The Blindman's Wife Read online

  A multiple birth series continues with Azolah and Liam’s story in book two of the three part series.

  This book is for everyone who believed in me, thank you for the ongoing support.

  Table of Contents

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  Chapter 1

  © 2016 Nicole Peters.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner including internet usage without the written permission of the author.

  This book is a work of fiction. All names and characters in this book is the work of the author’s imagination and are not intended to refer to a specific person living or dead. Any resemblance to actual names, people, organizations, events, or places is entirely coincidental.

  I would like to hear from you. Email me at [email protected] visit my website at https://nicole-peters.weebly.com/

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  CHAPTER ONE

  Azolah Kurtis tapped the almost non-existent pencil eraser between her full lips as she scanned the Saturday Star. She turned to the sweet laughter of her two-year-old son Wynter, who at the moment was sitting on his grandmothers’ lap blowing bubbles. A smile touched Zola’s lips as she stored this moment of joy for days when things got rough.

  Sometimes she wished she could forget her troubles altogether and just enjoy her son; his sweet baby laughter, his smiles and his scent of pure innocence. But she knew that she was asking for far too much, she was asking for the impossible. Her son suffered from Ventricular Septal Defect (VSD), or as they put it in layman terms, he had a hole in his heart. Something his pediatrician found four months ago when he went for his annual check-up. They were referred to a cardiologist who specialized in the defect. He had hoped the hole would close on its own without surgery and had been keeping an eye on Wyn for the past few months.

  Last week they found out the hole was getting larger and was in a position that it could damage his heart valves. She had no choice but to have him booked for surgery. It was something she dreaded but had to do for her son’s sake Wynter was her life. Although the doctor assured her that her son would make it out of the OR and would live a normal life, she couldn’t help thinking he could be wrong. She had heard stories where patients went into the operating room and came out dead or more ill than when they first came to the hospital.

  It was one of the reasons why she had hoped the hole would close on its own dashing any thoughts of surgery. She had also been worried about her dwindling bank account. A few days ago, when she checked there had only been enough money for this month’s rent and food. There wasn’t enough for her to stay at home with her son until he had fully recuperated. She had a family to take care of but most importantly, she had a child who was depending on her to be there to kiss his boo boos away.

  The surgery was scheduled for a week from today. She was scared but couldn’t stand to see her son always exhausted. He should be running around and playing like every other child his age. Most of all she couldn’t stand his laboured breaths and his lack of appetite. He was very small for a child his age. Every time he went to sleep, she thought it might be the last time she would ever see her baby alive. She couldn’t live in fear as she was now. It wasn’t fair to her son and her mother.

  Seeing her mother sitting in her wheelchair after being hit by a drunk driver a year ago wasn’t encouraging either. It amazed Zola that one moment could have such an impact on another persons’ life. One minute her mother was crossing the street, the next, her life had changed forever because a spoiled teenager went for a joyride with his friends while drunk. Her mother had endured and came out with a better perspective than her daughter. Zola was bitter about the accident, but with help from her mother and her son’s love, she was slowly learning to overcome her anger. She had learned and was still learning life was never fair.

  Everything wasn’t as peachy as she would have liked it to be and that was why she was looking at the classified ads in the Saturday Star. She had to find a stable well-paying job that had all the benefits she would need to care for two dependents.

  Bills were piling up that needed to be paid ASAP. She wasn’t about to take her neighbour Carl's advice about going on welfare. That option wasn’t for her no matter what life may throw her way. A caretaker was needed for her mother and soon Wynter as well. She would find the money somehow, and she was determined to find the perfect job, one that would turn into a career and not just pay minimum wage. This family needed all the money they could get for the rainy days that lied ahead.

  She couldn’t keep her second job as a waitress either; it was hard enough for her Mum to look after Wynter without adding more time and stress with a sick child on hand. To be honest, Zola was away too much from her son already and spent too little time with her family. She needed to change that. Her mother Zora Kurtis had been Zola’s rock, her role model and best friend for the past twenty-three years. Zola had gotten pregnant in her second year of college with Wynter, by Nick Ballou her one and only relationship. He had promised to marry, love, and cherish her for the rest of their lives. That changed when she got pregnant. When she told him about their impending parenthood he had broken things off. Her mother had been there to hold her hands after his desertion.

  He had gladly signed over all of his parental rights to her when she refused to abort their baby. Nick wasn't ready for fatherhood. He was too young and had places he wanted to go; a baby would only get in the way and make things more complicated. He wasn’t letting anyone stand in the way of his dreams of becoming a professional travel guide he told her. She was in love and didn't believe what everyone else said about him. He was selfish. She wondered what her life would have been like had she known beforehand, would she have still taken a chance with him? She would like to think yes since her son was the result of their relationship. She couldn’t imagine a life where he wasn’t with her.

