Read Online Sleep With The Lights On by MAGGIE SHAYNE - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: MAGGIE SHAYNE
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bed, post-op, no makeup, kind of pale and tired. Trust me, you look way better on your good days, hon.”
I couldn’t take my eyes off myself as I searched for the image I used to identify with, which I only now realized was a slightly older, slightly taller twelve-year-old. With boobs.
“We’ll go shopping for prescription glasses in any style you want the minute you get out of here,” Sandra promised. “But you really need to listen to the doctor and put those back on for now.”
I nodded but didn’t obey. “When do I get out of here?” I asked. Because I wanted to see everything.
“Later today,” Doc said.
I shook my head in amazement. Later today I was going to walk out of this hospital without a cane, without having to count my steps or listen for traffic. “I don’t see how life can get any better than this,” I said, sounding like one of my own books.
Almost as soon as I said it, I wanted to snatch the words back. And not just because they made me gag. It didn’t pay to tempt fate like that. I mean, maybe life couldn’t get any better or maybe it could. What I knew for sure was that it could definitely get worse.
And it was about to.
’Cause really, miracles are just fairy tales. And reality pretty much sucks.
4
B eing able to see was so damn good, I almost started believing my own bull. I mean, really, you’ve gotta give me some leeway here. After being blind for twenty years, getting your sight back is a pretty big deal, and even the bitchiest of skeptical bitches would start to waver a little.
We had agreed to keep my “miracle” quiet for a while, which was great. I just wanted to bask in seeing for a little while before going public with the whole thing.
I had never seen my own house, and my first day home from the hospital all I wanted to do was walk through just looking at it, you know?
I rode home in Sandra’s minivan. Jim had to work, but the twins were in the backseat, chattering all the way about how I would now be able to watch Misty’s soccer games, and Christy’s cheerleading routines, and ohmygod the school play was next month. It was hard to tune them out so I could gaze out the windows at the scenery, but I managed.
We took the Whitney Point exit, left at the light and straight through the village, and I was taking it all in. The river, really wide and shallow, and pretty, the mix of nice and junky-looking businesses, the big brick school building that had probably been there for a century or so, minus the various additions. We took a right at the Mobil-slash-McDonald’s, and drove until the pavement ended and became the unpaved track that twined around the lake-sized reservoir. I lived beyond the backside of the dam, surrounded by state forest and the reservoir itself. I realized as Sandra drove just how far I had retreated from the world.
Made sense, I guess. I was in the public eye in my work. I liked to hide my private life away. I mean, I wasn’t paparazzi-bait famous, but still, I was a total fraud. Privacy was important when you were running a scam as big as mine.
When we rolled up to the gated driveway I sat there gaping. My house was like a fairy-tale cottage on crack. Steep peaks, curved clay shingles, some sections cobblestone, others rich maple wood. The windows were tall with red-stained shutters, and the front door was a like a slice from a giant redwood tree. My curving walkway was bordered in thick beds of mums...yellow, brown, red, orange. I got out of the minivan and stood there staring at them like a jackass until Sandra put her hand on my shoulder. “You okay?”
“Of course I’m okay. Why wouldn’t I be?” I looked past her at the tall, lean, pair of blonde cover models who were my twin nieces. My mental camera had totally malfunctioned on those two. I’d been picturing a pair of chubby twelve-year-olds with their mother’s dimples, I guess, even though I knew they were sixteen. Everyone looked way too serious and sappy-eyed. So I
I couldn’t take my eyes off myself as I searched for the image I used to identify with, which I only now realized was a slightly older, slightly taller twelve-year-old. With boobs.
“We’ll go shopping for prescription glasses in any style you want the minute you get out of here,” Sandra promised. “But you really need to listen to the doctor and put those back on for now.”
I nodded but didn’t obey. “When do I get out of here?” I asked. Because I wanted to see everything.
“Later today,” Doc said.
I shook my head in amazement. Later today I was going to walk out of this hospital without a cane, without having to count my steps or listen for traffic. “I don’t see how life can get any better than this,” I said, sounding like one of my own books.
Almost as soon as I said it, I wanted to snatch the words back. And not just because they made me gag. It didn’t pay to tempt fate like that. I mean, maybe life couldn’t get any better or maybe it could. What I knew for sure was that it could definitely get worse.
And it was about to.
’Cause really, miracles are just fairy tales. And reality pretty much sucks.
4
B eing able to see was so damn good, I almost started believing my own bull. I mean, really, you’ve gotta give me some leeway here. After being blind for twenty years, getting your sight back is a pretty big deal, and even the bitchiest of skeptical bitches would start to waver a little.
We had agreed to keep my “miracle” quiet for a while, which was great. I just wanted to bask in seeing for a little while before going public with the whole thing.
I had never seen my own house, and my first day home from the hospital all I wanted to do was walk through just looking at it, you know?
I rode home in Sandra’s minivan. Jim had to work, but the twins were in the backseat, chattering all the way about how I would now be able to watch Misty’s soccer games, and Christy’s cheerleading routines, and ohmygod the school play was next month. It was hard to tune them out so I could gaze out the windows at the scenery, but I managed.
We took the Whitney Point exit, left at the light and straight through the village, and I was taking it all in. The river, really wide and shallow, and pretty, the mix of nice and junky-looking businesses, the big brick school building that had probably been there for a century or so, minus the various additions. We took a right at the Mobil-slash-McDonald’s, and drove until the pavement ended and became the unpaved track that twined around the lake-sized reservoir. I lived beyond the backside of the dam, surrounded by state forest and the reservoir itself. I realized as Sandra drove just how far I had retreated from the world.
Made sense, I guess. I was in the public eye in my work. I liked to hide my private life away. I mean, I wasn’t paparazzi-bait famous, but still, I was a total fraud. Privacy was important when you were running a scam as big as mine.
When we rolled up to the gated driveway I sat there gaping. My house was like a fairy-tale cottage on crack. Steep peaks, curved clay shingles, some sections cobblestone, others rich maple wood. The windows were tall with red-stained shutters, and the front door was a like a slice from a giant redwood tree. My curving walkway was bordered in thick beds of mums...yellow, brown, red, orange. I got out of the minivan and stood there staring at them like a jackass until Sandra put her hand on my shoulder. “You okay?”
“Of course I’m okay. Why wouldn’t I be?” I looked past her at the tall, lean, pair of blonde cover models who were my twin nieces. My mental camera had totally malfunctioned on those two. I’d been picturing a pair of chubby twelve-year-olds with their mother’s dimples, I guess, even though I knew they were sixteen. Everyone looked way too serious and sappy-eyed. So I
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