Sisters

Chapter 10

The girls spent Thursday afternoon and Friday morning at the hospital with Annie. She was getting restless and her head still hurt, which was hardly surprising. A physical therapist came to work with her, and she broke down and cried several times about their mother. She still couldn't believe what had happened, and neither could they. But they were focusing their worries on her now. Within days, she would know that she was blind. The bandages were due to be taken off on Saturday. And all three of her sisters felt sick, thinking about the impact it would have on her. Reality was coming toward her with lightning speed.

Their father went to see her on Thursday night, and dropped by again while the girls were there on Friday morning. She thanked him for her mom's jewelry, she hadn't seen it yet, but she remembered the pieces that the girls described, and she liked them all. She was happy with the choices they had made on her behalf, and she had always loved her mother's fox coat. She said it would be fun to wear in Florence, because the winters were so cold, and Italian women wore a lot of fur. No one seemed to get upset about it there. She said she would have been nervous wearing it in the States.

She was anxious to know too when she could go back to Italy, and worried that she hadn't heard from Charlie. She had asked her sisters several times to put a call through for her. She had called him on his cell phone, and it always went straight to voice mail. She assumed he was in Pompeii with his friends, and maybe the reception was bad there. She didn't want to leave a message that her mother had died and she'd been in an accident, and worry him, but it was upsetting not being able to get hold of him for so long. It had only been a week. So much had happened since then. More than she could even imagine, since she didn't know yet about her sight. Sabrina never mentioned having spoken to him, of course, and her sisters were silent when she talked of him in glowing terms. It was all Sabrina could do not to snarl. But they said nothing to her.

Annie spent the whole day surrounded by her sisters. Candy's agency had called about a shoot in Paris, but she turned it down. She was staying home for now. She was in no mood to work, and neither were the others. Sabrina still had another week off the following week, having changed her vacation, and Tammy was going back to L.A. on Monday. She hated to leave, but had no choice. Fires were burning at her office, and they still had to find a replacement for their star, and alter the scripts once they did. It was going to be a knotty problem to work out, and she was in no mood to think about it now. All she could think about were her mother and Annie. It was going to be very hard being so far away, and leaving it all on Candy and Sabrina's shoulders. And she wanted to be there for Annie, and her father. Annie already knew that she was going to have to spend a couple of weeks at her father's home, convalescing. The doctors had told her that she needed to stick around till the end of the month, if all went well. They thought she could leave the hospital in another week. But she had no idea that when she did, she would be blind. She kept saying that she couldn't wait until they took the bandages off her eyes, and every time she said it, her sisters silently cried. When the bandages came off, Annie's world would still be dark, forevermore. It was a tragedy beyond words.

When they left the hospital late Friday afternoon, all three of her sisters looked tired. They had all agreed to be there the next day when the ophthalmologist came. When the bandages came off, Annie was going to feel that her entire life had come to an end. The others were all dreading it for her. And they talked about it with their father that night. They had agreed amongst themselves that he shouldn't be there. It was going to be too emotional for him. He had enough on his plate, adjusting to the loss of his wife.

When Sabrina walked into the kitchen of her parents' house, she saw two messages from the realtor she had called, and thought it was a hopeful sign. She called her back, and caught her just before she left her office for a weekend in the Hamptons.

“I've been trying to get hold of you all day,” she complained.

“I know. I'm sorry. It's a crazy time. My cell phone was turned off. I was visiting my sister in the hospital, and they don't let you keep it on. Did you find anything?” It seemed too soon, but at least they had gotten a start.

“I have two very interesting options for you. I think they're both excellent choices, depending on what you want. I wasn't sure. We didn't talk a lot about neighborhood, and sometimes people have very different ideas. I wasn't sure what you have in mind. All you said was East Side. How do you feel about downtown?”

“How far downtown?” Sabrina's office was in the fifties, on Park Avenue, and she and Chris lived within blocks of each other uptown, by design. Downtown would make it hard for him to just drop by, which he did often, even on the nights they weren't staying together. And when she worked late, he came over to walk the dog.

“I have a fabulous apartment in the old meatpacking district. It's a co-op, but the people aren't ready to move in yet. They want to sell their house first, so they're willing to rent it for six months or a year. It's in fabulous condition, since everything's brand-new. State-of-the-art equipment. It's a penthouse, and there's a pool and a health club in the building.”

