At precisely eleven, she entered Rand’s office building.
“May I help you?” his assistant, an elderly gray-haired woman, inquired politely.
“I’m Karen McAlister. I have an appointment with Dr. Prescott.”
The woman scanned the appointment schedule. “Yes, Dr. Prescott mentioned you this morning.” There was a hint of censure in her tone, and Karen wondered what inconvenience their meeting was causing.
“Follow me, please.” The cool smile displayed an efficient assistant’s welcome. She paused outside the door. “Dr. Prescott’s on the phone, but he’s asked that you be shown in immediately. Would you like a cup of coffee while you’re waiting?”
Politely, Karen declined. With her jittery nerves, she wasn’t beyond dumping the contents across Rand’s desk. She entered the office quietly so as not to disturb him. He gave no indication that he noticed her arrival, his full concentration directed at the person on the other end of the line. From the conversation, Karen assumed it was either his agent or his publisher.
She stood awkwardly in the middle of his office for several minutes, not wishing to sit, yet equally unwilling to feel like a child being disciplined. Her gaze swept the walls, resting on the degrees and certificates decorating the office. As she read their contents, her discomfort grew. On further investigation, she found Rand was the recipient of several prestigious awards. There was even a picture of him with the president of the United States. Nothing could have made her more aware of how separate their worlds were. A knot grew in the pit of her stomach as she read the contents of each framed accomplishment.
His achievements were astonishing, and Karen experienced a budding respect for the obstacles he’d overcome. She doubted there was any situation or crisis Rand couldn’t surmount with patience and persistence. But her admiration did little to quell her uneasiness.
No wonder Rand questioned their relationship.
Depression, heavier than any yoke, weighted her shoulders. She actually felt her body droop under its burden. There could be no basis for a meaningful relationship between them.
Dismally, she moved to the picture window overlooking Commencement Bay. Oyster-gray clouds met murky waters in a thin overcast. Only a few brave souls weathered the promise of rain, their sailboats slicing through the water. Yet Karen was blind to the picturesque beauty that lay before her.
“I’m sorry, Karen.” Rand stood. “I didn’t mean to be so long.”
“No problem,” she murmured abjectly, refusing to face him.
As soon as she spoke, Rand came to stand behind her. His hands rested lightly on her shoulders, drawing her against him. Gently, his lips touched her hair.
Karen suppressed an overwhelming urge to turn and bury herself in his arms. Instead, she stared at the world outside the window, feeling wretched and small.
“You’re angry?” he asked, his tone suggesting surprise.
“I’m not,” she murmured unhappily.
“Obviously something is troubling you.”
Inhaling deeply, she faltered over the words. “I … I know why you asked me here today. It’s shown me without words why you haven’t wanted to see me again. I don’t blame you. I understand now.”
The grasp on her shoulders tightened, and, using his strength, he turned her to face him. “Just what are you implying?”
“I’m saying that I’ve never fully realized how important you are. You’re a respected professor, a noted author … a man of unquestionable financial insight. Do you realize I’m not so very different from the woman who ushered me into your office? Basically, I’m a nobody.”
“A nobody?” He openly scoffed. “If that’s the case, you’ve managed to wreak havoc on my life in short order.” His expression didn’t alter. “Do you really believe I invited you here to impress you with our differences?”
A lump rose in her throat, and she swallowed hard. It was ironic that she would argue with him without relenting a whit and then accept defeat after ten minutes in his office without a spoken word.
“Yes.” Her voice trembled slightly.
“It was never my intention to see you after the Christmas party,” he said deliberately.
“I’m aware of that.”
“I said good-bye to you that night, and I meant it. But no woman has ever affected me the way you have, Karen. I’m not a romantic. The relationships I’ve had with women have been for the express purpose of satisfying a basic human need. That night with you shattered every preconceived idea I have regarding love and romance. You were gentle, sweet, and warm, more like the mythological Andromeda than a mere human. I knew then what could never be.”
