“I didn’t know you can sing like that,” he said in amazement. And then he vaguely remembered that she had been in the choir and dropped out when she started college.
“I used to be in the choir,” she confirmed his recollection. “Miss Mayberry is tone deaf,” she said wryly, and he laughed.
“That explains some of the performances we’ve had at school. Have you ever taken lessons?” She shook her head in answer. “Maybe you should.” At Eric’s request, he had called the community college for her that morning, and informed them of what had happened at the school and that they were closing for three months. They had agreed to let her follow a course of independent study for credit while she was in New York. “That might be a fun way to pick up credit for college. It would be a lot more fun than a math class.”
“I don’t want to go to school,” she said, and Blaise could sense that she didn’t like him. She wasn’t sure about him herself. He seemed very confident and self-assured. He was polite, but he was a big presence, and because he was a man and sure of himself, Blaise felt like he was in her face, and she guessed that Salima did too.
He had opinions about everything and he wasn’t afraid to voice them. And he had already said to Blaise in Eric’s office that he thought Salima should become more independent, now that Abby was gone. Blaise didn’t want him pushing her too far, particularly now. And she suspected that Salima would be mourning the gentle young teacher for a long time. Simon was already trying to draw her out. No one in the car said a word for the next three hours. Blaise felt as if it were the longest drive of her life, and she was relieved when she turned to glance at Salima and saw that she had fallen asleep. She was exhausted from the emotions of the past two days, and constant crying.
“She’ll be all right,” Simon said softly, trying to reassure her, and Blaise looked as if she didn’t believe him.
“It’s going to take a long time,” Blaise said sadly, wondering if they would ever find someone like Abby. Simon was not what she had in mind, as a teacher maybe, but not as the kind of caretaker Abby had been, nurturing and loving, and protecting Salima from everything. Simon was very much a man, and seemed like a bull in a china shop to her. She wasn’t looking forward to living with him for the next three months, and hoped that Eric would find someone else. She had asked him to continue looking for a woman.
“We need to keep her busy,” Simon responded, looking out the window as they crossed the bridge into upper Manhattan. He hadn’t been there in a year, and hadn’t realized how much he’d missed it. He had grown up in Boston, while his father taught at Harvard, but he didn’t get there often either. He hardly ever left the school, and for the past three years, he’d been spending all his free time with Megan, lately in cheap motels. It depressed him to think about it. He suddenly realized the seamy life he had been living with her, while he waited for her to leave her husband. And he strongly suspected now that she never would. He was grateful for the opportunity to come to New York, and take a break. He was still thinking about her and how much he already missed her, while Blaise pulled up in front of their building. Simon was staring out the window, with a blank look, still thinking of Meg.
“We’re here,” Blaise said firmly, to catch his attention, and Salima stirred in the backseat, as the doorman began unloading their bags. He recognized Salima immediately but had never seen the man before. They looked like a motley crew, entering the building a few minutes later with all of Salima’s things, as she held on to her mother’s arm for guidance, after Blaise asked the doorman to take the car to the garage. And without prodding, Blaise saw Simon tip the doorman, who tipped his hat to him. She was pleased he had thought of it himself. “Thank you,” she said to him, and Simon looked startled. To him, it had been the obvious thing to do. To Blaise, it was evidence that he had been well brought up and did the right thing. At least he knew how to tip. It was one thing less for her to think about, and he made himself useful. He carried all the bags into the apartment for them as Salima felt her way around, getting acclimated again. She was far less familiar and at ease here than she was at school—she didn’t come home often.
Blaise showed Simon to Salima’s room, so he could bring her bags in. There was hardly space for all of them in the small sunny room that was empty most of the time.
She pointed out her own suite then so he could carry her suitcase, and then she walked him into the kitchen and escorted him to one of the two tiny rooms behind it, the maids’ rooms they never used. Looking at his size, with his long legs, and the narrow bed, she suddenly realized how inadequate it was for him, but she had nothing else, except her own room and Salima’s.
