And four boxes of condoms.
“Nothing much,” he said. “This and that. Stuff. You never know what you’re going to need and I like to be prepared. Okay now, listen up. This is how we’re going to work it. When you’re close to a barrier or a step, I’ll give you a light squeeze, like this,” he tightened his arm briefly, “so you’ll know what’s coming. And when I say step up or step down, that’s what you’ll do, right when I say it.”
There was a little frown between the wings of her eyebrows. Allegra hadn’t had good experiences with people gauging distances for her.
She couldn’t know that he was an expert at range-finding. He used laser range-finders in the field, to position shots, but he could do it without equipment, out of a natural eye for terrain and distance and endless training. Maybe he couldn’t set up a sniper shot at a grand out without his range-finder, but he could certainly help her negotiate obstacles.
“Trust me,” he said, “I won’t let you fall or bang into anything.”
“No.” Her lips tilted up, the small frown disappeared. He saw utter trust on her face. “You won’t. You told me that, and I believe you. So now let’s go.” She hopped in place. “Now. Right now.”
“Okay.” He tightened his arm, counted, then said, “Three steps down…now. One, two, three.”
Allegra walked down the steps as easily as if she were staring at her boots. A minute later they were out the gate and walking along the sidewalk. Kowalski kept the pace slow, fitting his long stride to her much shorter one, letting her gain confidence.
Her head was swiveling left and right, like an eager puppy let out to play after being confined in the house for too long. She wasn’t seeing, but she was absorbing sensations through every square inch of exposed skin. Kowalski let her set the pace.
His job was to make sure she didn’t get hurt. Her job was to enjoy it.
Soon, they found a rhythm that allowed her to start gradually moving a little faster. It was clearly what she wanted. She must have spent the past months walking slowly, hesitantly. Now that she wasn’t afraid of tripping or finding a lamppost with her face, she started walking with a more confident stride, head up.
Inside of ten minutes, her cheeks were bright pink with the cold. She chattered, high on excitement, in her musical voice. Kowalski gave appropriate responses, listening while scouting the terrain for obstacles. It was hard keeping his eye on the road, though. Allegra was coming alive, like a flower unfurling, the most incredible thing he’d ever seen and it was all thanks to him.
He’d done this. He’d given her the gift of freedom of movement. It was almost unbearably moving, watching her taste her re-found freedom.
After they’d negotiated several curbs and steps, Allegra completely lost her shuffling gait and started walking normally. Her excitement level was way up. She was humming with energy and vibrancy.
The weather was cold but dry, sunny, perfect for a walk. There was just enough snow to make a satisfactory crunch under their feet without slowing them down.
“Are we past the blue house, yet?” Allegra asked. “It should be on the right.”
Yep, there it was, a Cape Cod in several shades of blue. All the curtains were drawn, no cars in the driveway, it looked deserted. “Yeah, we’re coming up to it now. Looks like no one’s home, though.”
“No, there wouldn’t be. It’s owned by this great gay couple, Tom and Jerry. Can you believe those names? Tom Edelman and Jerry Solarian. Jerry’s company had an IPO. He had a gazillion options that vested and he made a killing, he’ll never have to work again, the lucky sod. The two of them are on a year-long trip around the world. I should imagine they’d be in Tahiti by now. They’re going to have a cow when they come back to find that disgusting McMansion next door. The owner has a chain of restaurants and organizes Republican fundraisers. He’s incredibly smarmy and brags about his money all the time. Tom and Jerry are going to hate him. I’ll bet you anything that they’ll sell after they get back and find out who their new neighbor is, and that he’s built this monstrosity next door. Isn’t it awful?”
Sure enough, the house next to the blue one seemed almost bigger than the plot of land it was on. It had the same lines as the other houses on the street only blown up by a factor of ten. A Cape Cod on steroids.
“It’s pretty awful, yeah,” Kowalski said mildly. “But I don’t think Republicans have a lock on ugly houses.”