“I’m hardly a goddess,” she interrupted with dry sarcasm.
He began again, his voice fervent. “I’m almost totally blind. I have no intention of maintaining a personal relationship with any woman. Not now, not ever. Even the attraction I feel for you will not convince me differently. You’re special, Karen, and you deserve the best … certainly not a blind man.”
Immediately, she bristled, but before she could say anything, Rand continued, “Maybe it’s best we end this testing time now. That choice is yours, but I won’t have you believing you’re not good enough for me.”
“Then why did you ask me here?” Her voice nearly failed her.
His features softened as the intensity left his face. “For this.” He withdrew a jeweler’s box from his pocket.
Hesitantly, Karen accepted the small case.
“It’s not wrapped, but happy birthday, anyway.”
Karen almost gasped when she lifted the lid. A lovely gold locket rested on a bed of purple velvet. It was old, but not an antique; the jeweler’s box and style were outdated, but the locket was obviously new.
“It’s beautiful,” she whispered, lifting the heart-shaped locket from the case to examine it more fully.
“Can you get it on okay? I doubt that I’ll be much use.”
“I think so.” The chain clasped effortlessly as the locket fell naturally into place between her breasts. Karen longed to ask if the jewelry had been his mother’s, but if it had any special significance, he wasn’t telling her.
“Thank you, Rand. I’ll treasure it always.”
Softly, his hand caressed her cheek. As if it were suddenly too much restraint to keep her from his arms, he pulled her to him, hugging her fiercely. “Happy birthday,” he whispered huskily.
His assistant’s buzzer interrupted them, and Rand responded to the intrusion with a clear, crisp voice. The words were in a cloud as Karen gradually returned to the present.
“I’ve got to leave for a meeting,” Rand told her reluctantly. “I’ll phone you at the end of the week.”
Karen smiled, her eyes dancing. “It seems I’m doomed to sit by my phone waiting for you to call.”
Chuckling at her teasing sarcasm, he reached for his coat. “All right, how about dinner on Saturday? I’d like you to meet Cora Dibner. I believe Evan Forsyth’s mentioned her.”
Karen’s spirits descended rapidly; she had no desire to meet the woman, but wondered what claim Cora had on Rand.
They walked from the building together, exchanging the teasing banter they both enjoyed. Halfway down the wide cement walkway, Rand stopped abruptly. “My book,” he said with a shock. “I’ve left it in the office.” He chuckled. “I’ve left my office a thousand times in the past seven years, and this is the first time I’ve forgotten my book. See what you do to me?”
Karen smiled, and her heartbeat raced with a new happiness.
“I’ll have to go back. Karen McAlister, you’ll be the downfall of me yet.”
She watched as Rand progressed through the throng of students. “I hope I am,” she said to no one in particular.
Four
Karen enjoyed her birthday lunch. The fettuccine complemented a lighthearted celebration, but it didn’t take Evan long to come to the point of their meeting. He noted the changes in Matthew’s personality, voiced his concern,
and suggested the root of the problem was loneliness. Matthew needed to remarry, Evan concluded. Karen could feel the tiny hairs at the back of her neck bristle. No woman, however wonderful, could ever replace her mother. Selfishly, she did not wish to see her father marry someone else.
But the more they discussed the situation, the more both Judy and Karen were forced to acknowledge that perhaps Evan was right. It would take a readjustment in their thinking, but both were willing to make the effort as long as it helped Matthew—anything to change his present attitude.
Anxiously, Karen longed for the weekend and the dinner date with Rand. Her curiosity regarding Cora Dibner was keen; only when she had met Rand’s associate could she evaluate the extent of their relationship.
With each passing day, Karen discovered that Rand was coming to occupy more and more of her thoughts. Even the little things in life like shopping and cooking brought him to mind. While preparing a meal, she found herself questioning his likes and dislikes. When dressing, she wondered how he’d feel about a certain outfit she was planning to wear. Seldom did Karen consciously think of him as blind. Accepting his lack of sight was very much like accepting Judy’s too-large nose. After a while, it became unnoticeable, a part of her person that was unconsciously overlooked.
