Chapter 1<\/strong><\/p>\nBLINKING HIS SIGHTLESS EYES, CARL Warner held his girlfriend\u2019s elbow in a firm grip. The fluffy plush carpet sunk around his leather shoes, while aromas of lobster and shrimp drifted through the air, enticing him with an alluring spicy scent. The appealing cadence of Leslie\u2019s voice made his heart skip as she conversed with someone, verifying his dinner reservation. Walking further into the restaurant, his shin collided into a short hard object.<\/p>\n
\u201cOuch!\u201d He dropped her arm, rubbing his knee.<\/p>\n
\u201cSorry.\u201d Leslie gripped his shoulder. \u201cI forgot to tell you we\u2019re at your reserved table. Your chair is in front of you. Are you alright?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m okay.\u201d He pulled the chair out, his leg still throbbing with pain. The seat creaked beneath his weight as he sat. He wanted to be a gentleman and pull out Leslie\u2019s chair, but because of his blindness, he knew it would be easier for her to do herself.<\/p>\n
He pushed his dark glasses up on his nose. The murmur of the other patrons created a warm, soothing atmosphere. Fingering the cotton tablecloth, he swallowed, gathering his courage for one of the most important events in his life. Feeling vibrations on the floor from an approaching person, he presumed their server was arriving. Footsteps sounded behind them then stopped. \u201cHi, I\u2019m Alex, your server this evening.\u201d His voice droned on, reciting their specials for the day.<\/p>\n
Carl cleared his throat. \u201cExcuse me. Do you have a Braille menu?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019ll check.\u201d The retreating shuffle of Alex\u2019s footsteps diminished as he left to get a menu.<\/p>\n
He focused on the familiar plunk of Leslie\u2019s purse hitting the floor and her nails tapping against the tabletop. He tried to soothe his frazzled nerves. He wiped his sweaty palms on his pants. \u201cLeslie, why don\u2019t you sit to my left? I don\u2019t like it when you sit on the other side of the table.\u201d<\/p>\n
The dull noise signaled Leslie\u2019s chair sliding across the carpet and the clatter of silverware indicated she\u2019d moved the items closer to Carl. She then plopped back into her chair, now sitting beside him. The sweet jasmine smell of her perfume reminded him of a refreshing burst of energy. \u201cThere, is that better?\u201d<\/p>\n
He sighed. \u201cMuch better.\u201d He reached toward her and felt the laminated menu that she clutched in her soft hands. \u201cWhat would you like to eat tonight, dear?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m not sure. Carl, this place is so expensive. Are you sure you want to eat here tonight? People usually come here when they\u2019re celebrating a special occasion.\u201d Her voice held a twinge of\u2026something when she told her opinion.<\/p>\n
He took her hand, caressed her skin, relishing the smooth polish on her fingernails. He pressed his lips to her palm and his heart beat accelerated. The heavy thud of footsteps indicated their server had returned, placing the Braille menu into Carl\u2019s hand. \u201cUh, thanks,\u201d he whispered. He continued to grasp her palm with his left hand while touching his right fingertips lightly over the bumpy white paper.<\/p>\n
\u201cCarl, why did you take me to this fancy restaurant?\u201d<\/p>\n
He stopped reading the menu, sensing her looking toward him. He heard her scooting closer, her long straight hair brushed his arm. He reached into his pocket and fingered the velvet box before finally removing the small square container. \u201cI\u2019d wanted to wait until after dinner to ask you this, but I can\u2019t put this off any longer.\u201d He held the box toward her and heard her exhale, accepting the item. \u201cLeslie, would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?\u201d<\/p>\n
Silence enveloped them. A bead of sweat trickled down his back. He wiped his damp hands on his cotton slacks, tapping his foot. Leslie\u2019s muted sobs surrounded the table. Hoping she cried tears of joy, he stroked the wetness from her face. \u201cHoney, don\u2019t cry. Please say you\u2019ll be my wife.\u201d She pushed his hand away and blew her nose, snorting through whatever she was using to wipe her nose. He wondered why it was taking her so long to answer.<\/p>\n
\u201cOh, Carl.\u201d She sniffed. She then pressed the box back into his palm. \u201cOh, Carl. The ring is so beautiful, and I wish I could keep it.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBut\u2026\u201d He knew the beginnings of rejection when he heard it.<\/p>\n
\u201cBut, I just can\u2019t accept your gift. I\u2019m sorry.\u201d<\/p>\n
Tears slid down his cheeks. He wiped the salty wetness from his eyes, relieved he sported his dark glasses. Another thought occurred to him. He cleared his throat, hoping his voice wouldn\u2019t falter. \u201cWhy don\u2019t you take the ring and think about it for a couple of days? I love you Leslie, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you.\u201d<\/p>\n
Her long hair brushed his forearm again, and he sensed she shook her head. \u201cI can\u2019t return your feelings. I\u2019m sorry.\u201d<\/p>\n
