Fully Sighted

He turned to her; but didn't hear her stirring. He didn't know if she was sleeping but didn't want to disturb so he stopped playing. He moved her bags to her room, and turned down the sheets. He quietly stepped to the couch and carefully ran his hand down the back of the couch reaching her shoulder gently so she wouldn't have any reason to feel awkward.

She felt his touch. She didn't know if she had fallen asleep and was just awakening or if she had just been lost in the beautiful music that reached into her and around her. She smiled at Tim and wished he could see her smile which she thought had been lost. His face was close and she wanted to raise her hand to touch his face.

He asked if she would like to go to bed, and she supposed it was the best idea. He pulled a set of keys out of his pocket and gave them to her for her to come and go as she pleased. Tim encouraged her to try the keys herself and lock the front door for the night so she would know they worked. He allowed her to use the bathroom first and didn't leave his room until her bedroom door was closed and locked for the night. She felt safe but didn't fully trust this stranger yet and placed the keys under her pillow. She wondered where Philip was and what the future held, but she fell asleep feeling very protected.

Tim felt relief that she was in the bedroom, asleep, and not out in the cold. Now he could relax. He remembered the words they'd spoken to each other before he was aware that she was in any trouble. Then things changed and he remembered the words spoken through tears and how the voice had changed over the phone. Her voice changed again and he remembered the few words spoken with Dina, and how the voice had relaxed in his presence, in his house. He always noticed a woman's voice as the first thing. She had the pitch, rhythm and phrasing that made him almost forget he was listening to words but it sounded more like music. He had enjoyed her giggle like the percussion to his music. Her speech was also educated, intelligent and perceptive. With some women he noticed the timbre of the voice; with others he enjoyed hearing clear intelligent speech. Victoria had them both together and Tim was a goner.

The exclusion from society that had been forced on him in his elementary and high schools years by attending a school for the blind was now what he chose for himself.

He had tried the real world and enjoyed it a great deal for many years, but the burdens, the rejections, the whispered voices, the imaginations in his head of who was staring at him, the women who couldn't see him as whole had burdened him so he slowly withdrew from his shared city apartment, to a small house in a suburban town, and now to this remote house. He had chosen it for its remoteness but also the bus route that went past and took him to the blind school.

Here it was him, his to and fro familiar steps, a few safe individuals in his small town of Zoriah, and his teaching a few classes in music.

He felt his Braille watch realizing it was too early to go to bed, but wanting to remember how he felt playing for her tonight. He preferred the piano, but the keyboard was more multi-functional. He plugged the headphones into his keyboard which was attached to his user-friendly recording computer. He recorded as he played and refined the melody that he had started creating earlier. It was a song of the tempo and cadence of her voice and how he felt sitting with her in the diner, and how he felt now knowing he was keeping her safe.

********************

Before even opening his eyes the next morning, he remembered Victoria and her tears. As he headed towards the front door to check the depth of snow he hoped it had increased in the night so he might request she stay with him longer. It was deep, and surely would be unsafe for travel. He checked the weather report on his computer that read the text to him in a monotone voice so unlike Victoria's, which confirmed the freezing temperatures and snow. He couldn't help but smile. He hadn't heard any movement and quietly went about his routine. He made a big breakfast, and she still wasn't awake so he ate by himself.

He called the blind school where he taught classes to confirm that his classes were cancelled, and decided to work on his other job taking commissions to write songs. He was working on a complicated song now for the Fireproof movie, and it was taking longer than usual.

He sat at the keyboard again, but wanted to listen for Victoria so he slid the ear piece away from his left ear. He listened back over what he had already written for them, and was mostly pleased with how it sounded. He placed his fingers on the cold keys, and waited for the inspiration that sometimes came quickly, sometimes slowly. His thoughts turned easily to Victoria and the song he was writing for her, the song that sounded like her voice. She must have needed a good night's sleep desperately, to be sleeping in so late in an unfamiliar bed. He hit record as his fingers moved easily thinking of her.

