"You're a great kisser, Mark." Was he ever. Maybe it was his blindness that let him focus on his kiss or maybe it was just Mark. Whatever it was, she'd never felt as totally at the center of the universe as when Mark's lips had first met hers. "We're just at different points in our lives. That's all," she concluded miserably.
Would she ever, she wondered, be at a point in her life when she wanted to take care of a man with as terrible a handicap as Mark's blindness? She didn't think so. She wasn't looking for a man, but if she were to find one, he would have to be an equal, a partner, and someone she could look up to. Mark would have been that once. Unfortunately, before she had met him, that land mine in Bosnia had forever destroyed the possibility.
He reached out a hand and touched her cheek, wiping away another tear that she hadn't even noticed.
"Frankly, I don't think friends will work," he told her. "I don't react to you like a friend and I don't know that I ever will."
The thought of his disappearing from her life completely sent a burst of panic through her. "Please give it a chance."
Mark stared straight ahead, not responding to her entreaty. His shades hid any emotion that his face might show.
She was more disappointed than she wanted to be. Being friends seemed like such a good idea. They could ride the tandem. He could cook for her. She could read to him.
Based on Mark's current state of mind, she might as well forget that little fantasy.
Then again, if he'd agreed to "just friends," there would be other problems. She didn't feel at all confident that she could continue to resist him if they spent that much time together. Frankly, she wasn't sure she could resist him if he told her to shut up about being friends and pulled her into his arms right now.
"You're awfully quiet," he said.
She blushed, glad for a moment that he couldn't see. If he could have read the thoughts going through her mind right then, he'd either get out and walk home in disgust or ravage her in the back seat of her car.
"I was just thinking how convenient your neighborhood is," she fibbed.
"I like living here. People thought I was crazy when I bought it a couple of years ago because there used to be a lot of gang action and drug dealing here. But it's so close to Swiss Avenue where the rich people live that I thought the neighborhood would improve, and I was right. Families are starting to move back. It seems like every day I hear another kid playing in the park at the end of the street."
She pulled into Anne-Marie's driveway and killed the engine. "We're here," she announced, then felt silly for patronizing him. He probably had figured out they'd arrived when she'd turned off the car.
Mark seemed reluctant to take her arm as they walked toward the house. Rather than argue about it, she took his hand and pulled it to her elbow.
"Watch the step," she told him.
She'd noticed before how aware he was of her body, of her movements. After the unexpected kisses they'd shared in his bed, the dancelike motion of their walk felt erotic. Could he really be as attentive a lover as he appeared to be about everything else? None of the men she'd dated had ever paid nearly as much attention to the way she moved. None had cared for much but their own pleasure, figuring she could take care of her own enjoyment. She'd figured they were right, hadn’t demanded more because she really could take care of her own pleasure.
Mark might not be perfect, but he certainly seemed like a better bargain than she'd managed before. He even anticipated her sometimes, sensing her needs before she did. His attentiveness was pleasurable, but a little intimidating.
She rang the doorbell and laughed when a whole chorus of dogs burst into loud barking.
"Apparently we've come to the right house," Mark observed. If Amy hadn't known how impossible the idea was, she would have thought he sounded nervous.
The door burst open and four German shepherds piled out, jumping up on both Amy and Mark.
Anne-Marie, her student, appeared behind the dogs. "Suki, Rio, down! Ms. Halprin, I was worried that you wouldn't come."
"Sorry we're a little late. Anne-Marie, I'd like you to meet my friend Mark Barnes."
"Hi, Mr. Barnes," she said shyly, then added in a loud whisper, "Oh, he's such a hunk. Is he your boyfriend?"
"No, Anne-Marie," she explained as much to herself as to the girl. "Mark is a friend, not a boyfriend."
"My mom is waiting. This is great." Anne-Marie turned her fourteen-year-old's attentions back to Mark, subtly pulling back her shoulders and thrusting out her teen-age chest. "I have lots of blind friends, Mr. Barnes," she told him.
