Read Online Sleep With The Lights On by MAGGIE SHAYNE - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: MAGGIE SHAYNE
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Had to double-check.
Am I really seeing, or is this imagination?
No, no, it was real. I could see people in the room. Yes, blurry, I guess, but consider what I had to compare it to. Women, three women, and I almost panicked, thinking I wouldn’t know who was who and would hurt their feelings.
Duh, you knew who was who before, didn’t you?
Right. Sandra’s on the left, holding my hand. I shifted my new eyes to her, and then I clapped my hand over my mouth and the tears started up. “I can see you,” I said behind my hand.
She was smiling and shaking her head, and crying, too, bending to hug me, but I pushed her away. “No, no, I want to look at you.” And then I clasped her face in my hands and stared at it. Smooth porcelain skin, and blue blue eyes, and laugh lines. My big sister, all grown up. I stared at her until I saw the girl she’d been in her face, in her blue eyes. Her hair was still curly, and I thought it was still gold, but it was too dark to be sure.
I turned from her to look at Amy by the foot of the bed. And I laughed and smeared tears off my cheeks with one hand, careful of my eyes. “You look just like I thought...only not as Goth and even cuter.” She was, short, a little more rounded than she wished she was, short dark perfectly straight hair parted deep on one side. I knew it was dark red—not auburn but burgundy; I’d heard her say so. But in the dimness it looked black.
“I usually am more Goth, but I toned it down for this,” she said, grinning, tears rolling down her cheeks.
And then I looked at Doc. And blinked. “You’re Asian? ” I burst out.
She broke into laughter, wiping tears from her cheeks.
“Well, you could have told me! What the hell kind of Asian is named Fenway?”
“A married one.”
I looked at the laptop on the tray table beside the bed where BW was sobbing her eyes out from inside a little box on the screen. This must be the magical Skype I’d heard so much about. She had a predictable short, sleek silver hairstyle, but I couldn’t see her face, because she had dropped it into her hands and was bawling like the rest of us.
“God, BW, look up will you?”
She did. Man, she was a classic beauty, sculpted cheekbones, big brown eyes. And sharp. Even if they were weepy at the moment.
She smiled at me. Her teeth were so white!
“You’re gorgeous! You’re all gorgeous.” I couldn’t stop looking from one woman to the other. “God, everything is...brighter. Even in the dark.” Then I looked at Doc again. “Can’t I have a little more light?”
Nodding, she went to the window and opened the blinds just a crack, and I could see even more. If it was blurry, I didn’t know it. Since, aside from twenty-year-old memories, I had only darkness to compare it to, and the teasing glimpses offered by transplants gone by, it seemed perfectly twenty-twenty to me.
“This is amazing. Oh my God.” Please last, please last, please just fucking last this time. “When can I have full blasting sunlight?”
“In a few days. Here.” She leaned over and slid a pair of tinted glasses on my face. “You need to wear these— these, not your designer ones—until further notice, okay?”
I pulled them off and looked at them. “Oh, come on, these? Can’t I pick out a nicer pair? You know, something trendy, with spangles or—” I stopped and looked at Sandra, grinning like a loon ’cause I could still see her. “For all I know, these are trendy. Are they?”
“Not in the least,” Sandra said. Then she leaned over and picked up the top of the tray table, revealing a mirror.
And there I was, staring at myself. At me. Seeing me more clearly than I had in twenty years. It was so surreal my stomach twisted a little. “That’s me? ” I leaned closer, tipping my head at various angles, touching my hair. “It’s like looking at a stranger.”
“A beautiful stranger,” Sandra said.
Amy added, “Yeah, but way more beautiful when you’re not in a hospital
Am I really seeing, or is this imagination?
No, no, it was real. I could see people in the room. Yes, blurry, I guess, but consider what I had to compare it to. Women, three women, and I almost panicked, thinking I wouldn’t know who was who and would hurt their feelings.
Duh, you knew who was who before, didn’t you?
Right. Sandra’s on the left, holding my hand. I shifted my new eyes to her, and then I clapped my hand over my mouth and the tears started up. “I can see you,” I said behind my hand.
She was smiling and shaking her head, and crying, too, bending to hug me, but I pushed her away. “No, no, I want to look at you.” And then I clasped her face in my hands and stared at it. Smooth porcelain skin, and blue blue eyes, and laugh lines. My big sister, all grown up. I stared at her until I saw the girl she’d been in her face, in her blue eyes. Her hair was still curly, and I thought it was still gold, but it was too dark to be sure.
I turned from her to look at Amy by the foot of the bed. And I laughed and smeared tears off my cheeks with one hand, careful of my eyes. “You look just like I thought...only not as Goth and even cuter.” She was, short, a little more rounded than she wished she was, short dark perfectly straight hair parted deep on one side. I knew it was dark red—not auburn but burgundy; I’d heard her say so. But in the dimness it looked black.
“I usually am more Goth, but I toned it down for this,” she said, grinning, tears rolling down her cheeks.
And then I looked at Doc. And blinked. “You’re Asian? ” I burst out.
She broke into laughter, wiping tears from her cheeks.
“Well, you could have told me! What the hell kind of Asian is named Fenway?”
“A married one.”
I looked at the laptop on the tray table beside the bed where BW was sobbing her eyes out from inside a little box on the screen. This must be the magical Skype I’d heard so much about. She had a predictable short, sleek silver hairstyle, but I couldn’t see her face, because she had dropped it into her hands and was bawling like the rest of us.
“God, BW, look up will you?”
She did. Man, she was a classic beauty, sculpted cheekbones, big brown eyes. And sharp. Even if they were weepy at the moment.
She smiled at me. Her teeth were so white!
“You’re gorgeous! You’re all gorgeous.” I couldn’t stop looking from one woman to the other. “God, everything is...brighter. Even in the dark.” Then I looked at Doc again. “Can’t I have a little more light?”
Nodding, she went to the window and opened the blinds just a crack, and I could see even more. If it was blurry, I didn’t know it. Since, aside from twenty-year-old memories, I had only darkness to compare it to, and the teasing glimpses offered by transplants gone by, it seemed perfectly twenty-twenty to me.
“This is amazing. Oh my God.” Please last, please last, please just fucking last this time. “When can I have full blasting sunlight?”
“In a few days. Here.” She leaned over and slid a pair of tinted glasses on my face. “You need to wear these— these, not your designer ones—until further notice, okay?”
I pulled them off and looked at them. “Oh, come on, these? Can’t I pick out a nicer pair? You know, something trendy, with spangles or—” I stopped and looked at Sandra, grinning like a loon ’cause I could still see her. “For all I know, these are trendy. Are they?”
“Not in the least,” Sandra said. Then she leaned over and picked up the top of the tray table, revealing a mirror.
And there I was, staring at myself. At me. Seeing me more clearly than I had in twenty years. It was so surreal my stomach twisted a little. “That’s me? ” I leaned closer, tipping my head at various angles, touching my hair. “It’s like looking at a stranger.”
“A beautiful stranger,” Sandra said.
Amy added, “Yeah, but way more beautiful when you’re not in a hospital
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