“So what have you two been up to?” Blaise asked, as she sprawled on the couch next to her daughter. The two young women were like Siamese twins, always together, inseparable at all times.
“I was trying to teach Abby to sing scales.” Salima laughed at her. Abby was plain looking but had a sweet face and was wearing jeans and a white fisherman sweater Blaise had brought her back from Ireland. And Salima was wearing the designer jeans and a pink sweater her mother had recently sent her. They both looked like kids, far younger than either of them were. Salima looked about fifteen, and Abby scarcely older. “She’s hopeless,” Salima added about her caretaker’s singing skills. “She can’t carry a tune to save her life. She can’t even sing scales. I played some of the music for her that we’ve been studying at school, Renaissance music, and she hates it.” Salima had sung in the school choir all through high school. And in a local church choir on Sunday.
“That music is so depressing,” Abby said with a wry smile, looking apologetic.
“I think so too,” Blaise admitted. “Can’t you study something more cheerful? Christmas carols maybe? Then we could all sing along, or at least I could. I don’t know where your musical gift came from, but it sure isn’t from me,” Blaise said with a grin.
“I’m going to take Gregorian chants next semester,” she said, enjoying torturing both of them. She had been gifted with an exquisite voice. And she leaped at every chance to sing. She had the best voice in the entire school, and the purest. She could hit the high notes every time.
“I’m moving out if you start chanting,” Abby threatened, trying to sound menacing, but convinced no one.
“No, you won’t. I’m the only one who knows how to braid your hair. You’ll look a mess if you move out,” Salima warned, and they all laughed. Salima managed extremely well, especially on familiar turf. And she knew every inch of Caldwell and the grounds like the back of her hand. She was even able to get from one building to another sometimes without Abby, although Abby usually went with her. Salima particularly hated using a white cane and wouldn’t use one. She just relied on Abby. And she had refused to have a seeing-eye dog ever since she’d gone blind. She hated dogs and didn’t want one. Abby met all her needs to perfection. And in the cottage, Salima almost appeared sighted, she knew the placement of everything so well.
“Do you want to go out for brunch?” Blaise offered, but Salima usually didn’t. She was happiest on the familiar school grounds, except for her classes at college, where she had no choice. It was why she had decided not to go to Dartmouth, despite her excellent grades. She thought it would be too hard to get around, and Abby couldn’t go with her. And Salima couldn’t manage without her. She was totally dependent on her, which was both good and bad. Blaise was well aware that if Abby ever left for any reason, Salima would be lost without her.
“Abby promised to make her special waffles,” Salima said, looking like a child again.
“It would be fun to eat at Peterson’s,” Blaise suggested. She always thought it would do her good to get out, but Salima seemed to have no need or desire to venture into the world. She was happy in her cottage.
“I’d rather eat here,” Salima said bluntly. She lived in a cocoon that Blaise had provided for her, and Abby was happy in it with her. She was a local girl who had never ventured far from home. She had gone to New York for the first time with Salima, and looked terrified the whole time she was there when they came home for school vacations. It was Salima who had reassured her. Abby was used to it now, but it had taken several years. And while Salima was at home, they rarely left the apartment. They watched movies on Blaise’s big movie screen, which Salima could listen to and follow, with tapes recorded by a “movie describer” to describe the action for the vision impaired. Salima loved movies. They ordered meals from restaurants to be delivered to the apartment. Blaise always had a tough time getting them out, even here. But Abby took exquisite care of her. She monitored her blood counts and checked her pump scrupulously, and did everything for Salima. And Salima looked immaculate, beautifully groomed, and perfectly put together. The only thing Abby couldn’t do was braids, and sing, and Salima teased her mercilessly about both.
Abby went out to the kitchen a few minutes later, set the table, and served them freshly made waffles.