True Love (24 page)

She didn’t add that it had been done as a cruel joke. As the boy had pulled it out, he’d turned to his buddies and said, “Freak alert.” They’d all laughed and she’d felt humiliated.

“Okay, so I might not have offered if I wasn’t trying to show off,” Kyle admitted.

“I’m glad you’ve learned some things to help you take care of yourself. Nobody likes to feel useless.”

“I guess you would understand.”

“What do you mean?” She caught her breath. Had someone told him what she looked like?

“Your broken leg. I guess people are always rushing to help when you want to learn to do things for yourself.”

She let out her breath slowly. “That’s right. I’ve had to knock people over with my crutches in order to get them to let me do things for myself.”

His brow furrowed, then he grinned. “You’re joking.”

“Must not have been much of one.”

“It’s just that it takes me longer to catch on to things because I can’t see people’s faces and read their expressions.”

“I didn’t think of that.”

“This being blind is hard stuff. My doctors are saying that if the chemicals that burned my eyes were acids, then I have a good chance of recovering my sight. But if they were alkaline, I may never get it back.”

“Don’t you know what chemicals you used to make the fuel?”

“I’ve been trying to remember, but my friends and I were mixing lots of stuff that afternoon.” He shook his head. “All I know is that I want to see again. I have to, Carley. I just
have
to.”

She heard passion in his voice. She, too, had felt that same kind of longing. She craved to have a normal appearance, but no
amount of wishing for it could restore her looks. Beauty was for other girls. It couldn’t belong to Carley. “Well, until you can,” she said cheerfully, “at least you’ll know how to manage.”

Kyle leaned back in his chair, his palms flat against the table. She wondered if touching something made him feel grounded, more connected. “One of the worst parts is being bored,” he told her. “TV is a waste. I tried to listen to one of my favorite shows, but I couldn’t make sense of it.”

“I can see and I can’t make sense of most of them.”

He rewarded her attempt to lighten his mood with a smile. “I realized that a lot of the show’s humor depended on visual gags, on the actors’ expressions. Anyway, I had a hard time following, so I turned it off.”

She had a sudden inspiration. “You need to borrow some of my Books on Tape. You have a cassette player, don’t you?”

“Of course.”

“Then I’ll loan you some of my books.”

“What kind of books?” He sounded skeptical. “Not romances, I hope.”

“I have those, but I won’t force them on you. I also have mysteries, thrillers, fantasies—in fact, if you have any lit books you need to read for school, I could probably find a few of those titles too. Sort of like Cliffs Notes for the ears.”

He laughed. “How about chemistry and physics books?”

“Get a grip. I’m talking entertainment here, not instant tranquilizer.”

“You wouldn’t mind loaning me some of your tapes?”

“I offered, didn’t I? You’ll like them, and listening to them will take you right out of this place.”

“You can’t imagine just how much I’d like to be out of here.”

She recalled wishing the same thing when she was going through her facial operation. Once they told her that removing the malignant tumor would leave her face deformed, all she wanted to do was run away, escape. She said to Kyle, “Don’t you wish you had the power to turn back time? To go back to before your accident and start fresh and avoid the things that led up to it?”

“Yes,” he said, his voice barely a whisper. “I can’t believe how much you understand stuff, Carley. It’s as if you can read my mind.”

“It’s easier to understand something once you’ve experienced it.”

“You mean about your leg? Like you’d turn back the clock to before your accident and not do the same dumb stunt that led to breaking it?”

She was referring to her sense of loss over her looks, but of course he had no way of knowing about that. “Sure, I mean my leg. Who wants a broken leg with an infection in it?”

“And if I could start over with that rocket fuel, I would do things differently. I’d at least have put on safety glasses.”

“Why don’t you leave rocket-fuel concocting to NASA?”

“I will from now on.”

She gazed at him in open admiration. Kyle was tall, good-looking, easygoing and, more than likely, popular—just the type of boy she’d always sneak peeks at in the halls at school. Just the type of boy who’d never
notice her existence. Or worse, turn away in revulsion once he saw her face. But here, in the hospital, with his eyes bandaged, the scales of social acceptance were balanced. He couldn’t loathe what he couldn’t see. She could be at ease with what she couldn’t change.

“Carley? Are you okay?”

She started. She’d been so deep in her thoughts, she’d almost forgotten they’d been in the middle of a conversation. “Whoops—sorry. I guess I had a temporary brain freeze. My mind wandered.” She whistled, snapped her fingers, and called, “Here, mind, here, mind. Come back now.”

Kyle broke into hearty laughter. “You’re
so
funny. Most girls I know don’t crack jokes like you do. Give me your hand.”

“I’m still using it,” she kidded, but held her hand out toward him.

He reached, caught her palm, and laced his fingers through hers. “There, that’s better,” he said.

She stared in fascination at their entwined fingers. “How do you mean?”

“I wanted to touch you. Hold on to you. You don’t mind, do you?”

“No,” she said, hoping the word hadn’t tumbled out as fast as her heart had begun to beat. “I mean, it’s fine with me.”

“Can I ask you something personal?”

“How personal? My IQ is a closely guarded secret.”

“Do you have a boyfriend?”

Caught totally off guard, Carley was momentarily speechless. No one had ever asked her that question before.

“Um—not really.”

He grinned. “That’s good.”

She squirmed self-consciously before realizing that he couldn’t see her discomfort. “How about you?” she asked boldly, not sure she wanted to hear his answer. “Any special girl?”

He shook his head. “Basically I’m shy,” he said. “I can’t ever get up the courage to talk to girls. My tongue gets all tied in knots and I come off sounding like a jerk.”

She found his confession hard to believe. “You don’t seem shy to me. You talk to me.”

“You’re different.”

If only you knew how different
, she thought. She asked, “So, what makes me different?”

