Chapter 3
Three
Henry
“Did you burn the toast again?” Travis asks, his voice coming from behind me, along with the sound of closing doors.
“It sure smells like it. Did you mess with the setting?”
“Not that I can remember.” His footsteps approach me, his elbow brushing mine as he opens the window. “There, that’s already so much better.”
“Sorry.” My lips downturn and he presses his to the center of my forehead.
“It’s okay, babe. At least it’s not smoking like last time.”
My stomach rumbles with laughter. “I guess that’s me moving in the right direction.”
“Sure is. I’m about to carpool with Andy to the gym. Do you need anything before I go? Aside from having me put the toaster on the correct setting?”
“Nope. You two have been very adamant with the whole workout routine.”
“Yeah. Need to shed all that Halloween candy and Thanksgiving food weight.” His hand plops onto his stomach making a popping sound.
“I’m still sad I missed out on your mom’s famous turkey sandwiches.”
“You’ll be able to eat plenty at Christmas.”
“Are we not going to the cabin?”
“I thought we agreed we’d go up there the week before.” He sounds far away now.
“I don’t remember that, but New Year’s may work better.”
“Yeah. We got invited to my aunt Lucy’s house on Christmas Eve. I thought it could be just you and me on Christmas Day.”
I shove my hand back into the bag of bread and pull out two more pieces, hoping I didn’t waste too much this week.
Only one of us is bringing in money right now and I can’t touch my trust fund for another three weeks, on my twenty-fifth birthday.
I have some money in savings, but Travis insisted on taking care of everything for now.
“That sounds nice, just the two of us lying around in bed and only getting up to eat.”
“It sounds perfect.” The front door snicks open. “I’ll be back in two hours. You should join us next time.”
“Yeah, maybe.”
“Maybe on a day when it’s less busy. Anyway, I’ll pick up dinner. There’s a container of fruit in the fridge in case that toast doesn’t hold you over until I get back.”
“Okay. Get a good workout in.”
“I always do. Bye, baby.”
“Bye.”
My bread is soft when I touch it. Damn. I forgot to push the damn lever down.
I press where I think it is, my fingers falling straight down to the counter instead.
Cursing under my breath, I try again, hitting the corner this time, and luckily it’s enough for the thing to go down.
When I hear the metal clinking sound, I take out the toast, burning the tips of my fingers. Shit.
I turn on the sink, finding the knob quicker than expected, and run cool water over my throbbing skin.
One good thing about things like sinks and counters is that they don’t move.
Travis is always setting things in different places, and I keep telling him not to.
Not that he listens, swearing he forgets and he’s not used to all these changes.
How does he think I feel? I plate my toast and lift one hand in front of me as I slowly drag my feet forward to the table.
As soon as my hand meets the back of a chair, I lower myself, moving my hand to the table, and as I’m eating, my phone rings.
The phone that I left in the living room on the couch. Or was it the end table?
I’m making life harder for myself too, it would seem.
I look around, thinking about how it might be nice to sit outside for a while.
It’s getting cold out, but I love cold weather.
I love having a reason to wear large sweaters and long, cozy socks.
Smiling, I finish my food, find my phone, and navigate myself to the entryway closet.
Once the door is open, I sigh and feel around the small space.
The jackets my hands touch all feel the same.
The hoodies do too, but does it really matter if I accidentally grab Travis’s? It’s not a bad idea to know where mine are, though, so I know what side to lean toward next. I hit a button on my phone and a robotic voice comes on, asking me what I need help with.
“Open Be My Eyes app.”
“Opening Be My Eyes app.” There’s a beep and then she says, “Anything else I can help you with?”
Travis set up the account for me already, so the only thing I have to do now is say, “Find me someone to be my eyes.”
“Putting in a request for you.”
I tap my foot, blowing out a breath, and minutes later my ears are met with a deep voice. “Hi there. This is Raf.” He gives a short pause. “I’ll be your eyes for the day. What can I help you see?”
“Hi. I’m Henry.”
“So I see. How are you today, Henry?”
“Very good. I’m new to this, so sorry if I’m being awkward or get a little lost with what I’m supposed to do.”
“Everyone’s new at some point. How about you turn your camera on for me so I can help you better.”
“Oh . . . right.” I let out an awkward chuckle. I turn my face down, the bright light from the screen the only thing leading my eyes.
“I’ve requested video chat. You can tap the center of the screen to accept.”
