“Wouldn’t you rather have a little more mobility than just hanging on to me?”
“No, that’s fine.” She didn’t want to identify herself as blind, but he thought she should use a stick, since she didn’t have a dog. He wondered about that and asked her about it as they set out down the street toward the music store.
“Why no dog?” She had her hand tucked into his arm as they walked.
“I hate dogs. I got bitten once by a German shepherd when I was a little kid. All guide dogs are German shepherds.”
“That’s not true. Some are Labs. They’re nice, and they don’t bite. That might give you more freedom.”
“I don’t need freedom, or a dog,” she said, shutting down again, but she opened up the minute they got to the music store and spent two hours picking CDs. She introduced him to some bands and singers that he didn’t know, and gave him good advice. And she picked out twenty new CDs for herself, some of them old groups, and others new ones. She had very eclectic taste in music, which Simon found interesting. She had fun and so did Simon. He was getting to know her through music. Whatever worked.
And after the music store, he took her to a lively place for lunch. She said she wasn’t hungry, but he insisted he was starving, which wasn’t true. But she went to be polite, and they talked all through lunch about what interested her, her values, her philosophies, how she felt about her father hardly ever seeing her, her mother’s career. She began to lay the keys to the kingdom at his feet.
For Blaise, the day had gotten off to a bad start. First, she found herself face to face with Simon before she even had a cup of coffee. He was in the kitchen before she’d fully woken up. She hated talking to anyone in the morning, even if she’d slept with them the night before. Early morning was a sacred time to her. And she felt as though her life had been invaded from the moment he handed her the cup of coffee until she left for work.
Then her usual hairdresser didn’t show up for work. Blaise was unhappy with what the replacement girl did to her hair, and she thought she looked a mess when she went on the air.
To make matters worse, after finishing her morning segment, she saw Susie Q sucking up to one of the network executives who was on the set. Watching her made Blaise feel sick. She was so obvious it turned her stomach.
And the rest of the day was a series of annoyances and aggravations. Tully was on vacation so she had a driver she didn’t like. By the time she got home that night, an hour later than usual, due to traffic, all she wanted was to take a bath and go to bed. Instead there was music blaring in the house, on the stereo system she never used. She could tell that it was Salima’s music. She could hear her singing. And Blaise could hear voices in the kitchen. She walked in with a scowl on her face.
“What are you doing?” she said to Simon in a harsh voice. The day was ending as it had started, with Simon in her space.
“Cooking dinner,” he said calmly. He was wearing an apron, and he had Salima handing him ingredients. Their day had gone very well. She was teaching him the difference between reggae and ska. And she also loved jazz and blues, just as he did. They had bought a lot of CDs. However, the one on the stereo just then was not one that her mother loved. “It will be ready in ten minutes,” Simon warned her, “or longer if you need more time.”
“I told you not to cook dinner,” she snapped at him. “And I’m not hungry,” she said rudely.
“We are,” he said simply. “You don’t have to join us if you don’t want.” She stalked off to her room then, and Simon put a soufflé in the oven, as Salima sat nearby.
“What are you making?” She sounded curious, and the smells in the kitchen were delicious.
“You’ll see. I hope you like it. It’s an old family recipe I learned from a chef in Paris. Just not my family. No one in my family can cook. My mother’s cooking would kill you, except for blood sausage, which I love.”