Chapter 6

Written by: Suraya Dewing

Fran’s jumbled thoughts were driving her crazy, making her toss and turn in bed. She wanted to believe she had done the right thing when she sent Nelson away, but a terrible nagging voice kept telling her she was probably wrong.

 Just as she finally started to drift away into the embracing world of trouble free thoughts she jolted awake and sat up in bed.

Frustration fired every cell in her body and it was impossible to sleep. Confused thoughts kept circling around her brain like cars on a race-track. She knew a lack of melatonin, the hormone that regulated sighted people’s sleep patterns, was partly to blame for her insomnia, but she also knew that regret was also responsible. Maybe Nelson did want to make up for his lack of judgement?

Finally, unable to stand the exasperating thoughts any longer, she got out of bed. She slipped her chilled feet into her slippers, took hold of the rail at the top of the stairs, and began the steady trek to the kitchen.

The cold air bit her skin and she wished she had grabbed her favourite long, thick cardigan. Just as she turned to go back up the stairs to get it there was a knock on the door. She went into the hallway, using the long run rug as her guide.

Unaware of the time she opened the door and smiled a warm greeting, imagining it was one of her friends dropping by.

“Hello Fran,” Nelson cautiously ventured.

Immediately, Fran's smile froze and she started to close the door.

Nelson stopped it shutting with his foot.

“No, Fran, hear me out,” he entreated.

She held up a hand to stop him. “We have nothing to say to each other.” She tried to close the door again. “In fact, I release you from any promises we made to each other.” She waved her hand imperiously as if dismissing the past they had shared and, along with it, their dreams.

Desperation flooded through Nelson and, pushing the door wider, he stepped into the room.

“I must talk to you.”

She helplessly held up her hands. “Well you have the jump on me there.”

Sarcasm filled the void between them.

He took her hand and tried to lead her. “Let’s go to the kitchen. I’ll make a cup of tea."

She snatched her hand away. “I can make a cup of tea. I don’t need you to do it for me,” she snapped.

Nelson penitently steepled his hands. “I’m truly sorry, I didn’t mean to imply…”

“Imply what Nelson? That I’m blind and useless?”

Anger surged through him. “No, I didn’t mean that at all.”

He took a seat beside the little kitchen table and rested his crossed arms on it.  Fran briskly grabbed the kettle and filled it with water. Fascinated, he watched her hold a finger over the lip so she could feel when it was full. His heart began to thud.