Read Online The More I See by Lisa Mondello - Free Book Online
Authors: Lisa Mondello
Tags: Romance
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what she lacked in life.
She'd long ago learned to stuff those feelings into her own secret box and hide them away. It was much more crippling to let them win.
She had been blessed with something much more important in life. She got her vision back. What else could compare to that?
"It's no big deal, really," Cody was saying. "Like I said, I was just wondering. I mean, I can't imagine how you did it. Didn't you ever wonder what people looked like? What colors were? That must have been incredible, you know, the first time you opened your eyes and saw the world. I can't imagine it."
Lyssa shrugged. "It was pretty amazing." The heady feeling she'd initially felt that first day enveloped her again with the memory. "I didn't remember ever seeing before the accident."
"So you weren't born blind?"
"No, like you, I had an accident. Unfortunately, my father was killed. My real father, that is. Mom remarried when I was a little over three years old and all I remember growing up was my stepdad."
Nathan Jones had never adopted her, although Lyssa had never seen the need. She was his daughter in every way that counted. But there were times she wondered why he hadn't adopted her. When she was twelve years old, she had asked her mother about it. She couldn't see her mother's face, but sensed the sudden, subtle, sadness in the tone of her voice. Her mother had truly loved Lyssa's real dad. She explained that allowing her stepdad to adopt Lyssa would be like taking away the precious gift Brian McElhannon had given her, erasing his very existence.
When Lyssa could finally see, she'd sifted through boxes of baby pictures and photo albums and looked at her biological father's face for the first time. She looked exactly like him, and she finally understood.
"What was the first thing you saw?"
Lyssa smiled. "My mother. My vision didn't come back all at once. There were several surgeries over a period of time. I remember it starting out as a haze and then things slowly came into view. I knew my mother's voice so well, but I was stunned by her face and how beautiful she was. I remember staring at her for the longest time and then my sister, then my dad. Although by the time I got to my dad I had so many tears in my eyes I couldn't see much of anything."
She chuckled and swallowed a small lump that lodged in her throat.
"The first night I absolutely refused to go to sleep because I thought it was all a dream and I'd wake up blind again."
"Was it anything like you thought it would be?"
"Yes and no." Some things were very different.
"That's a good answer."
She laughed again and stood up, brushing the dry grass from her jeans.
"Faces intrigued me. Even sculpting never gave me a clear image in my mind."
"What's that?"
"What?"
"Sculpting. Are you talking about with clay?"
She shook her head. "With your hands. Touching something and then forming the image in your mind. Kind of like a hands-on sonogram. Most people did have blank faces to me, but the people I was close to usually let me sculpt them. That's what I called it anyway. I could feel what they looked like."
"With your hands."
"Yes, just like a real sculptor uses clay."
"How you do that?"
Cody seemed to be hanging on her every word and, for the first time since she'd arrived at the ranch, seemed very interested in what she had to say.
"I would touch their face, glide my fingers over their features, and commit them to memory. Kind of like an instant Polaroid."
"Will you show me?"
"What do you mean 'show you?' I can't really show you." She let out a quick laugh, mostly out of nervousness. Was he serious?
"Sure you can. You aren't afraid, are you?"
"No, of course not." Absolutely! Sculpting was not something she'd ever done with a stranger. Sure, Cody wasn't really a stranger anymore, but he certainly wasn't somebody she felt close enough to to touch in that way.
"Then what's the problem?" he asked.
"I can't accurately show you without..."
"Touching me? That is kind of
She'd long ago learned to stuff those feelings into her own secret box and hide them away. It was much more crippling to let them win.
She had been blessed with something much more important in life. She got her vision back. What else could compare to that?
"It's no big deal, really," Cody was saying. "Like I said, I was just wondering. I mean, I can't imagine how you did it. Didn't you ever wonder what people looked like? What colors were? That must have been incredible, you know, the first time you opened your eyes and saw the world. I can't imagine it."
Lyssa shrugged. "It was pretty amazing." The heady feeling she'd initially felt that first day enveloped her again with the memory. "I didn't remember ever seeing before the accident."
"So you weren't born blind?"
"No, like you, I had an accident. Unfortunately, my father was killed. My real father, that is. Mom remarried when I was a little over three years old and all I remember growing up was my stepdad."
Nathan Jones had never adopted her, although Lyssa had never seen the need. She was his daughter in every way that counted. But there were times she wondered why he hadn't adopted her. When she was twelve years old, she had asked her mother about it. She couldn't see her mother's face, but sensed the sudden, subtle, sadness in the tone of her voice. Her mother had truly loved Lyssa's real dad. She explained that allowing her stepdad to adopt Lyssa would be like taking away the precious gift Brian McElhannon had given her, erasing his very existence.
When Lyssa could finally see, she'd sifted through boxes of baby pictures and photo albums and looked at her biological father's face for the first time. She looked exactly like him, and she finally understood.
"What was the first thing you saw?"
Lyssa smiled. "My mother. My vision didn't come back all at once. There were several surgeries over a period of time. I remember it starting out as a haze and then things slowly came into view. I knew my mother's voice so well, but I was stunned by her face and how beautiful she was. I remember staring at her for the longest time and then my sister, then my dad. Although by the time I got to my dad I had so many tears in my eyes I couldn't see much of anything."
She chuckled and swallowed a small lump that lodged in her throat.
"The first night I absolutely refused to go to sleep because I thought it was all a dream and I'd wake up blind again."
"Was it anything like you thought it would be?"
"Yes and no." Some things were very different.
"That's a good answer."
She laughed again and stood up, brushing the dry grass from her jeans.
"Faces intrigued me. Even sculpting never gave me a clear image in my mind."
"What's that?"
"What?"
"Sculpting. Are you talking about with clay?"
She shook her head. "With your hands. Touching something and then forming the image in your mind. Kind of like a hands-on sonogram. Most people did have blank faces to me, but the people I was close to usually let me sculpt them. That's what I called it anyway. I could feel what they looked like."
"With your hands."
"Yes, just like a real sculptor uses clay."
"How you do that?"
Cody seemed to be hanging on her every word and, for the first time since she'd arrived at the ranch, seemed very interested in what she had to say.
"I would touch their face, glide my fingers over their features, and commit them to memory. Kind of like an instant Polaroid."
"Will you show me?"
"What do you mean 'show you?' I can't really show you." She let out a quick laugh, mostly out of nervousness. Was he serious?
"Sure you can. You aren't afraid, are you?"
"No, of course not." Absolutely! Sculpting was not something she'd ever done with a stranger. Sure, Cody wasn't really a stranger anymore, but he certainly wasn't somebody she felt close enough to to touch in that way.
"Then what's the problem?" he asked.
"I can't accurately show you without..."
"Touching me? That is kind of
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