When Rand phoned late and unexpectedly Wednesday night, Karen was reading and ready for bed.
“Karen?” A hint of doubt entered his husky voice.
“Were you expecting someone else to answer?” she teased.
He chuckled, his voice rich and low; the sound of his amusement contained an element of music. “No. I’m sorry to be phoning so late.”
“That’s fine. I was reading.” He could phone any time he wanted, Karen yearned to tell him, but to admit that would be revealing too much.
“I’m afraid I’m going to have to cancel our dinner date Saturday night.” The regret in his voice communicated his own disappointment.
“Oh …” She sighed in frustration and absently fingered the gold locket he’d given her. Karen wore it continually, as if wearing it would result in some wonderful magic. She’d been so impatient to see Rand again, and the throbbing happiness she experienced just hearing his voice vanished with his announcement. It seemed their whole relationship was a series of setbacks.
“Karen, I’m phoning from Washington, D.C. I won’t be back before Sunday.”
“Washington, D.C.” she gasped, and quickly glanced at the kitchen clock. “It must be two A.M.”
“After two,” he murmured tightly. “I’ve been tied up in one of those dreadful meetings that last forever and solve nothing.” He sounded both tired and frustrated. “I suppose I should have phoned tomorrow night, but I needed to hear your voice.”
Karen’s spirits soared. The need to talk to her was something he admitted grudgingly, as if she were becoming a weakness he couldn’t overcome.
“I’m glad you did call,” she whispered softly. “I like to hear your voice, too, but I’m sorry to miss meeting Cora.” Karen flushed guiltily; her curiosity regarding his business associate had little to do with friendly overtures.
“You’ll meet her,” Rand assured her, then paused for a moment. “I’ve been invited to a wedding reception sometime next week. Would you like to attend with me? Cora will be there,” he added, as if she needed an incentive.
“Yes, I’d enjoy that.” Rand could issue an invitation to a funeral and she’d still experience a thrill of anticipation.
“I’ll let you know what day and time later.”
“That’ll be fine. I don’t have anything special planned for next week.” She paused, then began hesitantly, “Would you like a kitten?”
“A what?” he asked in disbelief.
“A cat.” She giggled. “My two crazy nephews brought home six kittens yesterday. Judy sent them to the store for a loaf of bread, and some lady was sitting outside the store with a box of kittens. The boys couldn’t believe the cats were free and took all six. After all, they considered six free cats to be quite a bargain. By the time Judy returned to the store with the boys and the cats, the lady was long gone. In fact, Judy and I spent the evening posting ‘free kitten’ signs around the neighborhood.”
“Those two rascals,” Rand said, chuckling. “I suppose all six are females?”
“Do you have anything against females?” Karen asked with mock indignation.
“Not of late,” he murmured with a chuckle. “All right, I’ll take one regardless of sex.”
“Judy thanks you, kind sir.”
“Go ahead and choose one for me; I’ll have Carl contact you to make the arrangements to pick it up. You can name it for me if you want.”
“I’d like that.” Already her mind was buzzing with several possibilities.
“I suppose I’d better let you get some sleep.” His voice was warm and husky, creating in Karen anything but the desire to slumber.
“I suppose,” she whispered on a sigh.
“Good night, my sweet Andromeda.”
“Good night, Rand.” She replaced the receiver and leaned back in the chair to savor every word of their conversation.
Karen met Carl Friday afternoon at Judy’s. By the time he arrived, Karen still hadn’t decided among the three remaining kittens. All were equally adorable, with feisty personalities and soft, cuddly fur. Carl stood by silently, refusing to be drawn into the decision making. In the end, James helped her choose the calico.
“The reason no one wants her is because she’s female,” James declared, “but I think she’s the best one.”
