Blinded No More

By Nancy A. Wiseman

Cara Munden opened herself to the unexpected attraction, falling hard into a new love that arrived when everything else in her life was falling apart. Instead of embracing Cara's kind, loving heart, Angel Anwir had other plans, preying on Cara's greatest fear to keep her firmly tangled in her toxic web. Through Angel's gradual manipulation and control, Cara is taken on a roller coaster of emotional highs and lows that confuse her and cause her to question herself and her beliefs as she navigates Angel's erratic behaviour. With the support of Cara's best friend, Lila Alstead, and guidance from her psychologist, Dr. Kendra, Cara's naivety becomes enlightened to the real character of the partner she has given her heart to.On this journey of self-discovery, will Cara's rose coloured glasses fade, or will her deep love for Angel keep her forever trapped?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tellwell Talent
• Release date: Nov 1, 2023
• ISBN: 9781779412782

Nancy A. Wiseman

Nancy Wiseman is a mother of two adult children, a world traveller, and a self-taught entrepreneur. Nancy is a person who appreciates the intricacies of the human experience from the exultations to the heartbreak. She is a lifelong learner of personal and professional growth. Nancy's talent as a writer is her eloquent execution allowing the reader to identify with her characters in both action and feeling. Her debut fictional novel, Blinded No More, is the culmination of perseverance and grit as an author and dedication to the craft of writing.

Book preview

Chapter 1

The Catalyst

The ring of her cell phone in the middle of the night jolted Cara from a deep sleep. Slapping at the edge of her nightstand trying to find it in the dark, her fingertips hit the rubber cover. Clasping it, she brought it to her ear. Hello.

This is Father Patrick’s Care Centre. It’s time. You need to be here now.

The night nurse’s voice was not recognizable to Cara’s foggy brain, but the words were. Springing out of bed, sweat coating her body, Cara fumbled in the darkness for the light switch. The brightness blinded her as she threw on a pair of jeans and a sweater before bolting down the hall to the stairs.

Please, God, don’t let her die alone.

Racing up the stairs to the main floor, she was thankful that Dani and Cody were at sleepovers. Passing her husband Jay’s bedroom, the silence was deafening with his all-too-familiar absence. He was probably on his sixth pint of Keith’s, out with friends she had never met. How long had it been since they had done anything as a couple—two, maybe two and a half years now? She knew she was no longer his shining light.

Outside, the October night’s unexpected warmth felt suffocating, like the looming thoughts of where she was headed. Shifting the car into gear and heading up the long asphalt driveway, Cara glanced into the rear-view mirror to see the large leafless poplar trees swallowed into the darkness.

Cara could have done this twenty-minute drive blindfolded. Speeding through every light, whether green, yellow, or red, she was okay with breaking the rules this one time. She had to make it to the Care Centre before it was too late.

She’d known the call was coming, but that didn’t make it any easier. Whatever you do, Cara, don’t be late. When had she ever been late?

Vibrating at the glass front entrance waiting for the buzz to allow her in, Cara was sure her thunderous heartbeats would shatter the glass if the door didn’t unlock soon. Bursting into the familiar antiseptic smell of the pale green hallways, hearing only the sound of her rubber soles squeaking against the freshly polished floors, Cara took one deep breath, exhaling. You can do this, Cara, she told herself before entering her dying mom’s room.

Cara winced at the reality of what Alzheimer’s had taken away. Gone was the beautiful, vibrant soul with a positive attitude and outlook. Gone was the strong, independent woman who always made the best of every situation, wearing a smile even in difficult times. In place lay a pale, pronounced, skeletal frame, cheeks hollowed, only her chest showing that a molecule of her mom was still there as her ribs slowly rose and fell below the soft pink nighty, with each laboured breath.

Shaking her head from side to side, Why, Mom? Why like this?

Inhale…exhale.

Tenderly kissing her forehead, Cara shivered. I got you, Mom. She pulled the thick white quilted comforter up from the bottom of the bed, exposing bright, colourful printed flowers as it unfolded. Dragging the paisley-patterned La-Z-Boy chair as close as possible to her mom’s bedside, Cara sat, placing her mom’s hand in hers and stroking it ever so gently. You’re not alone, Mom. I made it. I’m here.

Inhale…exhale.

I can’t believe six years have come and gone since Dad passed and I brought you halfway across Canada to Calgary to live with us. I tried my best, Mom, to make the transition for you as easy as possible by setting up your new bedroom to look just like your old one, with soft yellow walls, your furniture, knickknacks, and family photos. I wanted things to feel familiar and comforting for you. I knew I’d done the right thing when you shared with me that the heaviness in your stomach was gone, and you felt safe in your new home.

Inhale…exhale.

Mom, I’m so glad you were able to spend so many special moments with my family. Having you be part of the birthday parties, the kids’ school concerts, and sporting events was such a blessing for us all. I loved watching how excited you got at Dani’s basketball games, cheering so loud when she would complete a free throw. It was so cute seeing you jump up and holler, Way to go, Cara, thinking it was me because I too wore number three when you watched me play ball as a kid. Last Christmas was a little tough when you no longer understood that the present sitting on your lap was something special for you, but that was okay, Mom. You were with us, and that’s all that mattered.

