Susan Mallery - Straight From The Hip

She thought about the facilities already in place. Couldn’t Nick host kids all summer and save the corporate stuff for the rest of the year? Maybe have families visit on weekends, but during the week, kids only? It could work. He would need a full-time staff of psychologists and maybe a couple of nurses, but that was all doable. If it was a summer program, they could hire school psychologists who were experienced with kids and still had the time off.

“Oh, look, Izzy,” Heidi whispered. “Look.”

“I can’t,” she whispered back.

“There’s a deer. She’s so beautiful. I’ve never seen a deer, except at the zoo. She’s real and everything. Look how she walks. She’s eating.” Heidi’s voice rose. “She’s eating and, oh, look.”

Izzy glanced around at the blurry world and waited until the deer had moved on. Heidi urged Flower forward.

“That was so cool,” the girl said, sounding excited. “I love riding. Can we go every day I’m here?”

“Of course. Flower would like that.”

“I’m going to call my mom tonight and tell her I want to take lessons. I don’t care if people stare. It’s too much fun. I can’t hide in my room forever, right?”

“Right.” Izzy felt all bright and light inside, like she could float away on a bubble of happiness. “By the way, have you ever been rock climbing?”

“No.”

“We’ll have to try that when we get back.”

“Is it fun?”

“I think you’re going to love it.”

MONDAY CAME TOO QUICKLY, Izzy thought as she hugged Heidi goodbye.

“You’ll call me?” the girl asked, tears thickening her voice.

“I’m going to have to. It’s not like I can do e-mail.”

Heidi hugged her again. “You’re the best. I had such a good time. Thanks for everything.”

“You’re welcome.” Izzy let go and straightened. She fought the burning in her eyes. There was no way she was going to cry. At least not in front of Heidi.

The girl climbed in the SUV and closed the door. Izzy waved and had no idea if Heidi was waving back. When the SUV pulled away, she turned and practically ran into Nick.

He caught her and held her in front of him. “You okay?”

“Yes. Just a little choked up. I didn’t know it would be like this. She’s amazing and tough and still sees the wonder in things. After what happened to her, how is that possible?”

“She’s strong. You were good with her. I saw you two together.”

“I hope I helped. I loved hanging out with her.” She hesitated. “Whatever you went through, whatever you did, if it brought you here, then it’s not as bad as you think. This is worth it, Nick. This is magic. You’re helping children in a profound way. You’re making them believe in themselves. It’s amazing. Don’t believe me. Ask their parents.”

“None of this makes up for what I did.”

“Maybe not, but did it ever occur to you that you had to make that mistake to get here? To make this kind of a difference? How many others are there like Heidi? How many others will you help?”

“Not enough.”

He was so stubborn. “You won’t be able to reach them all, but each child is a chance. Why can’t you see the good you do?”

“This isn’t about me. It’s about them.”

“Maybe it’s about all of us.” She touched his arm. “I want to have the surgery.”

He didn’t say anything.

She shrugged. “It’s time. I get it. After spending the weekend with Heidi, how can I still be afraid?”

He touched her face with his fingertips, then pulled her close.

“Will you take me?” she asked, her words muffled against his shoulder. “I don’t want my sisters to know until after the surgery. I don’t want them to worry.”

“Yes.”

She waited. “That’s it? No ‘I told you so’ or ‘You should have done this weeks ago’?”

“No.”

“Can I stay here while I recover?”

He kissed her. His mouth was warm and sexy and tempting. “If you tried to leave, I’d drag you back.”

“Promise?”

“Yes.”

THE WORLD WAS TOTALLY BLACK. There wasn’t a hint of light. Not a flicker or a shadow. The world was black and still and filled with terror.

Izzy told herself to breathe slowly. To focus. It had only been a day since her surgery. A single day. She had to survive a week. Which was seven days. And how many hours? She tried to do the math, then bumped into a table in the hallway and wanted to scream. Who was stupid enough to put tables in hallways? Didn’t everyone know she couldn’t see?

Except that table had been there since she first arrived at Nick’s ranch and she’d learned all the rooms so she could walk through them easily. She knew about the table, just like she knew about the stairs and the doors and the walls.

Only it was different now. There was only darkness. She hadn’t realized how much she’d depended on her faulty vision to help her figure out where she was and where she was going. She was going to have to relearn everything.

“I have a week,” she said aloud, only to hear someone’s footsteps.