She laughed. “Maybe not, maybe it just seems that way. The house next to the McMansion belongs to a really nice couple. He teaches American history at Portland State and she’s a lawyer. He plays a mean bluegrass guitar. He’s been nagging me for two years to jam with him. Can you see it—bluegrass on a Celtic harp?”
Kowalski thought about it. “Might work. You might have fun.”
“Maybe. One of these days I just might take him up on the offer. Are we at the corner of McPherson yet? Because I want to turn right and go toward Lawrence Square. Sometimes there’s a group of madrigal singers on Sunday afternoons.”
“We’re coming up to the corner…right now.” Kowalski tightened his arm. “One step down.” They crossed to the right, walking down another street. She seemed to know everyone on this street, too.
How did she do it? How did she know all this stuff? Even if he lived in his new apartment for twenty years, he’d never know anything about the private lives of his neighbors.
She told him the history of the street—it was once a deeply-rutted dirt track for horse-drawn carriages carrying lumber from the forest to a mill, which had once stood two miles from here. All of it was fascinating for a man who’d never had neighbors before and had never lived anywhere long enough to know local history, unless it was the military history of a base.
Even more fascinating was Allegra, bright-eyed and vivacious. It struck him with the force of a blow that this was Allegra. This gorgeous laughing woman. He hadn’t recognized the melancholy shrouding her like a somber veil until it was lifted. If he thought she was beautiful before, now she was stunning, a magnet for the eye.
He wasn’t the only one who thought so, either. The few people they passed did double takes. You could almost hear the wheels grinding in their heads as they stared at her, looked at him, shuddered, then looked back at her. What was someone like her doing with someone like him? Kowalski had his war face on and had a lot of fun giving his Death Glare and watching them turn away, eyes down.
They’d been walking for half an hour and were now approaching some kind of outdoor mall far down a long block. The sidewalk was getting crowded.
Everyone was staring at the Beauty and the Beast thing they had going. Kowalski supposed if he and Allegra had simply been walking side by side, not touching, they wouldn’t have attracted all this attention. He could be her chauffeur or her butler or her bodyguard. Bodyguard. Yeah, now that was a scenario people could go with. Young, beautiful woman with thug—he had to be the bodyguard, right? What else could he be?
But with his arm around her, and her face adoringly turned up to his, they were lovers. You couldn’t miss it and that bothered some. People reacted to them like he was Frankenstein’s older brother hitting on Princess Leia.
He had the Death Glare on permanently now and people simply skittered away. He hadn’t kidnapped Allegra, he wasn’t forcing her to be with him, and she was obviously enjoying his company. If anyone had a problem with that—fuck ’em.
“Are we close to the mall?”
Down the long sidewalk Kowalski could see a little landscaped plaza. “Yeah, we’ll be there soon.”
“What time is it?”
Jesus, time. Something else to think of. How did blind people tell the time? He just bet there was some kind of open-faced watch he could buy her if only she weren’t so hell-bent on not being blind. “Three o’clock.”
“Wouldn’t that be oh-three-hundred?”
“Actually, it’d be fifteen hundred hours. The military runs on a twenty-four-hour clock.”
She s
lowed, then stopped. Kowalski stopped too.
Allegra tilted her head to him. “It’s all sidewalk now, isn’t it? No curbs, no steps?”
“No curbs, no steps,” he agreed. “Straight on into the square.”
“Then I want to walk arm in arm with you like any normal couple. Can we? And if there’s something I need to know, you’ll tell me?”
Like a couple.
Shit, what did he know about being a couple? A normal couple at that? Zilch. Still, it was worth a shot. He’d always been a fast learner.
Allegra stood there, looking up at him, mouth slightly upturned in a smile, the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, beaming right up at him.
Kowalski crooked his arm, tucked Allegra’s small, gloved hand into his elbow and leaned down. She must have sensed his movement because her eyes closed as he bent down to her. He touched his mouth to hers. Her lips were warm, the tip of her nose cold. She opened her mouth immediately to him, warm and welcoming. He couldn’t allow himself more than a minute kissing her. Any more and he wouldn’t be able to stop.