“It sounds expensive,” Sabrina said practically, and the realtor didn't deny it.

“It is. But it's worth every penny.” She told Sabrina the price, and she whistled.

“Wow, that's way out of our range.” It worried her that the price was so high. Even with their father helping them, she couldn't come close to that, although maybe Candy could. But it was way beyond Sabrina's means. “I was hoping we could find something a lot more reasonable than that.”

“It's a very unusual place,” the realtor said, sounding miffed. But she wasn't easily daunted. “And they won't take dogs, by the way. They have white carpeting and brand-new floors.” Sabrina smiled.

“Now, I feel better. We have dogs. Small ones, of course,” she said, so as not to alarm her. They'd have to hide Beulah under a bush somewhere. She was short-legged, but certainly not small. “But I guess that rules us out of the meatpacking district apartment, whatever the price.”

“Absolutely. They're not flexible on that. The place is just too new. I have something else though. It's kind of the opposite end of the spectrum, and a whole different mood. The one downtown is very white and airy, and everything is fabulous and new. The one uptown has a lot of charm.” Uh-oh, Sabrina thought to herself, and not so fabulous and falling apart? But maybe a more reasonable price. They couldn't go totally out on a limb. She made a decent living, but she couldn't afford what her baby sister could, not by any means.

“What's it like?” Sabrina asked cautiously. If not light and airy, then dark and gloomy? But if so, maybe they could have dogs.

“It's a brownstone on East Eighty-fourth Street, and it's pretty far east. But that puts it near Gracie Mansion. It's a nice old neighborhood. It's not as trendy as downtown, of course. But it's a good house. It belongs to a doctor who just lost his wife. He's taking a sabbatical year off. I think he's a shrink. He says he's going to London and Vienna. He's writing a book about Sigmund Freud, and he has a dog, so he probably won't object to yours. It's a very pretty little house, not state of the art, but it has a lot of charm. His wife was a decorator, so she made the most of it. He wants to rent it for a year, and if the tenant is willing, he'd like to leave some of his furniture in it. If not, he said it can be stored.”

“How many floors?” She was thinking about Annie. An apartment on one level would probably be easier for her than a house, and there was no security if they lived in a brownstone. If she needed help, there was no one she could call.

“Four. The top floor is kind of a family room. The house has a garden, nothing special, but it's nice. The bedrooms are small, you know how brownstones are. But there are four of them. You said you only need three, but you could use the fourth one as a home office. And the kitchen and dining room are in the basement, so it's a hike from the fridge to the bedrooms, but there's a fridge and a microwave in the family room upstairs. You have to be creative about brownstones in New York. There's a living room and den on the main floor, two bedrooms on each floor above it, which gives you four, and each bedroom has a bathroom, which is rare, they're small but very nicely done. His wife had a lot of style. And then the family room upstairs.

“It sounds like it has all the rooms you need, if you don't mind having the kitchen and dining room in the basement, which is fairly cozy. The garden leads off of that, so it's pretty light and faces south. It's all north-south exposure. Washing machine and dryer, the house is fully air-conditioned, and the price is right, but you can't extend it beyond a year. He wants his house back after a year. He sees patients in the house. He's a fairly well-known guy in his profession. He's written several books.” None of which meant that they would love his house. Sabrina was thinking that they could put Annie on the second floor, with Candy maybe, and she could take one of the bedrooms on the next flight up, so she and Chris could have some privacy, and they could all hang out upstairs. With luck and a little planning, it might work, if Annie could get around.

“How much?” That was an important factor for her. The realtor told her, and Sabrina wanted to whistle again, but this time because it was so cheap. It was less expensive than her current apartment, and she could easily have paid half the rent or all of it, and she only had to pay a quarter, since her father had agreed to pay half of their rent for Annie, to help them out. “Why so cheap?”

