Serene (Shattered Book 3) Read online

  Sighing, I slipped into a pair of low-heeled shoes standing at the bed where I put them before going to the shower, and headed for the dining room. Just like my own apartment, Emery’s was like a memorized map of turns, corners and doors. I could easily navigate around it. Just before leaving my room, I grabbed my sunglasses lying on a nightstand, because judging by Dr. Burke’s reaction to my presence, he didn’t know about my blindness, and for now, I preferred it to stay that way.

  His voice sounded somehow familiar. Such a beautiful music of rich tones with just enough depth and softness – it was hard to not react to it. I always loved voices that made me want to see who they belonged to.

  I entered the living room where I could hear Jesse talking about the cartoon he had been watching. He was trying to make the little Paul believe that the rabbit with an axe in his hands wasn’t evil. Would you believe that? Me – never.

  “Don’t you think it’s unfair to use his age against him?” I asked Jesse.

  “Don’t you think you are a little too old to play James Bond?” He asked in response. He rarely saw me wearing sunglasses to hide my blindness. I usually did it out of habit or to complete the outfit I was wearing.

  I laughed under my breath. “No one is too old to play James Bond.”

  Jesse didn’t say anything for a long minute. But when he spoke again, I was surprised to hear his words.

  “He’s a doctor, you know? You could ask him if he knows anything about…well…cases like yours.”

  Jesse never believed my blindness was a sentence. I wish he were right. But no matter how alluring the thought of getting my vision back was, I never let it mess with my head. Otherwise, I wouldn’t leave my bedroom for the rest of my life.

  “Let’s leave this talk for another day, okay?”

  “Okay,” he said a bit disappointed. “Do you want me to accompany you to the dining room? I know you don’t need help and blah blah blah, but since you are playing James Bond tonight, I think company wouldn’t hurt.”

  I swear, the kid could read me like an open book.

  “I’d love that,” I said.

  Jesse was too wise for his young age. Even after Emery told him about the accident and its consequences, he never once treated me like I was somehow different from anyone else. He asked me to play with him, or watch movies, as if I could actually see what was going on in them. We even cooked together. He did most of the job, but always made it look like it was me who used just a bit of his help.

  He came over to me and took me by the hand, saying to Paul, “Come with us, Bro. Trust me, you don’t want to miss the biggest show of the year.”

  I heard Paul jumping from the couch and running up to us.

  “Ready?” Jesse asked.

  I nodded shortly.

  “God, he’s just a guy! Why put so much effort to impress him?”

  “I’m not trying to impress anyone.”

  Or was I?

  “Right.”

  “I just don’t want him to feel…”

  “Sorry for you, I know. I have already heard this story before. But sunglasses? Really?”

  Nothing about my appearance gave away my blindness. At least this is what everyone kept saying. My eyes were of the same color as they used to be before the accident and I trained a lot to not make people feel uncomfortable in my presence. I would blink and lower my eyes, or look aside to make it easier for them to avoid the direct eye contact with me. Even when it hurt to know that I was different, no one could see my pain. It was my curse, but life was a blessing that I wasn’t going to give up on.

  I knew the exact moment when we entered the dining room. Silence filled the room.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, this is Mrs. James Bond,” Jesse said ceremonially. “Let me accompany you to your seat, ma’am.”

  I smiled mentally at his foxery. As smart as he was, he surely knew I was a bit nervous and needed help, that in most cases I refused to accept.

  He moved the chair for me and waited for me to sit down. “Thank you, young man,” I said, smiling at him. I could feel him still standing by the chair.

  “What’s wrong, darling?” Emery asked, turning to Jesse.

  “Can I switch seats with Kelly?”

  “No!” The girl protested. She was sitting on my right.

  Emery got the unspoken message sent by Jesse and said, “Kelly, would you like to take my seat instead?”

  The girl ‘YESed’ excited to sit at the head of the table.

  I heard Jesse letting out a relieved breath.

  Emery spoke to Dr. Burke, “Sorry Stan, with three kids, it’s hard to please all of them at once.”

  “You didn’t need to do it,” I whispered to Jesse after he took his seat.

  He ignored my words. “What would you like to drink, Mrs. Bond?”

  I heard Mike chuckle on my left.

  “Water,” I said, wondering if Dr. Burke knew that something was wrong with the whole changing seat thing and well, my weird look.

  For the first time in what felt like forever, I was dying to ‘open’ my eyes and see his face. What did he look like? Was he tall? What was the color of his eyes?

  I couldn’t get the answers to those questions, at least not until he was gone. But I could at the very least enjoy the sound of his beautiful voice again.

  “Do you like living in Washington, Dr. Burke?” I hoped my voice didn’t give away my nervousness. Don’t know why, but his invisible to my eyes presence felt somehow challenging. As if he was here to test me and I wasn’t ready to reveal the things that I preferred to stay hidden.

  “To be honest, I didn’t have time to think about it.”

  I smiled. “Too much work?”

  “Exactly.”

  “Emery told me about your clinic. Congratulations. I bet you are proud of what you have managed to achieve in your profession.”