  She had been afraid to tell her mother about her pregnancy, but Zora had been more understanding than Zola had expected. She had been there waiting to catch her if she ever fell. She never once said I told you so, even though her mother had warned her about Nick. She was there ‘just in case’ something happened. She had been there for her grandson’s birth and was there when the doctor had broken the news about his heart defect.

  Although Zora was in a wheelchair, she was still Zola’s shoulder to cry on. Never once had she given up on her daughter, but continued to cheer her on from the sidelines in whatever Zola did. That was why taking care of her mother was so important to her. She looked back at the paper in front of her on the scarred kitchen table sighing. It was then she saw the ad for an Executive Assistant. She circled the ad and looked at the address; the interviews were held that afternoon. She may not have an appointment, but she was willing to make the trip with the hope that she would get an interview. She was desperate and willing to do almost anything at that moment even if it meant selling her soul to the devil.

  She had some experience as a temp in an office and had gone to school for business administration before dropping out a year shy of her degree. With that title, she hoped it paid well and had medical and dental benefits. God knew she could do with some help in that department. Please let me get this job she silently prayed. Let them at least give me a chance to interview for the job.

  She got up and took her empty glass to th
e sink. If she hurried, maybe she would make it. She paused for a brief second thinking maybe it would be better to call first, and then thought against the idea. She wasn’t willing to get rejected before she had a chance to prove she was right for the position. If she showed up in person, she would have a better chance to get an interview. She rushed to the room she shared with her son and changed into her one dress skirt and a clean blouse. She grabbed her bag and the keys to the old Honda they owned since she was ten.

  “I’m going out mum I won’t be more than an hour or two. Will you be okay?” she asked, folding the paper and placing it in her bag before lifting her son into her arms.

  “We’ll be okay, stop worrying or you’ll get old before you turn twenty-five,” her mother teased. “I can see wrinkles already; Botox won’t be able to help if you keep that frown up. Smile for a change sweetheart, you’re a beautiful girl and everything will work itself out.”

  “Mum, I’m serious are you su—“

  “Shoo, we’ll be okay won’t we champ?” her mother asked the little boy.

  Her son nodded wiggling to get down from his mother’s arms to sit on his nana’s lap.

  “Go on time is wasting,” her mother said looking pointedly at her daughter’s change of clothes.

  Zola nodded, and looked at her son and mother reluctant to leave them.

  “Maybe you would like to come along for the ride.”

  “We’ll be fine. I may be crippled, but I am not useless or helpless.”

  “Mum, I never…”

  Before she could finish her sentence, her mother was shaking her head.

  “I know what you meant just go.”

  She nodded and left. She knew her mother was proud and independent; the last thing she wanted to do was offend her. Sometimes Zola could be a bit over protective of the people she loved.

  ***

  Zola arrived at the Bradford’s estate to the sound of raised voices coming from inside. She was lucky to get through the front gate. If it weren’t for the car that was leaving, she doubted she would have gotten through. Before she had a chance to knock on the door, it was quickly flung open by a middle-aged man. He moved aside to allow her entry as if he had been expecting her.

  “Good day madam, you must be here for the interview. This way please Mrs. Bradford, will be with you shortly.”

  He showed her to a small office at the front of the house and told her to help herself to the coffee and muffins that were on a small trolley.

  Zola looked around the room and saw a framed photo of a very striking white man in his late thirties maybe early forties. Next to him, was standing an equally striking, beaming woman who looked to be in her late twenties, his wife perhaps? She thought to herself. Her gaze went back to the man, she couldn’t help it there was something about him that captivated her. It was as if she was mesmerized by his commanding stare. Her toes began to tingle and she frowned looking away from the photo suppressing whatever it was she was feeling back where it belonged, buried. She decided to look elsewhere and her eyes connected with another photo of him, but this time he was standing with a man who was an older version of him and a petite elderly woman. They must be his parents. They were such a nice looking family surely all that ruckus couldn’t be coming from one of them? Well, as they say you never know what goes on behind closed doors, and the rich weren’t any different from the poor when it came down to family drama.

  She hoped it wasn't the man with the angry voice looking for an assistant. Maybe his mother was the one who needed an assistant. She had a kind smile, and Zola wouldn’t mind working for her. She wondered if the senior Mrs. Bradford worked at home or had an office in downtown Toronto. Her reverie was interrupted by the same angry masculine voice that greeted her as she had gotten out of her car in the driveway. She looked back at the picture and shook her head, what had happened to such a good-looking man to make him sound so bitter and angry? It couldn’t be money because this place reeked of it. Looks and money what else could he need? She wanted to know even though she dreaded meeting him. Maybe it wasn’t even Mr. handsome it could be someone else, a brother perhaps.

