Susan Mallery - Straight From The Hip

Izzy did as he requested. She’d had her eyes dilated, stared into what felt like the sun, had her eyes numbed, filled with drops, stained and now stared at.

“You’re holding your own,” he said as he straightened. “That’s a positive sign. Sometimes there’s deterioration. Your best option is still the surgery. There’s a better than ninety percent chance your sight will be restored to normal.”

Her stomach lurched. “But a ten percent chance I’ll be permanently blind.”

“I’ve never had it happen, but, yes, that’s a possibility. Izzy, if it would make you feel better, we can do one eye at a time. See how it goes.”

She shook her head. “If it went badly, I’d never do the other eye. It’s all or nothing.”

“That works for me. After the surgery, you’ll be in bandages for a week, then we take them off and witness the miracle.”

“You’re optimistic,” she grumbled.

“I’m a surgeon-it’s one part confidence, two parts ego. I need a couple of days to schedule it. I’m off next week on vacation but anytime after that.”

“Okay,” she said, oddly grateful that she couldn’t do it today, even if she wanted to. There was time. Time to think, time to assess the risk. “If the surgery fails, there’s no going back, right?”

Dr. Greenspoon hesitated. “There are always innovations,” he began.

“But I’d be dependent on a miracle.”

“Yes.”

She stood. “Okay, thanks for seeing me.”

He rose and squeezed her arm. “You’re a beautiful young woman. You have an excellent chance of fully restored sight. I know you’re afraid, but I do think your best option is to take a chance on the surgery.”

“I know.” Everyone was so free with advice. Of course no one else had to live with the consequences if things went wrong. “I’ll call the office when you get back and let you know what I’ve decided.”

“Take care, Izzy.”

Aaron was sitting in the waiting room when she walked up front. “And?” he asked.

“Nothing’s changed. I can have the surgery anytime after next week. There’s a good chance my sight would go back to normal.”

“So what are you waiting for? Why not go for it?”

“Because the alternative is being permanently blind forever. I can’t handle that.”

“You can handle anything.” Aaron put his arm around her. “You’re full of attitude. You’d manage. Look at Rita.”

“Rita’s a better person than I am.”

“It’s not about being a good person. It’s about not giving up. I would have thought you were the kind to move forward, no matter what.”

They walked outside. The sun was bright, but Izzy didn’t have to squint or put on sunglasses. It barely bothered her at all. What would it be like to be normal again? Was that possible? And if it wasn’t, could she live with the darkness?

“You face scary stuff all the time,” Aaron continued. “Didn’t you tell me you went swimming with sharks?”

“That’s different.”

“How?”

“I got to pick the time and place. It didn’t just happen. And the consequences weren’t nearly this scary.”

“You mean losing an arm or a head is less frightening than being blind?”

“Something like that.”

“You’re a very weird person. You know that, don’t you?”

“So I’ve been told.”

IZZY COULDN’T SLEEP. No matter how many times she stretched out on her bed, she couldn’t relax. She got desperate enough to turn out the lights, but the total blackness wasn’t comfortable, either, so she clicked them back on.

Possible scenarios flashed through her mind. What would happen if she had the surgery and couldn’t see? How would she survive? She knew that taking the chance would ease things with her sisters and maybe with herself. She wouldn’t have held back out of fear anymore, which was great for family relations but left her with a much bigger problem.

There were services, she told herself. Places where she could go to learn Braille and other skills. People had satisfying lives while still dealing with all kinds of handicaps. Maybe she could go to college and get a degree in something. Probably nothing in the fine arts department or, say, nursing, but something. She would get an apartment, maybe a guide dog. She would go shopping with Lexi and be a stylishly dressed blind person. Not that she’d ever been especially stylish before, but a girl could dream.

She stood and crossed to the window. As it was probably close to midnight, she couldn’t see anything, but she could pretend.

Of course if the surgery were a success, she would have her life back. She would be able to see and then do anything she wanted. Which posed nearly as big a question. What did she want? Her old life of thrill-seeking had lost a little of its charm. So then what? Did she still go to college and try to find something useful to do? And if she planned to live on her own and go to college either way, then did having the surgery really make that much difference?