“He doesn't care about the money. He just wants to know that there are nice people in his house. He doesn't want to leave it empty for a year. His kids don't want to live there. One lives in Santa Fe and the other one in San Francisco. He tried to get someone to housesit for him, and he couldn't. He doesn't want people giving wild parties, or trashing it. It's a cute little house, and he wants to come back and find it in good shape. He set the price, and I told him he could get twice that, but he doesn't care. If you're interested, you'd better see it quick. I don't think it will be on the market for long. People are away this week because of the holiday, but as soon as other brokers get wind of it, I think it will get snapped up. He only put it on the market last week. I think she died two months ago.” Poor guy. Sabrina felt sorry for him. Losing their mother had taught her a lot about the impact of losing someone you loved.

“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.

“She's not wearing much,” Sabrina complained, “and what she is wearing, you can see through,” she said as Annie laughed.

“She can get away with it,” Annie commented.

“How're you doing?” Tammy asked her as they gathered around her bed, waiting for the doctor.

“Okay, I guess. I can't wait to get these bandages off. The tape itches, and I'm so sick of sitting here in the dark. I want to see you guys,” she said, smiling, as her sisters said nothing. Sabrina handed her a glass of juice with a straw and helped her get it to her lips. “How's Dad?”

“He's doing okay. Thank God for Chris, he's keeping him occupied. I think they're fixing every door in the house, making sure every drawer rolls smoothly, changing lightbulbs. I have no idea what they're doing, but they seem very busy.” Annie laughed at the image. And the doctor walked in five minutes later. He exuded an air of quiet confidence, and smiled as he looked at all four sisters. He had already seen them several times that week, and had commented that Annie was a lucky woman to have such strong family support. He said it wasn't always that way between sisters. And he realized now that he was facing all four, not just one, for this painful moment.

He told Annie that when he took the bandages off, she was not going to see anything different than she did now. As he said it, Sabrina held her breath, and Tammy reached out and squeezed her hand. This was awful. Candy was standing beside them.

“Why won't I see anything different?” Annie asked, frowning. “Does it take a while for my vision to come back?”

“Let's try it,” he said calmly, and carefully began removing the bandages she had worn for the last week. Annie asked him then if there were stitches he had to take out, and he said there weren't. The stitches were all dissolving ones, and were inside. Many of the cuts on her face had begun to heal by then. Only the gash on her forehead was likely to leave a scar, but if she wanted to, she could cover it with bangs. Or have it taken care of later. Candy had been putting vitamin E oil on her sister's face all week.

Once the gauze bandages were removed, the only thing left were the two round patches that covered her eyes. The doctor glanced at Annie's sisters then, and finally back at her.

“I'm going to take the eye patches off now, Annie,” he said carefully. “I want you to close your eyes. Will you do that for me?”

“Yes,” she said in a whisper. She had the feeling that something was happening, and it didn't feel right. She didn't know what it was, but the tension in the room was palpable and she didn't like it.

He took the patches off, and Annie had done what she was told and closed her eyes. He shielded her eyes with his hand then, and asked Sabrina to close the venetian blinds. Even in her blindness, the sunlight could be a shock. Sabrina did it, and they waited, as he asked Annie to open her eyes. There was a moment of terrifying silence in the room, as Sabrina expected her to scream, but she didn't. Instead she looked puzzled and mildly frightened, but he had warned her.

“What do you see, Annie?” he asked her. “Do you see light?”

“A little, like a very pale gray,” she said specifically, “kind of a pale gray, and black around the edges. I can't see anything else.” He nodded, and tears rolled silently down first Tammy's cheeks, and then Sabrina's. Candy tiptoed from the room. She couldn't stand it. It was just too painful to watch. Annie heard the sound of the door whooshing closed but didn't ask who it was. She was concentrating on what she saw, and didn't. “I can't see anything, just that pale gray light in the middle of my field of vision.”

He held a hand in front of her face then, with his fingers spread apart. “What do you see now?”

“Nothing. What are you doing?”

“I'm holding my hand in front of your eyes.” He signaled to Sabrina to open the blinds again, which she did. “And now? Is the light any brighter?”

“A little. The gray is a little lighter, but I still don't see your hand.” She sounded breathless, and was beginning to look very frightened. “How long will it be before I can see normally again? I mean everything, like shapes and faces and color?” It was a painfully direct question, and he was honest with her.

