Salima knew all about her mother’s romance with Andrew, and how it had turned out and why. She had met him and liked him, and he had made an effort with her, but she didn’t like how it had ended, or how dishonest he had been with her mother. Salima had been fourteen at the time, and her mother’s voice had sounded so sad afterward, for months, maybe a year. It made Salima’s heart ache to hear her. Salima herself had had a couple of romances at the school, but all the boys there were too young for her now, and she hadn’t met anyone at college. She was always with Abby, and they came and went for her classes and never stuck around. And Salima was shy. With sighted people, she was self-conscious about being blind. And the only sighted people she knew were teachers, not kids. It was the downside of living at a school for the blind. She had no idea how to behave around people who could see. All her peers were blind, and had been for the past eleven years, since she was eight years old. But Blaise was still convinced that she was better off here. But as the years went by, Salima was less and less familiar with the outside world. New York would have been a jungle for her now, and far more dangerous than Blaise was willing to deal with. At Caldwell, Blaise knew she was safe. And Salima never asked to come home. She only did so when she had no other choice, when school was closed for vacations.
It took some doing, but Blaise finally convinced her to go for a walk. She described the trees to her, turning orange and scarlet, and Salima tucked her hand into her mother’s arm as they walked, while Abby walked right behind them and said nothing. She was there if they needed her, but she didn’t want to intrude. She was always very discreet, and Blaise liked her nearby. She was never alone with her daughter, and preferred it that way. She didn’t feel competent to meet Salima’s needs if something unexpected happened, and she knew Abby could. All Blaise could do, as far as she was concerned, was tell her stories of her work and travels and make her laugh. They always had fun together, which was something, but Salima needed so much more than that.
Abby made them hot tea when they got back to the cottage, and Blaise sat with them until late afternoon, when it started to get dark. And at six o’clock, with a tone of regret, she said she should leave. She had a long drive back to the city.
“Would you like a sandwich before you go?” Abby offered with her gentle smile.
“No, I’m fine. I should get on the road.” She hated to leave. She always did. “I’ll come back soon,” she said, as she hugged Salima, who clung to her mother for a minute, savoring the feel and smell of her. She always loved the scent of her perfume, and her shampoo. Sometimes she could smell her in a room. Salima’s senses other than her sight were acute, especially hearing and smell. “I’ll call you this week,” Blaise promised, vowing to herself that she would. She loved being with her, and hated how life got away from them, and interfered. Salima was the greatest gift of her life, no matter how infrequently she saw her.
“Thanks for coming up, Mom,” Salima said with a smile, as she walked her mother to the door. “It was fun. It always is when you’re here.” She thought her mother was exciting.
“I can’t wait till you come home for Thanksgiving,” Blaise said, and meant it. “I’ll get tickets to a Broadway musical. That would be fun,” and she knew Salima would love it. They tried to see a musical whenever Salima came to town.
“The opera would be nice too … or a concert. Beethoven, if there is one.” She looked excited at the prospect. The one way to spark her interest and get her out was always music.
“I’ll see what’s playing that weekend,” Blaise promised.
“Drive safely,” Salima admonished her as Blaise hugged her for a last time.
“I will.”
Salima waved and then closed the door, and as Blaise left, she could hear Salima put music on, and the two girls laughing again. They had a good time together, and as she walked to her car, Blaise felt strangely left out, and she realized how lucky Abby was. She had so much time with Salima, and Salima loved her so much. At times, Blaise wished that she had made different choices, but she knew that the choices she had made were right for both of them. Blaise needed her work, as part of who she was, and Salima was happy at the school. It was just the way things were. And as she got on the road and headed south, she wiped a stray tear from her cheek.
Chapter 4
THE WEEK AFTER Blaise’s visit to Salima was typical of life at the network. She planned her show, covered a variety of stories, did several editorials, and was working on two specials, when she heard a rumor, and at first wondered if it was true. It was the kind of thing one heard frequently, that someone was being hired or fired, or shifted around, that management was making changes, and often it was only gossip. She had learned over the years not to panic or react too quickly. The network was a rumor mill.
The first she heard of it was from Charlie, who told her simply that there was a new girl in town. She had been brought in from an affiliate in Miami, she had been a model before that, and he said she was a knockout, and twenty-nine years old. And the next day Blaise heard it from Mark. The new girl was going to be doing weekend news for a while, which was where new faces often started, to try them out. And when Blaise was introduced to her at a meeting, she was as beautiful as Charlie had said. She was a tall, statuesque blonde, with astounding breast implants and a tiny waist, and she had a lovely face. And Blaise thought she seemed enthusiastic and smart. Susie Quentin had gone to Brown and had a master’s in journalism from Columbia.