He took her hand, clutching her soft fingers. \u201cI know you must care for me. We\u2019ve been spending so much time together. Why are you acting so strange?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI can\u2019t marry you, and that\u2019s final.\u201d She removed her hand from his.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy?\u201d<\/p>\n
She inhaled and squeezed his bicep. \u201cI can\u2019t marry a blind man. I\u2019m sorry. I don\u2019t want to be burdened with that responsibility.\u201d<\/p>\n
Her words knocked the wind out of his lungs. \u201cI\u2019m not a responsibility,\u201d Carl muttered. He clutched the tablecloth and the scent of warm, yeasty rolls and fresh butter surrounded him.<\/p>\n
\u201cHere\u2019s your bread,\u201d Alex announced. Carl\u2019s stomach churned, and he wondered if he would be strong enough to survive eating dinner with her. \u201cHave you decided what you would like to order?\u201d<\/p>\n
Carl shook his head, turning toward the server. \u201cWe still need a few more minutes.\u201d He waited until the footsteps faded before turning toward Leslie, still clutching the velvet box. Sweat rolled down his face. \u201cI need some air.\u201d He stood, unfolded his cane, and walked toward the exit, praying he wouldn\u2019t bump into a waiter or another diner.<\/p>\n
\u201cCarl, wait, let me help you.\u201d Leslie\u2019s long stringy hair irritated his skin. The silky strands brushed his arm when she leaned toward him, her flower-scented perfume overpowering his senses.<\/p>\n
\u201cI don\u2019t need your help!\u201d Pushing her hand away, he tried to find his way to the lobby. When his foot stepped onto the solid wooden floor, he knew he had reached his destination. He squeezed his tear-filled eyes shut, issuing a plea to God, hoping he would be able to make it home before he lost his mind.<\/p>\n
\u201cSir, did you need some help?\u201d A young male voice asked, and he assumed it was one of the restaurant\u2019s employees.<\/p>\n
Carl balled his hands into fists. \u201cI need a ride home. Could you call me a cab, please?\u201d Normally, he\u2019d call the cab himself but, he was just too upset to do that now.<\/p>\n
\u201cSure.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cCould you let me know when you see the car outside?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo problem.\u201d<\/p>\n
On second thought, he didn\u2019t want to wait inside. He really needed to get some fresh air. \u201cCan you help me find the door? I\u2019d rather wait outside.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSir, I\u2019m not sure that\u2019s such a good idea. Looks like we\u2019re about to have a big rainstorm. Maybe you should sit in here. I\u2019ll let you know when your ride comes.\u201d<\/p>\n
He shook his head. \u201cI don\u2019t care. I want to wait outside.\u201d<\/p>\n
Bony fingers clutched Carl\u2019s elbow, leading him outdoors. Echoes of thunder tumbled from the sky, and the scent of impending rain filled the air. The young man led Carl for a few seconds before stopping. \u201cThere\u2019s a bench right in front of you. Are you sure you want to wait out here?\u201d<\/p>\n
He nodded, sitting, barely paying the boy any attention. Soon, heavy drops of rain splattered onto his face, cooling his heated skin. He clutched his cane, turning his head toward the heavens, wondering what people would think about seeing a thirty-five-year-old weeping blind man. He screamed, his lungs filling with moist air, while rain mingled with his tears.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
I hope all of you had an amazing Christmas! Southern Comfort is a available! Come and enjoy the first chapter: Chapter 1 BLINKING HIS SIGHTLESS EYES, CARL Warner held his girlfriend\u2019s elbow in a firm grip. The fluffy plush carpet sunk around his leather shoes, while aromas of lobster and shrimp drifted through the air, […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[5,35],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-3436","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-african-american-novels","category-cecelia-dowdys-books"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/paovYP-Tq","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/ceceliadowdy.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3436","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/ceceliadowdy.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/ceceliadowdy.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/ceceliadowdy.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/ceceliadowdy.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=3436"}],"version-history":[{"count":5,"href":"http:\/\/ceceliadowdy.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3436\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":3464,"href":"http:\/\/ceceliadowdy.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3436\/revisions\/3464"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/ceceliadowdy.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=3436"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/ceceliadowdy.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=3436"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/ceceliadowdy.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=3436"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
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