He lifted his mouth. She was smiling up at him.
“Like a couple,” he agreed, his voice husky. “Let’s go.”
Chapter Twelve
Walking with Douglas was like…like flying.
Allegra used to love going for long walks. Like everything else, it seemed, even this simple pleasure had been taken from her. Who could go for a walk when you risked smacking your face or tripping over a rock at any minute? The few times she’d tried going for a walk with friends, it had been a disaster. They’d tell her to turn or to step up and step down too early or too late. The last time she’d gone for a walk with one of Rosa’s sisters, she’d come back black and blue.
Douglas had given this back to her. When she realized that she could trust Douglas to warn her about steps and obstacles, and that his strong arm would keep her from falling in any case, it was as if he’d smashed hateful chains shackling her in place.
It was so great to feel free again.
If—when!—she regained her sight, she wasn’t going to take anything for granted again, ever. She’d be grateful for everything. For being able to take a walk in the park, for reading, for cooking—she’d been too proud to tell Douglas since he’d made such a fuss, but the gas stove terrified her—for a rainbow or a sunset.
For Douglas.
She was grateful right now for him and everything he’d so generously given her. Without Douglas, she’d have spent a nightmare-haunted night followed by a hollow, empty day.
Suzanne was with her husband, and Claire was with Bud at the hospital.
Allegra had lots of friends, but none she’d want to call up and ask to spend the day with her. And no one would have been the company Douglas had been.
Allegra blushed as she remembered the feverish night in his arms. No nightmares, no falling into black holes of terror, no agonizing loneliness, just hot, powerful sex.
That had been like flying, too.
“There are a lot of people around,” she said. She could not only hear them, she could…feel them.
There were voices, lots of them, laughter rising in the chilly air, a mother admonishing a child, a couple arguing, kids playing. Some were moving fast—she could feel the displacement of air as they went by. Lawrence Square wasn’t big and on Sundays it was always crowded.
Yet no one jostled her. She felt as if she were walking in a protective bubble. Well, she was. It was called Douglas.
“Yeah. Everyone seems to be having a good time. It’s a nice place.”
Allegra smiled. “Yes, it is. It’s fabulous in the summer, too.”
Would Douglas be around next summer? She lifted her face to his and was instantly rewarded with a warm kiss.
Maybe he would.
Silver notes sounded in the air and Allegra turned eagerly toward the sound. “They’re here!” She hopped, hanging on to Douglas’ arm. “Oh, let’s go, the group is usually in the corner right in front of the coffee shop. You’re going to love them!”
They made a beeline toward the music, which became louder and purer with each step. No one bothered them, they didn’t have to side-step anyone. It was as if they were completely alone in the square. How did Douglas do it? No one even swished by her.
Douglas gently pulled her to a halt. By the quality of the sound, they were right in front of the singers, in a ringside seat, only standing.
Allegra settled in happily to listen to the group. They were so good. It was a young group, she remembered, three men and four women, with an unusual purity of sound. They were singing “Take Time While Time Doth Last,” light and delicate, one of her favorites. She’d sung that once with her cousins, only they’d been drunk. It hadn’t affected the harmony, however, she remembered fondly. There wasn’t anything an Ennis could do sober that he couldn’t do better in his cups.
“Wonderful soprano,” Douglas rumbled, “great breath control.” Allegra nodded. She remembered the woman. Tall and geeky-looking with wild corkscrew black hair. Yes, she was a great soprano and yes, she did have great breath control. What a pleasure it was to listen to her, to them all. And the pleasure was doubled because she was listening with Douglas, who loved music, too.
Now they were singing extracts from The Fairy Queen, her favorite opera.
Douglas had positioned himself behind her, arms loosely clasped around her waist, a wall of warm strength.
