I'll Be Seeing You Page 6

  “No problem. Stay ten minutes. Stay an hour. I only want my friends to meet you.” She heard a smile in his voice. “I only want them to meet the most special girl in the whole world.”

  Ten

  “I really hate this,” Janelle whispered as Jon helped her into the wheelchair.

  Carley limped over with a blanket from off the bed. “But I need you to do it so much. And I’ll never forget how you helped me. I’ll be grateful forever!” She pumped up the area with a pillow and tossed the blanket across Janelle’s lap.

  Jon leaned down and adjusted the footrest so that Janelle could prop her leg in a thrust-out position. “You know how to work one of these things?”

  “I can manage,” Janelle snapped.

  Carley fussed with the blanket, making sure that it covered Janelle’s lap and leg completely. “Just tell him—”

  “I know what to say.” Janelle pushed herself toward the door, paused, and scowled back at Carley and Jon. “What about my voice? Do you think he’s clever enough to hear a difference?”

  Carley’s stomach constricted. She’d forgotten about her voice. “You can do a pretty good imitation of me. You always did when we were little and you wanted to get me in trouble with Mom.”

  “We’ve grown up since then. At least, one of us has.”

  Carley gritted her teeth. Janelle certainly wasn’t being agreeable. “You’re going to do just fine,” she said. “And you’ll never know how much this means to me. Never, ever.”

  Janelle rolled out into the hall while Jon and Carley peeked around the doorframe. When Janelle knocked on Kyle’s door, Carley ducked backward. “She’s in,” Jon said. “Now what?”

  “Now we loiter in the hall by his door and maybe we can hear something.”

  Jon looked at her as if she were nuts, but he tagged along when she hopped out on her crutches. She rested her back on the wall beside Kyle’s door, and Jon leaned his shoulder against the wall next to her. She strained to hear through the slightly ajar door, but only snatches of words and mumbles came to her. She whispered, “I sure wish I could hear better.”

  Jon arched his eyebrow at her. “If only we’d thought to put a tape machine in her lap, she could have gotten the whole conversation.”

  She flashed him a hateful look. All at once her knees started shaking as it dawned on her that she was manipulating people’s lives! She was working so hard to protect herself that she was forcing her sister and her sister’s boyfriend to conform to her will. And she was deceiving Kyle and his friends by misrepresenting herself to them. She felt a wave of guilt and remorse. And fear. If Kyle found out about her now, he really would hate her. And she couldn’t blame him. But she felt as if she’d gone so far with her charade that she couldn’t drop it now. She couldn’t tell him the truth at this stage.

  Kyle’s room door swung open and Janelle rolled out in the wheelchair, waving goodbye over her shoulder. Carley ducked under Jon’s arm and headed in the opposite direction down the hall, fearful that one of Kyle’s friends might stick his head out the doorway and see her. When she felt it was safe, she returned to her room. Janelle and Jon were preparing to leave.

  She shut the door fast. “So what happened?”

  “Nothing happened. I was charming and sweet.”

  “Did Kyle say anything?”

  “He said he’d call me later.” Janelle picked up her purse and slipped on her coat. “But of course, he thinks I’m you.”

  “You don’t have to leave yet. We could watch an NBA game on TV, or maybe some old movie.” Now that the charade was over, Carley didn’t want to be left alone. She wanted her sister to stay. She wanted to get back into Janelle’s good graces.

  “I’ve got a Lit test tomorrow and I need to study for it.” Janelle started for the door with Jon.

  “Janelle,” Carley called. “Thanks.”

  Janelle didn’t smile. “You’re welcome. We’ll walk down the stairwell to the ground floor,” she said. “Less chance of being seen by Kyle’s friends.”

  Then Janelle and Jon were gone and Carley was alone. All alone.

  “My friends were suitably impressed.” Kyle was eating dinner in Carley’s room. Their trays were spread out on the small table near the window, and the TV played softly in the background.

  “That’s nice,” Carley said, grateful that he couldn’t see how little she was eating. She didn’t have much of an appetite tonight.

