Touched by Love (Love in Bloom: The Remingtons) by Melissa Foster
He tried to picture Janie there with him. Surely she’d enjoy the clean, less stressful area compared to the hustle and bustle of New York City. They could experience a completely different type of lifestyle than in the city, hiking, taking walks in the woods, maybe even fishing. He’d have to remember to ask Janie if she’d ever gone fishing.
They could get a place with a view of the mountains and a nice patio where she could write instead of within the four walls of her tiny apartment.
“We’re only eight miles from downtown Denver, and there’s public transportation available,” his tour guide, Anthony, a third-year medical student, explained.
Janie could work in Denver. It was a big city, with plenty of booming businesses. How hard could it be to find a job there?
“Is paratransit available in town and on campus?” As he asked the question, he remembered how difficult it had been for Janie to find a job. She’d given up her dream of being a journalist because people were too shortsighted to see how talented she was. The sighted were too shortsighted. His gut clenched and fisted tighter with the thought of her going through another painful job search.
“Yes, there are options for various paratransit companies. The admissions office can provide you with that information.”
Boyd was getting way ahead of himself. Even if there were transportation options, would Janie want to move away from her job? From Kiki? From the life she’d created there, in the community where shop owners looked out for her? Was it fair to ask her to consider it after dating for such a short time? Would it be fair after a month? Six months? A year? Would it ever be fair to ask her to move away from the life she’d built?
Moving presented all sorts of logistical complications for sighted people, including figuring out which areas were safe and which weren’t. As Anthony talked about the campus, professors, and community outreach, Boyd realized that he assessed safety in the first ten seconds of arriving in a new location. Hell, he’d done it when he’d taken a ride through town last night, visually inspecting the cleanliness of the sidewalks and roads, taking in the businesses, looking for vagrants and trying to discern sketchy parts of town. He’d assessed Anthony in three seconds flat when they’d met. How would Janie do that? She obviously knew how to assess her surroundings, but had she been able to mentally map the city only because Kiki had helped her to learn what areas were safe and which ones weren’t? He’d be happy to help her, but how long had it taken her to find her comfort zone? To figure out which people she met in her daily travels—at the café, the flower shop, even the newspaper stand—were safe to be around? Boyd had lived in the city for years and he still didn’t have those close-knit community-based relationships.
By the time Boyd sat down for his interview, he realized that not only was he getting ahead of himself, but he didn’t have enough knowledge to assess the viability of any location for Janie—and it wasn’t his place to even consider doing so.
The dean of admissions shook his hand and introduced himself. “Tell me, Boyd, why do you want to be part of our program?”
Boyd recited the answers he’d been memorizing for weeks, each the perfect blend of his desire to be a doctor, the school’s reputation, and his personal strengths and goals. A few weeks ago he’d given a slightly modified answer to the dean of admissions in Washington. He’d been outwardly confident and determined to make his mark and establish himself worthy of a coveted spot within the prestigious institution.
Today, while he felt the same confidence in his skill set and worthiness, his motivation wasn’t as pressing as it had been. The only thing he was certain of was that even though he and Janie had talked on the phone last night for more than an hour and she’d be in his arms tomorrow, being this far apart sucked. He missed her. Desperately.
As Boyd drove back toward the hotel, his motivation became crystal clear.
He never wanted to be separated from Janie again.
**
JANIE WAS FINISHING up the last of the edits on the ARKENS handbook when Clay called and asked her to join him in the conference room.
“Good luck in there,” Tara said as she passed Janie in the hallway.
Janie had turned in her latest newsletter article that morning, and Tara hadn’t said anything about the title. Surely Clay wouldn’t call her into a closed-door meeting for something like that, would he? The management team wasn’t scheduled to meet this week, either, and she couldn’t imagine what else he might want. With butterflies swarming in her stomach, she knocked on the door and stepped into the conference room.
“You wanted to see me, Clay?”
“Janie, come in, please.”
She listened carefully for sounds of others who might be in the room, but they appeared to be alone.
“How’s the ARKENS handbook coming along?” he asked.
“Fine. I should be done by the end of the day. I just want to go over a few things again to make sure I didn’t miss anything.”
“You’re always very meticulous. We appreciate that.” Clay sighed, in that unemotional way that made him difficult to read.
“Thank you.” Very meticulous had to be a good sign. She breathed a little easier.
“As you know, we’ll be discussing your promotion in the next management meeting. I expect that will go very well, as you’re a dedicated, hard-working employee. Your skill set speaks for itself.”
“Thank you,” she said again, feeling a little more confident.
“You’re welcome. You probably haven’t heard about this yet, and I ask that what I say will be kept confidential.”
“Of course.”
“We’re working on expanding TEC over the next few months, and what I wanted to talk to you about was what that could mean for you. I know you’re interested in writing, but if the expansion comes through, as we expect it will, then we’ll need to hire more senior editors as well. Those editors will need to be brought up to date on our practices and procedures, and I was thinking of pitching the idea to our team of you heading up a once-a-month training seminar for new editors. If, of course, you’d be interested in doing so.”
