by J. J. Murray
“You need to have a transplant,” Dylan said. “I will make the appointment.”
“Stop!”
“Millions have had this procedure done.”
“I’ll give you a procedure,” she said, sliding her hands into his front pockets.
“We’re going to play doctor?” Dylan said. “Does it involve suction?”
“It may involve some cutting,” Hope said, “so take your sexy derriere to that bed and do some operating on me . . .”
Though the countless eye tests the next day taxed her, annoyed her, and scared her to no end, Hope made it through the consultation.
And she agreed to do the laser surgery.
“What was the deciding factor?” Dylan asked as they kissed in the back of another cab returning them to her place.
“You were the deciding factor,” Hope said. “Everything you said made sense.”
“You were so against doing it before,” Dylan said. “What’s the real reason?”
Hope looked out the window. “Something the doctor said.”
“And that was . . .”
“Dr. Dello Russo said you have to take total care of me for twenty-four hours after the surgery,” Hope said.
“Haven’t I been doing that?” Dylan asked.
“Not on a Tuesday night,” Hope said. “You have not been out of my sight, pun intended, since three o’clock Friday. I will have this surgery done tomorrow. That means I will be with you through Wednesday evening, a total of over one hundred and twenty consecutive hours with you.”
“It has seemed like such a long time,” Dylan said. “One hundred and twenty hours!”
“I can still do surgery on you with my eyes closed,” Hope said. “Be careful how you talk to a woman about to have her eyes cut open.”
Early Tuesday morning, after a nervous cab ride with no kissing, Hope gripped the skin off Dylan’s hand as she sat in a reclining chair, Dr. Dello Russo and a nurse prepping instruments and machines around her.
“Is it okay if he stays?” Hope asked the doctor.
“Sure,” Dr. Dello Russo said, “but he will have to sit over there.” He pointed to a chair a few feet away.
Hope reluctantly released Dylan’s hand, and he sat in the chair.
“Are you excited?” Dylan asked.
That’s not the word I’m feeling. Mortified. Terrified. Petrified.
“I am,” Dylan said. “I wouldn’t miss seeing this for all the world.”
“Ha,” Hope said. “Dr. Dello Russo, get this man out of my sight.”
Dr. Dello Russo chuckled. “I have heard that one before.” He removed Hope’s glasses. “Say good-bye to your glasses.”
“Bye,” Hope whispered.
“Are you ready?” Dr. Dello Russo asked.
No. “Yes.”
Dr. Dello Russo first numbed Hope’s eyes with several drops of solution. Once Hope had no feeling in her eyes, the nurse cleaned Hope’s eyes thoroughly before using lid speculums to keep her eyelids open.
“Are you okay?” the nurse asked.
No. “I’m fine.”
Then came the suction.
What was blurry before became blurrier. Hello, fuzzy world. Miss me?
“What do you see, Dylan?” Hope asked.
“I’m watching your eye on the monitor,” Dylan said, “and it is the biggest brown eye on earth. It looks like a planet. Planet Hope. No, it looks more like the rings of a tree.”
Planet Hope. The Hope’s Eye Tree.
“Let us begin,” Dr. Dello Russo said.
It was good that Hope couldn’t see or feel the doctor’s scalpel.
Dr. Dello Russo cut a round flap in Hope’s right cornea, then told her to stare at a light. A moment later he said, “We’re reshaping your right cornea now.”
Hope didn’t feel a thing. Is the laser on? Is this the surgery? Shouldn’t there be smoke?
A minute later, Dr. Dello Russo replaced the flap he cut and secured a shield over her right eye.
After he repeated the entire procedure with her left eye, Hope felt the reclining chair raising her slightly.
“I’m done?” Hope asked.
“Yes,” Dr. Dello Russo said. “I will see you in twenty-four hours.”
Now he’s making jokes.
“What about the other thing,” Dylan said. “What about the lattice degeneration?”
Dylan, let’s just go. I don’t like this darkness.
“We will worry about that later,” Dr. Dello Russo said. “Now see this woman home.”