“I’m sorry. I know this room is really small for you. We’re just not set up for guests.” And even less so for men, she almost added, but didn’t. But he looked perfectly content as he set down his two small bags and tossed his laptop case onto the bed. He never went anywhere without it.
“I must have been a monk in a past life. I don’t mind small spaces. My room at Caldwell isn’t much bigger than this,” he said with an easy smile, and she was relieved. At least he wasn’t demanding. She had expected him to have a fit when he saw the room. And now her housekeeper would have to sleep in the other room whenever Blaise went away, so there would be a woman in the house to help Salima bathe and dress.
“Thank you for being nice about it,” Blaise said quietly as they went back into the kitchen.
“Do you mind if I cook once in a while?” he asked as he looked around the fabulous kitchen. It was his dream come true.
“You don’t need to,” Blaise said, looking distracted. “My housekeeper leaves things we can heat up. I come home from work pretty late, and I don’t have time to cook. I usually just eat a salad when I’m alone, or don’t bother at all. And we can order in.” She wasn’t interested in his cooking. He was here to help Salima and nothing else. And he didn’t comment on what she said. He just nodded and followed her back to Salima’s room.
“Do you need some help hanging things up?” he asked her. Salima was sitting on her bed, looking glum. “We can put them in your closet by type and color. I can put Braille labels on the hangers for you. I brought my machine. Then you can pull them out on your own and dress yourself,” he said helpfully. Both women looked shocked.
“She doesn’t need to dress herself,” Blaise said with a look of disapproval. “My housekeeper will help her with that. And I’ll do it on the weekends.” They were already off to a bad start, but Simon looked undisturbed.
“Let’s label your toiletries at least, so you don’t get them mixed up and brush your teeth with the wrong stuff.” He sounded firm about that, and it made sense to Blaise, but Salima snapped at him immediately.
“Abby puts my toothpaste on the brush for me.” She didn’t tell him that sometimes Abby even brushed her teeth for her. She knew that would sound lame.
“I think you can do that yourself,” Simon said quietly, gently pushing her with his suggestion, and Salima didn’t like it, and neither did Blaise. The last thing she wanted was for him to upset Salima, and spark a war between the two of them.
Later, Blaise led him into her office off her bedroom, so he would know where to find her, since it was the room where she spent most of her time when she was home. And she looked him squarely in the eye the moment they were alone. “I think we need to get one thing clear right away. You’re not here to rock the boat. All we want to do is get Salima through this incredibly difficult time in her life, without the woman she loved and relied on, until she goes back to school. We’re not planning to reinvent the wheel.”
“I don’t think the wheel has been invented yet,” Simon said just as firmly, meeting her gaze. “Abby and I had very different views about things. Maybe it’s the difference between men and women, but I think being self-sufficient is key. Salima is nineteen years old, not two, and she needs to know how to take care of herself. What if she wants to live alone one day? She can’t stay at Caldwell forever. She
needs to get ready for that day. And with Abby gone, this seems like the right time.”
“She’s never going to live alone,” Blaise said in an even stronger tone. She had already provided for that. Salima would have a caretaker forever.
“You never know,” Simon said. “My brother said the same thing. He lived at home after his accident, for several years. My mother babied him, just as Abby did with Salima. Now he has a job, a wife, four children, and he takes care of them. Whatever she does, or however you provide for her, Salima still needs skills. And it will make her feel better about herself,” he insisted.
“She feels fine about herself. What she feels like shit about is losing Abby. Let’s try not to make it any worse.” Simon didn’t answer her, but he nodded, in order to keep the peace. And Blaise could tell that she hadn’t convinced him, which unnerved her. She felt as if she were swimming upstream in her own home, fighting the currents, and she didn’t like the feeling. He wasn’t at Caldwell anymore, he was in her apartment, and she expected her word to be law. And she was getting the strong feeling that Simon didn’t live by other people’s rules. He was courteous and considerate, but he definitely had his own ideas, and they weren’t hers.