"I hope I'll be one of them," Mark said. "Do you train the dogs?"
"I get to play with the puppies and help gentle them. My mother does the real training. She tells me everything, though. When I turn sixteen, she's going to let me help with the real work. She even says she'll pay me."
"And you'll earn every penny," Anne-Marie's mother said.
"Hello, Mrs. Lebeau," Amy said.
"For goodness sake, Amy, you make me sound like my mother-in-law. Call me Karen. And this is?"
"Mark Barnes," Mark put in.
"Hi, Mark. Amy mentioned she had a sight-impaired friend who didn't have a dog. I can't imagine spending a life without being surrounded by animals, so I suggested she bring you over."
"I've never been around animals much," Mark admitted. "I grew up in the city. The apartments we lived in didn't have room for animals and most didn't allow them anyway."
"So you're a little uncomfortable around something wild like a dog."
"That's a good way of putting it."
"Maybe it would be better if you didn't think about this visit as getting a dog. Think of it as a getting-acquainted session. Sort of like a first date. Neither of you are sure you really want to be there, but if it doesn't work out, what have you lost? And if it does, they sky's the limit."
"Mother, really." Anne-Marie sounded totally shocked by Karen's date analogy. Amy remembered thinking she and her sister must have been adopted because she couldn’t imagine her mother having sex, so she wasn't surprised.
"Why don't we go back to the den and have a cup of coffee?" Karen suggested. "Mark can get acquainted with the dogs in a way you'll all feel comfortable with.
"Coffee sounds good," Mark admitted.
"Oh, and hold still for a second," Karen said. She grabbed a tissue from a box and dabbed Mark's face.
"The lipstick is a becoming shade," Karen said. "Still, I'm not sure you want to be wearing it out in public."
"Thanks," Mark answered, his voice suddenly devoid of emotion.
He shot Amy another of his unreadable gazes. Did he think she had left her lipstick there to embarrass him? For that matter, how could she have missed seeing it?
At least Anne-Marie hadn't appeared to pick up on the interaction. Otherwise Amy knew she'd hear nothing but 'Ms. Halprin has a boyfriend' for the next semester.
Karen's den appeared to have been laid out with the blind in mind. No coffee table or other interior furniture stood ready to bark someone in the knee. No steps led to disaster, no rugs lay ready to catch an unwary walker.
Karen steered Mark to a loveseat, sat Amy next to him before Amy could look around the room and find someplace just a little safer to sit, then the older woman vanished.
Mark's warm body, incredibly large and hard on that tiny loveseat, made her think about what they'd done. It would be hard to be just friends when their hormones acted up like this. Still, it should be possible. The more time she spent with Mark, the more she actually liked him. Really liked him.
Anne-Marie made things a little easier by regaling them with stories of her starring effort in that afternoon's soccer game.
Amy sat back and watched Mark relate with Anne-Marie. He seemed oblivious to the girl's flirtation. After a couple minutes of effort, Anne-Marie realized Mark wasn't responding and gave up on it. After that, the two relaxed and talked about soccer strategy. She hadn't seen any pictures of it in his photo album, but Mark had
apparently played serious soccer before specializing in football.
Karen carried in three cups of coffee and a Coke. "I'm going to let the dogs in now," she told Mark.
Mark immediately stiffened, then relaxed with a visible effort.
Two dogs trotted in. Like the puppies who had greeted them when they had arrived, these were German Shepherds. There the resemblance ended. These adult dogs appeared totally behaved.
Somewhat to Amy's chagrin, they homed in on Mark rather than her. She was the animal lover, after all. Why would they fawn on someone who didn't even feel comfortable around them?
"Put out your hand and let them get your scent," Karen told Mark.
He held out one hand in a gesture that showed a tentative side to the man, a side that Amy had never seen and would have been willing to bet didn't exist at all.
Then she remembered his injuries. He probably thought they might bite him.
One after another, the two dogs sniffed at his hand.