  “I sure am. But I never thought of pride as the main praise for my work.”

  “Which means you are truly dedicated to what you do.”

  “I could say the same about you, Ivy… I mean, Mrs. Bond.”

  Jesse giggled at the way he called me.

  “I saw your pictures in the living room. They are stunning.”

  I don’t think I had ever been so proud of my works. Those were my ‘blind’ pictures. I never saw them myself.

  “I’ll have to believe your words, Dr. Burke. I never look at my pictures after I finish drawing them.”

  “Why so?”

  I thought for a moment before saying, “I don’t want to see the imperfections. It’s like writing a book, you know? No matter how many times you edit it, you always find a line that you would like to rewrite.”

  “I don’t know anything about writing books, but what I saw in the living room doesn’t need ‘editing’ or ‘rewriting’. Your pictures are perfect just the way they are.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  Stanley

  They are as perfect as their creator, I added in my mind.

  When Ivy entered the room, I couldn’t hold back my smile. The sunglasses – a small thing that hid so much mystery behind it was no doubt the last thing I expected to see. Unlike the lovely dress that showed just enough to demonstrate her femininity. I was right about the hair color after all – it was blonde. It fell over one shoulder, leaving the other one uncovered. Her ivory skin contrasted with the darkness of her dress, making her look both fragile and irresistible.

  She waltzed to her chair and sat down, right in front of me. I immediately regretted the absence of the opportunity to see her eyes. With the little choice I had, I focused on her lips instead. They were of a pale pink shade that reminded me of a rosebud with its velvet petals opening in the daylight. A surge of unexpected excitement ran through me at the thought of touching them. The top lip was thinner than the bottom one that was plush and glistened softly in the light of a lamp hanging over the table. She asked me something about my life in Washington and I needed a few seconds to replay her question
in my mind and think about the answer. I looked at her sunglasses again, wondering about the thoughts running through her head. How much did she know about me? Apart from the perfume I used.

  She smiled at my short response and in one split second, the curve of her luscious lips made the room around me compress to the size of a penny, making it harder to breathe. There were only her and the way her presence affected me.

  Something radiated from within the depths of her wrapped in a shroud of mystery image. I just couldn’t put my finger on it. It wasn’t just about the circumstances of our meeting in her bedroom. Everything about the way she acted and looked tonight felt a little surreal. As if it wasn’t the real her I talked to. Maybe that was exactly what held me so captivated by her.

  “How often do you come to visit your sister?” I asked Ivy, while Emery and Mike were in the kitchen, preparing dessert. Kelly and Paul left the table right after they ate the main meal. But Jesse stayed with us. If I didn’t know better, I would think he stayed because of Ivy. It looked like he didn’t want to leave her alone with me.

  “Not often,” she replied with a small chuckle.

  “Why so?”

  Jesse responded for her, “She used to live with us some time back. It was a desperate measure and mom wouldn’t stop following her every step. After that, she swore off staying here overnight. Tonight is the first time she decided to make an exception. You can’t even imagine how much effort it took mom to make her stay at least for one day.”

  “Which means I’m witnessing a family reunion.”

  “Sort of,” Ivy said with a soft smile.

  Jesse’s words made me want to ask a few questions about why Ivy had to live with Emery and her family, but then I thought it wasn’t polite to nose into their family issues.

  “What do you do for a living, Ivy?” I asked instead.

  She hesitated for a moment before saying, “I used to work as a graphic designer...”

  “Used to? Which means you do something else now?”

  Jesse gave her a weird look that I couldn’t interpret. As if he was afraid she would say something wrong.

  “I work with disabled kids,” Ivy said. “I teach them how to feel normal in a world of so much unfair judgment.”

  “So you are a psychologist?”

  “I don’t have a diploma or a degree. But I have knowledge that can be useful for someone else.”

  That brought even more questions to my mind, but again, I decided to keep them to myself.

  Emery and Mike returned shortly and the discussion switched to other topics. One of which was my clinic opening party.

  I looked at Ivy, who was busy talking to Jesse. I couldn’t hear what she was saying because the words were being said in a whisper, but judging by the boy’s troubled expression, he didn’t like it.

  “What plans do you have for Monday night?” I asked all of a sudden, quite surprised by my inexplicable desire to see Ivy joining the party.

  “Um… No plans, why?” She looked a little tense, as if she already knew what I was going to ask next and didn’t know how to say ‘no’ to my invitation and to not offend me with her negative response.

  “I would be happy if you joined us at the opening party.”

  It looked like my question made everyone sitting at the table tense. Emery and Mike shared a glance, while Jesse looked like he expected a bomb to explode somewhere in the room.

  Ivy swallowed and lowered her head. “Actually, I just now remembered about a meeting scheduled for Monday night… But thanks for the invitation.” She looked up at me, or at least so I thought, considering she was still wearing sunglasses and I couldn’t see anything through their blackness. Then she excused herself and was about to leave the dining room, saying she wanted to rest after a long week at work.

  I didn’t want her to leave so soon.