“Annie, things happen sometimes that can't be fixed. We do every single thing we can to fix them, but once they're broken, or connections are severed, we can't link them up again, no matter how hard we try. One of those pipes that hit you in the accident severed your optic nerves, and the veins that feed them. Once that happens, it's pretty close to impossible to repair the damage. I believe that you will see light and shadows in time. You may even see forms and outlines, and you may even have an impression of color, very much like the way you do now. The light is very bright in this room now, that's the pearl-gray color you see. Without that, the gray would be darker. That may improve slightly over time, but only very slightly. Annie, I know this is hard to conceive of now, but you're very lucky to be alive. The damage could have been far greater- your brain was not permanently damaged in the accident. Your eyes were. But, Annie, you could have lost your life.” It was a tough speech to make, even for him, and he was well aware that she was an artist. Everyone in her family had told him, but it didn't change the damage that had been done to her eyes. And no matter how much he wanted to, there was nothing he could do about it. That didn't make it any easier for Annie now.

“What are you saying to me?” Annie said, looking panicked. She turned her face toward where she thought her sisters were, and could see nothing. And even the gray she had seen at first seemed dimmer now, as she turned her face away from the light. “What do you mean? Am I blind?” There was an infinitesimal pause before he answered, as her sisters stood there looking as though their hearts would break for her.

“Yes, Annie, you are,” the doctor said quietly, and held her hand. She yanked it away from him and started to cry.

“Are you serious? I'm blind? I can't see anything? I'm an artist! I have to see! How can I paint if I can't see?” How could she cross a street, see a friend, cook a meal, or even find her toothpaste? Or get out of the way of traffic? Her sisters were far more concerned about the more basic issues than her art. “I have to see!!” she said again. “Can't you fix it?” She was sobbing like a child, as Sabrina and Tammy reached over to touch her so she would know they were still there.

“We tried to fix it,” the surgeon said miserably. “We had you in surgery for five hours, just working on your eyes. The damage was too severe. The optic nerves had been destroyed. It really is a miracle you're alive. Sometimes miracles come at a high price. I think this is one of those. I'm really sorry. There are a lot of things you can do to have a good life. Jobs, travel, you can lead a fully independent life. People without sight do remarkable things in the world. Famous people, important people, ordinary people like you and me. You just have to take a different approach than the one you had before.” He knew his words were falling on deaf ears. It was too soon, but he had to say something to give her hope, and she might remember it later. But for now, she had to absorb the shock of being blind.

“I don't want to be ‘a person without sight’!” she shouted at him. “I want my eyes back. What about a transplant? Can I have someone else's eyes?” She was desperate and ready to sell her soul to get back her sight.

“There's too much damage,” he said honestly. He didn't want to give her false hope. She might see light and shadows one day, but she would never have her sight. She was blind. At her father's request, another ophthalmologist had examined her records that week, and had come to all the same conclusions.

“Oh my God,” she said, as her head dropped back onto the pillow, and she sobbed uncontrollably. Her sisters stepped up to her bedside then, one on either side of her, and the doctor patted her hand and left the room. There was nothing more he could do for her right now. She needed them. He was the villain who had just destroyed all hope of life as she had known it until now. He would meet with her again, and help design a treatment plan for her, and make suggestions about the training she would need. But it was too soon for that. Although he was usually more dispassionate, these four women, and especially his patient, had moved him deeply. He felt like an ax murderer as he left the room, and wished he could have done more for her, but he couldn't. No one could have. At least he had managed to preserve her eyeballs so she wasn't disfigured. She was such a beautiful girl.

Candy saw him leave the room with a grief-stricken face, and slipped back in. She saw Sabrina and Tammy on either side of her, and saw Annie sobbing uncontrollably as they held her.

“Oh my God… I'm blind… I'm blind…” Candy started to cry the moment she saw her. “I want to die…I want to die… I'll never see anything again… my life is over…”

“No, it isn't, baby,” Sabrina said softly as she held her. “It isn't. It feels that way, but it isn't. I'm sorry. I know this is hard. It's awful. But we love you, and you're alive. You're not brain-damaged, you're not crippled or paralyzed from the neck down. We have a lot to be grateful for.”