  “What did you think of them?”

  She started. Why hadn’t she pressed Janelle for more details? “They seemed nice.”

  “Nice?” Kyle cocked his head. “Steve practically fell over your chair. Did he hurt your leg?”

  “No. I’m fine.”

  “Is anything wrong?” His expression looked puzzled.

  “No. Why do you ask?”

  He touched his meat loaf, gave the plate a small turn, and cut off a piece with his fork. Carley realized he’d become quite adept at feeding himself despite his blindness. “You—um—sounded funny today.”

  “Funny ha-ha or funny peculiar?” She tried to laugh off his observation, but her heart began to thud.

  “I don’t know. Your voice sounded different to me this afternoon. Not like your usual self. I’ve grown used to your voice and the way it sounds. I like it.”

  “How does my voice sound?”

  “Sort of sexy.”

  She giggled with pure pleasure. Her voice was hers alone, and he liked it. She didn’t have to speak through her sister’s mouth. It was Carley’s voice Kyle heard. “Sexy? Me?”

  “That’s what I said.” He grinned. “When all you have is someone’s voice to go on, you notice the smallest change. And today you just didn’t sound like yourself.”

  “Um—I had a little allergy attack right before I came by to see you. Maybe that made me sound different.”

  “Maybe so.” He still acted perplexed, but she didn’t pursue it and decided to change the topic to get his mind on something else. “So, have you heard how much longer you’ll be locked in this place?”

  “My doctor hasn’t said. How about you?”

  “The antibiotic is working fine—no fever for days. I’ll get another X ray tomorrow.”

  “So you may be leaving sooner than me.”

  “I’ve been here for over a week and I’d like to leave. Wouldn’t you?”

  “Sure.” But his tone was hesitant. “It’s a little scary, though, thinking of going outside these walls when I still can’t see.”

  “Will someone be with you when you go home?”

  He shook his head. “Both my folks work, so I’ll have to be on my own for most of the day. It wouldn’t be so bad if I could see. I’m behind in all my schoolwork and I’m in accelerated classes. I’ll probably never catch up.”

  “Are we having a pity party?”

  “You’re not going to let me feel sorry for myself? Not even just a little?”

  “It won’t help.” Carley toyed with her fork. She wasn’t being insensitive to his plight, but she knew how senseless it was to sit around complaining about what couldn’t be changed. Life went on whether a person participated in it or not. “But I know how it feels to be swamped with schoolwork. That’s enough to give anybody a downer.”

  He laughed. “Well, I’m not ready to learn braille and I don’t want to spent the summer in school, so I’m not sure how I’ll catch up.”

  “Why don’t you have Steve or Jason tape your class lectures for you? Maybe then you wouldn’t fall so far behind.”

  He straightened in the chair. “Why didn’t I think of that?” He sounded amazed that something so obvious could have eluded him.

  “You don’t have a brain as devious as mine?” she offered playfully.

  “Carley, that’s a great idea. My dad could arrange to have all my classes taped and I can keep up that way. Why, I might even be able to take tests orally.”

  She tapped his hand. “I charge big bucks for advice, you know.”

  “I�
�ll pay.” They laughed together, but soon Kyle grew quiet, thoughtful. “Can I tell you something?”

  She nodded, then realized that he couldn’t see her. “Sure,” she said for emphasis.

  “I like you.”

  She felt her mouth go dry. “I like you too.”

  “Once we both go home, can I call you? Visit with you?”

  So long as you’re blind, she thought, but she said, “Oh gosh, once you get back to regular life, you’ll forget all about me.”

  Kyle grabbed her hand and held it tightly. “Not so, Carley. I’ll never forget you.”

  She felt a wave of fear. There was no way they could have a relationship once they were both out of the hospital. Sooner or later someone would see her and tell Kyle the truth. Certainly there would be no way she could ever persuade Janelle to impersonate her again. How could she put him off without hurting his feelings or telling him more than she ever wanted him to know? “Why don’t we wait and see how things go once we blow this place?”