He went to check on Salima then, and after a few minutes, she let him unpack for her, and she told him where she wanted her things. He noticed that her closets here at home were almost empty, and he realized how seldom she was there. Caldwell had become her home, and he wondered if Blaise was going to try to keep her there, or at a similar place once she got older. Simon thought that would be a tragedy for Salima, and a terrible waste. She had a bright mind, and was capable of far more than anyone expected of her, particularly Abby. He didn’t want to speak ill of the dead, and he had liked her, but he thought now that with time, she would have crippled Salima. He was beginning to think that it was a blessing Abby was out of her life. And undeniably, everything he had in mind for her would be very different, and even painful at times to make the change from total dependency to freedom. And it was easy to see that Blaise wasn’t on board either. He would have to pull it off on his own. And he intended to try in the next three months. He wasn’t afraid to make waves. It would be for Salima’s good in the end, even if neither she nor her mother understood that.
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.”
“Does an omelet appeal? Or pasta? I can whip that up pretty quickly.” The omelet sounded good, but she didn’t want to admit it, so she shook her head.
“We’re fine,” she insisted. She called for pizza, and he didn’t interfere. She asked him what he wanted, and he said a large with everything on it except anchovies, which sounded good to her too. And she ordered a small pizza margherita for Salima, and she called her when they arrived. Salima came out of her bedroom and sat down at the kitchen table. Simon watched her mother serve her a slice on a plate and set it in front of her, and the three of them ate their pizza and said not a word.
After dinner, Salima went back to her room, and to bed a little while later. Blaise had told him she’d check Salima’s insulin pump herself, so he didn’t go in to see her. And Simon could see the light
on in Blaise’s office for a long time, but he didn’t disturb her. He stayed on his computer for a while, read two more e-mails from Megan that sounded increasingly desperate, didn’t answer her, and finally went to bed. It had been a long, stressful day. And he was well aware of just how unwelcome he was in their home.
When the alarm went off at four o’clock the next morning, Blaise felt like she’d been beaten with a stick. The past few days had taken their toll. The shocking news of Abby’s death, her funeral, the school closing, Simon in the house. And Salima to take care of for the next few months. It was overwhelming. The one thing she was grateful for was that Simon knew all the protocols for Salima’s blood tests, monitoring her insulin pump, checking it at night, and dealing with her diabetes. He knew exactly what he was doing, which was a relief. But everything else he did unnerved her. His very presence in her home felt like an intrusion and rubbed her the wrong way. She was trying not to let it upset her, but it did. And she didn’t want to let Salima know how much. Salima disliked him enough already, and it would only make matters worse. Salima had objected strenuously to Simon moving in with them. And Blaise had told her they had no other option and she had to make her peace with it. She had to please her mother, but grudgingly. And Blaise couldn’t deal with a war in her home and didn’t want to. They were stuck with Simon, for now anyway, and had to make it work, like it or not. And Salima didn’t love it.
Blaise got out of bed slowly, not quite ready to face the day and all the stress she knew was waiting for her at work: Susie Q, and all the projects Blaise was working on and hadn’t finished when she left in a rush three days earlier. She would have to deal with all of it today. She took a shower instead of a bath, trying to wake up, even though she wet her hair. The hairdresser on the set could deal with it when she got there. And her shoulder-length red hair was still wet when she walked into the kitchen half an hour later in a crisp white shirt and gray slacks, and no makeup. She needed a cup of coffee desperately, and had the newspapers in her hand when she walked in, and nearly screamed as she saw Simon at the kitchen table. He stood up and handed her a cup of steaming-hot coffee, just the way she liked it. He had noticed the way she took it the day before. Two sugars, no cream. She wanted to thank him, but she couldn’t as she took the cup from him. She didn’t want to talk to anyone at that hour, and he could see it instantly on her face.
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