“No, we don't!” Annie shouted at her. “You don't know what it's like. I can't see you! I can't see anything…I don't know where I am… everything is gray and black…I want to die…” She sobbed in her sisters' arms for hours. They took turns consoling her, and finally a nurse came in and offered her some mild sedation. Sabrina nodded-it seemed like an excellent idea. This was just too much for her. Losing their mother and finding out she was blind, all within a week. After listening to Annie cry for three and a half hours, she felt as though she needed sedation herself.

Annie lay in Tammy's arms, crying, as they gave her the shot. Twenty minutes later she was nodding off, and the nurse said she would sleep for several hours. They could leave and come back, and on tiptoe they left her room, and said nothing until they reached the parking lot. They all looked as though they had been beaten up.

Tammy lit a cigarette with shaking fingers, and sat down on a large rock next to their father's car. “Jesus, I need a drink, a shot, heroin, a martini… the poor kid…” It had been awful.

“I think I'm going to throw up,” Candy announced as she sat down next to her, took one of Tammy's cigarettes, and lit it, while Sabrina looked for the car keys. She felt as shaken as the others.

“Just don't throw up on me,” Tammy warned her. “I couldn't take it.”

The doctor had given Sabrina the name of a psychiatrist earlier that week, who specialized in working with blind people. After what they had just been through, Sabrina was going to call her.

She finally got the car keys out of her bag, and opened the doors. The others got in, and looked as though they'd been through the wars. It was two o'clock, and they had been with her for four hours, three and a half since she heard the news. Annie had sobbed nonstop. The three sisters didn't even have the strength to talk to each other on the way home. Tammy said she wanted to go back at four, in case she woke up then from the sedation. Sabrina said she'd go with her, and Candy said she wouldn't.

“I can't stand it. It's too awful. Why can't they give her someone else's eyes?”

“They just can't, there's too much damage. We have to help her make the best of it,” Sabrina said, but when they got home, they all crawled out of the car, and walked into the kitchen, looking totally disheartened. Their father and Chris were just finishing lunch. It was easy to see how the morning had gone. Both men looked stricken when they saw the three sisters' faces.

“How was it?” Chris asked softly.

“How did she take it?” her father asked them. He felt like a coward now for not going with them. He knew Jane would have, but she was their mother and so much better at that kind of thing than he was. He would have felt like a bull in a china shop at her bedside. And Tammy and Sabrina reassured him that it wouldn't have made a difference. She wanted her eyes, not her father.

“Can she see anything?” Chris asked, as he put a plate of sandwiches on the kitchen table, but none of them could eat. No one was hungry. Candy disappeared and came back, said she had thrown up and felt better. It had been an awful morning for everyone, but especially excruciating for Annie.

“Just grayness and a little light apparently,” Sabrina answered. “He said she may see shadows eventually, or even some color, but that's not even a sure thing. This is pretty much the way it's going to be forever, a gray and black world and nothing she can distinguish.” Chris shook his head as he listened, and touched Sabrina's cheek with gentle fingers.

“I'm sorry, sweetheart.”

“Me too,” she said sadly, moving closer to him with tears in her eyes.

“How was she when you left her?”

“Sedated. She sobbed for hours and the nurse finally offered to give her something. I was ready to take some too. This is going to be a nightmare while she adjusts to this. I have to call that shrink he recommended. I'm worried she's going to wind up in a major depression, or worse.” People had committed suicide for less, which was now her greatest fear. No one in the family had ever had suicidal tendencies, but none of them had ever lost their mother and their sight either. She wanted to do everything possible to help and protect her sister. That was what sisters were for.

Tammy went upstairs to lie down, and took Juanita with her. Candy went outside to stretch out at the pool, and Chris and Sabrina went with her, with Beulah and Zoe. The Yorkie jumped into the pool and looked like a drowned rat when she came out. Beulah liked walking across the steps at the shallow end to cool off, but preferred not to go swimming. It made Sabrina smile to watch them, and lightened the mood of the hour.

They sat and chatted quietly for a while, and eventually Jim came out to join them. He swam laps with powerful strokes up and down the length of the pool, and was tired when he finished. He was in excellent physical shape, but his whole body seemed to droop when he came to sit next to them. It was hard to believe that his beloved Jane had been gone for exactly a week.

