A Perfect Life: A Novel (10 page)

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Authors: Danielle Steel

BOOK: A Perfect Life: A Novel
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“She has to eat,” Blaise said, looking worried. The sandwiches were delicious, and they devoured them while they talked. She was grateful that he’d brought the food back. Salima had eaten very
little breakfast that morning and she had to be responsible about what she ate, and not skip meals. She had only eaten the bare minimum required for her since the day before, when her mother arrived, she was too sad.

“She’ll eat more when she’s hungry,” he said calmly. “There’s too much going on. It will do her good to get home tomorrow. The funeral will be rough.” He quietly brought meals to her for the rest of the day. Salima ate them but never said a word to him.

The funeral the next day was worse than rough. When the three of them went to the tiny church just outside town, all the teachers from Caldwell were there, and Abby’s childhood friends, and her mother was pushed into the church in a wheelchair, sobbing uncontrollably, as Abby’s casket sat in front of the altar, and the church was filled with flowers. Blaise led Salima into a pew, and they sat down. The priest spoke glowingly of Abby, he had known her since she was a child, and you could hear people crying all over the church. Salima sobbed throughout, until the moment came when Salima had agreed to sing the Ave Maria, and Blaise led her to the organ. She stood pale and shaking and tore everyone’s heart out with her incredibly pure voice.

With Blaise’s help, she stopped to speak to Abby’s mother on the way out. Salima hugged her when she thanked her tearfully for singing, and all the two women could do was hold each other and cry. And then Blaise led her back to the car. She had to sit in the backseat amid her clothes and bags of belongings piled everywhere. Simon slid into the passenger seat but offered to drive.

“It’s okay. I’m fine,” Blaise said quietly. It was noon when they set off for New York, after the funeral for the young woman Salima had
loved so much. The silence in the car was deafening, all you could hear was Salima crying as they got onto the highway and headed south. It was going to be a very long three hours, and a much longer three months.

Simon was silent, as he stared out the window at the scarlet trees, thinking of Megan, and Blaise turned on the radio to drown out the sound of Salima’s sobs. She paid no attention to what station she put on, she was vaguely aware that it was some kind of gospel music, and they drove on, all three of them lost in thought. Blaise was panicking over the next few months. So far Simon had done nothing but stand discreetly aside, while Salima clung to her mother’s arm. She wanted no one else.

As she was driving, Blaise was thinking about the work she had to do when she got back, when there was a soft sound from the back seat. Salima had recognized one of the gospel songs, and was singing softly. Her voice grew as the choir joined the soloist, and Salima hit all the high notes with ease as Simon turned in his seat and stared at her. He had never heard a voice like hers in his life. Her rendition of the Ave Maria at Abby’s funeral had been touching and beautiful but more subdued, but in the car with Simon and her mother, she let her voice soar as a form of release. She sang the next two songs with the radio as well. She liked listening to gospel music sometimes, and she and Abby had kidded around as Salima let her voice fly to the rafters, just as she did now. It was a relief of sorts from the sadness she felt, and then she fell silent again. Simon was in awe of what he had just heard.

“I didn’t know you can sing like that,” he said in amazement.
And then he vaguely remembered that she had been in the choir and dropped out when she started college.

“I used to be in the choir,” she confirmed his recollection. “Miss Mayberry is tone deaf,” she said wryly, and he laughed.

“That explains some of the performances we’ve had at school. Have you ever taken lessons?” She shook her head in answer. “Maybe you should.” At Eric’s request, he had called the community college for her that morning, and informed them of what had happened at the school and that they were closing for three months. They had agreed to let her follow a course of independent study for credit while she was in New York. “That might be a fun way to pick up credit for college. It would be a lot more fun than a math class.”

“I don’t want to go to school,” she said, and Blaise could sense that she didn’t like him. She wasn’t sure about him herself. He seemed very confident and self-assured. He was polite, but he was a big presence, and because he was a man and sure of himself, Blaise felt like he was in her face, and she guessed that Salima did too.

