Love Is Blind

Getting There

  Five days after my confession session with Lacey, I stood in front of my closet, phone shoved between my shoulder and ear, "Well it matters to me. Sure, neither one of us can see it, but your mom can."

  "Jacob! She doesn't care what you wear. It's not like she's judging you based on whether you wear slacks or jeans! She just wants to talk to you about your work and the business that I'm getting myself into it!"

  Letting out a groan, I leaned up against the doorframe of my closet, rubbing a hand over my forehead in distress, "But, Lacey, she can see what I look like. If I look terrible she might think you're getting into a crappy work field or something," I fought, just wanting some sort of help.

  She let out a sigh, almost sounding annoyed, but it came out too amused and just short of laughter, "Okay. Okay. Fine. What do you have?"

  I straightened up and I began to run my fingers over the tags sewn into the back of my shirts. Reading out the colors that were labeled on them, I thought about how much easier this would be if I knew what these colors actually looked like.

  Halfway through, Lacey stopped me by practically screaming into the mouthpiece of her phone, "WAIT!"

  Dropping my hand, I muttered, "What are you talking through? A megaphone?" Clearing my throat, I spoke louder, this way she could actually understand me, "What is it?"

  Obviously she heard my megaphone comment because she laughed and confirmed that jokingly before she answered, "Okay. You know I can't see any of these, but my friend Amy knows what everything looks like and what goes together. Hence, why she's beside me consulting on your wardrobe."

  Waiting, I mentally grumbled about how embarrassing it was to have not one, but two girls helping me pick out an outfit.

  "So, she says that the blue button up you passed," I slipped my hand back up and found the tag, running the pad of my thumb over the letters to confirm I had chosen the right one, "Would go great with the pair of plain black jeans you've got."

  Slight confusion swirled into my words, "How does she even know what pants I have? I never read any labels out."

  "Shush. It doesn't matter. Just go put those on. She swears you'll look smoking hot."

  I chuckled quietly as I pulled the shirt from the hanger and tossed it to the right, satisfied with the plop of it landing on top of my sheets, "So I'm sexy?"

  "Not my words, Anderson. All hers."

  "Still!" As I spoke, I made my way to my dresser and opened the bottom right drawer, thumbing my way across the tags until I found what I was searching for, "She thinks I'm hot. Maybe I could score a date with her? You know, since your mom isn't available."

  Laughing quietly, static crackled through the phone as Lacey shook her head, "Sorry, Jake. She's taken as well. Also, about three months pregnant."

  "Congratulations to them, but God, I can't get anything, can I?" I laughed, and felt my heart swell when she called me the affectionate nickname. That had only started a few days before, the day after our talk to be precise, but I loved it.

  "Nope! Guess you'll have to keep looking!" She concurred and then I could hear more shuffling, "Now, I've got to go, okay? I'll see you in a couple hours, Jake! Byeeeee!" She sing-songed.

"See you soon, Lacey," I promised and heard the click of the phone as she hung up before I set it down on top of my dresser. Leaning against it for a moment, I took a deep breath. It was going to be an interesting night.

  Gathering up my clothes, I headed towards the bathroom. Setting them on the sink, I stripped out of the suit I had worn to work and leaned over the edge of the tub, turning the faucet on.

  After a quick shower, I wrapped a towel around my waist and got to work on shaving, by feel alone. One of the biggest issues of being blind and being a guy, is the fact that I had to shave my face and hope I didn't look like a complete idiot since I couldn't see where the hair actually is.

  Finishing, I towel dried my hair, hoping it wasn't as insane as it feels to me, and I dab on a little cologne. It's always good to smell nice. Once I was sure that I was presentable enough, I tugged my clothes on.

  Straightening out my shirt and pulling my socks on, I grabbed my cane from the end of my bed and extended it. Making my way to my front room, I found my shoes easily and slipped them on. Once they were comfortable, I opened the door and began to swipe my cane across the ground in front of me.

  Stepping down, off of my front porch, I walked to the edge of the curb and waited for a few minutes. A loud honk startled me, but thankfully I had been expecting it and I didn't jump quite as badly as I thought I was going to.

  The sound of the door opening was my cue to climb in, and once I sat, I followed my cane up on my lap,  "So, where are we going to meet your family?" I ask, settling into the vinyl seat.

  "Restaurant downtown. Uh, I think it's called 'The Rose'?" Lacey responded from beside me.

  I chuckled and she seemed a little baffled, "What?" She questioned, almost sounding defensive of her choice in dining areas.

  Shaking my head, I chuckled again, "Oh nothing."

  "No! Come on. Tell me. Did I make a bad choice in dinner places or something? It's important if I did! Then I need to change venues!"

  "No. Actually, you didn't. 'The Rose' is the cafe I took you to on our lunch date that first week."

  "Firstly, it wasn't a date," she corrected, "And is it really? It seemed like a small town diner or something.."

  "Nope. Technically, I guess it is, but they're really good. And they've got bigger dining areas than the booth we were sat in. Usually, Ginger just tends to give me a small area in the back so that I don't have to deal with so many people milling around and things. I tend to like my privacy if I'm out alone."

  Her hair pattered against the seat as she nodded, "Well, I know the food is amazing then. Is the larger dining area really that busy?"

  "Not really. Especially not on Saturday nights, because so many people are at either fancier restaurants, clubs, or bars. During the week, though, people tend to stay in there. From what I've heard, it's got a really nice view."

  Again, Lacey nodded, "That's good. For a second there, you had me worried  that I had chosen a bad place to go and would arrive and have to explain to my mom that we'd have to go elsewhere."

  Quietly laughing, I shook my head, "Nope. You're safe. You've got really good taste in restaurants and in jobs, apparently."

  Lacey laughed along with me, "Why thank you, Mr. Anderson."

  "Anytime, Ms. Webber," I replied, smiling. Our car, chauffeured by a local taxi driver, slowed as we reached our destination.

  Five minutes and we arrived at The Rose, and our driver climbed out and opened both of our doors for us. "Thank you," I told him, speaking in the direction I was hoping he was in, and I held out a few bills towards him.

  "No, no, thank you," He replied and took it from me, crinkling it into what I assumed was his pocket as he shut the doors behind each of us.

  Both of our canes swept the concrete as we walked up, tapping against the curb as we started towards the door. Just as I held it open for Lacey and she stepped in, she leaned closer and whispered, "You smell delightful, Jacob."

  Sliding past me and into the restaurant, Lacey headed up to the podium, her cane clacking loudly and I stood, stunned for a moment. A large smile formed on my face, and then I followed her inside.