“And then what?”
Braxton shook his head and laughed. “There’s no more. Damn, I thought I was a stickler for schedules.”
“Maybe being on break has spoiled you and now your life is just one big open slot. Maybe you don’t know how to fill your time so you’re choosing to do nothing.”
He reached over, slid his hand over hers, and squeezed. “Or maybe I’m choosing to do exactly what I want, which is more important than anything. Maybe I want to sit on my porch with a beautiful woman and watch the rain bounce off my rail.”
Cora pulled her knee up onto the seat between them as she turned to face him. Her hand still in his, she offered a smile. “Tell me what you see.”
She’d had the same request at the pond. He wanted to be able to show her the world through his eyes, a
world she’d never see again. And, he feared, a world no one cared to show her.
He watched as the sidewalk in front of his house started to develop puddles. The slightest dips in the concrete soon became mini wading pools for birds. He loved a good, hard rain. Could sit on this porch swing for hours and just listen to it fall down, almost as if washing away the worries and cares of the world. These cooler evenings and nights were the most relaxing times. Winter in Georgia was actually rather nice. He never wanted to live where they had piles of snow and slick ice. He’d take the Southern temps any day.
“The sky is darker than usual right now. Almost as if there’s just one, big gray cloud hovering over Haven.”
He glanced around, trying to figure out exactly what to share with her. Everything around him he took for granted. Rain, flowers, grass, trees, cars. Every single thing he saw day in and day out was just mundane, but to her it was everything.
“My sister planted some shrubbery along the edge of my porch,” he told her. “She claimed my bachelor pad needed some curb appeal and I let her go at it. I have no clue what the hell she called it, but it’s nice.”
He stared at the white blossoms on the bushes, wondering if Chelsea would be proud of him for keeping it alive for another season.
“Drops of rain are settling into the petals,” he added. “Almost like teardrops, I guess. They land, then they slide away.”
Cora’s head dropped to his shoulder. “Keep talking,” she murmured. “Your words are pretty.”
Braxton swallowed. He’d never been told his words were pretty. He’d never taken the time to think about pretty words before, but with Cora he found he wanted to. Whatever made her happy, made her smile, he wanted to be part of.
“The drops are hitting the railing around the porch. They splatter and every now and then occasionally hit my arm.”
“Close your eyes,” she told him.
Tipping his head down toward hers, he asked, “Close them?”
“Please.”
Wondering what she had in mind, he closed his eyes. “All right. They’re closed.”
“Now tell me what you see.”
Shocked at her request, Braxton shook his head. “I can’t see.”
Her hand squeezed in his. “You can. Just think about it.”
Concentrating, Braxton tried to pull in anything from his other senses. The difficult exercise he was struggling with was her everyday life and he totally understood why she wanted him to do this. She was giving him a glimpse into her world. A glimpse he’d been wanting and the fact she was exposing herself in such a unique way humbled him. He would do this for her, and for himself.
He inhaled and instantly caught something. “Sweet. I smell something sweet.”
“It’s the flowers. What else?”
“My skin feels damp, not just from where the droplets are hitting, but everywhere. We have more humidity than normal.”
When she remained quiet, he reached further into his senses. How the hell did she do this? He just wanted to open his eyes and see. A simple task he took for granted. Sight was such a powerful sense, one she’d been robbed of. His admiration for her kept rising. But she was so much more than a blind woman. He admired her for her determination to reclaim her life, for her drive to keep going when giving up would be so easy. She captured the spirit of every single thing he didn’t know he was looking for.
“The rain is picking up,” he went on. “It’s harder now than it was, but still steady.”
A drop of moisture landed on his arm and it wasn’t from the rain. Braxton shifted in the swing, wrapping his arm around Cora as she nestled deeper into his side.