As he brought the stanza to an end he realized that he liked what he had written but it was all wrong for his paid job. He saved it in the folder with the song from last night and returned again to his work. He forced himself to replay the song he needed to complete for his work, not just listening this time and the song moved on and he captured the next stage as he immersed himself in his work.

He turned towards the slow creak of a door opening, and smiled. The habits that he'd learned in school to follow cues that made sighted people more comfortable came easily. He had trouble being patient waiting to hear her voice again.

"Victoria, Good Morning."

"Good Morning Tim," She said as her head cleared, and she remembered what had brought her here. She looked at her watch and was flabbergasted that she had slept past ten.

Tim took the head phones off. "Victoria, I'll cook you breakfast while you're in the bathroom."

Victoria watched as he moved across the room, the ease and speed hid any sign that Tim's blindness was a disability for him. "Oh, I don't want to be any trouble, I really should be getting on my way."

"You are no trouble, I needed a break anyway. We'll talk about the weather when you come out."

He heard her move to the bathroom, then back to her room while he cooked, and waited. She moved slowly and he wished he could see her face and know what she looked like and what she was thinking. He enjoyed a mid morning snack while she breakfasted. The weather was of course the first issue that arose.

Tim explained the weather forecast, his cancelled work, and after Victoria protested her hesitancy to invade any longer, Tim persuaded her to postpone for one day as long as she wouldn't be a bother. Tim wondered why she worried so much about being a 'bother'. She seemed to care a lot what others thought. She insisted on doing dishes, so Tim allowed her to wash and he put things away.

They talked easily about their lives and with a hot tea in their hands they settled into the living room to chat some more. Victoria complimented him again on his piano playing, and learned that he wrote music as a job as well as for himself.

"So, what you played last night was your own work?" Victoria questioned.

"Some of it. The first stuff was probably songs you recognized but then I shared some of my music, and also was just creating as I went too."

"Wow Tim." He impressed her. "Who influenced you to become a musician?"

He spoke about his father's musical talents, and how he ensured that he took music classes every year at his school for the blind. His music teachers had picked him out for special tutoring to go beyond the other students when they saw his interest. His father had encouraged and loved him, but hadn't always known how to be the most helpful since his father was sighted.

They talked and talked. It was mostly questions and responses about their families. It seemed a safe topic to start and they talked easily. Tim tried to ask more about her recent past wanting to get a clue to her current distress but she only spoke of sunny incidents.

Tim talked about his students, classes, and challenges at school. Victoria spoke of enjoying her job in sales, and her anecdotes of clients made him laugh. Time passed quickly and Victoria felt herself hoping the bad weather would remain so she could stay her safe with Tim for longer.

"Well, the lunch hour has come and gone, but even with your late lunch you must be hungry again. Can I get you something? Tim offered.

Victoria herself feeling guilty again for invading on someone else's space. She forced herself to ask, "Are you sure the weather hasn't cleared up? I feel guilty staying here even longer."

"The weather hasn't cleared up and I'm sure the roads aren't clear either."

"I could try."

"I won't hear of you risking your life on snowy roads and insist. Besides I'm enjoying the day with you much more than I would on my own."

"If you're sure I'm not putting you out."

"I'm more than sure."

****************

They shared soup for a late afternoon lunch and Tim found some hot chocolate. Victoria felt relaxed. Was it Tim? His home? The snow? Was it just that she was far from Philip? Or was it more about Tim?

They easily settled again into conversing on many topics. Personal topics started surfacing but both Tim and Victoria treaded carefully. Tim felt himself caught up in her voice rhythm that missed bits and pieces of what she was saying. He forced himself to focus on his words as he didn't want to miss anything.

"You've got some fancy equipment around the room, is that for creating your music?" Victoria questioned.

"Yes, most of it is for me to mix, record and enjoy music. Some of it is for emailing and internet and I have a magnifier."

"I'd love to see how it works." Victoria hinted.

Tim stood to move towards the keyboard and computer, "I'm happy to show you."

"Really? That would be such a treat."

Tim sat down, "Each year the technology improves and being on staff at the school keeps me in tune to all the advances. The best part is learning about the new programs before buying them for myself."