He’s still making jokes!
Dylan helped Hope from the chair and placed her hand on his elbow.
“Blind woman walking,” she whispered, her heart racing.
“We’ll take it slow,” Dylan said.
Hope grasped his elbow with her other hand as well. “I’m scared,” she whispered.
“I won’t let you out of my sight,” Dylan said.
Hope wished she could see so she could hit him somewhere soft.
After a relatively curse-free, horn-free cab ride to her apartment, and after a dizzying walk up the stairs to the second floor, Dylan led Hope to the kitchen table and seated her in a chair.
“I’d rather lie down,” Hope said.
“You haven’t eaten yet today,” he said, somewhere to her right.
“I am kind of hungry.” She felt the coolness of the table in front of her. “Where’s the food?”
“I’m feeding you,” Dylan said. “Open wide.”
This could get very sticky.
For the next half hour, Hope’s sense of taste went into overdrive. Dylan fed her grapes and apple slices, pieces of a cheese omelet, and a piece of toast soaked in butter. For “dessert,” he fed her a mini Milky Way bar with his lips.
It was the best breakfast Hope had ever eaten.
Dylan led her to the washroom, where he reluctantly allowed her to brush her own teeth and take care of her own business, and then he carried her to the bed, where she allowed him to remove all of her clothes.
“We’re going to play a game,” Dylan said. “It’s called ‘Body Part Identification,’ and you are the star.”
“I am going to like this game,” Hope whispered. Very much.
“First, I will touch you in certain places,” Dylan said. “You must correctly identify these places or you will lose points, and if you earn enough points to go to the bonus round, I will have you touching some of my places. Do you feel up to it?”
“Just feel me up, Mr. Healy,” Hope said.
Hope immediately felt his finger circling her navel.
“What’s this?” he asked.
“My ombilic,” Hope whispered.
“Correct,” Dylan said. “I think.”
Hope felt two fingers tracing a path from her knee to her sexy derriere.
“Please identify.”
“Mes cuisses,” Hope whispered.
“Wrong answer,” Dylan said. “The correct answer is your silky, sexy thighs.”
“Oh, I knew that one,” Hope said, snapping a finger. A moment later, she felt two hot hands caressing her breasts gently and teasing her nipples to hardness.
“And these?”
Oh, that feels so nice. “Mes seins et mamelons,” Hope whispered.
“You’re only half right,” Dylan said. “They are melons.”
They’re getting there. My bras have been noticeably tighter. She soon felt his unmistakable lips on hers. “Mes lèvres,” she whispered before he could ask. She felt his tongue moving down between her breasts, his hair tickling her nipples, his tongue stopping briefly at her navel before lingering much lower.
“Mon clitoris,” she whispered.
She whispered this for the next fifteen minutes, and at times, she felt a stirring, a tingle, an echo of a feeling she once used to have. I know I am close to a breakthrough. It won’t be long now. I’m not going to cry.
“Let me feel you now,” she whispered.
“You’ve earne
d your way to the bonus round,” Dylan said.
Yay! She heard a zipper. She heard a sigh. She felt something large, full, and hot in her hand. “Is that your forearm?”
“No.”
She squeezed gently. “Your leg?”
“No.”
She squeezed it harder. “Your foot?”
“No.”
“Ah,” Hope said. “Then it must be mon pénis.”
“Yes.”
“Je veux que vous couvriez votre pénis avec la gelée K-Y et me fassiez l’amour maintenant,” she said, widening her legs to welcome him.
Dylan didn’t have to be told—in any language—twice.
Hope sat again in the reclining chair.
Hope again gripped the skin off Dylan’s hand.
“Keep your eyes closed until I tell you to open them,” Dr. Dello Russo said.
She felt the shields leaving her eyelids and something like a wet wipe removing the crust around her eyes.
“Okay,” Dr. Dello Russo said. “You may feel sand or grit, and the lights may appear as crosses to you, especially when it is dark. You may open your eyes now.”