“I’m pretty sure talking to yourself isn’t good,” Aaron said, as cheerful as ever. “And don’t take this wrong, but a bandage wrapped around your head, covering your eyes? Not your best look.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“Honesty keeps us friends. I, for one, am wildly excited about you getting the surgery. Next week, when you can see, I want to have a serious conversation about my hair. I was thinking highlights. Steve gets them and I’m really tempted, but I wanted a second opinion.”

Aaron casually took her arm. “It’s nearly lunchtime. Do you remember the way?”

“Maybe,” she said, grateful for the help. “I thought I’d already figured out the house. I guess I was wrong.”

“You’ve only been back a couple of hours. Give it time.”

“Thanks.”

After her surgery, she’d spent the night at the hospital. Nick had checked on her frequently, then had brought her home this morning.

“Norma has made a special lunch of your favorites. BLT sandwiches with pudding.” She felt him shudder. “Banana pudding.”

She laughed. “What’s wrong with that?”

“Everything. Can’t you at least want a delicate sorbet or a nice chocolate-dipped strawberry?”

“I could go for the strawberry.”

“Be sure to tell her.”

“I will. Besides, I’m sure there’s more for lunch than just sandwiches.”

“Probably, but I would like to point out that she’s never gone to this much trouble for me and I rave about her biscuits. I feel so unappreciated. Now there’s a step, then another step.”

She reached out to feel the doorway to the dining room, then couldn’t remember how far to the table. The darkness was complete. What if this was how she had to live forever? What if there wasn’t anything beyond touch and sound?

The panic swirled again, but she forced herself to keep breathing. Regular breathing and a prescription for Xanax if the anxiety got too bad, although Izzy was determined to tough it out. Dr. Greenspoon was the best. She trusted him. He’d done a good job and had been pleased with the outcome of the surgery.

“What are you thinking?” Aaron asked.

“That I’m strong and I’ll work through this.”

“It’s a week, Izzy. I’m supposed to be the drama queen in the relationship.”

“I meant if the surgery went bad.”

He patted her arm. “It didn’t. Nick told me. The doctor thinks you’ll have your sight restored.”

“But he’s not sure. He can’t be sure until the bandages come off.”

“No, he can’t. And aren’t you a little ray of sunshine? Here’s the chair. Can you feel it?”

She reached out and felt the familiar curve of the back of the chair, then managed to sit down. Norma bustled in seconds later.

“I made the BLTs,” she said briskly. “And a few different salads. Oh, and the banana pudding.”

Aaron groaned.

Izzy grinned. “Thanks, Norma. You really didn’t have to.”

“I know,” the other woman said. “Now where’s Nick? He knows how I feel about serving meals on time.”

“I’m right here.”

Izzy turned toward the sound of his voice. Normally she could see the shape of him but now there was nothing.

“How are you holding up?” he asked, lightly touching her shoulder.

“Fine.”

“I caught her talking to herself,” Aaron said. “That’s never good.”

“At least I know the conversation is going to be interesting,” she said.

“I’m ignoring that,” Aaron said.

She heard the sound of a chair being pulled out, then liquid being poured into glasses.

“What can I get you?” Aaron asked. “Because I live to serve.”

“Maybe half a sandwich to start.” She could hold it in her hand and keep track of it. That sounded better than chasing something around her plate.

“Don’t think you’re getting out of eating that damned pudding,” he murmured in her ear. “Iced tea is on your right.”

She reached in that direction but encountered warm fingers rather than cool glass.

“Here,” Nick said, guiding her. He helped her find her drink.

The meal seemed to go on for hours. Izzy managed to eat part of her sandwich, but kept having trouble with her tea. Aaron and Nick talked, which should have been a nice distraction. Instead she kept thinking that they were watching her, not sure if they should help or not. She felt awkward and confused and afraid of spilling or dropping or missing her mouth and jamming her sandwich into her cheek.

“Maybe I could get a tray in my room from now on,” she said abruptly.

“If she gets room service, I want it, too,” Aaron said in a whine.

Despite the tension filling her, she smiled. “You act like you’re two.”

“So? What are you?”

She managed a laugh. “Point taken.”

“It’s okay, Izzy,” Nick told her. “It’s your first day. You’ll get used to it.”

“I don’t want to get used to it,” she snapped, her good humor fading. She stood, then realized she had no idea which direction to turn. Dread swept through her, making her sorry she’d eaten anything. She was trapped.