A wide grin lit Mark's face. "One of them licked me."
"They like you," Karen told him.
"What are their names?" he asked.
"These are Turko and Molly. Turko is spoken for, but Molly is the one who would have gone to the woman who went into the nursing home."
"Which one licked me?"
"Molly."
"Hum."
Mark's expression showed his mixed emotions. To his obvious surprise, he was enjoying the animals' attention. Absentmindedly, he scratched Molly behind her ear, sending the dog into quiet bliss.
"Tell me what she looks like," he asked Amy. "Please."
"She pretty much looks like a German Shepherd. Black and gray, with kind of a wolf face. Brown eyes, not blue like a husky."
"Does she look happy?"
"Actually I think she looks lonely."
Mark shook his head. "I guess I asked for that, Amy. But you don't have to humor me. Just say you told me so and get it over with. I've never spent time with dogs before and this is a new experience for me."
He turned his attention back to Karen. "I'm not saying I'm interested. Just for the sake of argument, though, how much would a dog like this cost?"
Karen smiled. "There's a special program that pays us for the training. It doesn't cost the blind person anything, except normal pet expenses like vet bills and food."
Mark frowned. "I'm don't like taking advantage of special programs. I pay for what I get."
"I don't know whether that would be possible," Karen told him. "I work exclusively for the agency."
Mark ran his hand through Molly's thick fur, his face so pleased with himself that Amy almost laughed for joy. She had done the right thing bringing him here. It was a wonderful feeling.
"I'll tell you what," Karen said. "Why don't you come over here after work for the next week. You'll have to train with the animal before you can make a decision anyway. While you're doing that, we can see about any possible payment plan. I'll warn you, though. An animal like Molly would cost more than a normal dog. They require a lot of training to do their jobs."
"That's a great idea," Amy burst in. "Since I'm not coaching any after-school sports for the next month, I could pick you up at the office and bring you over here."
Mark gave her a funny look. She knew he was going to turn her down, although she didn't know exactly why. Then Molly gave him another lick.
"I'll think about it."
Chapter 7
Amy chattered about everything as they drove toward the dive they'd decided on for dinner.
Mark relaxed, his brain whirling with sensory overload. He'd never even considered a pet before, but Molly, the German Shepherd, had appealed to some primitive level within himself. He knew his defenses had been down after the embrace he had shared with Amy. Even taking that into account, he felt he was making the right decision. He wasn't sure a seeing-eye dog would help that much with day- to-day navigation. He was absolutely sure she would help with his aversion to coming home to a lonely house.
He'd asked Amy to dinner as an instinctive gesture of thanks for her concern, not even thinking about how awkward it would be. After dinner was over, he'd reconcile himself to her decision that they remain only friends. It was for the best, of course. Friendship was real. At least he would know that she wasn't humoring him, loving him out of pity. Of course, there was no way in the world he'd agree to let Amy take him over to Karen's home every evening for him to spend time with the dog. Desiring a woman that much when he knew she didn't return the attraction would be too painful. If only she hadn't kissed him back. Before that, he'd only had his fantasy. Now he knew the reality. It made things worse.
Amy had agreed to his offer to take her out to dinner but then insisted on going to the cheapest of the places he'd mentioned. The dive was alive with evening jazz, but could only be described as something of a dump. Still, it served Dallas's best Italian food and Mark felt ready to demolish his share of the pizza.
"We're here," Amy announced, sounding a bit dismayed.
"Great. Try to park as close as possible. This isn't the world's greatest neighborhood."
"Easy for you to say."
"What's the problem?"
"The parking lot is full."
"I think they have valet parking."
"Oh." She paused for a moment. "If they do, then the valets are on vacation."
"Is there anything open on the street out front?"
"Not that I can see."
"In that case, we'll try somewhere else. Or if you want to take a rain check, that'd be all right." He supposed his ego could stand another blow.
"Don't be silly, Mark. We drove all the way over here and I want to try the fantastic pizza everyone is talking about. We may have to walk a couple of blocks but I'll find a place."
