Читать книгу Soul Caress - Kim Shaw - Страница 10

Blindness, whether temporary or permanent, was not a condition to which Kennedy found herself able to snap her fingers and adjust to. Waking up, after twenty-eight years of living a full and functional life, to darkness, had sent Kennedy into depression. She oscillated between fighting the feelings of despair and giving in to them completely. All the time she questioned why this had happened to her. Was her current situation a result of something she’d done or some offense against nature she’d unwittingly committed?

She found herself only going through the motions of the rehabilitation regimen the doctors and physical therapists had set out for her. Essentially, she had given up on ever having anything that resembled the satisfying life she used to lead.

The team of professionals who were working to reconstruct her life included a psychologist, Dr. Goodhall. Dr. Goodhall was warm and engaging yet she asked tough questions. Questions that forced Kennedy to think about things she preferred not to dwell on. Kennedy didn’t want to probe into the innermost regions of her sentiments, especially because she was struggling to hold the fragile pieces of her feelings together.

Dr. Goodhall suggested that she allow people to be her comfort and source of strength while she dealt with the difficult transitions that lay ahead. This was a suggestion to which Kennedy objected vehemently. As far as Kennedy was concerned, not her parents, other family members nor anyone could pacify her. Furthermore, she could not take one second of her mother’s theatrical hysteria nor anyone’s pity. She had hit an emotional rock bottom and contrary to popular belief, her misery did not want any company.

Unfortunately, being a resident at Stillwater did not afford her much solitude. There was a steady stream of staff members with whom she had to interact, countless appointments and therapy sessions and then there was Malik.

He arrived knocking at her door every morning at eight o’clock sharp and even when she reported that she did not feel like going out, he quietly insisted that she join him. He talked as if they were going out on a date instead of out for a walk around the grounds of a facility for people with disabilities. In spite of herself, it was his subtle charm that coaxed her out of her room every day without fail.

“Malik, what do you do when you’re not playing caddy to damaged invalids like me?” Kennedy asked one afternoon after Malik had parked her wheelchair off the path that led into the gardens.

“Damaged invalids?” He laughed. “I don’t see any damaged invalids around here.”

“You know what I mean. Let’s face it, this place isn’t exactly crawling with healthy people. So you do this all day long…it’s got to be depressing as hell.”

“Not at all. Actually, I kinda like spending time here. I mean, in this place you’ve got all kinds of people facing some of the most difficult challenges of their lives and many of them do it without complaint. Now take folks who have their health and the use of all their faculties out there. They curse and grumble about everything from their Starbucks not having enough sugar to a traffic light that takes too long to turn green.”

Kennedy thought about what he’d said, wondering if she had been one of those people before her accident. While she didn’t think that was an accurate description of herself, she did realize how much in her life she had taken for granted. She could not remember the last sunset she’d seen, having spent the past few months and years locked inside of Morgan Stanley’s offices until long after dusk every night working away like any good corporate soldier.

“That didn’t really answer your question, did it?” Malik grinned. “All right, well, basically I’m not a partying type of guy. So when I’m not working here, I spend time at bookstores, getting my workout on at the gym…watching a good flick on television. That’s pretty much it.”

“Oh, I doubt that’s it. What about dating? Don’t tell me you’re a monk or something?”

Malik laughed.

“No, I’m not a monk. I just don’t date a lot. Bad breakup a while back, so I guess you could say that I’m just being cautious. There’s a lot of nutballs running around out there disguised as Miss America, you know. What about you? I know there’s got to a whole bunch of guys chasing after you like groupies.”

“Groupies?” Kennedy laughed. “Hardly. It’s just me, my job and, oh, can’t forget about my goldfish…Lucy and Ricardo.”

Malik studied Kennedy’s face for a moment, noting the tension that rested there and in her neck and shoulders. In the days that he’d spent caring for her, he’d come to realize that one of her greatest flaws was also her greatest asset. She was incredibly strong and resilient, yet she had no idea how much of those qualities she possessed. She thought that she’d crumbled beneath the weight of her personal tragedy and yet all he could see was a woman who was incredibly determined to hold on to her life. Kennedy’s only problem was that she believed that she could do it alone.

“Goldfish, huh?”

“Yeah, my neighbor, Victoria, is feeding them while I’m here. I might tell her to keep them if…”

Kennedy’s voiced trailed off.

Malik crouched down beside Kennedy’s chair and plucked a delicate white flower from the bush in front of them. He moved the fragrant blossom up, stopping just beneath her nose. When the scent reached her, she smiled, reaching out to touch it. Her hand brushed against Malik’s and a warm flush coursed through his veins.

