He put Salima’s voice-activated computer on the desk and plugged it in. She could give it voice commands, and a mechanical voice would respond and read her any material she wanted. Blaise had always gotten her the most up-to-date aids available to assist her, and was constantly searching for new ones. Salima used a software program called OpenBook, with a scanner that read her mail and textbooks to her. And she had something called Oratio that allowed her to use a BlackBerry. Everything Salima had was state of the art, thanks to her mother, and she knew it. And Simon also noticed that she had an excellent stereo in her room. She had all the most expensive devices and aids, and advanced technology, but she still couldn’t brush her teeth alone. And Simon wanted to change that as soon as he could, for her sake.
When he left her room, it was in good order. She was putting on some music, and she wanted to e-mail some of her friends from school to see how they were. She loved her mother, but she hated being home. And she was beginning to hate Simon even more. He didn’t understand anything.
He went back to his own room then, and put away his things, and then appeared unexpectedly in the door to Blaise’s office. She looked up in surprise. It was strange to see a man in her house. She always wondered now how she had lived with Harry, or thought she would marry Andrew and live with him. The idea no longer appealed to her at all, and the reality of Simon in her home even less. He felt like an intruder to her, and to Salima.
“Would you like a cup of tea?” Simon asked her, and she shook her head, wanting to tell him that he didn’t need to come to her office unless she called for him or there was a problem. No one had offered her a cup of tea in her own home in years. Not since she’d been married to Harry and they had help, more than ten years before. The housekeeper she had now only did laundry and cleaned, and left simple food in the fridge for her. She never offered her tea, or would even have thought of it. If Blaise wanted tea, she made her own. And she didn’t expect Simon to wait on her, any more than she expected him to cook for them, although he had offered. All she wanted was for him to keep Salima happy, whatever it took, and stay out of her way. With Salima’s arrival, her unavoidable needs no matter how much she loved her, and Simon in their midst, Blaise felt invaded in her own home, and they hadn’t been there for two hours. And at the look on her face, he withdrew immediately.
Blaise went to check on Salima an hour later. She was listening to music and lying on her bed, thinking of Abby, and there were tears rolling down her cheeks. Blaise sat down next to her on the bed and stroked her hair, and then kissed her.
“How’s it going?” Blaise asked, but she could see, not well.
“Horribly. I miss her so much.” And Blaise knew she always would. A bond like theirs was irreplaceable, even if they found another competent caretaker in time. She had genuinely loved Abby.
“I know you do, sweetheart. Let’s try to do some fun things while you’re here. I’ll try to get some concert tickets tomorrow.”
“I don’t want to do anything,” Salima said sadly. “And I hate Simon. He’s a pain.”
“Yeah. Maybe. He seems a little pushy to me too, but this is all new to him, the apartment, us, that ridiculous little room we have for him. I think he’s just trying to be helpful. And he’s a guy. We’re not used to guys here.” Blaise smiled at her. There was no point in either of them getting wound up about him, although he annoyed her too. She enjoyed her peaceful home, and even having Salima there was a huge change for her. Having Simon put it out in the stratosphere somewhere.
“Why can’t we just have no one?” Salima said mournfully, sounding five and not nineteen. “You can take care of me,” she said hopefully, and Blaise felt instantly guilty.
“Remember me? I work. Or had you forgotten? And I travel all the time. What would you do if I got sent away on a story? You need someone here with you.” And Blaise couldn’t see herself putting toothpaste on Salima’s brush. She could learn to do that herself now, like a big girl, blind or not. It was the only thing he’d said so far that Blaise agreed with. Salima was used to having everything done for her. Abby had done it all.
Blaise wandered back into the kitchen around eight o’clock that night. None of them had eaten dinner, and she wasn’t hungry. Simon was sitting at the kitchen table with his computer, and looked up when she walked in. Megan had just sent him an e-mail, telling him how much she missed him and how sad she was. He was too, but he had decided not to answer, and he turned off his computer and looked at Blaise.
“Can I make you guys dinner?” he offered, standing up. He felt as though he should be doing something for her, and Salima had made it clear she didn’t want him in her room, so he had nowhere to go, except the tiny maid’s room, and there was nowhere to sit there. So he had set up his computer at the kitchen table.
“I think I’ll order pizza,” Blaise said vaguely. At least Salima liked that, and might eat. “Or sushi.”