  Zola hoped that she would never have to meet whoever was yelling and shivered at the thought of having to work for him. Cold fingers walked over her spine, and she slouched into the chair. He might not be there in the room, but that voice didn’t make her feel safe or comfortable.

  She might not have a choice if she got the job, but she would make it her priority not to be anywhere in sight when he was around. She couldn’t help but to get up and move closer to the door. The drama down the hallway was like a magnet for her inquisitiveness. She knew it was bad manners to listen in on a conversation when it had nothing to do with her, but her curiosity was peaked. Ears pressed to the half-closed door; Zola listened as the loud voices became clearer.

  ***

  “I’ve told you a million times Mother, I don’t need a goddamn assistant; I already have one.” Liam Bradford gritted his teeth trying not to get too upset with his mother as he thought of his next dental bill. With the rate he was going, his perfect teeth would be ground to dust.

  He loved her and knew she meant well. He was also grateful for all her help, but this was his life, and when he said something, he expected it to be carried out. He was the one in command, not his mother, and he would not stand for being lead around on a leash like a good little puppy. He sat with his back rigidly to the open door and his mother. He faced a window but was not able to see the flowers blooming brightly under the early May sun.

  His blindness was the result of a car accident a couple of months ago. Although he had come out alive with minor injuries Madeline, his fiancée and the driver of the car died. It was all his fault. Had he not argued with her about wanting a lavish wedding, she wouldn’t have gotten behind the wheel angry and lead to her driving too fast.

  She didn’t die in the car but on her way to the hospital. Maybe if he hadn’t moved her from the drivers’ seat to the passenger’s side, she would still be alive. He had lied to the police telling them he was the driver, and they were none the wiser. He wanted it to look like his fault so that she remained flawless in everyone's eyes. He didn't want anyone to blame her for what happened to him, heck he blamed himself. He had put her through enough. If ending up blind permanently was the price to pay for his transgressions, then so it shall be. He didn’t care what the doctors said either. They had told him that his blindness was most likely temporary; conversion disorder, also known as hysterical blindness. He wasn’t optimistic.

  After four months of wishing and hoping, he had given up on ever seeing again. Maybe it was psychological as the doctors said, but that was bullshit, why would he want to stay blind if he had the power to see again? Plus it would get everyone off his back. He was tired of everyone walking on eggshells around him and his bitterness and guilt was eating at him.

  He didn’t need a psychotherapist telling him he had a problem; he already knew he did. He wasn't going to take anxiety medications either; he wasn’t anxious or depressed. What he wanted was to be left alone and to move on with his life. Life was too short to dwell on the past. He had seen that for himself with the death of Madeline, who never got the chance to see her twenty-eighth birthday.

  Without facing his mother, he repeated his earlier words but calmer this time. “I have no need for another executive assistant Mother.”

  “You’re as stubborn as your father was. You can’t do everything for yourself Liam; you need help, and I’m not going to be here all the time. I’m going on that cruise with Florence and the girls for a month, you know that.”

  “Yes, and I’m not stopping you, just stay out of my personal life Mother, please.”

  “I can’t help it, you’re my son, and I love you. You need an assistant who will be here to help you with whatever you need, but someone who live nearby this time.”

  Cynthia Bradford said.

  “What you just describe
d isn’t an assistant, but a nursemaid,” he snapped. “What is she supposed to do give me my baths as well?”

  “Stop being a smartass Liam, if it’s a nursemaid you need, then you can have one as well. I am very willing to oblige and you can certainly afford it.”

  “I already have an assistant there is no need for another. Kate is working out just fine.”

  “You don’t have an assistant; Kate quit last week. Did you forget that little part where she said, and I quote ‘I have had enough of your bullshit you arrogant bastard? I quit?’ In the past month since you have decided to go back to work you’ve fired four assistants, and two walked out. I’m reaching the end of my patience with you and your temper Liam.

  “One day you are going to get your eyesight back, you just have to be a bit more patient, and if you don’t get your sight back, then at least, you will still have your life to be thankful for. Maybe you should stop being stubborn and make an appointment to see the therapist the doctor referred you to.”

  “Easy for you to say, you are not the one immersed in darkness day and night not knowing which the other is. I refuse to see some psychotherapist.”

  “Liam—”

  “No Mother, I don’t need a nursemaid. Go on your cruise and leave me in peace. I’ll survive. I always have and besides I have Percy to keep me company.”

  “It's either hiring an assistant, or I stay. You can’t have it both ways, Liam. What is it going to be? And believe me, it won’t be a picnic if I have to stay here with you sulking the whole damn month. You think you are stubborn, well son you haven’t seen anything yet, so what is it going to be my company or a full-time assistant?”

  “Fine go ahead and hire your nursemaid,” he said sighing.

  “I will,” she said walking out of the door and heading for the small room she had made into an office for the past couple of months.

  *