  “You don’t want me to keep in touch, do you?” He looked dejected.

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “But it’s what you meant. Is it because I could be permanently blind? Is it because you don’t want to be stuck with a guy who’s blind?”

  “No way,” she started to protest.

  Kyle interrupted. “Steve and Jason told me how pretty you are. I can’t figure out why you don’t have a boyfriend, unless you’re so beautiful that you can pick anyone you want. If that’s the case, I don’t stand a chance.”

  In her heart she longed to tell him that he was handsome, smart, nice—the most wonderful guy she’d ever known. And that having him for a boyfriend would be the greatest thing that ever happened to her. But of course she couldn’t. She could never let him know how she truly felt. “I think we should not talk about this stuff,” she said quietly. “I think we should have fun right now and not talk about tomorrow.”

  “But—”

  “Please,” she begged. “Let’s just be friends as long as we’re here.”

  “If that’s what you want.…” He tried to keep the hurt out of his voice.

  “It’s what I want.”

  Eleven

  “You’re going home? Lucky you.” Reba gave Carley a wistful look. “I sure am going to miss you.”

  “I’ll call you,” Carley said, feeling sorry for Reba, who was still recovering from her abdominal surgery. “And before you know it, you’ll be headed home too.” Home for Reba was a small town in middle Tennessee, at least four hours from Knoxville and the hospital.

  “When are you leaving?”

  “My mom’s packing my stuff and filling out the paperwork right now.”

  “I’m glad you stopped by to tell me. Have you told Kyle?”

  Carley shook her head. “He’s my next stop.” She didn’t let on how much she was dreading it.

  “What have you decided to do about him?”

  “Nothing. I figure that once he goes home, he’ll get on with his life.”

  Reba dismissed the idea with a wave of her hand. “I think you’re dreaming. I think he’s going to want to see you.”

  “Don’t say that. You and I both know it’s impossible.”

  “Wrong. You think it’s impossible, so you won’t change your mind about telling him the truth.”

  Carley squealed, “Will you stop it already! I know what I’m doing.”

  Reba shook her head in exasperation. “Never mind. It’s like talking to a brick wall.” She grinned. “Anyway, keep your promise and call me. I know we haven’t been friends for long, but you’re my best friend ever and I want things to work out for you. You know, Carley, in spite of the way your face looks, you really do have a shot at being normal.”

  “Just how do you figure that?”

  Reba’s gaze led to the wheelchair parked near her bed. “I wish my face was the only thing messed up about me.”

  Impulsively Carley leaned down and hugged her. “I’ll be in touch.” She positioned her crutches under her arms and retreated from the room.

  She stopped at Kyle’s door, took a deep breath, and knocked. When he called, “Come in,” she did.

  “I got my walking papers,” she told him without preamble.

  His bandages couldn’t hide his disappointment. “I’ll miss you.”

  “That’s what Reba said. Maybe I should start a fan club. Charge a fee.” Carley kept her voice light and breezy.

  “You said you’d be back for PT. Will you come up and visit with me?” he asked.

  “You bet. I’ll even bring you some new Books on Tape.”

  He held out his hand and she reached out and grasped it. His grip felt warm and strong and she wished she didn’t ever have to let go. “You take care of yourself,” he said.

  “You too.”

  “You did mean what you said the other night about staying friends, didn’t you?”

  “I meant it.” She was telling him what he wanted to hear and only hoped he wouldn’t hate her when he figured out the truth—that she had no intention of ever seeing him again.

  Without warning, Kyle reached up and caught the side of her face with his hand. She gasped, but then realized he was cupping the right side, the normal side. “Don’t be mad,” he said softly. “I’ve wanted to touch you for the longest time.”

  Just so long as his fingers didn’t venture to the left side of her face, she didn’t mind. “It’s all right,” she said, glad she had crutches for support because her knees had gone weak with anxiety and emotion.