Inhale…exhale.

Cara reached out her hand to softly touch her Mom’s cheek. She remembered as a child how her Mom would do the same thing to her before kissing her goodnight.

Wasn’t it fun, Mom when we went on all our road trips together? It always made me giggle, to catch you randomly humming as we drove down the highway. I wondered what was going through your mind. Were you thinking about all the trips across Canada you took with Dad, or were you just happy to be out and about? I know you enjoyed visiting all those little towns we went to, especially walking through the musty antique stores in Nanton. Without fail, you’d say to me every time, ‘This place smells just like Grandma’s.’ Oh, Mom, how I wish I could hear you say those words one more time. Cara closed her eyes and gingerly squeezed her Mom’s hand.

You sure did love Bill’s Drive Inn, for your favourite maple walnut ice cream. One big scoop balanced inside a waffle cone. I miss how your eyes always looked at me so lovingly when I would wipe the dripping ice cream from your chin.

Inhale…exhale.

We’ve shared so much life together, Mom, and I want you to know how much I love you and how lucky I feel that you were my mom. I’ve never shared this with you, but the greatest gift you ever gave me was knowing I could always count on you.

A momentary smile broke out on Cara’s face as she recalled a memory from university. Like when I was dating Jay, Mom, and had planned to stay overnight with him for the first time. This story, I’ve shared so many times with friends because it was just so sweet how you took it upon yourself to sneak out late that night to make fresh footprints in the snow, so when Dad headed to work, it would look like I had left early that morning for school. You were always there for me, Mom. If I needed you, you showed up. If I was worried about anything, you talked me through it. If I needed someone to listen, you made yourself available. You made me feel that I was important to you. You made me feel safe and loved. You always had my back, especially with you-know-who.

Inhale…exhale.

Cara had watched for years as the unforgiving claws of Alzheimer’s slowly embedded into her mom’s brain. Day after day, it stole memory after memory until just a shell of her mom was left.

I’m forty-four, Mom, and I’m so scared of ending up alone.

Inhale…

Oh God, no, not yet! Cara clasped her mom’s hand tightly to her chest. I’m not ready, Mom!

Vice grips tightened on Cara’s heart to the beat of each stuttered breath she gulped, as she fought to control her emotions. She found a smidgeon of peace knowing her mom was no longer in the debilitating hold of Alzheimer’s, but it wasn’t enough to outweigh what had been taken away from her for the second and final time.

It was the sound of the train whistle outside that caused Cara to open her eyes and release the strangling grip she had on her mom’s hand. Beyond the window, a predawn grey was turning to a clear blue, brightening the room. From as early on as Cara could remember, she had always loved the sound of a train. The whistle blew once again, letting her know it was drawing near. The screech of the metal wheels against the metal rails grew louder and louder the closer it got. That sound always gave Cara a comforting feeling, a feeling of home.

Tap, tap, tap…

Cara rose from her chair and walked toward the widow as a shimmering blue dragonfly bounced outside the windowpane. Its translucent wings, outlined in black, fluttered in the rising sun’s rays. Mesmerized and feeling a sense of oneness, Cara placed her hand against the glass only to watch as the dragonfly flew away, disappearing into the new day.

Goodbye, Mom.

Chapter 2

Lila

It feels surreal being back home, Lila. Thank you for being here with me.

"What are best friends for? I can’t believe none of your brothers flew back. Damien still lives in town, doesn’t he?

He does, but he doesn’t even know I’m back.

What? You’re spreading your parents’ ashes. Shouldn’t he be here?

The thought of having Damien anywhere near her made her skin crawl. It would have been nice if her other brothers could have made the trip, but nope, just like when their youngest brother, died from heart failure at only thirty-one, not one of her three brothers living in the same city as him took care of the arrangements. Cara was the one who jumped on a plane, coordinated the funeral, set up the cremation, and took care of all the paperwork.

I picked out a song, Lila, called ‘Dancing in the Sky,’ to play while I spread my mom’s and dad’s ashes. Since they both loved to dance with one another, I thought it fitting for today. Would you mind holding my phone while it plays?

You bet I will! I know this song. It’s perfect, Cara.

Cara’s cheeks were the only part of her exposed to the crisp November morning. She was thankful for her forethought to have thrown a scarf into her luggage at the last minute. Even though the frost was building on the scarf from the plumes of her breath, and it was a bit scratchy under her chin, the feeling it provided of an extra hug on such a dreary day outweighed any discomfort. Leaves crackled under frozen dew as she and Lila walked among the hundreds of trees her parents had painstakingly planted over the years on the small piece of land they owned, only thirty minutes from their family home in Thunder Bay, Ontario.

When was the last time you were here?

I’d have to think about that, Lila. The trees were only up to my waist then.

Those trees are like thirty feet now!