The bench Tim sat on was like a piano bench and was made for one person to move around comfortably but could also fit two people so he invited her to sit down. He thought he should suggest a chair, but his instinct was to have her as close as she felt comfortable with.

She sat down naturally on the bench and they both remained apart awkwardly at first as he explained the different gadgets and how he recorded music. He asked if she wanted to try which she was excited about and they started touching naturally as their forearms, fingertips, hips and shoulders rubbed accidentally.

Victoria played chopsticks on the keyboard and recorded it as he taught her. As she went to save it and name her original composition she saw the names of the other songs.

"Why do you have a song called Victoria?" She asked because she thought it a coincidence not because she thought it referred to her.

"Hmmm, I forgot that you'd be seeing that. My secret is out. Ummm. Well. Last night when I was playing for you I got a tune for a new song, and after you went to bed I worked with it some more and recorded it so I could remember it."

"Oh okay. That makes sense. But why is it named Victoria?" She was probing deeper now.

Tim struggled again with his words. He didn't know how honest he should be and if it would endear him to Victoria or push him away to hear the truth, "Ummm, well, it's like this, ahhhhh, you inspired the song, so it should be named after you."

Victoria was also now a little nervous. Was this strange or just very sweet? Philip had characteristics that seemed sweet but turned out strange, on which side of the line did Tim fall?

Victoria giggled nervously as she looked again at Tim taking in his whole being, "Can I hear it?"

There was an awkward pause but Tim tried hard not to hum and haw this time. He could feel Victoria's breath on his neck and knew she was close and facing him. "I could play the recording or I could just play it for you from what I remember. It's very rough, and incomplete."

"I'd be honored if you'd play it for me. I think I fell asleep last night when you played for me so I missed the premiere performance."

Tim moved his hands across the keys finding his hand position. Victoria's gaze must have moved to his hands for he didn't feel her breath. He was less distracted this way. He knew it would sound better on the piano but didn't want to move away from Victoria.

Victoria was silent as Tim's hands moved easily over the keys. She couldn't believe someone wrote a song for her. Well, not for her, but inspired by her. It was a beautiful song. Did he 'see' her as beautiful? She felt she should probably move away to give his hands room to move but wanted to move closer to him. She slid her hand back towards the back of the bench on the side where Tim sat and as her fingers gripped the seat her hand rested against his jeans. Another point of physical contact drawing them closer.

Tim played her song, the part he had created last night, the part from this morning and let his fingers wander over the keys as he thought over their day, their talking, their laughing, her voice and now her touch. It made song writing easy.

He brought the song to an awkward end for he hadn't finished it yet. He felt Victoria move closer and her hand on the seat slide farther down. Her head must have fallen forward because he couldn't feel her breath but could feel what must be her forehead resting on his shoulder.

Her voice was choked with unshed tears, "What does that song have to do with me?"

Women were confusing. He wished again to see what she looked like and what her face showed of her feelings. He didn't want to say the wrong thing, and everything felt wrong right now. "Victoria, that song is a reflection of how I hear your voice, how I think of you. Beautiful, soft, wounded...strong, fun, interesting, rhythmic..."

The tears that she was holding back now flowed freely as Victoria heard those words. Philips had never said words like that to her. He had told her she was sexy and that they looked good together.

She realized she was crying on a stranger's shoulder and so stood up and tried to apologize. She felt like an emotionally unstable woman invading on this kind stranger, and was embarrassed. She backed away from him, not sure where to turn.

He shifted his body so he was facing her. His voice was gentle as he spoke, "I overheard a little of your phone conversation and I know you're here because of some trouble. Can you tell me about it? I'm a good listener"

She was still crying and didn't answer. She looked around thinking to maybe drive away to save this embarrassment or hide in her room. She watched him, his face was troubled; he almost looked like he would cry.

"The guy Philip you were talking about on the phone, maybe he's a boyfriend, and you could call him for help?" His feeling of helplessness grew.

"NO!" Her voice came out as an angry yell.