“I'll go with you when you go back to see Annie,” he said to Sabrina, and she nodded. Her sister needed all the love, support, and help she could get. And their father was an important person in their life. He was less hands-on than their mother had been with them, but he was always there in the background, protecting them and loving them, lending an ear or his support. Annie needed everything he had to give right now. “What can I do?”

“Nothing,” Sabrina said honestly. “She just found out. It was a hell of a shock.”

“What about her boyfriend in Florence? Do you think he'd come over to see her? That might cheer her up.” Sabrina hesitated for a long moment, and then shook her head.

“I don't think so, Dad. I called him a few days ago, and he wasn't very supportive.” She didn't have the heart to tell her father that he was a jerk, and he was gone. “This is a lot for any guy to deal with, and he's young.”

“Not that young,” her father said sternly. “I was married and had you when I was his age.”

“Things are different now.” He nodded and went to get dressed. He was ready to leave when she was, and Tammy came with them, Candy begged off. She said she had a headache and was still feeling sick. They had all been through so much that week that Sabrina didn't want to push. She could stay with Chris.

Their second visit of the day to Annie was even worse than the first. She was still sleepy from the sedation and had sunk into a depression. She just sat in her bed and cried and hardly talked. Their father cried when he saw her and tried to tell her, in a broken voice, that everything would be all right. He told her she could stay with him, and her sisters would take care of her, which only made her cry more.

“I'm not even going to have a life. I'll never have a boyfriend again. I won't get married. I can't live alone. I can't paint. I'll never see another sunset or a movie. I won't know what any of you look like. I can't comb my own hair.” As she went down the list of all the things she could no longer do, it ripped out their hearts.

“There are a lot of things you still can do,” Sabrina reminded her. “Maybe you can't paint, but you can teach.”

“How am I going to teach? I couldn't see what I was talking about. You can't teach art history if you can't see the art.”

“I'll bet you could, and lots of blind people get married. Your life isn't over, Annie. It's just different. It's not the end of everything. It's a change.”

“That's easy for you to say. My life is over, and you know it. How can I go back to Italy like this? I have to live in my father's house, like a child.” She started to sob again.

“That's not true,” Tammy said quietly. “You can live with us for a while, till you get used to it. And eventually you can live on your own. I'm sure most blind people do. You're not retarded, you lost your sight. You can figure it out. There are schools that teach life skills to blind people. After that you can live on your own.”

“No, I can't. And I don't want to go to school. I want to paint.”

“Maybe you can do sculpture,” Tammy suggested, as Sabrina gave her a thumbs-up from the other side of the bed. She hadn't thought of that herself.

“I'm not a sculptor. I'm a painter.”

“Maybe you can learn. Give yourself time to figure this out.”

“My life is over,” Annie said miserably, and then cried like a child, as their father wiped his eyes. It occurred to Sabrina then that they might have to get tough with her, and force her to make efforts that she wouldn't make otherwise. Tammy was thinking the same thing. If Annie was going to feel sorry for herself, and refuse to cooperate, she would have to be pushed. But it was way too soon to tell. She had just found out, and everything was still horrifying and new.

They stayed with her until dinnertime, and then much as they hated to do it, they had to leave. They were all exhausted, and she needed to rest. They had been with her most of the day, and promised to come back in the morning, which they did.

Sunday was more of the same, if anything it was worse than the day before, as the reality sank in. It was what she had to go through, in order to accept what had happened to her. They left her at six o'clock. It was Tammy's last night. She still had to pack, and she wanted to spend some time with their father. Chris had promised to make lasagne, and he was going back to New York that night.

Tammy kissed Annie as she lay in bed, with tears rolling down her cheeks. Her eyes were open, but she couldn't see them. Her eyes were still a vibrant green, but they were useless to her now.

“I'm leaving in the morning,” Tammy reminded her, “but I want you to kick some ass while I'm gone. I'll come back for a visit, maybe on Labor Day weekend, and by then I want to see you doing lots of stuff on your own. Is that a deal?”

“No.” Her younger sister glowered at her, but for the first time she looked mad instead of sad. “And I'm never going to comb my hair again.” She sounded five years old, and they all smiled. She looked so beautiful and vulnerable lying there in bed. Sabrina had brushed her coppery hair, and it shone. The nurses had washed it for her.

“Well, in that case,” Tammy said practically, “I guess you're right. You won't find a husband or a boyfriend, if you stop combing your hair. I hope you plan to bathe.”

