"Hey, Matt? I can't tell which one of these shirts is the black one," Emmett Clark shouted frustratedly across the apartment while trying to feel the difference in the fabrics over and over again. He heard Matt's footsteps start down the hall.
"Whoa, man, put some jeans on. You know you're not my type," Matt joked, walking through the doorway seeing Emmett stand in his underwear near his closet.
"Yes, and wouldn't Suzanne be glad to hear it," Emmett poked back.
Matt and Emmett had shared an apartment ever since they were dorm mates their first three years of college. They had become close friends, and Emmett was grateful for it. Matt assisted him whenever he could, whether it was walking somewhere new, crossing a street, or picking out clothes. In short, Matt was Emmett's vision.
"Here you go, Matt said, taking the shirt out of the closet and handing it to Emmett.
"Thanks," Emmett responded as Matt left the room.
Emmett wondered yet again where he would live, and with whom, once Matt and Suzanne were married. He had been looking for months, but none of the places or people seemed right. In two weeks, though, it was happening whether he was ready or not.
For the second time that day, Emmett cursed his blindness. He wanted so badly to just be able to live by himself after Matt moved out. He knew, though, that it really wasn't realistic, and since he had no family to speak of, he didn't have a place to fall back on. He was relying on his friends at this point, as he had been incapable of finding somewhere outside of an assisted living facility, which was a nice environment. The problem was that Emmett thought his age of 29 was fifty years too young to be living there.
After dressing, Emmett walked into the kitchen.
"You ready?" he heard Matt ask.
"Yup," Emmett responded, putting his bag over his shoulder and grabbing his cane, placing it in the bag. Matt drove him to the university and helped him to the main doors of the musical arts building.
"Thanks," Emmett said, walking through the doors. He got his cane out and started down the hall, counting his footsteps. A familiar voice interrupted the silence that echoed through the halls.
"Dr. Clark, may I help you to your studio?"
"Thank you, Clara, that would be greatly appreciated," Emmett agreed, folding his cane and putting it back in his bag.
Once in the office, Emmett sat his bag down and leaned against his desk as he heard Clara, one of his students, sit at one of the pianos.
"Thank you again, Clara. Now, shall we get started?"
--
"Listen, would you just meet him? In person? Emmett's a great guy, and even though he can afford the rent on his own, it's just . . . easier for him to have someone around." Cassidy Andrews looked into the skeptically smiling eyes in front of her, pausing only for a moment. "Besides, you need some company. You live alone on the other side of town, all you do is work, and you could use someone to bond with. The apartment is really big, and Emmett has been my best friend for almost a decade, although that fact alone might scare you away. Seriously, though, it would be great."
"Cassidy, I don't know?" an inquisitive Gavin Adams started.
"Just take the time to meet him, in person. You've got two weeks to make up your mind before his current roommate gets married and leaves."
"Two weeks?!"
"Just meet him," Cassidy demanded.
"Alright, alright, I'll meet him. When?" Gavin asked.
"Are you free tonight?"
--
"I'll see you Monday, Will," Emmett said, closing the door behind his last student of the day. All seven of them had asked the same question that day: when would Emmett perform a solo faculty recital?
"It has been a while," he said to no one in particular. His thoughts were interrupted by his ringing cell phone.
"This is Emmett," he answered, flipping the phone open.
"Hey, Em!" Cassidy greeted excitedly through the speaker.
"Hey Cass. How are you today?"
"Great." She paused. "I'll get right to the point. Do you have any plans tonight?"
"Nope. Why?"
"What? How a guy like you has any night of the week open is beyond me. Well, anyways, great. There's someone I want you to meet," Cassidy informed Emmett.
"Cass, you know me. I don't?"
"Relax," she interrupted. "I'm not trying to set you up. He might be willing to share your acre of apartment with you," she teased.
"Okay, what time?"
"Meet me at the main doors of the music building in two minutes."
Emmett chuckled at his friend's eccentricity as he hung up the phone, picked up his bag, and locked his door.
Cassidy greeted him the moment he opened the door to exit the building.
"Where are we going? And does this stranger that I'm meeting have a name?" Emmett asked as he took her arm.
"Do you remember that chef I've told you about? Gavin Adams? He's a really good friend of mine. It's actually hard to believe that you haven't met yet," she commented as they got in the car. "We're going to Kelly's coffee shop. She won't be home for a few more days, though, so it will just be him and us."
"Mmhmm. Gavin. Got it. So, how do I know that Gavin isn't an ax murderer or some creeper?"
"Well, he might be, because I've told him almost everything there is to know about you and he's still willing to meet you," Cassidy jested. Emmett laughed.
"Wow. That's promising." A comfortable silence passed for a few minutes.
"He doesn't know you're blind yet," Cassidy blurted out quietly and spontaneously. Emmett turned to face her as much as his seatbelt would allow, aghast.
"I can't go, then, Cassidy! You failed to mention the most important thing about me!"
"It's not like he's not open-minded."
"Cassidy Andrews, living with a non-handicapped gay man is probably bad enough for someone like him. Living with a blind one is completely different and even worse," Emmett practically shouted.
"Hey, Em?" Cassidy asked quietly.
"What?" Emmett asked, trying to be angry.
"I've never, in the ten years that I've known you, heard you raise your voice like that."
