and lifts it up. “Oh right…the ‘probing’ cane. Only probing cane I need is the one in my pants,” he says as he tosses it.
I look over at the mother that is staring at me with wide eyes as she pulls her three-year-old out of the car.
“There are children around,” I say.
“Can’t see them so they must not exist,” he says as he starts walking.
I scoop up his cane and run after him. He is following behind two girls much closer than a man should ever follow two girls he doesn’t know.
They nervously look back at him but with the sunglasses and the bulging muscles, they start to question if their end is near.
They whisper something before moving quicker, and because Lane is following the sound of them, he follows along even faster.
“Lane, you’re stalking people,” I say as I jog to catch up to him. “Take the cane.”
I stuff it into his hand and he swings it, smacking the ankle of the girl directly in front of him. She yelps and looks back at him in fear.
“Told you that you were too close,” I say before turning to her. “I’m really sorry about that, he just got the cane and doesn’t really understand how to use it yet.”
Their expressions soften when they see the cane. “That’s okay, I’m fine,” she says nicely.
“I don’t want this thing,” Lane says as he collapses it. “Where’s the trash?”
“Lane, you are the most stubborn man I’ve ever met!” I say as I take the cane before he can chuck it.
“Good,” he says as the girl he’d been stalking holds the door open for him.
Lane, hearing the door, holds his arm out until he feels it and touches his way in through it.
I follow behind him while holding the cane in both hands like a club.
It’d just be like clubbing a baby seal. He wouldn’t see it coming until it was too late.
I sigh but follow him inside where he’s stopped.
There are people milling all around us, the noise growing louder as Lane slowly turns his head.
“Lane, just use the cane,” I say as I shove it into his hand for the third time.
“I’m getting a seeing-eye horse,” he decides. “Like one of those miniature horses with the boots on their feet.”
“You’ll look real badass then,” I say.
He nods. “Thank you.”
“Get a dog. Those seeing-eye dogs are awesome. I’d have one just because they’re awesome.”
“If you got one you’d need like a Chihuahua or the thing would look massive next to you.”
“That’s fine. If it’s a dog, I’ll take it.”
I grab his wrist and pull him into a store as he swings his cane back and forth, smacking my ankles with each pass. By the fifth hit, I begin to realize that he was right, we should trash the thing.
As I leaf through the clearance rack, he wanders around hitting everything with his cane as people give him a wide berth. I think he’s getting enjoyment out of it in some messed-up way.
“Lane, I think you’re supposed to tap, not swing it like a broadsword you’re aiming at someone’s ankles.”
He cocks his head at me like what I said was super confusing. “I don’t think so.”
“Lane, get over here,” I say as I pick up a shirt. I hold it up to me, but I’m not sure I like it for me. So, I pick up a larger size that would fit Lane and press it against him. “I think this would look sexy on you.”
He reaches out and touches the fabric. “What is it?”
“Two dogs screwing.”
“Funny.”
“It’s a dark blue button-up with gray stripes,” I say. “I’m getting it for you, with your credit card of course.”
I grab his arm and pull him around a shelf and pick up another shirt.
“Hmm…I like this one. I think this one would look better on me,” I decide.
He reaches out, so I put it in his path. I watch as he runs his fingers down the fabric, trying to “see” it in the only way he can. I can’t imagine how awful it would be to not even see the color of this shirt.
“Will it be easy to rip off you?” he asks, and all sympathy I held for him is gone.
I laugh and shake my head. “I suppose.”
“Then you can get it.”
“Great,” I say. “I thank you for your permission.”
He hits me with his cane. “Oops, sorry.”
“I’m sure,” I say as I walk up to the cashier with my bruised ankles and toss the clothing onto the counter.
“Good afternoon,” the woman behind the counter says with a smile.
“Hi,” I say.
“Did you find everything alright?” she asks.
“Yep, everything’s good.”
She picks up the blue shirt. “Ooh, I love this shirt. The color will look gorgeous on you,” she says with a smile.
“Thanks,” I say.
I pay for the shirts and grab my bag. As I turn I grab Lane’s arm and pull him after me.
“What was that?” he asks.
“What?”
“That girl. What do you think you’re doing?”
“Are you jealous she was flirting with me?” I ask. “Are you’re jealous that you have too rancid an attitude to flirt with someone?”
“No, I just couldn’t imagine someone would flirt with you. Did she have a tip jar out front or something?” he asks as we step out of the store.
I notice a guy in tan pass by me, his eyes briefly catching mine. “That’s weird,” I mutter as I look behind me, but the guy isn’t looking at me any longer. He’s walking away from me, looking at his phone.
“What?” Lane asks.
I turn my attention back to where I’m walking. “I swear, I’ve seen that guy before.”
“Like you know him?”
“No…I feel like he’s been following me. I think I saw him at the grocery store earlier in the week or something…I don’t know.”
“You think someone is following you?” he asks as he turns his head like he wants to look back at who I am talking about.
“I’m just being paranoid,” I say.
“I’m sure it’s not the same guy. Why would someone actually want you?”
I laugh. “That’s not what you were saying last night.”
“Sometimes, I suffer from a lapse of judgment.”