Blind Fools

Blind Fools: Chapter 8

Chapter 8

 Ophelia left the kitchen and dropped face first on her couch, burying her head under the square throw pillows.  Lucky seemed to wiggle smugly inside her pocket.  Right now, she was going to need more than a bottle of wine and friendly advice to make herself feel good about today’s events.

 “Phe-phe?” Tiki said the nickname cautiously as she knelt down beside her friend.  “Hey?  What’s going on?”

 Without moving, she said into the cushions, “I have a date.  Tomorrow.”

 “A date?” Tiki asked, and then, “You hussy!  That’s why you were going to dump Steve.  Not because he didn’t gratify you!  If not for that, you would have kept him, wouldn’t you?”

 Ophelia shook her head.  “No, I was going to break up with him…eventually.”

 “Eventually?  Are you serious?  How long did you think you could continue wasting batteries for that man?  I’d have thrown his butt out on the street after the first time he left me wanting.”

 Ophelia pushed up on her elbows and brushed the hair out of her face.  “That’s the difference between you and me.  You can have any guy you want, but I’m limited on my choices.  Guys go nuts for the artsy, moonbeam thing you’ve got going.  I’m just a bookworm, addicted to a half-dollar and bottles of cheap wine.  Hell, I can’t even walk into my closet without seeing how boring I am.  Plain blouses, gray skirts, even my underwear is monotonous.  The only thing interesting about me are my shoes.”

 “You do have great taste in heels,” Tiki said kindly.  She patted my backside.  “But let’s get past that.  Tell me about this man.  He must have seen something interesting in you.”

 Ophelia snorted.  “That’s funny.  He saw something in me.”

 Tiki frowned.  “What’s funny about that?  You’re pretty and you’re intelligent, and you have your own business.  That’s three good points in your favor.  What guy wouldn’t want that?”

 “That’s not what I meant,” Ophelia said sadly.

 “Then explain it to me.”

 She studied Tiki’s face, hoping against hope that her best friend in the whole world, the woman that never would ever, ever betray her or deem to hurt her feelings, could possibly understand her confusion.  “He’s blind.”

 Tiki blinked.  “Come again?”

 Ophelia nodded.  “He’s blind.  So, you see, he couldn’t have seen anything interesting in me.  Have I really gone so far beyond appealing that only handicapped men would ever want to date me?  I really don’t know if I should feel embarrassed or insulted.”

 Her friend rocked back on her heels and stared at her.  Blank expression and all.  “You did say this guy is blind, right?  I’m not hearing things?”

 “Oh, no.  You heard me correctly.  I have a date with a blind man that walked out into the middle of 2nd Street and twirled like a ballerina until I agreed to have dinner with him tomorrow night.”

 Tiki continued to stare.  Ophelia got a funny feeling in the pit of her stomach.  Embarrassment?  Or insult?  Which was worse?  For a fleeting moment, she felt sympathy for her mother, the woman that endured the gossip of her husband’s extracurricular activities without batting an eye.  But had Ann Masters ever been embarrassed to find phone numbers written in a curly hand in his pants pockets?  Did she get insulted when he called to cancel dinner – instead, choosing to eat with one of his many clients? 

 That morning with Ian, she felt nothing but confusion around him – and a bit turned-on.  Ian appeared to be such a temporary kind of man, much like her father always portrayed, but her parents had been married for thirty-five years, a considerably long time for a transient relationship.  There had never been talk of divorce, that she knew of, but at every family gathering, Ophelia waited with abated breath for the bomb to land.  She felt that way around Ian, too.  Never with Steve, but that was what she wanted, right?  Permanence.