“Mom?” She knew her step anywhere, and always recognized it the moment Blaise walked in. “Mom!” she said then, sure of it, and dashed across the living room to the hall, as Blaise smiled widely at her and held out her arms, knowing Salima would be in them in seconds.
“I missed you too much. I had to come up today,” Blaise said, as Salima threw herself into her mother’s arms and nearly knocked her down, and then spun her around. Abby watched them with a warm smile, and Blaise waved at her with a free hand. Salima looked as beautiful as ever, with features identical to her mother’s, down to the cleft chin. The only difference was her dark brown hair, which she wore long. She turned her face toward her mother’s, and felt her face. She felt the tears Blaise always shed when she first saw her. “You’re crying! Have I gotten uglier since last time?” Salima teased.
“Totally. It makes me cry just looking at you,” Blaise said with a smile.
“Then I’m glad I don’t have to see it,” Salima said, joking with her, as they walked into the living room together, with Blaise’s arm around her waist as Salima leaned close to her, and then flopped down on the couch. She knew exactly where things were. Everything in the cottage was familiar to her, and she had no trouble getting around. She was blind.
She had been diagnosed with type 1 diabetes when she was three years old, which had been the heartbreak of Blaise’s life. Her perfect baby had a severe case of juvenile diabetes, which could only be treated with insulin. And at first Salima had cried at every shot, and prick of her finger to check her insulin levels. They had eventually gotten her a pump, but she still had to be closely monitored. The pump kept her insulin levels at safe ranges for her, delivering the insulin over twenty-four hours through a catheter under the skin. And they clipped the pump itself to the waistband of her skirt or jeans. It had always worked well for her.
Her eyes had been affected by the time she was six, which they had been told was unusually early. She was too young to lose her sight, the doctors had assured Harry and Blaise. When she was seven, she could still see partially, when her retinas detached, and by eight she was fully blind. They had tried to keep her at home, but Harry lived in Los Angeles, and Blaise traveled all the time. She didn’t trust the caretakers they had with her, she was never sure they were monitoring her properly. And Blaise had had to face the decision of giving up her career to take care of Salima full time, or place her in a school for the blind where they were better equipped to supervise her, monitor her medically, and keep her safe. Her diabetes had to be carefully managed. There was a full medical staff at her school. And they had decided to try it for six months. Salima had loved it from the moment she got there and felt at home with other children like her. She didn’t feel different anymore, she had friends to play with all the time, and Blaise could relax, knowing that she was impeccably cared for.
Blaise had continued working, and at the end of six months, it was clear that Caldwell was better for Salima, so much so that eleven years later, she had made the decision to stay on after graduation. She couldn’t imagine living anywhere else anymore. Sometimes Blaise felt guilty knowing what a secluded life she led, and wondering if she needed more, but Salima was so happy here that Blaise didn’t have the heart to bring her back to live in New York, with all the risks it presented for her. And Abby wouldn’t have come with her. She had a mother who had been in poor health for years, and she wanted to stay nearby. So Salima had stayed on, and Abby went to the community college with her every day. Blaise had given her a car, and Salima was free to come and go. She had resident status now, and was no longer subject to all the rules that applied to the younger children there. And most of the teachers were her friends, but Abby was more like an older sister to her, or a mother. Thinking that always hurt Blaise a little, but Abby was so much better for her, and did everything Salima needed, at all times. Blaise knew only too well that she couldn’t have done it, even if she didn’t work. The responsibility of handling Salima’s illness on her own had always made her anxious and frightened her.