“Well, that settles it,” Karen said matter-of-factly. “Little calico, you’re the one.” She lifted the multicolored kitten from the box, examining her face carefully. “She’s lovely. Thank you, James.”
A hint of a smile touched Carl’s wrinkled features. “Mr. Rand said you’d be choosing a female. Have you picked out the name?”
“Not yet,” she said, frowning thoughtfully, “but I’m working on it.”
“I like Super Pooper, because she’s the one …”
“Carter, that’s quite enough,” Judy snapped, looking a bit abashed.
“Yes, Mom.” The youngster’s enthusiasm was immediately quelled, but his eyes sparked mischief.
Carl happened to catch Karen’s eye, and she noted the difficulty with which he restrained his laughter.
The boys enthusiastically helped Carl load the kitten into the carrier he’d brought. Both made their farewells as if they were seeing their only sister depart to an unknown world.
“Such dramatics,” Judy whispered with a sigh.
“Is Tuesday evening at seven convenient?” Carl questioned as Judy and Karen walked him to the car, obviously referring to the wedding reception Rand had mentioned.
“That’ll be fine. Thanks, Carl … for everything.” She gave him a pleasant smile and waved as he pulled from the driveway.
On Tuesday evening, Karen was once again meticulous with every detail of her appearance. She chose a white taffeta puffed-sleeve blouse with a coordinating burgundy tiered skirt. The striking contrast of the two colors highlighted the dark, rich tones of her hair and winter complexion. Her face glowed radiantly with a light application of cosmetics, and her eyes were clear and sparkling. Although an emerald brooch was pinned to the neck of her blouse and she wore matching earrings, Rand’s locket remained in place beneath the taffeta.
She looked and felt lovely, but again discovered her confidence slipping. Her stomach twisted with butterflies as she waited for Rand, not knowing how he would greet her. The gruff exterior he’d displayed at their first two meetings after the Christmas party was gradually wearing away. After her visit to his office and their telephone conversation, she knew he was mellowing. Intuitively, she recognized Rand was withholding part of himself, the part she’d witnessed the night of the party. Unexplainably, the barriers had been lowered that wonderful evening, and, with a heavy sigh, she wondered how long it would take to bring them to that point
again.
Aside from the brief visit to his office, she recognized his game. Rand had purposely planned that all their times together involved others: the play, the wedding reception—even the dinner date he’d been forced to cancel had been arranged with Cora Dibner. It didn’t matter; he could avoid being alone with her for only so long.
As before, Rand arrived promptly, and Karen was surprised to note that he came by taxi and Carl hadn’t driven. Her heart raced with excitement. He was tall, strong, and handsome enough to be any maiden’s dream.
“I’m early,” he explained as Karen took his coat. “The reception isn’t until eight.”
“I don’t mind. Would you like something while we’re waiting?” She took the hanger from the closet.
“You wouldn’t believe what I want,” he murmured almost inaudibly, rubbing a weary hand across his face.
“Pardon?” She stopped, her hand suspended in midair.
“Nothing … it wasn’t important.” He stood awkwardly in her tiny entryway, suddenly looking unsure.
“The most comfortable chair is to your left,” she said lightly, hoping he wouldn’t find her directions a form of rescue.
He smiled gratefully. “Thanks.” He located the large overstuffed chair and sat down.
“Would you like something to drink?” Nervously, she placed a strand of hair behind her ear. She didn’t keep a large supply of beverages on hand and could only hope she had what he wanted.
“Coffee, if you have it.”
“I do.”
“Why the sigh of relief?”
“What?” Although halfway to her kitchen, Karen turned back toward him.
“You sighed like you were afraid I’d ask for a Smith and Currens.”
“I did?” she asked blankly. “I didn’t even realize it.”
“Don’t worry. Blind men rarely drink anything stronger than coffee,” he remarked.
Waving her hands excitedly, Karen marched to his chair and sat on the ottoman. “There, you did it again.” Her voice was high-spirited. “I was trying to explain to Dad about your ability to listen.”