I used to run through them when I was little with my five older brothers playing tag and hide-and-seek. We would roast marshmallows over that old firepit, and see the hill. That’s where we would toboggan. It seemed so much steeper back then. Some childhood memories had been great…Cara shook her head briskly to rid herself of the ones that weren’t.

Why did you choose to do it here?

My parents used to call this place their little piece of heaven. Their final wish for when both of them had passed, was to have their ashes mixed and spread on their land. I promised I would do it, and here we are. So glad you’re here with me, Lila. Thank you for always being such an amazing friend.

Of course, you’d do the same for me.

You know I would. Cara’s brow furrowed as she fumbled with the lid, trying to unscrew it. Damn it; my fingers are so cold.

Can I help?

Thank you, Lila, but I’ll get it. After a few more attempts, the lid finally gave way. Wanting to delay the inevitable, Cara took a few extra moments to ponder her next move. She ran her index finger around the metal rim a few times, goosebumps instantly rising beneath her clothes. It was now or never. Cara forced her hand into the canister, grabbing the first handful. Flour came to mind, cool to the touch, only grittier, heavier. The funeral director’s unemotional voice was next to pop into her thoughts: Careful not to breathe in the ashes. There are bone fragments, and they won’t dissolve well if you do. What is it people say, Lila, ashes to ashes, dust to dust? Or is it, for dust you are, and to dust you will return?

I think anything you say will be perfectly fine.

Her parents’ Adirondack chairs seemed the right place to start, as Cara remembered her parents in those chairs drinking coffee freshly made over the campfire her dad had lit every time with only one match. With her hand no longer protected from the elements, Cara spread her fingers, letting her mom and dad glide across and settle on the faded flecks of old red paint and wet wood. The ash-coated chairs now looked more like side-by-side tombstones in an overgrown gravesite. Moving among the pine trees, spreading some of their ashes here and there, Cara slowly made her way toward the weather-rusted school bus. The story her mom had told her was that her dad had bought it secondhand through his teaching connections with the Catholic school board and then modified it by removing almost all the bench seats so their family of eight would have a place to sleep during their weekend campouts. It sat much lower to the ground now, tires flat, a quarter of the rims embedded in the soil from all the years it had sat there. Hearing the music helped push her forward with the repetitive motion of flinging out the ashes. With a final slap to the bottom of the urn, the last of her parents’ remains dislodged, the wind finishing the job. Tilting her head upward, Cara softly whispered, Goodbye Mom and Dad I hope the two of you are dancing together in heaven.

Lila wrapped her arm around Cara’s shoulders. How are you holding up, my friend?

I’m okay, just ready to go now.

As they made their way back to the car, Cara’s nose crinkled at the musky, sweet smell emanating from the rotting leaves mushing together under her feet.

Every time I’m back on this stretch of road, Lila, I forget how beautiful the drive is.

It is, isn’t it? The sun shining down on the Kaministiquia River is beautiful at this time of day. Lila turned her head back toward Cara, How long has it been now since we’ve known each other, Cara?"

Gee, I think like twenty-seven, maybe twenty-eight years?

We’re getting old!

It seems like yesterday when we met working in the video department at Sears.

You were still in high school.

I was enamoured with you back then, Lila.

Enamoured with me? Why?

You were three years older; you owned a car, smoked cigarettes, and went dancing at the Landmark on weekends. When I hung out with you, I got to colour outside the lines.

We sure did have some fun back then, didn’t we? I’m not that same gal anymore, Cara. The wildness has quieted, and I’m in bed by nine now. Breaking out her beautiful warm smile.

Cara giggled. Your bedtime might have changed, but you’re still the same loving Lila I’ve always known.

You’re too kind, Cara. Hey, I’ve been holding off telling you something because I wanted to wait until you got through everything with your folks. I think now’s the time to share my great news with you and I’m pretty sure it’s going to brighten your spirits.

Don’t keep me waiting.

You aren’t going to believe it, but I’m getting transferred to Calgary.

Oh my God, Lila, you just made my year!

When the head-hunter came a-knocking, the offer was just too good to pass up. She winked at Cara. It also didn’t hurt that my closest friend lives there.

This is truly the best news, and trust me, it couldn’t have come at a better time.

There’s nothing here for me anymore now that Robert’s gone.

"His funeral was the last time I was back home, Lila. That was almost three years ago. Does it get easier with time?

Time helps, but I don’t think I’ll ever get over losing him. His heart attack blind-sided me. I always thought he would go before me because of our ten-year age difference, but I never thought I would lose him as early as I did. He was my everything, my ride or die.

Cara reached over and placed her hand on Lila’s squeezing it. You and Robert were like me and my mom. We both had a very special bond.

Lila sat back and held her hand to her chest. Her breaths became quick as she struggled to get air into her lungs.

Are you okay? I’m so sorry for talking about Robert.

Lila knew it wasn’t thoughts of Robert that had her chest feeling like it was about to explode.

Do you need me to pull over?

I’ll be okay. Not believing her own words. I just need a few moments to catch my breath.

As they entered the city limits, Cara was the first to speak. Are you feeling any better? You frightened me.

"I frightened myself. That’s never happened