He had opinions about everything and he wasn’t afraid to voice them. And he had already said to Blaise in Eric’s office that he thought Salima should become more independent, now that Abby was gone. Blaise didn’t want him pushing her too far, particularly now. And she suspected that Salima would be mourning the gentle young teacher for a long time. Simon was already trying to draw her out. No one in the car said a word for the next three hours. Blaise felt as if it were the longest drive of her life, and she was relieved when she turned to glance at Salima and saw that she had
fallen asleep. She was exhausted from the emotions of the past two days, and constant crying.

“She’ll be all right,” Simon said softly, trying to reassure her, and Blaise looked as if she didn’t believe him.

“It’s going to take a long time,” Blaise said sadly, wondering if they would ever find someone like Abby. Simon was not what she had in mind, as a teacher maybe, but not as the kind of caretaker Abby had been, nurturing and loving, and protecting Salima from everything. Simon was very much a man, and seemed like a bull in a china shop to her. She wasn’t looking forward to living with him for the next three months, and hoped that Eric would find someone else. She had asked him to continue looking for a woman.

“We need to keep her busy,” Simon responded, looking out the window as they crossed the bridge into upper Manhattan. He hadn’t been there in a year, and hadn’t realized how much he’d missed it. He had grown up in Boston, while his father taught at Harvard, but he didn’t get there often either. He hardly ever left the school, and for the past three years, he’d been spending all his free time with Megan, lately in cheap motels. It depressed him to think about it. He suddenly realized the seamy life he had been living with her, while he waited for her to leave her husband. And he strongly suspected now that she never would. He was grateful for the opportunity to come to New York, and take a break. He was still thinking about her and how much he already missed her, while Blaise pulled up in front of their building. Simon was staring out the window, with a blank look, still thinking of Meg.

“We’re here,” Blaise said firmly, to catch his attention, and Salima stirred in the backseat, as the doorman began unloading their
bags. He recognized Salima immediately but had never seen the man before. They looked like a motley crew, entering the building a few minutes later with all of Salima’s things, as she held on to her mother’s arm for guidance, after Blaise asked the doorman to take the car to the garage. And without prodding, Blaise saw Simon tip the doorman, who tipped his hat to him. She was pleased he had thought of it himself. “Thank you,” she said to him, and Simon looked startled. To him, it had been the obvious thing to do. To Blaise, it was evidence that he had been well brought up and did the right thing. At least he knew how to tip. It was one thing less for her to think about, and he made himself useful. He carried all the bags into the apartment for them as Salima felt her way around, getting acclimated again. She was far less familiar and at ease here than she was at school—she didn’t come home often.

Blaise showed Simon to Salima’s room, so he could bring her bags in. There was hardly space for all of them in the small sunny room that was empty most of the time.

She pointed out her own suite then so he could carry her suitcase, and then she walked him into the kitchen and escorted him to one of the two tiny rooms behind it, the maids’ rooms they never used. Looking at his size, with his long legs, and the narrow bed, she suddenly realized how inadequate it was for him, but she had nothing else, except her own room and Salima’s.

“I’m sorry. I know this room is really small for you. We’re just not set up for guests.” And even less so for men, she almost added, but didn’t. But he looked perfectly content as he set down his two small bags and tossed his laptop case onto the bed. He never went anywhere without it.

“I must have been a monk in a past life. I don’t mind small spaces. My room at Caldwell isn’t much bigger than this,” he said with an easy smile, and she was relieved. At least he wasn’t demanding. She had expected him to have a fit when he saw the room. And now her housekeeper would have to sleep in the other room whenever Blaise went away, so there would be a woman in the house to help Salima bathe and dress.

“Thank you for being nice about it,” Blaise said quietly as they went back into the kitchen.

“Do you mind if I cook once in a while?” he asked as he looked around the fabulous kitchen. It was his dream come true.

“You don’t need to,” Blaise said, looking distracted. “My housekeeper leaves things we can heat up. I come home from work pretty late, and I don’t have time to cook. I usually just eat a salad when I’m alone, or don’t bother at all. And we can order in.” She wasn’t interested in his cooking. He was here to help Salima and nothing else. And he didn’t comment on what she said. He just nodded and followed her back to Salima’s room.

“Do you need some help hanging things up?” he asked her. Salima was sitting on her bed, looking glum. “We can put them in your closet by type and color. I can put Braille labels on the hangers for you. I brought my machine. Then you can pull them out on your own and dress yourself,” he said helpfully. Both women looked shocked.