“I don’t know exactly. But when you wandered into my room and started talking to me, I knew you were different. You really understand what this is like for me … this … this being blind.”

“I know it’s got to be tough.”

“My doctors keep preparing me for being impaired. And so did the woman who worked with me this afternoon. Even if my sight comes back, it probably won’t ever be the same.”

Carley didn’t know what to tell him. She didn’t want him to think his situation was hopeless, but she didn’t want to ignore the seriousness of it either. “Well, don’t dwell on the downside. Just work hard at becoming self-sufficient. It’ll make waiting around for the outcome easier.”

He squeezed her hand. “You have a way of saying the right thing to me.” Suddenly he pushed back from the table. “What time is it?”

Carley glanced at the clock on the wall.
“Almost seven.” She was amazed at how the time had flown since they’d been together. “Why?”

“My parents are coming any minute now. I want you to meet them.”

Panic gripped her. She couldn’t let them see her. “Oh, I can’t.” She grabbed for her crutches.

“But why not? What else is there to do around this place?”

She thought fast. “Reba,” she said, struggling to her feet. “Remember, she’s got surgery tomorrow and I’ve got to go visit her and make sure she’s all right.”

He nodded in understanding.

Carley bolted for the door, moving as fast as she could on her crutches, afraid to glance down the hall toward the elevators in case Kyle’s parents might be headed her way. Afraid they might see the girl with the twisted face leaving their son’s room and ask questions about someone he thought was normal.

C
arley didn’t visit Reba because her friend’s room was crowded with relatives. So she marked time in the visitor’s lounge, keeping her head ducked so that her long brown hair would help conceal the left side of her face. When it was after nine o’clock, she cautiously returned to her room and quickly shut the door. She called Reba and said she’d be pulling for her during her surgery.

“You still friends with Kyle?” Reba asked. She’d been given medication to help her sleep and her voice sounded slurry.

“We talked for a couple of hours tonight.”

“That’s nice. Did you mention your face?”

“No way. I’m enjoying him thinking I’m a regular girl.”

“Someday he might see you.”

“Not if I can help it. Think about it. Once my infection clears up, I’ll go home and he’ll make friends with someone else. If he’s even still here.”

“So you won’t see him again when he’s out of the hospital?” Reba’s voice drifted.

“No,” Carley said. “I won’t see or talk to him again.” She paused, sensing that Reba was fading fast. “Go on to sleep,” she told her. “I’ll see you as soon as they put you back in your room.”

“ ‘Honesty is the best policy,’ ” Reba mumbled.

“What?”

“My … grandfather says … that …”

Carley sighed. “I’m changing the policy. Good night.”

She hung up and lay staring at the ceiling until the nurse came to hook her up for her evening dose of antibiotic. With her thoughts on Kyle, she drifted into a dreamless sleep long before the medicine was finished dripping.

———

The next morning Carley gave several of her Books on Tape to Kyle. “Can you stay?” he asked.

“I’m on my way to physical therapy.” She was feeling guilty. Maybe Reba was right. Maybe she should tell him everything.

“Can we talk more later?”

“I don’t want you to get sick of me.”

“It’s all right if I do. We’re in a hospital.”

The gauze pads concealing his eyes made it difficult to know if he was teasing. “It’s a good thing I have a sense of humor,” she offered cautiously.

He grinned. “I made a joke and you caught on to it. I’m getting better at this humor stuff, huh?”

“Don’t let it go to your head, buster.” She said goodbye and went out into the hall, where an orderly took her down in a wheelchair for her PT appointment.

Once her session was over, Carley returned to her floor and asked about Reba at the nurses’ station. “She came through with flying colors,” a nurse told her. “She’s down in Recovery, and we expect she’ll be sent up
here by late afternoon. But no visitors except family today.”

“No problem,” Carley said, feeling greatly relieved that Reba had done so well.

“By the way,” the nurse said, “your lunch tray’s been delivered to Kyle Westin’s room. He told us you knew all about it.”

She didn’t, but she faked it with the nurse and hobbled down the hall to Kyle’s room. He was sitting at the table, his tray in front of him. Another covered tray had been placed on the table facing an empty chair. “Are you eating your lunch and mine too?” she asked.

“Carley! Come sit. I thought we could have lunch together. I had to make the nurse think you had preapproved the idea. Do you mind?”

How could she mind eating lunch with a guy like Kyle? “Your company’s much better than that exercise lady on TV at noon.” She propped up her crutches and sat down. “What is this stuff?” she asked, lifting the lid. “It looks like roadkill.”

“It tastes all right. Soup’s good.”

She watched him encircle the soup bowl
with one hand, pick up the spoon, keeping it low, lean far over the warm bowl, and ladle soup into his mouth. She felt grateful all over again that she had her eyesight. “Not bad,” she told him.

“The soup or my table manners?” he asked.

“The way you maneuver,” she explained. “The soup’s dreary.”

He laughed. “I’ve been practicing hard at learning how to feed myself. Every meal, I spill less and less. You know I’m feeling brave if I got up the nerve to invite you to have lunch with me.”

“You seem to have a knack for it. Feeding yourself, I mean.”

“The therapist taught me to touch all the food first, position it on the tray so that I’d know exactly where everything was, and keep my hands low when I come at it. It works.”

Fascinated, she watched him for another minute. She’d been taught that it wasn’t polite to stare, and she hated it when people stared at her, but Kyle couldn’t see her
studying him, so she didn’t think she was being rude.

“I’m still not very fast at eating, though,” he apologized. “It’s made me realize how quickly I scarfed down my food before.”

“Don’t we all,” Carley said.

“So how’s Reba doing?”

“I hear she’s doing fine, but it’ll be another day before I check on her personally.”

“What’re you doing tomorrow?”