“A training seminar? Clay, thank you for your vote of confidence, but that’s not a role in which I’ve ever imagined myself.” Training? What would that be like? What if she agreed and hated it? What if she agreed and wasn’t able to pull it off?
“Janie, when I hired you, you made it very clear that your blindness would never hold you back, and you asked me to let you prove yourself.” For the first time since she’d worked there, she heard emotion—excitement—in Clay’s voice. “You’ve proven yourself, and I think you have tremendous potential. You’re one of our star editors, you get along with everyone, and your writing is not only clear and concise, but you have a way of connecting with your readers no matter what the topic, which is critical to what we do.”
“Thank you. Your praise means a lot to me.” She was practically bubbling over with excitement, knowing he thought so highly of her.
“You missed a lively discussion about the Oxford comma in the lunchroom the other day, which stemmed from your article. Who knew people had such strong opinions on the topic. Even if your latest newsletters have been a little more risqué than we’re used to, they have been discussion starters.”
She hoped her cheeks weren’t turning pink as a wave of embarrassment washed over her. “I’m sorry about that. I’ve been doing a bit of creative writing lately, and I guess it carried over.”
“Don’t be. I assume you’re just trying to spread your wings, show that you have abilities beyond the norm. The article was stellar, and I think the title actually got people reading, which was brilliant.”
Brilliant? That was much better than inappropriate. “Thank you.”
“If you’re not opposed to the idea of training, I’d like to go over a general outline of what I had in mind.”
Janie listened as Clay explained his ideas. She was so thrilled with his praise, and his faith in her that she silently
Chapter Twenty-One
BOYD STOOD OUTSIDE Janie’s apartment door Tuesday evening with a backpack over his shoulder, a bouquet of white tulips in his arms, and a swarm of bees wreaking havoc in his stomach. He shouldn’t be nervous to see Janie after they’d spent almost every night for nearly two weeks together, but he felt like a kid picking up his prom date. She’d told him all about her new opportunity at work, and it made what he had to discuss with her even more important. When she opened the door, wearing the smile he’d envisioned every minute they were apart, his heart nearly leapt from his chest.
“Hi.” He wrapped his arms around her, breathing her in and exhaling the invisible bees. She was finally in his arms again. “Two days seemed like a lifetime. I never want to miss you that much again.”
“Then stop talking and kiss me already.”
Their mouths came together like dance partners, slowly, sensually, in perfect sync. He drank in her sweetness, the feel of her hands sliding around his waist, bringing their bodies even closer.
He drew back, his gaze rolling over her beautiful face. “I missed you so much, honey.” His lips came coaxingly down on hers again, and he felt her smile as they kissed.
“I feel that.” She pushed her hips against his arousal.
He laughed softly. “I can’t get anything past you, can I?”
“Why would you ever want to?”
“Hey, lovers!” Kiki called from the living room. “Get in here before you catch the hallway on fire.” She rose from the couch as they came inside. “Aw, you brought me tulips? You’re such a sweetie pie.”
“You brought tulips?” Janie felt for his hands and he handed her the bouquet.
“Hey, Kiki,” Boyd said. “How’s it going?”
“Great, except I’ve got every word that you recorded in the digital frame memorized.” Kiki winked.
“My girl liked her gift?” he asked as he nuzzled against Janie’s neck.
“I loved it, and I love the flowers. Thank you.” She inhaled deeply and then held them for him to do the same. “What do you smell?”
“Flowers,” he said.
“Fail.” Kiki carried a vase of water from the kitchen.
“Smell them again.” Janie held the flowers beneath his nose. “Do you smell anything specific?”
He inhaled again. “They smell like fresh flowers.”
“I think they smell like honey and light. It’s one of my favorite scents.” Janie let Kiki take the flowers. “Thanks, Kiki. Will you please put them on my desk?”
“Yup, and I’ll get the blindfold.”
“Blindfold?” He held Janie again. “Are we doing more research for your book? If so, please tell me Kiki isn’t joining us, because I’m not good at sharing.”
“Thank goodness for small favors.” She went up on her toes and kissed him.
“No research. You’ve done all this stuff wanting to experience life the way I do, and I thought I’d show you my world in a different way.”
“Honey, I want to experience all of your world.” He ran his fingers through her hair, the dark roots now as blond as the rest. “Your hair looks really pretty. I guess Kiki got her hands on it.”
“She did. Someday I’ll show you pictures of me with my natural color hair.”
“You could be bald and you’d still be the sexiest woman around.”
She kissed him again. “I’ve missed your cheesy lines.”
“But they never sound cheesy coming from Boyd, which is weird. Do you have a brother, by chance?” Kiki handed Janie a blindfold. “Don’t get it sticky.” She laughed and grabbed her book from the couch.