  He smoothed his thumb along her cheek, brushing the fringe of her eyelashes and the bridge of her nose. Too close! her mind warned. Carley pulled back. “Please don’t,” he whispered. “Can I touch your hair?”

  She gulped. “Okay.”

  His fingers moved upward until they stroked the tips of her thick, dark hair. He wound strands around his hand, tugging them gently, tenderly. He rolled long clusters between his thumb and fingers, as if testing the texture. As if tasting it with his sense of touch. He reached higher, combed his fingers through the thickness, and said, “Very soft. I figured it would be.”

  Her breath caught in her throat and she could scarcely breathe. Tears stung her eyes. She longed to have him kiss her. If only … if only.

  He withdrew his hand and brought his fingers to his nose and sniffed deeply. “Smells like flowers. And sunshine.” He turned his face toward her, and she touched the corners of the bandages on his eyes. They were the barrier that held him prisoner, yet protected her. “I’ve noticed that scent every time you’ve come into my room. I’ve wondered if it was your hair or some perfume.”

  “New shampoo. The ad campaign said it would drive guys wild,” she joked, hoping to make him laugh and break the tension.

  He smiled. “Funny girl. But you don’t always have to make a joke.”

  Humor was the only way she knew of dealing with intense emotional moments. “I’ve got to go.” She stepped backward.

  “I’ll be seeing you, pretty Carley.”

  She winced because his words had stung. “Goodbye, Kyle.”

  She hurried next door, where her mother looked up from the suitcase she was packing. “There you are. I wondered where you ran off to.” She paused and eyed Carley narrowly. “Are you all right? You look like you’re crying.”

  “I’m fine, Mom. I was just saying goodbye.”

  Her mother shook her head, bemused. “You never cease to amaze me. You’ve always said you hated hospitals, and now you’re crying because you have to leave this one. I’d have thought you’d never wanted to see the inside of this place again.”

  “I don’t, Mom. Call the nurse and tell her I’m ready for the wheelchair ride downstairs.” She turned to the mirror and stared at the twisted half of her face, then jerked her hair back into a ponytail. Suddenly she didn’t want anything to obstruct her true image, her real self. She didn’t want to forget that what Kyle had made her feel was an illusion. She wou
ld never be normal. Or pretty. She mustn’t ever forget. Never!

  At home Carley moped around the house for the rest of the afternoon, unable to shake a case of the blues. She missed the routine of the hospital. Most of all, she missed Kyle. The next morning Janelle asked, “You want a ride to school? Jon’s picking me up.”

  “I’ll catch the bus,” Carley said. “The sooner I get back into my regular routine, the better.”

  “Mom wants me to take you to PT tomorrow afternoon. Trouble is I have ensemble practice every day after school. State competition is in March, and if we don’t practice every day, we’ll never get a superior rating.”

  “I can drive myself.”

  “Tell that to Mom.”

  “I’m telling you, I can drive. There’s nothing wrong with my right foot, and that’s the one that controls the car.”

  “You’ll have to clear it with Mom,” Janelle said.

  “How will you get home if I persuade her?”

  “Jon will bring me.”

  “I forgot about lover boy.”

  “Be nice. I’ll give up ensemble practice on the days you have PT if Mom says you can’t drive yourself.”

  “You shouldn’t have to do that.”

  Janelle shrugged. “I hate practice.”

  But Carley could tell that her sister really did want to practice. It was her senior year and her final opportunity to earn a superior rating at state chorus competitions. “Let me talk to Mom.”

  At school she felt as she always did—a nonparticipant, on the outside looking in. Her classes weren’t a struggle; schoolwork came easily to her. But blending into the social scenery was something else again. A few kids spoke to her, asked her how her leg was doing, but most looked past her. Or over her. Or through her as if she hardly existed. She couldn’t wait for the bell to ring, marking the end of the day, so that she could go home and forget all about high school and how she didn’t fit in.

  She told herself that in a few days she’d toughen up and it wouldn’t matter. But the truth was that someone—Kyle—had treated her as if she were pretty and desirable. Now she had to return to being the ugly duckling, and it was difficult.