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I am blind but I’m no longer lost in the dark. The future with Charlotte is vast and bright, and over that horizon—ourhorizon—I can see to forever.
epilogue two
Spring 2019
I walked down the corridors of NYU’s Liberal Arts college building, thoughwaddledis probably more accurate. I looked—and felt—like I’d swallowed a bowling ball.I’m too short to be this pregnant,I thought. And I still had twelve weeks to go. The mere idea that I was going to get even bigger was too exhausting to contemplate.
I stopped at the bench outside Noah’s office and gratefully lowered myself onto it. A clock on the wood-paneled wall opposite said I had ten minutes until his class got out. I eased a sigh, my hand running absently over my rounded belly. The baby stirred and I smiled. I smiled wider. I hadn’t stopped smiling all day, and I itched to take out the smallish box that lay snug in my bag, to look at its contents for the hundredth time that day. But I left it alone and closed my eyes, just for a minute…
And promptly dozed off.
I awoke with a jolt as the hall filled with the echoing voices and footsteps of dozens of students. Amid the crowd, I saw Noah, holding the arm of a colleague and coming my way, sunglasses on, white cane tapping from side to side.
My heart clanged madly just from the sight of my gorgeous husband. I silently thanked the NYU dress code that even guest instructors were required to wear a suit. Today, Noah wore light gray—my favorite on him—and a cobalt tie with gold paisley print. He looked devastating, and I could tell by the stolen glances from some of the female students that I wasn’t alone in that estimation.
The professor who guided him—Harry Albright, if I remembered correctly—saw me, and smiled brightly beneath a salt-and-pepper mustache. He spoke a few words to Noah, informing him I was here, I guessed. The way Noah’s face lit up was like a jolt of pure happiness straight to my heart.
“We’ve arrived at your office,” Harry Albright said as they approached, “where your wife awaits, as promised. Charlotte, you look radiant.”
“Thank you, Harry. I don’t feel radiant. I feel like a walrus.”
“A walrus? Yesterday it was a manatee.” Noah let go of Harry’s arm and reached out his hand to me. “Pace yourself, baby. We still have three months to go and you’re going to run out of bloated sea animals to compare yourself to.”
“Oh, aren’t you hilarious,” I said as Noah planted a soft kiss on my cheek, his hand going at once to my stomach. He always greeted us both at the same time.
“I can say that,” Noah told Harry, “because it’s utter horseshit. She’s gorgeous and that’s a fact.”
“Indeed she is,” Harry said with a twinkle in his eye. “And Charlotte, are you welcoming a boy or a girl?”
“Girl,” Noah said automatically, infusing that one syllable with fierce pride and love. “We’re having a girl.”
Harry laughed. “Of course you are, Mr. Lake! You tell me and the rest of the department approximately sixteen times a day.” He turned and winked at me. “First-time proud father syndrome. Textbook.”
“Don’t you have an appointment, Harry?” Noah inquired, a small smile twitching his lips.
“Indeed. Charlotte, so good to see you, and congratulations again on your…what was it? Ah yes, a girl.”
With a wink for me, Harry rejoined the current of students flowing down the hallway. Some were likely Noah’s own students who took his Comparative Literature course: Writing Memory. He was a guest professor for the year after having written a successful memoir based on his journey from the accident that stole his vision to his trek across Europe. I think he liked teaching more than he realized. I think he liked it enough to make it a career. For a little while, anyway. I couldn’t imagine he’d stick to one path for too long; he had too much wanderlust in him. We both did. We’d been traveling for the last year almost nonstop for my career, until a little pink plus sign on a pregnancy test six months ago put the brakes on that wanderlust.
“If we have to stop,” Noah said when I told him the news, “then this is the best possible reason.”
Now, he kissed me again, beaming like the proud father Harry described him to be. “This is a nice surprise. What are you doing here, babe?” His smile faltered. “Are you okay? The baby’s okay…?”
“Everyone’s perfectly fine,” I said gently.
I never laughed off his worry. It was hard enough, I thought, to be an expectant parent. Even harder when you had to travel that uncertain road in the dark.
Noah’s concerned frown lifted back into a smile, his hand gentle on my stomach over my flowered dress. The baby kicked or rolled or did whatever baby gymnasts do: punching my ribs and stomping my bladder at the same time.
“She’s awake,” Noah said quietly, a soft, sweet smile on his face I’m sure no one ever saw but me.
“You can say that again,” I laughed, wincing. “She hasn’t stopped moving all day. I was thinking you and I could take a walk, get her settled down. You’re done for the day, right?”
“I am,” Noah said. “Let me grab my stuff and we’re outta here.”
He unlocked the door behind me, and I watched him, my own fierce pride burning in my heart, as he made his way around his office with ease. It was dim—he never bothered with lights unless he had students. He gathered his Braille keyboard and laptop and stuffed them into his bag along with the latest book he was reading: a wide, thick novel printed in Braille. He’d studied hard at the Helen Keller Foundation and in nine months was opening real books again, and I know it was like a whole new world had opened up to him. I’d never been so proud.
We stepped back into the hall that was quieter now, though not by much. A student passed, gave my swollen belly a second take, and shouted, “Ooh! Way to go, Mr. Lake!”