“I do have a brother, but he’s in Virginia.” Boyd shrugged his backpack from his shoulder, thinking about Chet, his slightly surly brother.
“Bummer,” Kiki complained. “Well, I’m taking off now that the photo narrator is here.”
“See you, Kiki,” Janie said as Kiki headed out the door.
“Honey, when you asked me to stay over, I forgot to tell you that I have to be at the firehouse tomorrow at seven for my shift. Would you rather I stayed at my place so I don’t wake you too early?”
“Not a chance.” She tugged him by his collar toward the balcony. “I want my big, strong fireman with me. I’ve already gone too long sleeping without you.”
She pulled open the balcony door. Headlights split the darkness below as she led him outside. Sounds of cars and people tangled together, livening the warm evening air.
“Sit next to me.” Janie pulled him down beside her on the cold concrete balcony.
“Do you want me to grab chairs or a blanket for you to sit on?”
“Nope. I just want you with me. Blindfolded.”
“You sure you don’t want to move this to the bedroom?” He slid the blindfold over his eyes.
“Maybe later.”
Her words sent lightning to his core.
“But for now…” Her fingers grazed the blindfold. “Is it weird that I get a little rush of control, or power, knowing you’re now shrouded in darkness?”
“Is it weird that hearing that turns me on?”
**
“NO, BECAUSE IT turns me on to say it.” Janie had missed him terribly. When they’d talked last night, she’d told him about where she’d grown up, and she’d tried to describe what it was like to grow up by the water and how her view of her hometown had changed as her vision worsened. She wanted to help him understand what it had been like for her to lose sight of everything she knew and loved piece by piece.
“Baby, what is this dangerous game you’re playing?” He slid his hand up her thigh, burning a handprint through her jeans.
“It’s called experiencing the evening Janie style. Kiki and I do this sometimes. I thought it might be fun.”
“Everything with you is fun, but I have to admit, it’s a little unsettling not being able to see where the noises are coming from.”
“Right? That takes some getting used to. My vision didn’t change all at once, as I’ve mentioned. It was gradual. I used to panic when I’d suddenly realize that I was straining to see things I used to see clearly, or that I could no longer see a streetlight when it was right in front of me.”
“That would be scary for anyone.”
“I know. There was this moment in seventh-grade choir practice when I realized I could no longer see my teacher silhouetted at the front of the class. I only told Kiki. No one else. But I was petrified. I remember another time when I woke up from a nap and my world was darker. I call those moments ‘hiccups,’ because they jolt me into awareness. It’s kind of the same thing with the blindfold.”
Boyd put his arm around Janie and kissed her. “I wish I could have been there with you. Not that I could have done much, but I wish I could have been there so you wouldn’t have been so scared.”
She knew if he had been, he would have reassured her. Just like he had so many times since she’d fallen.
“I didn’t mean to go over my visual history, but when we’re together, I want to share all of myself with you. And, well, this is all part of me.”
“Janie, I want that, too.”
“I know you do. I just wanted you to understand that even though I had years to get used to losing my vision, I experienced that same sensation sometimes of feeling ungrounded because I suddenly couldn’t see the source of a noise.”
She felt him searching for her hand.
“You’ll get used to finding my hand, too.” She held his hand, enjoying the strength and comfort and how perfectly they fit together. “And figuring out where body parts should be.”
“I don’t think I’ll have trouble with your body parts, honey.”
“Yeah, probably not,” she said with a smile. “I think when I lose my vision completely, it might be a relief. Because now I keep wondering when it’s going to happen.”
“So eventually you
“And if I look out of my peripheral vision and get up real close like a freak,” she reminded him.
“Baby, you’re not a freak. Please don’t ever say that again. It really bothers me when you say things like that.”
“I’m sorry. I was kidding. Sort of. It is kind of freaky to do what I have to do to make out even the slightest shadow.”
“When you said you could see me at the park, it was like I’d died and gone to heaven. Not that I needed you to see me, or was hoping for it, or anything like that. It was a total surprise. Like a gift I never expected. And you were so excited, it made the moment even more special.”
“I’m not wishing that away, but I accept that one day that’ll be gone, too.”
“Then we’ll take advantage of it now, while you’re able.”
He not only understood her on too many levels to count, but he wanted to experience everything with her. Not just deal with her loss of sight as it happened, but make every moment count, and that made her heart so full she felt speechless. It was an easy silence between them, one that spoke of their deep connection.
Janie rested her head on Boyd’s shoulder, and once she’d soaked in the things he’d said, she found her voice again. “How do you like the darkness?”
“It forces me to use my other senses. Without seeing the source of the sounds, I’m separating them, cataloging them in my mind without realizing it. Car horns, a guy yelling, the sounds of your breathing.”
She loved the way he weaved her into his thoughts.
“I have a confession to make,” he said.
“A naughty confession? Should I take notes?”
“You really do have romance on the brain.”
“I blame you. Okay, you may confess your sins.”
“Only if it’s a sin to have been attracted to you since the first time I saw you.”