Drake

“Drake, darling, are you home?”

My mother’s voice floats up the stairs of my two-story house. It’s seven o’clock in the morning. What is she doing here at this hour? And why did she let herself in? It’s not as if she were interrupting my sleep. I’ve been up for hours, eaten breakfast, run five miles, and showered but she knows I prefer a call before a visit.

“Getting out of the shower, Mother. What’s wrong?”

The click clack of her heels on the hardwood echoes off the walls as she climbs the stairs. I wrap a towel around my waist and wait.

“You haven’t been returning my calls, that’s what’s wrong.”

She’s right. I haven’t. I love my mother to the moon and back but she’s perceptive. I don’t want anyone noticing the recent decline in my vision before I get promoted.

I should have known she would pop in and check on me.

“I’m sorry, I was going to call you today.”

“You were not, you’re an awful liar, Dee.” Her voice is right outside the door of my en-suite bathroom. Mother has never been much for boundaries, that’s probably one of the reasons why I keep people at arm's length.

“I’m naked, Mother. Could you give me a few minutes to dress?”

“I gave birth to you, Drake Marshal Valentine, I’ve already seen it all. I only wanted to make myself known. I don’t need anything.”

She pushes the door open letting the steam escape into the bedroom and leans in to kiss my cheek leaving a perfect red lipstick mark. She is impeccably dressed in a beige pantsuit with a crisp white blouse and heels that not many sixty-five-year-old women would dare to sport. Now I feel guilty and I have a strong suspicion that was her intention.

I look at her through the mirror out of the corner of my eye. “Thank you, Mother. Again, I apologize. Let me take you to lunch soon to make up for being a neglectful son.”

“Oh hush, my sweet boy. You don’t have to feed me out of guilt. But I would appreciate it if you would call me back when I call four times in one week.” She pats my cheek and gives me a stern look. I smile and try not to cringe when she turns my face to look at her straight on.

“You never look me in the eye anymore. I love these gorgeous blue eyes. Why hasn’t a beautiful woman fallen in love with them too?”

Here we go again. I’m thirty-seven and she wants grandchildren more than life itself.

“You know how I feel about that,” I say turning back to the mirror so I can see her in my peripheral vision.

“I do not. I will never understand why you want to dedicate your whole life to a rigid institution and a bunch of sweaty men instead of a lovely woman and a house full of grandchildren for your poor old mother.”

I lift one side of my mouth in a smirk. “You’re hardly a poor old mother. You look more like my sister than my mother and you know it. You don’t really want a bunch of little ones calling you grandma now, do you?”

She frowns and her bottom lip comes out in a pout that I’ve been watching her use to get her way my entire life.

“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing, Drake.” She stands up straighter and brushes her perfect blonde hair behind her shoulder and smoothes her hands down the front of her suit. “I do look good for my age but I would love nothing more than to be called grandma one day… soon.”

“You’d be the hottest grandma to ever walk the earth.” I kiss her and she lets out a harrumph before turning on her spiky heel to leave.

“Love you,” I call after her.

“Love you, Son,” she calls back.

I dread the day she learns the real reason I refuse to commit to a woman and have children. It may devastate her as much as it does me. The pride she has for me is profound. She may complain that I’ve dedicated my life to the Marine Corps but she never misses a chance to brag about me to anyone who will listen.

It’s Saturday, Jayden and I usually hang out but he is meeting his sister at the airport so I’m on my own. I haven’t driven since I woke up with a significant change in my vision a week ago.

At first, I thought it was a hangover, but I hadn’t had that much to drink. Soon, I realized the larger spot of fogginess in the center of my vision wasn’t going away.

That’s when I began to panic. I’ve known this was coming for years but the sudden reality of it shook my foundation to the core. After a week, I am still learning how to maneuver through my days with less of my central vision. The thought of living alone in total darkness one day is the first thing to terrify me ever in my life.