“She doesn’t need to dress herself,” Blaise said with a look of disapproval. “My housekeeper will help her with that. And I’ll do it on the weekends.” They were already off to a bad start, but Simon looked undisturbed.

“Let’s label your toiletries at least, so you don’t get them mixed up and brush your teeth with the wrong stuff.” He sounded firm about that, and it made sense to Blaise, but Salima snapped at him immediately.

“Abby puts my toothpaste on the brush for me.” She didn’t tell him that sometimes Abby even brushed her teeth for her. She knew that would sound lame.

“I think you can do that yourself,” Simon said quietly, gently pushing her with his suggestion, and Salima didn’t like it, and neither did Blaise. The last thing she wanted was for him to upset Salima, and spark a war between the two of them.

Later, Blaise led him into her office off her bedroom, so he would know where to find her, since it was the room where she spent most of her time when she was home. And she looked him squarely in the eye the moment they were alone. “I think we need to get one thing clear right away. You’re not here to rock the boat. All we want to do is get Salima through this incredibly difficult time in her life, without the woman she loved and relied on, until she goes back to school. We’re not planning to reinvent the wheel.”

“I don’t think the wheel has been invented yet,” Simon said just as firmly, meeting her gaze. “Abby and I had very different views about things. Maybe it’s the difference between men and women, but I think being self-sufficient is key. Salima is nineteen years old, not two, and she needs to know how to take care of herself. What if she wants to live alone one day? She can’t stay at Caldwell forever. She needs to get ready for that day. And with Abby gone, this seems like the right time.”

“She’s never going to live alone,” Blaise said in an even stronger
tone. She had already provided for that. Salima would have a caretaker forever.

“You never know,” Simon said. “My brother said the same thing. He lived at home after his accident, for several years. My mother babied him, just as Abby did with Salima. Now he has a job, a wife, four children, and he takes care of them. Whatever she does, or however you provide for her, Salima still needs skills. And it will make her feel better about herself,” he insisted.

“She feels fine about herself. What she feels like shit about is losing Abby. Let’s try not to make it any worse.” Simon didn’t answer her, but he nodded, in order to keep the peace. And Blaise could tell that she hadn’t convinced him, which unnerved her. She felt as if she were swimming upstream in her own home, fighting the currents, and she didn’t like the feeling. He wasn’t at Caldwell anymore, he was in her apartment, and she expected her word to be law. And she was getting the strong feeling that Simon didn’t live by other people’s rules. He was courteous and considerate, but he definitely had his own ideas, and they weren’t hers.

He went to check on Salima then, and after a few minutes, she let him unpack for her, and she told him where she wanted her things. He noticed that her closets here at home were almost empty, and he realized how seldom she was there. Caldwell had become her home, and he wondered if Blaise was going to try to keep her there, or at a similar place once she got older. Simon thought that would be a tragedy for Salima, and a terrible waste. She had a bright mind, and was capable of far more than anyone expected of her, particularly Abby. He didn’t want to speak ill of the dead, and he had liked her, but he thought now that with time, she would
have crippled Salima. He was beginning to think that it was a blessing Abby was out of her life. And undeniably, everything he had in mind for her would be very different, and even painful at times to make the change from total dependency to freedom. And it was easy to see that Blaise wasn’t on board either. He would have to pull it off on his own. And he intended to try in the next three months. He wasn’t afraid to make waves. It would be for Salima’s good in the end, even if neither she nor her mother understood that.

He put Salima’s voice-activated computer on the desk and plugged it in. She could give it voice commands, and a mechanical voice would respond and read her any material she wanted. Blaise had always gotten her the most up-to-date aids available to assist her, and was constantly searching for new ones. Salima used a software program called OpenBook, with a scanner that read her mail and textbooks to her. And she had something called Oratio that allowed her to use a BlackBerry. Everything Salima had was state of the art, thanks to her mother, and she knew it. And Simon also noticed that she had an excellent stereo in her room. She had all the most expensive devices and aids, and advanced technology, but she still couldn’t brush her teeth alone. And Simon wanted to change that as soon as he could, for her sake.

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