  “Why don’t you share a cup of tea with us? Just one cup… It shouldn’t take long.” I don’t know why I suddenly felt like I owed her an apology for asking her to join the party. It looked like my question was the very reason for her sudden desire to escape.

  She stopped at the door and turned to look at me. For the millionth time in one night, I regretted I couldn’t see her eyes.

  Emery came to my rescue.

  “I can bring you a cup to the living room, if you want,” she said to Ivy.

  “Okay. Thank you.”

  “Do you mind if I drink my tea in the living room with you? I’d like to ask a few questions about your pictures.”

  What a lame excuse… Now she probably thinks I’m a stalker or an idiot. Or both. Just great.

  To my surprise, she said, “I will gladly answer your questions, Dr. Burke.”

  I followed Ivy out of the dining room, taking on my way two cups of tea: one for her and one for myself.

  The lights in the living room were off, but she didn’t care to turn them on. She walked to one of the chairs and sat down. The light coming from the hall was enough to illuminate the biggest part of the room, so I thought I would just leave it like that.

  “Your tea,” I said, giving her the cup of steaming drink.

  She carefully took it from my hands, brought the cup to her nose and took a deep breath.

  “Mmm… I love rose tea. You?”

  I shrugged. “I’m a coffeeholic actually. I can drink it 24/7. I can survive without food, but without coffee –never.”

  “So you are utterly insane. I see… No offense, I am a coffee addict myself. Which means we are both kind of crazy.”

  I laughed. “I never looked at myself from that point of view.” I sat on a couch and watched her.

  “Have you ever heard of an insane person admitting that he’s insane? Me neither.”

  Still smiling, I said, “I guess I have failed, twice, to make a good first impression on you. First, you thought I was a crazy-about-curves plastic surgeon sneaking into a girl’s bedroom to see her naked, now you think I’m generally insane. It looks like your opinion about me is getting better with every small thing I do or say.”

  “Even if you didn’t say or do anything, I would still be able to say a lot about you.”

  “Oh, really? Is there a chance you could share some of those observancy results with me?”

  “Sure. First, you are a devotee of physical beauty. Let’s leave aside the fact that you enjoy watching half-naked woman when they walk out of the shower.”

  That made my smile grow.

  “Second,” she proceeded, “you like freedom, going outdoors, swimming and running in the mornings.”

  “How did you know that?”

  “By your cologne of course. Don’t you know that perfumes say a lot about their owners?”

  “Really? I never thought about it.” I suddenly wanted to come closer to where she was sitting and bury my nose in the curve of her neck. If I wasn’t mistaken, she used a fragrance that reminded me of fresh, clean laundry. I made a mental note to google its meaning.

  She took a sip of her tea, and continued, “Third, the way you walk – your pace is firm and confident. Which means you know how to get things done, you are logical and most likely intelligent. Especially considering how much my sister loves praising you.”

  “She loves praising me? That’s news to me. Criticize me – is what I thought she loves doing most of all.”

  “You like when people admire you. Which is not bad if there’s a good reason for it. If you believe my sister, you are a genius to the max, so it’s natural that people admire you. But as a rule, it also means that some may call you cold.”

  “Interesting... I don’t remember anyone calling me cold. Hot as hell, yes, but cold – never.”

  It was her turn to laugh. “And you are very self-assured, of course.”

  God, I was dying to see her eyes. Why was she wearing the damn sunglasses? It felt like she was playing a game where she was a pro, and I – a complete loser. Not that I minded losing a round or two for her.

  “It’s pretty dark
here, you know… If you are too scared to look me in the eye, I can turn around.” It was supposed to sound like a joke. But her smile suddenly vanished.

  She stayed quiet for a long minute, no less. “I know it’s dark here. My sister never leaves the lights on if there’s no one in the room. And neither you nor I touched the switcher when we came here. I’m okay with darkness. Does it bother you?”

  “Not at all. I just… Wanted to try my luck and see at least something in your eyes that would tell me more about you. Since you are obviously a better observer than I am. You can read me like an open book.”

  Another silent pause followed.

  “Which one of my pictures did you like most of all?” She asked, rising to her feet.

  She slowly walked to the wall decorated with frames of different sizes and shapes. I followed her and stopped next to her.

  “I like this one,” I tapped the metal frame of the picture showing the sunrise reflected in the purple ocean, with the shades of amber and liquid gold dancing in the waves.

  “It was one of my very first works,” she said. She reached out one hand and ran her fingers across the metal frame I just touched.

  It was the only picture that showed something concrete. The rest of them were abstract.

  “You love playing with colors,” I said, watching another picture that caught my attention. “Why is there so much white? You like white?”

  “I used to hate it… Until the day I fell in love with it. It symbolizes the beginning of something new. New page, new story, new life…”

  “Oh, I see.” I gave her a thoughtful look, wondering about the day she fell in love with white. Was there something that she wanted to leave in the past and start it all from the very beginning? Failed love story, maybe?

  “As far as I remember James Bond was keen on black.”

  She smiled. “Black is the opposite of white. Sometimes it’s good to be someone else. Don’t you think so?”

  I thought for a moment. “I guess… Depends on why you don’t want to be yourself.”