Hope opened her eyes. After an initial panic because of the darkness in the room, Hope turned her head from side to side. I can see! Wow. I have high-definition vision! Oh my God, I can see!
“What time is it?” Dr. Dello Russo asked.
Hope focused on a round clock at least ten feet away. “Nine-twelve and twenty-six seconds.” Yes!
“Please read the letters on the ninth line of the chart directly in front of you,” Dr. Dello Russo said.
Hope focused and read line ten instead, and she read the letters flawlessly. “I don’t take directions very well,” Hope said.
“Look to your left,” Dr. Dello Russo said. “Do you recognize this man?”
Hope turned her head to look at Dylan. Time to play a little trick. “No. Who’s he?”
Dylan’s eyes widened as he stood. “Come on, Hope, stop playing.”
“Who are you?” Hope asked, shrinking away from him.
Dylan reached for her hand, but Hope pulled it out of his reach.
“Hope, it’s me, Dylan. Don’t you recognize me?”
Hope widened her eyes. “Dylan?” She looked at Dr. Dello Russo and the nurse. “He’s Dylan?”
They nodded.
Hope turned slowly back to Dylan. “Dylan, is it really you?”
“Yes,” Dylan whispered.
“Oh my God, Dylan!” Hope yelled.
“What?” Dylan said, his eyes as big as planets.
“You’re white!” Hope shouted.
Dr. Dello Russo and the nurse laughed loudly.
Dylan did not.
NOVEMBER 19
Only 35 more shopping days until Christmas . . .
Chapter 20
As soon as Hope walked into Thrifty the next day after five days’ absence, she realized that she didn’t need to come. Kiki, wearing a rainbow-colored smock, was already cranking out copies in the back.
“You should be home resting from your surgery,” Kiki said, rushing to the counter. “You did not need to come in.”
“Habit,” Hope said.
“We must break you of this bad habit,” Kiki said. “How did it go?”
“I can see,” Hope said. “Perfectly.”
Kiki posed. “Do I look even more beautiful?”
Hope laughed. “I can certainly see more of you.”
“And this is a good thing.” Kiki tightened the smock around her. “You like?”
“Sure beats mine,” Hope said.
“Really,” Kiki said, “you do not need to be here. You should be in your bed.”
“It’s okay,” Hope said. “I will take off tomorrow.”
“You rest and work the register today,” Kiki said. “I have got the hang of these machines.”
Hope cut her eyes to the office door. “What about . . .”
Kiki shook her head. “I have banished him to the self-serve machine.” She smiled. “I do not wish to be mean, but you look so much sexier without your glasses.”
“Thank you,” Hope said. “I feel sexier.”
“And you look . . . fuller,” Kiki said. “Your face. It is not as severe.”
“I have been eating very well,” Hope said.
Hope walked around the counter and saw more than two dozen bags with “Odd Ducks” written on the work orders. Dylan must have been sending these to the mainframe all week. “Kiki, did you do all these?”
“Of course I did,” Kiki said. “You taught me well. Miss Aniya’s cards are still doing well, and those sexy cards are so daring, and yet they are selling very well. I have a suggestion. You must come up with something for two women, yes? Do not leave us out at Valentine’s Day.”
Hope blinked, still feeling some grit in her left eye. She put some lubricating drops into her eyes. “It’s sort of out of my experience, Kiki.”
“No, it is not,” Kiki said. “Do you and Dylan kiss?”
“Yes.”
“Do you and Dylan taste each other?”
A lot. “Yes.”
“Do you and Dylan cuddle, spoon, and massage?”
“Of course.”
Kiki shrugged. “I have just described being with a woman.” She took a card from a bag. “This one says, ‘I will stick with you through thick and thin.’ Simply draw two women on your cover and that will work. Even ‘Get on the stick’ can work, yes? We do occasionally stick it to each other. If you do this, you will open up a whole new market.”
It wouldn’t be too hard to do. “Noelle” is going to be on all teams, now. “I will. That’s a great idea.”