She didn't know what to say, and how to say it and who to trust. Her 'boyfriend picker' had been way off when she had picked Philip, and her confidence in herself was shaken. She moved toward her room, but then a few steps back to Tim, then a few steps back. She needed to clear her head; she grabbed her coat and walked to the front door and opened it, and stepped out, closing it behind her. The freezing temperatures brought her abruptly out of her confusion. Tim wasn't like Philip. There were many good men in the world. Tim had the opportunity to make a move on her, and hadn't done that. Philip noticed her sexuality, and complimented her by noticing her looks and curves. He drew attention to her more when they were around other people he wanted to impress. Especially people at work, he loved when she stopped by his work. She wondered what the people at work thought about him. How could they be fooled by his shallowness and ineptitude?

Tim felt so lost. He could easily find his way to the door but is that what she wanted? Is that what she needed? He hadn't felt that she was suicidal or emotionally disordered, just in pain and lonely. He decided to wait until she came back in on her own. She would be cold when she came in, and she probably wouldn't accept a hug, but she'd probably accept a hot tea, and appreciate the warm temperature. He moved to turn up the heater, and started the water boiling.

Here she was standing outside in the cold, running from Tim, like she'd run from Philip. But she'd run from Philip for a reason, in fact she should have run sooner. Tim, Yes, Tim was the opposite of Philip, he had cared for her though there was no one around. He cared for her even though they weren't having sex. He said he wanted to listen even though she was acting irrationally. He didn't even know what she looked like, and he seemed to like her. She inspired a song in an amazing man who was a kind, sweet, handsome, amazing musician. She belonged inside with him, not out here in the cold.

She turned the door handle and peeked in. He was standing in the kitchen pouring from the kettle. "I know I embarrassed myself. Can I come back in?"

"Of course! I was worried about you out there. There's no reason to be embarrassed." He put down the kettle and fidgeted with the steeping tea bag. "I've got some hot tea for you...If you want."

She moved towards him, "I want something else first."

"Sure. What can I get for you?

She arrived at his side, "How about a hug?" Their arms naturally encircled each other. A hug was just what the doctor ordered and she started crying again, but this time not as hard or deep.

She felt good in his arms. He no longer felt helpless; she had turned to him, not just for her physical needs but now for a listening ear and it made him feel needed

As her crying eased Tim reached for the drawer with the napkins and slipped one in her hand. They pulled away from each other and walked to the couch with the tea. It was a big unlady-like blow into the napkin, and Tim sat patiently. Her thoughts returned quickly to Philip as she compared how compassionate Tim was. Philip would have been upset that she had cried so long and would have scolded her for leaking on him.

He wanted to test Tim and leaned into him and said, "Tim, I'm sorry but the napkin didn't come soon enough and my eyes and nose ran all over you." She dabbed at his shirt pretending to wipe the tears.

"I don't mind, it will dry quickly enough. I care much more for your heart than my silly shirt."

She giggled because she didn't know what else to do, as she wiped her eyes. He passed the test and wasn't anything like Philip. She watched his caring face and leaned in to peck him in the cheek. She giggled again, "Thank you, I'll take that tea now."

She took the tea from his hand and moved to the couch. She grabbed some more tissue on the way. Tim didn't know what to do next, and wondered if she'd talk now. He slowly followed but moved to find an opposite seat.

"You can sit here next to me." Victoria said softly as she patted the couch seat next to her.

He sat down and turned towards her with his left arm up on the top of the couch. She finally answered his earlier question, "Philip is the man I'm running away from and never want to see again. Yes, he was a boyfriend but he's not anymore."

"Sounds horrible."

"It was looking back, but most of the time it didn't seem that bad. I've honestly never had a guy like that before, and just thought he was super in-love with me, but really he seemed...Hmmm." She had never put these things into words before and she paused and memories whirred through her consciousness. "...maybe he felt...not that's not quite it...he felt inadequate or something and it was always a race to keep up. Oh, I don't know what I'm saying. I don't know how to put words with this. I think I'm just starting to realize all the red flags and pieces of the puzzle that I didn't see."