I have several errands to run. I could probably make it around town driving just fine. I know every street and corner like the back of my hand but I couldn’t live with myself if I accidently hurt someone.

I could call an Uber, but I know every person in this town and I don’t know how I would explain that. The only person who has ever known about my condition is Jayden and he’s busy saving his baby sister from herself.

It’s a beautiful North Carolina summer day. It wouldn’t be strange for me to walk into town and do my errands on foot.

When I’m dressed, I make my way down the block and hang a right toward the town square. I need groceries and a few things from the hardware store but first I need a haircut.

It’s early and the humidity hasn’t taken hold yet. A week ago, I may not have noticed the warm sun on the back of my neck or that the thick fragrance of Mirabilis hanging in the air, but I do now. It’s true that when one sense is removed the others compensate but it doesn’t make this shit any easier.

I step out of the barbershop twenty minutes later with my hair cut neat and tight Marine Corps style. The sun is bright and for a moment I can’t see.

The sensation makes my heart pound in my chest. I have nightmares about losing my sight and even the split second of loss ignites anxiety in my brain. I step back under the canopy over the door and blink several times until my eyes have adjusted to the light and I calm my breathing.

The temperature must have gone up ten degrees while I was inside, or maybe I’m sweating from the adrenaline rush I just had but I’m too hot. I need to get to the grocery store and back into the air conditioning.

People are milling around the town square doing weekend errands or window-shopping. I catch sight of a man two blocks away holding the door of our local diner open for a woman. It’s Jayden, I can tell by the way he holds himself like a Marine, tall and proud, but the woman, she’s a mystery.

She’s the same height as Jayden but with heels, she towers above him. Her hip-hugging skirt and wraparound blouse is more upscale than anything the good people of Jewel Falls have hanging in their closets. And her hair is piled high on the top of her head in an elegant bun.

That fucker made a breakfast date. He must have dumped his sister off at home so he could rush over here and take his latest conquest to breakfast. He told me he was going to be tied up all day getting Tiana settled. Yeah right, he’s going to be tied up all right.

I look both ways before crossing the street and walk down the wide sidewalk toward the diner. I plan on giving him some shit for being such an asshole. What kind of friend ditches his sister and his best friend for a hot piece of ass? Well, I guess me for one.

Along the way, several people wave and greet me by name. Living in Jewel Falls reminds me of Mayberry, only the residents are nosier here. Everyone knows your business no matter how good you are at covering it up. Except for my sight, that is the secret only one person knows and I intend to keep it that way for as long as possible.

“Oh, Drake, just the man I was looking for.” The familiar voice of Miss Cavanaugh, Jewel Falls most attractive first-grade teacher/closet freak, stops me in my tracks.

“Good Morning, Miss Cavanaugh. What can I do for you?”

“Lexi, please Drake. I think we can be on a first name basis after all this time.” She sidles up next to me and links her arm through mine. Lexi and I ended up in bed together a month ago, after Jayden and I took our poker night of drinking too far. It turned out that she had a strong penchant for kink like me. I assumed everyone in Jewel Falls was pure vanilla but in the case of Miss Lexi Cavanaugh, I was wrong.

As most women do, she took it to mean more than it did and I’ve been trying to backpedal ever since.

“Alright, Lexi, then. What can I do for you?”

She squeezes my arm and begins to walk tugging me along with her.

“I need a big strong Marine to look at my car and tell me what’s wrong with it.”

I look at her sideways and frown. “I think what you’re looking for is a mechanic, not a Marine.”

She swats at my arm. “I know what I’m looking for.” She looks up at me batting her eyelashes like a true Southern belle and lays her head on my shoulder for emphasis.

I don’t know shit about cars and I shouldn’t lead her on but she’s sweet and sexy and kinky all wrapped up in one pretty package that I don’t want to say no to.

“Lead the way.”

She all but squeals and pulls me down Main Street toward her little green bungalow where I’m sure I won’t find a single thing wrong with her car.