To test her theory, she turned out the lights again. The instant darkness made her throat tighten. Terror flooded her, making her want to throw up. She was a kid again, trapped under the stairs, screaming and screaming, only no one heard. No one bothered looking for her. No one let her out.

The walls closed in. She couldn’t breathe. There was only the fear and the knowledge that she was completely alone.

Sucking in a breath, she flipped on the lights and leaned against the wall as she tried to calm down. So much for a restful night’s sleep.

She left her room and made her way downstairs. Maybe if she walked around outside, she’d be able to relax.

Halfway across the living room, she heard an odd sound. It was almost a yell. She paused and frowned, trying to get her bearings in the house. If the living room was in front of her and the kitchen to her right, then behind her was the hallway that led to Nick’s office and his bedroom. She turned in that direction, listening.

The sound came again. Muffled, but definitely human. Was it Nick? Was he in trouble?

Her first thought was that he could more than take care of himself. Her second was that she had to make sure. It was a compulsion, or maybe just a female thing.

She walked down the hall, feeling her way along the walls. She passed the door to what she knew was his study, then saw light spilling out from the end of the hall.

She pushed open that door and stepped into what seemed like a bedroom. She could make out a bed and several large pieces of furniture against the walls. There was a fireplace and drapes pulled shut over large windows. But what stopped her was light.

It glowed everywhere. There were lamps on night-stands, an overhead light, floor lamps in the corners. It was as bright as midday.

There was another sound from the bed, but whatever worry Izzy had brought into the room quickly dissipated. She crossed to the bed and shook Nick by the shoulder.

“What do you think you’re doing?” she said to him, not sure if he was awake or not but figuring he would be soon. “All that stupid Zen talk you’re giving me. Telling me to get used to the dark. That I have to deal. And Rita with her one-scary-cave-at-a-time bull. Does she know about this? Those who can do and those who can’t teach? You expect me to risk the little sight I have left, but you sleep with the lights on?”

Nick came awake at Izzy’s first touch. He sat up as her words poured out, still caught up in the nightmare, not sure what was real and what wasn’t.

She was beyond pissed. She glared at him as if she wished her eyes were laser beams that could burn him to dust.

“Don’t think you can make this right with me.” Her voice rose. “What’s going on? Just tell me that. What’s going on?”

He saw movement out in the hall and watched as Aaron stepped into the room, saw Izzy and quickly left. Nick wished he could escape so easily, but that wasn’t going to happen.

“Stop yelling,” he told her.

“You’re really getting on my nerves.”

“I got that.”

He stood and crossed to the door, carefully closing it before he faced her.

She wore a long T-shirt that came to midthigh. She probably had on panties underneath, but he didn’t want to think about that or her body or how good she looked glaring at him.

“You have issues,” she said, practically frothing with rage. “You have your own damn issues, but, hey, go ahead and tell me what to do with my life.”

He didn’t know what to say. The truth? Was that possible? There was a part of him that didn’t want her to know. Maybe because it made him feel damaged. Maybe because if he told her part of it, he would have to tell her all of it and he wouldn’t sound very good.

The mistake had been his, but Garth had shared in the punishment. It was only one more thing to feel guilty about.

“You have to say something,” she told him. “Just say that you fell asleep with the lights on. I might even believe you.”

He crossed to her and pulled off his T-shirt. Then he picked up her hand and placed it on his chest, over one of the thicker scars.

“I sleep with the lights on,” he said quietly. “You’re right. I have issues. A few years ago I was working in South America. A friend and I were captured and held prisoner. We were blindfolded and tortured. They kept us chained, in the open, exposed to the elements. But that wasn’t the worst of it. It wasn’t the bugs or the rain or the snakes, either. It was the knives. They came without warning. There would be nothing, then the feel of a knife slicing through flesh and the only sound was my screams.”

IZZY SANK DOWN on the bed and clutched her stomach. She felt seconds away from throwing up. “I should have stayed in my room,” she murmured.

Nick sank down next to her and put his hand on her back. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”