Excerpt: Cutting Cords by Mickie Ashling
Cutting Cords by Mickie Ashling
Release Date: 11/2009
Publisher: Dreamspinner Press
Buy Link: http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/store/product_info.php?cPath=55_76&products_id=1641
Blurb: When Sloan Driscoll and Cole Fujiwara become reluctant roommates, neither man is willing to share too much. Sloan is instantly attracted to Cole but knows it's a hopeless cause; Cole has a steady girlfriend. But one night they share a joint, and Cole opens a window neither anticipated. A relationship may be impossible-both men are living with heart-breaking secrets. While Sloan is smart, sassy, and a brilliant graphic artist, he´s also a pothead with severe body image problems. Cole, a former major league pitcher, has his own personal crisis: he's going blind. Sloan and Cole are suffering on so many levels, they might not realize that the ultimate salvation could be within each other´s arms.
Excerpt:
Dr. Butterman´s office was small but functional. Everything was within reach, but more importantly, for a sight impaired person, easy to find. The colors were brighter, the writing on his books and magazines was larger. The king- sized computer monitor was designed specifically for the vision impaired. It utilized a software program highly recommended by Lighthouse International and was the same one that Cole had on his PC at home.
Cole looked up when the door pushed open and the doctor walked in.
"Good morning, Cole."
"John," Cole acknowledged with a slight nod. Dr. Butterman insisted that his patients call him by his first name.
"How´s it going?" John asked, hefting his large body into the black leather chair.
"Fine."
"Did you come on the bus or by subway?"
Cole was silent, afraid to answer the question.
Dr. Butterman sighed and pushed away from his desk. "Cole..."
"Look, I´m not ready yet," Cole´s tone was heated, bracing for a fight. "I haven´t gotten all the steps down."
"And you never will if you don´t bite the bullet and just do it."
"I will, okay," Cole replied, backing down a bit. "Give me some time."
"Cole, we´ve been talking about this for months. You´ve got to stop pretending that it´s not happening."
"Oh, believe me, doc, I know its fucking happening!"
"Then you need to make the decision to stop acting as if you´re sighted and start acting like a blind man," Dr. Butterman said gently. He hated to push, but Cole was a stubborn one.
"I´m not blind yet!"
"No, you´re not," Dr. Butterman acknowledged, but he continued, "you may not be for years, or you may wake up tomorrow and be completely blind. Then what´ll you do?"
"I´ll cross that bridge when I get to it."
"Son, we´ve gone over this many times, yet you continue to fight this every step of the way. You need to make a decision about whether you will use a cane or a guide dog if you expect to be self-sufficient and not burn up all your money on limousines and a car service."
"I have money."
"Yes, you do. But it won´t last forever."
"Look, John. My family has money, and I´m sure that I´ll always have enough to take private transport to wherever I need to go."
"What if you find yourself in a situation where you can´t get a car? Then what will you do?"
"That scenario is highly unlikely."
"Cole, why are you even here? Why come to see me every week, when you insist on pushing away all our resources? Who are you fooling?"
"I´m not tapping a cane in front of me," Cole replied in a voice gruff with emotion. The sentence was punctuated with a sob at the end when his voice cracked and he said, "I´d rather die first."
"Cole, there´s no shame in being blind."
"There is for me, John. I´m Yonsei, a fourth generation Japanese-American who was destined to bring great pride to my family. All I´ve brought so far is heartache and shame."
"Through no fault of your own, Cole."
"I´m an only son, John. I was supposed to follow in my father´s footsteps, yet I had to give up his dream because of this disease. Now, I´m being pressured into marrying, into having a family, to carry on the Fujiwara name. All I can think of is that I have this gene in me; this flaw that will pass onto my child or grandchild, and I can´t do it."
"Is that the only thing stopping you from marrying? Hmm?"
"I don´t want to discuss this anymore," Cole stood abruptly, ready to escape.
"Your choice, Cole," John said, trying to calm him down by remaining calm himself. "I´m here to help you, not to judge in anyway. Surely you know that?"
"I said drop it!"
"Very well," John reached out for Cole´s hand and was relieved when he felt the warm hand pressing in on his. "Come back here and sit down, Cole."
Cole flopped down on the chair, taking back his hand abruptly. "Why?"
"Isn´t all this stress about your dad and not you?"
"A lot of it is, yes."
"What about Cole? What do you want to do for the rest of your life?"
"Huh! How about seeing one foot in front of me."
"Beyond that, Cole. I know you´re getting your master´s in Asian Studies. Are you planning to teach?"
"I´ve thought about it, however, I´m not sure I´d be comfortable in front of a class when I can´t see anyone."
"What does it matter so long as they can see you?"
"And what are they going to see? A pathetic blind man fumbling his way around his desk?"
"You know what? This pity party of yours is getting really old."
"Tough shit, John! I haven´t had years to deal with this yet. It´s all new to me, so I´m entitled to feel sorry for myself."
"Well, when you decide to stop feeling sorry for yourself and start dealing with reality, come back and see me," John said, standing up and getting ready to leave. He knew he was being unprofessional and should continue to be patient and cater to Cole´s fragile ego, but it had been over six months, and he was making no progress whatsoever. Maybe it was time for some tough love. The sad thing was that this wasn´t all about being blind. The man had other issues he was dancing around, which were just as critical.
John had seen it all in this place and had learned how to work with different types of people. Men or women, rich or poor; they were no different. When the curtain fell and darkness surrounded them, the fear and the dread were universal.
---
I heard the keys in the locks, and I straightened up from my reclining position on the sofa. I must have dozed off after all my mood swings, definitely lethargic from that orgasm on Cole´s bed.
He walked in and looked terribly unhappy. His brows were furrowed and the beautiful eyes looked troubled.
"Hey," I called out, waiting to see what kind of reply I´d get.
He sort of grunted and nodded his head and went into the kitchen.
I followed quickly, anxious to help with my groceries but wary of this sudden shift in temper. He was fine when he left a few hours ago. Now he looked like a stick of dynamite, waiting for the spark to set him off.
"So, what´d you buy?" he asked, trying to appear interested but clearly bored.
"I bought some peanut butter and jelly, some tomato soup, chips and salsa, oh, and some tuna for protein," I added with a smile, hoping he´d smile back.
He looked at me like I was some sort of bug. "That´s it?"
"Yeah, that´s it. You were expecting filet mignon?"
"Fuck off, Sloan."
"What is your fucking problem, Cole? You´re acting like you haven´t taken a shit in days. Are you constipated or what?!?"
"I am not constipated, nor do I have a problem," Cole started to talk, every word more frigid than the next. "I´m just sick of being told how I should feel, what I should do, and where the fuck I should go next."
"Who´s telling you this?" I asked, taken aback by the vehemence.
"Does it matter?" he screamed, completely out of control.
"Whoa, dude, chill out, okay? You want some ganja?"
"Fuck, yeah!"
"Okay, come on...my bedroom, now."