“The corydalis is one of the longest blooming flowers in the world. People look at its ferny foliage and graceful flowers and doubt its fortitude. But this is a plant that will find a home in cracks in rocks, on slopes in woodlands and along paths. After that, the corydalis self-sows wherever it can and regenerates for years. In essence, no matter what you do to this little guy, he keeps going, kind of like a certain little lady I know,” he said, releasing the flower to her outstretched hand.

Kennedy accepted the flower and raised her other hand to capture Malik’s fingers. As she laced slender fingers around his large hand, a slow smile formed on her mouth.

“Marci, the visual therapist, keeps telling me that there are so many other ways to see other than with your eyes,” Kennedy said. “What do you think I see right now?”

“I don’t know. Tell me,” Malik asked, his heart caught in his throat.

“I see a man whose heart is gold and whose spirit is benevolent. I see…a very dear friend.”

They sat in the garden for a while longer, each lost in a moment that was profoundly peaceful and nourishing to each of them, for very different reasons.

The days morphed quickly into weeks and without even being aware of a change in her mood and perception, Kennedy began to look forward to waking up in the mornings. Even the grueling physical therapy she endured was a welcomed part of her daily routine and she pushed herself to get stronger.

The cast was removed from her leg and replaced with a thinner, more flexible one. To her astonishment, she had extremely limited strength and mobility in that leg. Everything she tried to do hurt, including the stretching exercises that the therapist put her through twice a day for a half an hour at a time. By the time she finished working out, Kennedy was a sweaty, teary-eyed mess, but that did not deter her from coming back for more.

Instead of giving in to the desperation and hopelessness that had nearly crippled her since the accident, Kennedy had now found a dogged determination in getting better. There was no doubt that the change in her mood was partially due to Malik Crawford.

They began to spend a great deal of time together. Malik visited her during his hours on duty, as well as in his leisure time. He brought sandwiches from the deli and shared his lunch break with her, either out on the grounds or, during inclement weather, seated on the floor in her room for an indoor picnic. He knew that the unspoken rules of Stillwater stated that client/staff interactions outside of caregiving should be limited, but he could not help himself. He had seen how depressed and discouraged Kennedy was when she’d first arrived and for some inexplicable reason, he felt an overwhelming sense of responsibility to her.

Kennedy was unlike any other client he’d ever worked with or any other woman he’d ever encountered. There was a strength and inner beauty that attracted him, called out to his spirit, and he could not ignore it. Still, he knew that he had to be discreet and without saying anything specific to her, Kennedy understood the same. In the presence of others, they were client and patient. Alone, as they strolled along the winding paths or sat in her room tossing grapes into the air and trying to catch them in their mouths, they laughed and talked, sharing confidences and becoming friends.

With pride she boasted about her family and the accomplishments of her ancestors. Malik learned that Kennedy came from one of the most influential clans in North Carolina, with a staunch reputation dating back to the early abolitionist movement. He was enthralled by the way her face lit up as she shared with him stories of firsts in her family—the first black banker in a town, the first black store-owner in a city and the first black lawyer in the state. Malik couldn’t help but be equally impressed by her family legacy. It also made him uncomfortable. Secretly, he wished that he had the same stories of significant successes to tell about his family tree, but he knew of no such accounts to share. His reservations were shattered, however, in the face of Kennedy’s interested prodding and gentle sweetness, and he felt compelled to share what he did know about his family.

Malik’s parents, Fred and Joyce Crawford, spent their careers as blue-collar workers. The Crawfords raised their family—Malik, an older brother, Malcolm, and an older sister, LaToya—in D.C.’s rough Northwest district. Malik was proud that his parents had managed to stay together for thirty-five years and counting.

While Kennedy talked about summers spent traveling abroad, Malik laughed as he remembered his summer days spent splashing around in front of the fire hydrant on the corner of his block. The more they talked, the more they realized that they had very little in common in terms of their upbringing and lifestyles. Yet they also realized that that fact made them all the more interested in one another.

For Kennedy, spending time with Malik helped her to focus on something other than the devastation the accident had caused to her life. He made her forget to find time to cry each day. He made her remember all the things that she should smile about. She found being with Malik easier than talking to anyone else, quite possibly because he did not know her before the accident. Her parents always talked about when she got better and after her eyesight came back, as if there was no room for any other possibility. They were constantly reminding her of her job at Morgan Stanley, all of her accomplishments and the bright future she had in front of her. To her, their words were an insinuation that she could control her recovery, and that they expected her to bring about a positive outcome. Nothing less would be acceptable to the Daniels.