She shifted gears and revved the engine in reverse, pulling a sharp turn.
"I don't see a no-parking sign, so I guess this'll do," Amy said, her voice showing some doubt. "It's a hike. I should have dropped you off first, then found the parking spot."
"I'm not crippled. It won't hurt me to walk. And I think it'll be safer for both of us to walk together."
"Yeah? Well, it's too late anyway."
He could almost hear her unspoken question. What difference would a blind man make if something were to happen? He didn't have a good answer, so he pretended not to hear any more than what Amy said out loud.
He stepped from the car and tried to orient himself by the night sounds. To his right, he heard traffic on the Interstate. That gave him a direction.
"Let me get my purse," Amy said.
When she joined him on the sidewalk, she started off without even taking his arm.
Her footsteps sounded loud in the stuffily hot evening. In Los Angeles, where he'd grown up, evening meant a drop in temperature. Here in Dallas, night meant that it got darker, not cooler. He flipped out his cane and started after the sounds of her footsteps, being careful not to trip Amy up with the rod.
When she did grasp his arm, her touch didn't have the warm and comforting feel he associated with her. Instead she grasped him tightly, squeezing until it hurt.
"What's wrong?" he asked softly.
"I'm sure it's nothing," she whispered. "Those guys behind us are getting closer. I'm probably just being paranoid but I'm a little worried."
"Damn. I knew we should have gone somewhere else when we couldn't find a parking place in the lot," he said. When he'd been here before he'd come here with enough of his Air Force buddies to eliminate any threat.
He and Amy picked up their pace, Mark painfully aware that his blindness was slowing them down. "Try to walk softly," he whispered.
He listened carefully. The footsteps coming behind sounded purposeful. He thought he could detect two separate sets of steps. Just another couple out for an evening stroll? He didn't think so.
Then he heard a third set of footsteps only a few feet in front of them. Someone had stepped out from a hiding place, he guessed. This
was beginning to sound like a concerted effort.
"Hey, blind guy," a voice called, "you've been driving without a license. I think you'd better hand over your wallet."
"I don't want any trouble," he answered.
"Nobody wants trouble. What we want is your wallet."
The footsteps behind closed the distance while the man in front stood only a couple of feet before them. Mark couldn't think of any way to ask Amy if they were armed, so he listened to their footsteps as they shuffled toward him and Amy.
"I'm going to reach into my pocket and pull out my wallet," he announced. The last thing he needed was for one of them to decide he was going for a weapon.
"See?" the voice challenged. "I told my friends that blind wasn't the same as dumb. Drop the wallet on the sidewalk at your feet and walk backward ten feet."
Mark followed the instructions, keeping a firm grip on Amy. If things got rough, he wanted to know where she was. He wasn't at all certain these bandits would stop at the fifty dollars in his wallet.
"What about you, baby?" the man asked. He had kept the same distance, following Mark and Amy as they had stepped backward.
"What should I do?" Amy whispered.
"Talk so we can hear you, pretty girl," the voice commanded. "It's a funny thing. Girl as hot as you is pretty much wasted on a blind date. You'd think he'd get himself a three-bagger. Why not, right?"
"Drop your purse on the ground," Mark told her. "I'll pay you back whatever you lose."
****
Amy knew Mark was right. Even if he had his sight, he'd be an idiot to try to take on three separate assailants, each of whom looked big enough to play lineman for the Dallas Cowboys. Still, this experience served to confirm her decision. She had to reject the misleading sensations her hormones were sending through her body and ensure that her relationship with Mark went no further than a friendship. Or, if it had gone further, bring it back to sanity.
She slid the strap down her arm and dropped her purse on the ground. Fortunately, all she would lose was a couple of bucks, a new lipstick, and a few credit cards that were already near their limits.
"I think maybe we should check out the merchandise just a little," the cold voice of their assailant said. "You don't mind, do you, blind man?"
Blind Date Page 9