“No, I won't,” Annie said, sitting in bed with her arms crossed, and they all laughed. In spite of herself, Annie did too, for just an instant at least. “This isn't funny,” she said, starting to cry again.

“I know it's not, baby,” Tammy said as she kissed her. “It's not funny at all. But maybe all together we can make it a little bit more okay. We all love you so much.”

“I know,” Annie said, sinking into her pillow. “I don't know how to do this. It's so scary.” Tears were streaming from her eyes.

“It won't be after a while,” Tammy reassured her. “You can get used to anything, if you have to. You have the whole family behind you,” she said, with tears in her own eyes.

“I don't have Mom,” Annie said sadly, as two big tears rolled down her cheeks, and her father turned away.

“No, you don't,” Tammy conceded, “but you have us, and we love you with all our hearts. I'll call you from L.A., and you better tell me some good stuff. If Sabrina tells me you're smelly, I'll come back and give you a bath myself, with my loofah that you hate.” Annie laughed again. “So be a good girl. Don't be a big pain in the ass.” It was what she used to tell her when they were kids. They were only three years apart, and Annie had been a pest when Tammy thought she was nearly grown up. Annie had squealed on her a million times, especially about boys. And Tammy had actually threatened more than once to beat her up, but never had.

“I love you, Tammy,” Annie said sadly. “Call me.”

“You know I will.” She gave her one last kiss and walked out of the room. The others kissed her, and left too. Sabrina said that she and Candy would be back the next day, but not before the afternoon. She didn't tell Annie, but she was going to see the house in New York the next morning. She was leaving for the city at the same time Tammy left for the airport, at eight o'clock. Sabrina was taking Candy with her too, so if they liked it, they could make a decision on the spot.

They all tried to come up with ideas for Annie that night over dinner. There was no question, she had to go to a special school for the blind. She was right, there were so many things she couldn't do now. She had to learn them all, and how to deal with them without sight-filling a bathtub, making toast, combing her hair.

“She has to see a shrink,” Sabrina insisted. She had called the psychiatrist and left a message on her voice mail. “And I thought your sculpture idea was great,” she said to Tammy.

“If she's willing. That's going to be the key. Right now she feels like her life is over. And it is, as she knew it. She has to make the transition to a new life. That's not so easy to do, even at her age.”

“It's not so easy at mine either,” their father said sadly, helping himself to the excellent lasagne that Chris had made. “By the way, I think you should give up law and become a handyman and cook.” Chris had been worth his weight in gold for the past week, being helpful in a thousand ways. “You can have a job here anytime you like.”

“I'll keep it in mind, if I get tired of class-action suits.”

But their father's comment made them all realize that his adjustment was going to be hard too. He had been married for nearly thirty-five years, and now he was alone. He wasn't used to taking care of himself. He had relied on his wife for more than half his life, and he was going to be lost without her. He couldn't even cook. Sabrina made a mental note to ask the housekeeper to start leaving him meals he could reheat in the microwave, once they were gone.

“Every widow and divorcée in the neighborhood is going to start knocking on your door,” Tammy warned him. “You're going to be a hot commodity around town, and in great demand.”

“I'm not interested,” he said glumly. “I love your mother. I don't want anyone else.” He hated the idea.

“No, but they'll be interested in you.”

“I have better things to do,” he growled. But the trouble was, he didn't. He had absolutely nothing to do without his wife. She had taken care of everything for him, organized their social life, planned everything. She had kept life interesting for him, with trips into the city for symphony, theater, and ballet. None of his children could imagine him doing any of that for himself. He had been totally pampered by her. And as a result had become dependent on her.

“You'll have to come into the city and have dinner with us, Dad.” Sabrina reminded him about the house they were seeing the next day.

“It sounds cute.”

“It might be, or could be a horror. You know how real estate agents are. They lie like dogs and have terrible taste.” He nodded, suddenly thinking how lonely he was going to be in the house when the girls left again.

“Maybe I should retire,” he said, looking depressed, and all three of his daughters responded at once.

“No, Dad!” And then they laughed. The last thing he needed was to strip his life down even more. He needed to keep busy, and do more now, instead of less. That much was clear. “You need to work, and see friends, and go out just the way you did with Mom.”

