I'm Blind Not Fragile

Chapter 21

I hope my father likes my hair. I'll have to get used to having my hair done and wearing professional clothes if I'm to start working at his company soon. I hope my blindness isn't a burden, getting things printed in Braille is unfairly more expensive, having a disability will always make your cost of living higher, no matter what.

I hope the dinner tonight goes well, I think my father said it was with the same people as last time. They seemed nice, well the girl did I think her name was Eliza? Her brother Hans was a real piece of work. Always acting like he was better than us, but in his defense he probably is better, more important, and more respected than me.

The hairdresser lady said that she was finished with my hair as Juniper entered the room. We weren't in my tower any longer. We were somewhere on the ground floor as Howard said it would be better if we were closer to the door for when it was time to leave.

"Hello, Gertrude. I hope you were able to sit through Helga's treatment with as little pain as possible." Juniper said from behind me

"I'm sure it was as painless as it could be. I trust that Helga made my hair beautiful. Do you think my father will like it?" I asked slightly nervous. I don't want to risk him punishing me. I'll be the obedient daughter he wants. What else is there to do?

"It's beautiful. I'm sure Mr. Lewis will be pleased. Now I've got some concealer here and it might hurt when I apply it, but we don't want any of those bruises showing right?" She explained to me more thoughtfully than I deserved. Each of those bruises represents me disrespecting my father in some way. Me making other people's lives harder for no real reason. I deserved most of them. But I nodded nonetheless, bruises will make me look less put together and Howard needs me to look good for his meeting in a couple of hours.

Juniper started dabbing a liquid on my cheek from the original slap, as well as my arms. Anything that would show from beneath my dress I'm sure. As she dabbed it hurt, as it hurts when one pushes on their bruises. Juniper moved up to my neck and I was a bit confused until I remembered when my father grabbed the back of my neck harshly a couple of nights ago and when he closed off my airways when I talked back the other day. He was right. I learned from the pain. I don't talk back to him anymore.

Juniper blew on the concealer to help it dry and it made goose flesh erupt on my skin. She told me we would have to wait a couple more minutes for the concealer to dry before she could help me put my new dress on. When I felt it earlier it was much smoother than the last one, which was covered in lace. This one was just as conservative as the last, but it seemed a touch smaller and the fabric was softer.

The only pains leftover from my disobedience are bruises. The pepper spray pain faded a while ago, my nose, throat, and eyes no longer burned for which I'm grateful. My bruises lasted longer but would fade in a couple of days from my experience of sparring with Brandon. When we were still friends. The thought of Brandon put me in a melancholy mood. My best friend of more than a decade just dropped me like a sack of tomatoes. Of course, it just reinforces all the things my father has been saying these past few days. How could anyone love someone like me?

Juniper helped me into my dress and put me in my shoes just in time for one of my father's servants to tell us it was time to go. I was escorted out of the room and brought to my fathers waiting arm by the door.

"You look good Gertrude," He said causing me to smile.

I never considered myself a pretty girl, why would I? It's not like I can see myself and all the boys at my school couldn't see me either. Brandon used to call me pretty when we were kids, but what does he know, we were 12. Sebastian once tried to explain to me what beauty was. But that question was too deep for a fourteen year old boy to explain. Even if he could see when he was little.

I guess beauty is subjective to the seeing population. I've never had the opportunity to judge someone by their looks and, by what I hear, I'm glad I'm not one of those vain people.

I was glad that Howard approved. I enjoyed pleasing him, because I very much did not enjoy displeasing him. He is not an unreasonable man, he gives compliments when due and punishments when necessary.

"Thank you father. Shall we get going? We don't want the Chamberlains to get impatient." I replied courteously.

He must have approved of my reply because he gently placed his hand on my back and led me to the car. His gentle signals showed me his approval. When he starts getting a bit rougher I know he is displeased with me, or he is getting agitated. I dared not do anything to ruin his mood with any of my immature antics so I simply sat quietly and smiled. Exactly as he liked me, quiet and docile.

The car ride was long. Much longer than the first ride, of course that makes sense because last time we were driving from Brooklyn, and this time we were coming from my father's home. We eventually made it to the Chamberlaine home and as Howard got out of the car I waited for him to come around to my side and help me out. He had yet again neglected to give me a cane, so I can't move about freely, but he was probably worried I would run off. That may be something Raine would do, but I'm not her anymore am I? No, my name is Gertrude Lewis and I'm a good daughter.

I got an immense sense of Deja Vu when my father and I walked up the front steps to what I'm sure is another sprawling mansion like my father's. The Chamberlains' house smelled like a mix of orange blossoms and lilacs, and it made me want to speak with their garden keeper. I'm sure whoever it is greatly deserves the compliment.

My father bangs the knocker on their door. It sounds like it should be greased pretty soon. The metal ring squeaked against itself as it crashed down to make a sharp crisp sound that I'm sure echoed throughout their house.

As the door wooshed open, the heat escaped and brushed against my face. The butler took a moment before he cleared his throat. "Ah Mister Lewis, and Miss Raine, welcome back to Chamberlain Manor. This meeting is in good spirits I hope?" He questioned.

I was about to correct him on my name, because my father's hand tightens on my elbow as he said it. But my father beat me to the chase of replying to the butler.

"You would do well to mind your own business." He started, "Nosy help usually doesn't last long, do they...Braxton?" His threat was clear and it hung in the air for a solid 30 seconds.

"Quite right you are sir. I apologize, I will show you into the sitting room now." The butler said flustered. I don't blame him. My father is a very intimidating man. It's funny how a feared gang leader and his son don't seem to phase me, but my father's voice with an edge to it, makes me want to hide.

"We know the way," My father interjected before pulling me through the doorway and past the butler who trailed behind us, I'm sure to make sure Howard truly did know where he was going.

"Now Gertrude, remember you represent Lewis Corp. tonight so you must stay polite and professional. If you embarrass me at all tonight, I might feel less inclined to let you go home to that disobedient brother of yours. Now chin up. Smile. Tonight is a great night indeed." He said, causing me to gulp. If tonight is such a great night, then why is every instinct in my body telling me to run?