“Oh, okay. Thanks.” I hit the center of the glowing square.
“Try again. I know you’ll get it this time.”
“You’re so sure?” I say in a joking tone.
“Got this gut feeling.”
He’s right. The third time isn’t always the charm. Sometimes it’s the second.
“There you are.”
My eyes widen and suddenly I’m self-conscious of what I look like.
“Don’t worry. You look great.”
“I’m sure you tell everyone that so you can add more reassurance and get that five-star rating in the end.”
“Maybe I do and maybe I don’t. I guess you’ll never really know.”
I laugh. “I guess I should show you my closet now.”
“You could . . . or you can keep the camera where it is, and I can keep telling you how great you look.”
I roll my eyes, flipping the camera around.
“What are we looking for?”
“My black hoodie. I can sometimes make things out by color, but well, leave it to me to buy mostly black clothing before going blind.” I snicker. “My boyfriend also prefers darker colors. The navy, dark grays, and blacks kind of all blend together for me.”
“Okay. So, it has a hood and what else? I see three black hoodies.”
“It’s got a small white Adidas logo in the center.”
“How about you show me the first one and work your way down until we find it?”
“Sounds good.”
Reaching my hand out, I let him direct me, and stop when he says, “Right there.”
I lift the first item my hand lands on and move to the next when he confirms it’s not the one. I’m about to push on the second one until he says, “Wait. I think that’s it. Lift it all the way out.”
I slowly work my hands to the top of the metal hanger and lift it away from everything else, keeping my phone up in front of it as best I can.
“White Adidas logo in the top center and the strings look like they get chewed on a lot.”
I nod, not even sure I’m in view anymore, and close the closet door. “What can I say . . . I’m a nervous chewer. Everything but my nails, since that’s apparently where I draw the line.”
“Sounds like I should be scared to see your pencils.”
“Probably. I haven’t written anything by hand in a long time, though, except scribbling crooked signatures with a pen, so they’ve all been given a break.”
“There’s a bright side to everything, they say.”
“Who’s they?” I arch a brow, sliding the phone more to the left.
“Who the hell knows.”
I bark out a laugh. “Hmm . . . well, let me know when you figure it out.”
“I’ll be sure to do that,” he says with a soft chuckle. “Can I help you with anything else?”
“Um . . .” My face dips to where my feet are, and I knock them together, unable to sort out the designs on my colorful socks.
It’s like a rainbow throwing up in front of me.
“I’m not sure where my boyfriend set my shoes.
He took them off when I fell asleep on the couch wearing them.
I did it so I could wake up in the morning and water the plants without bothering him. ”
“Did you not water those plants? Or did you just go out there in those cute socks?”
My face flushes. “I . . . he’d watered them for me already by the time I finally got up. Said things get done faster that way and he had too much to do today.”
“Hmm. Well, you have me. You can call me again if you need to, and we can make him realize that you’re perfectly capable of doing everything you used to do, so there’s no need for him to worry about how slowly you need to do something the first time or two.”
Why does the “you have me,” part stick out to me the most? I don’t know this guy, and he’s doing nothing more than the job he’s volunteering to do. “Thanks.”
“Where do you think he would have put your shoes? Same closet perhaps?”
“Yeah. On the shoe rack. He’s all about being tidy and organized. I was never the best at it, so now that we live together—”
“Nothing is in the same place it was before the life-changing event.”
“Exactly. It was a bad car accident.”
“Yeah, it’s all on your profile. I try to read them before accepting the job so I know more about who I’m helping.”
Travis must have added all my details. “Makes sense. Okay, so those shoes, they’re navy blue sneakers.”
“Do you have several pairs of those too?”
“Unfortunately, yes.” I make a face. “You may think I’m weird for this . . . but . . .” My words shake. “I have outside and inside shoes. Shoes for walking and exercising in.”
“That’s not weird. I do the same. I won’t dare wear my outside clothes to bed.”
“Really?” My voice goes higher. “Me either. Even though these days my outside clothes resemble my indoor ones. I mismatch my pajamas on purpose, but I can’t say the same for the others.”
His laughter is gentle on my ears and a kind of sound I could see myself never getting tired of. “Yeah, so if you’re weird, then I’m weird. But I might just be weird anyway, and for other reasons.”
“Like?” Not sure why I’m so curious to hear him talk about himself, but I am. Maybe because he makes me feel like nothing has changed. Like I’m the same person I was before.