“I'm not sure my sister could manage all those stairs. But she might. It wouldn't be as easy as an apartment, especially with the kitchen in the basement. But I'd really like to see it. I like everything else about it.” And it was still within walking distance of Chris. Not quite as close as her current apartment, but close enough.
“Is your sister handicapped?” the realtor asked, and Sabrina caught her breath. It was the first time she'd been asked, but yes, now she was.
“Yes,” she said, measuring her words. “She's blind.” It was hard saying the word.
“That shouldn't be a problem,” the agent said matter-of-factly. “My cousin is blind. He lives in a fourth-floor walk-up in Brooklyn, and he manages fine. Does she have a seeing-eye dog?”
“Uh… not at the moment, but she might.” She didn't want to tell her that it had just happened only days before. It was too hard to talk about.
“I'm sure he wouldn't mind. He has an English sheepdog, and I think his wife had a dachshund. He didn't say anything about not wanting dogs. He just wants good tenants who'll pay the rent and take care of his house.” She knew Sabrina was an attorney, financially solvent, and had had good references before. That was all they needed to know. “When can you see it?”
“Not till Monday.” They were taking Annie's bandages off the next day, and it was going to be a traumatic weekend. Sabrina needed to be around. “I could come into town for a few hours.”
“I hope it holds till then.” Sabrina hated the way real estate agents did that. They always made you feel as though you were about to miss the deal of your life if you didn't snatch it up within the hour.
“I might be able to get in on Sunday afternoon, but not before that.” She didn't want to leave Annie the day her bandages came off. There was no way she was going to abandon her now. They had forbidden all the nurses on the floor to discuss Annie's blindness in her presence.
“I guess Monday will be all right. I think he said he was going away for the weekend, so no one else can get in to see it. Ten o'clock?”
“That sounds fine.” She gave Sabrina the address, and she said she'd check to see if there was anything else before they met on Monday, but she said again that if Sabrina didn't mind a brownstone, she thought this might be the one. And the price was so good. It didn't have the security most young women wanted, with a doorman, but you couldn't have everything, she pointed out, and then added that houses and apartments were like romance. You either fell in love or you didn't. She hoped Sabrina would.
She told Tammy and Candy about it when she got off the phone. Their project was taking form, if the house was really any good. And it sounded perfect. It was almost too good to be true.
“Wait until you see it before you get excited,” Tammy warned her. “I must have seen forty houses before I found mine. You can't believe how awful some people's houses are, or the conditions in which they're willing to live. The black hole of Calcutta was a palazzo compared to some of the hovels I saw. I was really lucky to find mine.”
She loved her house, had decorated it beautifully, and kept it in immaculate condition, for herself and Juanita. She had a lot more room than she needed, a lovely view, and fireplaces in every room. She had bought some pretty antiques and wonderful art, and although the house wasn't finished, it was a pleasure to come home to at night, even if she was alone. Like Candy, her income allowed her to live in a wonderful place and buy pretty things. Sabrina lived on a tighter budget than her sisters. And Annie lived on a shoe-string, out of respect for her parents, since she had almost no income except for the occasional painting she sold. She had simple needs. And none of them could imagine Annie making any kind of income now that she was blind. There was nothing she was trained for except art. Painting hadn't been her hobby, it was her life. She could have taught art history, because of her master's degree, but Sabrina couldn't imagine that blind teachers were in high demand. She just didn't know. This was a whole new world for her, and it would be for Annie too. Aside from the physical aspects, depression was her greatest fear for her sister now, and all too real. She couldn't imagine it being otherwise.
All three girls thought the brownstone sounded like a good possibility, and even Chris was enthused. He had never loved Sabrina's apartment-she had taken it because it was close to his, the building was clean, and it was cheap. But it had absolutely zero charm. The brownstone sounded much more interesting, even if somewhat impractical and a little quaint.
“Annie ought to be able to manage the stairs once she gets used to it. I think there are things you can do to make places easier to get around for people who don't have their sight. There are probably a lot of tricks we can all learn to help her out.” It was new to all of them, and Sabrina thought he was sweet to say it.
Sabrina mentioned the house to her father that night, and he thought what they were planning to do for Annie was wonderful. He would worry about her a lot less knowing that she was living with two of her sisters, especially Sabrina, since she was considerably more responsible than Candy, and nearly fourteen years older. Candy was still a kid in many ways, and hadn't grown up yet. Sabrina was someone they could all count on, and so was Tammy. Unfortunately, she wouldn't be there, but promised to try and visit often. With a fourth bedroom in the house, if they took it, she'd have that option.
All three sisters left for the hospital at ten o'clock the next morning, with a fair amount of trepidation. The eye surgeon was due at ten-thirty. None of them had had the guts to prepare Annie for what was coming. The doctor in charge of her case had said to leave it to the surgeon. He was used to dealing with these things and would know what to tell her, and how. They already knew that she would have to have special training. She could go away to a rehab place for blind people for several months, or she could do it on an outpatient basis. What she needed now were life skills adapted to her blindness, and eventually maybe, if she was amenable, a seeing-eye dog. Knowing how Annie hated dogs, none of her sisters could imagine her doing that. She always claimed she thought dogs were noisy, neurotic, and dirty. A seeing-eye dog might be different, but that was still a long way off. She had a lot of very basic things to learn first.
At least Annie didn't have long months or years of surgeries ahead of her, Sabrina said on the way to the hospital, looking for the bright side. But other than that, there was none. A blind artist was about as depressing as it could get, and they were all sure that Annie would feel that way too. She had lost her career, and everything she had trained for, as well as her mother. She had been torturing herself all week about what she should have done in the accident, and how it might have been different if she could have grabbed the steering wheel from her mother, but there hadn't been time. She had classic survivor guilt, and her sisters told her over and over, to no avail, that it wouldn't have made a difference. It all happened too fast. They assured her again and again that no one blamed her, but she clearly blamed herself.
Annie was lying in bed quietly when they walked into the room. Candy was wearing short shorts, a thin white T-shirt, and silver sandals, and heads had turned when she walked down the hall. She looked incredible, although Sabrina had complained about the see-through T-shirt. She didn't think every worker, doctor, and visitor in the hospital needed a clear view of her sister's nipples.
“Oh, don't be so uptight. In Europe everyone goes topless,” Candy grumbled.
“This isn't Europe.” She went topless at their pool, which embarrassed Chris and her father, but Candy was oblivious to people seeing her body. She had made a career of showing it off.
“What's Candy wearing?” Annie asked with a grin. She could hear them crabbing at each other as they walked in, and Tammy had put her two cents in, saying that if she had paid as much for her breasts as Candy had, she'd be selling tickets and holding viewings to amortize the investment.