Allegra closed her eyes, swaying gently to the music, leaning back into Douglas, feeling his strong arms tighten around her. This was so perfect—the man and the music and the day. If she kept her eyes closed, she could almost imagine her life intact again. More than intact. With a new love in it. She smiled at the thought of the song she’d been composing, “New Love.” It fit her feelings exactly, that delicious tingling excitement of someone new. That thrill of connection, the zing of anticipation. The feeling that maybe this time was going to be It.
There was that with Douglas, yet there was something else, as well. Something more powerful than novelty. She’d had lots of flirts, though not many lovers, and the men had all had one thing in common—they’d been fun and, she understood now, shallow. Allegra tried to imagine Billy Trudloe or Davis Cleaver spending a day with her after she’d been blinded. She failed completely.
She wasn’t fun now, she knew that. It took a lot of patience and attention to detail to be with her. The men she’d known would have shied away from her and her problems, running away like rats from the proverbial sinking ship. She needed help every second of every day and that sucked.
She couldn’t go to the movies or the ballet or the theater, or at least not with any degree of enjoyment. Restaurants were a nightmare because she could so easily make a mess. Now she would go to a restaurant only with Claire or Suzanne, who loved her.
Look at today—going for a walk in the snow was a big, big deal. It required planning and time and attention. What kind of man wanted that grief?
What kind of man wanted to start a relationship with a handicapped woman, a woman who couldn’t see? Who had nightmares at night and demons in her head? Who cried more often than she laughed?
No, she wasn’t dating material. She was a burden. Though apparently—by some miracle—not for Douglas.
Somehow, Douglas didn’t seem to notice what a raw deal she was. Not once had he expressed impatience or annoyance or anything but a red-hot desire for her coupled with a drive to help her. There was something rock-like about him, even beyond his massive size and strength. Something immensely reassuring and patient. Reliable. He was here, with her, and from what she could tell, he intended to stay.
Muscles which had been tense for months started slowly relaxing. She shut off the worry lobe in her head and let it all go—her despair and grief. It felt like lancing a black, putrid boil. Joy slowly filtered its way back into her soul, and she welcomed it back like a beloved friend who had been away for much too long. This was happiness, right here, right now. She co
uld feel sunshine on her face for the first time in months, she was listening to beautiful music, and she had Douglas to lean back on.
The future all of a sudden took on a new glow. She’d been living strictly day-to-day. Thinking of the future was too painful, so she just plodded through her days, one by one. Now there was something to look forward to. Maybe Douglas would take her to the Bach concert on Thursday night. Maybe he’d take her for another walk during the week if it didn’t snow too hard. Maybe next Sunday they could come back to Lawrence Square again.
“If love’s a sweet passion, why does it torment?” the musicians sang.
Allegra smiled and, eyes still closed, turned to kiss Douglas on the shoulder. Instead of warm hard muscle, she kissed the nylon of his parka. Worked for her.
The singers were winding up. As the last glorious note lingered in the air, the people around them burst into applause. What kind of hat did the group have to take donations? Last summer it had been a top hat.
She tilted her head up and sideways. “I don’t have any money with me, can you give them something? They’re students and they’re probably poor.”
“Sure thing, honey,” he answered. “A twenty okay?”
“Oh, yeah.” A twenty would cover hot dogs and coffee for all. “Thanks, Douglas. That’s really generous.”
“Be right back.” He left her for a moment, to drop the money into the hat.
“That was very inferior work my dear, but then you never could recognize quality,” Corey Sanderson’s snide tenor said, right in her ear. Her mind blanked with shock and her knees buckled.
Kowalski placed a twenty-dollar bill in the felt bowler hat at the feet of the singers. They deserved it. They weren’t in Allegra’s class, but then few singers were. Still, it felt good to encourage young talent.
He hardly recognized that thought as coming from his own head—and yet this seemed to be his new mode in civilian life. He snorted at this new image of himself—Senior Chief Kowalski, gentle, tender mentor of the young.
The lead singer met his eyes in thank you as the banknote drifted into the hat. This new and kinder version of Senior Chief Kowalski nodded his head back. Nice feeling, he was thinking as he turned—just in time to see Allegra start to fall.
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