“Alone?” He looked horrified, as Sabrina sighed and Tammy glanced across the table at her. Now they had Annie to take care of and their dad.

“No, with friends,” Tammy said. “That's what Mom would want. She wouldn't want you sitting here alone, feeling sorry for yourself.” He didn't answer, and a little while later, he went upstairs to bed.

Chris went back to the city after dinner, so he could get to work on time the next day. Sabrina hated to see him leave, but she was grateful for all his love and help. He kissed her tenderly before he left, when Sabrina walked him out to his car.

“It's been a hell of a week,” she summed it up.

“Yes, it has. But I think everyone's going to be okay. You're lucky you have each other.” He kissed her again. “And you have me.”

“Thank God,” she sighed, and put her arms around his neck as he sat in the car. It was hard to believe that the accident had happened only eight days before. “Drive safely. I'm coming into the city tomorrow to see the house. But I won't stay long. I have to get back out here. Maybe I can leave Candy with Dad, and come in for a night this week.”

“That would be nice. See how it goes. I'll come on Friday, if you want me.” It suddenly felt like being married, with a husband who came out on weekends, while his wife stayed in the country with the kids. Only in this case the “kids” were her father and two sisters. Sabrina felt as though she had suddenly become everybody's mom, including her own. “Try and take it easy, Sabrina. Remember you can't do it all.” He had read her mind. “I'll call you when I get home.” She knew he would. Chris was solid, reliable, a person you could count on. He had proved that yet again in the past week. But it wasn't news to her. It was part of what she loved about him. Other than her father, Chris was the best man she had ever known.

“If you don't marry him, I will,” Tammy teased her when she walked back into the house. Beulah walked into a corner of the kitchen, glared at them miserably, and looked depressed. She was always sad when Chris left. “I want a guy like him. Normal, healthy, nice, helpful, good to my family, and he can cook. And a hunk. How did you get so lucky and I wind up with such jerks?”

“I don't live in L.A. Maybe that helps. Or I answered the right ad,” she teased.

“If I thought I'd find the right one in an ad, believe me, I'd try.”

“No, you wouldn't, and I wouldn't let you. Knowing your luck, you'd only get a serial killer in a personal ad. One of these days, Tam, the right guy will turn up.”

“Believe me, I'm not holding my breath. I'm not even sure I care anymore. I say I do, but I think I'm just used to bitching about it. Everybody does. I'm actually happy at home alone at night, with my doggie and total control of the remote. And I don't have to share my closets.”

“Now I'm worried about you. There is more to life than sole custody of the remote.”

“I can't remember what. God, I hate to leave,” she said with a sigh as they walked upstairs. It suddenly felt like the old days when they were kids. Candy had put music on, and it was too loud. Tammy was almost waiting for their mother to stick her head out of their bedroom and tell her to turn it down. “It's so weird here without Mom.” She said it in a whisper so her father didn't hear her as they walked past his room.

“Yes, it is,” Sabrina said. “It's going to be even weirder for Dad.” They both agreed.

“Do you think he'd ever get remarried?” Tammy asked her. She couldn't imagine it herself, but you never knew.

“Not in a million years,” Sabrina reassured her. “He was too in love with Mom to ever look at anyone else.”

“He's still young. I've gone out with men his age.”

“She'd be a tough act to follow, at any age. She was it for him.” And she had been for all of them too, as a mother.

“I don't think I could deal with the wicked stepmother thing,” Tammy confessed, and Sabrina laughed.

“I don't think we'll ever have to. Maybe he should come out to visit you sometime in L.A. Weekends are going to be lonely for him.”

“That's a nice idea,” Tammy said as she took out her suitcase to pack and Candy wandered in. The three sisters chatted as she packed her things, and it was after midnight when they all went to their rooms. Chris had called Sabrina by then. Their dogs were all asleep on their beds. Their father had gone to bed at ten. All was peaceful in the house, and as Sabrina got into bed, she told herself that if she closed her eyes, she could pretend that her mother was still there. In each of their beds, all three girls were thinking exactly the same thing. And even for an instant, as they drifted off to sleep, it was nice to pretend that nothing had changed, when in fact everything had, and would never be the same again.