“What can I say?” Kiki said. “I still know best. It is good to have you back.” Kiki started another order. “Justin has not been out of the office for more than a few minutes since you’ve been gone.” She stepped back and winked. “If you were to disappear, he would never know. Go down early to Dylan. Take him lunch for a change.”
“I would,” Hope said, “but they’re on a field trip to the Prospect Park Zoo today. We are going out to celebrate my new eyes this evening. I’d love to leave early so I can go prepare.”
“You go,” Kiki said.
Hope nodded. “You seem to have everything under control. How many of Aniya’s cards have you done?”
“Over four thousand,” Kiki said. “There was not enough room out here so I had to put them in the storeroom. When will Dylan be by to pay for them and get them out of here?”
Hope smiled. He won’t. I will. Hope pulled the Odd Duck credit card from her purse, and then she hesitated. Twelve orders out here, over three thousand dollars’ worth in the storeroom. Does this little card have enough on it to pay for it all? It should. Let’s find out. She handed the card to Kiki. “You ring it up. I can’t watch.” Be good to us, PayPal. Please.
Kiki totaled the damage, her eyes popping. “A little over four thousand dollars.”
Hope nodded. “Swipe it.”
The charge went through without a hitch.
“How much are you two making?” Kiki asked.
We’re up to at least fifteen thousand dollars each, but I can’t share that with Kiki. “A lot.” I need to get these cards home to my place. “Kiki, I’m getting a cab now and taking all these orders off your hands.”
“A good idea,” Kiki said. “I will help you.”
A cab ride and three trips up her steps later, Hope was in her kitchen, surrounded by bags of cards. Maybe Dylan will want to package and stuff them here since they’re already here and there are too many of them for him to carry home. She sighed. He’ll just get another cab. I don’t have the addresses, I don’t have the labels, I don’t have the envelopes, I don’t have a printer . . . Still, he’ll have to come up to my apartment on a Thursday night, and I will do everything in my power to keep him here all night.
So I will have to dress sexy for this celebration dinner.
She opened her wardrobe and frowned.
I only have one somewhat sexy dress, what my mother would call “dan dan.” This is what I must wear.
She held up a Marc Jacobs silk navy-striped lamé dress with a ballerina neckline and self-tie belt. I think I wore it once to some forgettable business banquet or other with Odell. I spent far too much for it, but I was stupid then. She modeled in front of the skinny mirror on the washroom door. I might fill it. She put it on. Okay. Nothing spectacular. It makes my arms and legs look so much longer than they are.
She slipped on her only pair of black flats. Odell was so upset my flats didn’t match my dress. The horror! Damn, Odell, you spend a thousand dollars on a single piece of clothing. There isn’t much money left for matching shoes, you know? Hope frowned. I don’t want to wear this dress. It reminds me too much of Oh-Hell, and it probably even smells like him. Dylan might appreciate it, but...
She stood sideways in front of the mirror and stuck out a hip, pursing her lips. I could be a model. I’m bony enough, and I certainly have the legs. Not having a pinkie toenail might be a problem—
Her phone rang.
Whack purred.
Hope stepped into the kitchen. “So now the phone makes you purr.” She picked up the receiver. “Hello?”
“There you are,” Dylan said. “I called Thrifty, and Kiki said you had left, but she wouldn’t tell me why. Are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” Hope said. I love that he is concerned for me. “I decided to come home early.” With over five thousand greeting cards to lure you into spending a Thursday night with me. “How’s the zoo?”
“Fun but cold,” Dylan said. “Wish you could be here.”
“So do I,” Hope said. “Have you heard anything about Aniya?”
“I called and talked to her mother this morning,” Dylan said. “She’s doing great. She’s happy you can see now.”
“What did you tell her?” Hope asked.
“Just that you had to be blind to go out with a man like me,” Dylan said.
“You’re funny,” Hope said. “How is tonight going to work? I’m obviously not at work. Where are we eating? And what should I wear?”
“I will be by your apartment at six-thirty sharp,” Dylan said. “We’re eating Italian, and that’s all I’m going to say. Dress any way you like.”