A/N: Once again ladygris did the Beta and it's a better chapter because of it. Thanks so much, friend.
~Sandy
Broken Mirror
Chapter Seven
Kiana finally got herself right-side up with her head above water. Turning in a circle, she found John still some ways from the beach calling her name. A strong swimmer, she struck out in his direction. "John! I'm here!" His left arm held onto the board while his right reached out for her, taking her hand when she got close enough and pulling her to him so she could hang onto the board.
"You okay?"
"Yes. The wave carried me toward shore a ways. You?"
John didn't answer her question. "I didn't know if…" Taking a deep breath, he held it for a moment and closed his eyes. When he opened them again, the slight tinge of panic was gone. "I knew this was a bad idea, but I let you talk me into it anyway. What if you'd been hurt? I can't see. I wouldn't have been able to save you." He didn't raise his voice, but the calmness he now displayed made Kiana wish he had shouted, and that made her angry.
"As a soldier, you probably have the need to play the hero…"
"Is that your professional opinion, doctor?"
His stab at her work didn't bother her. She already knew the disdain he had for psychologists. "It's not your job to save me. LA County pays the lifeguards to do that, so just put that attitude away or this is our first and last date." Apparently that had been the right thing to say because now he was giving her that half-grin she liked so much.
"We're on a date?"
Rolling her eyes, she couldn't help but smile too. "What did you think this was, John? Just another day at the beach?"
"Well, yeah. But we can call it a date if you want."
"What about what you want?"
His eyes turned in her direction, moving as if he could see her. Reaching out with one hand, his calloused fingertips brushed the wet hairs of her bangs off her forehead then down over her temple to her cheek. His thumb lightly rubbed over to the side of her nose then down to outline her mouth a moment before he pressed his lips to hers. She closed her eyes, the sensation of their kiss making her weak. John pulled back without trying to take the kiss beyond a soft and sweet meeting of mouths. "Ready to surf, Gidget?"
"Bring it on, Moondoggie."
~~O~~
The restaurant was filled with talk, laughter and music coming from a live band. They apparently fancied themselves as a Beach Boys/Jan and Dean cover band because that's all they played. John sipped his beer huffing when they played yet another song about the beach. Pushing his chair back, he stood and unfolded his cane. "Be right back."
"Okay. But don't come crawling to me when you start a bar fight with the lead singer."
Her voice held a warning which he chose to ignore for the moment. "I'm not gonna start a fight." As he made his way to the stage, he felt Kiana watching him. She could have offered to help him find his way, but if his condition was permanent, he would have to do this himself, and it made him like her even more that she was so artful in the ways she did help him that most people didn't know he was blind. Like taking his arm or hand and gently guiding him around obstacles or describing what she was seeing so he could easily picture it in his mind. He grinned to himself when he thought about after the surfing how he'd asked her to describe the women playing in a co-ed volleyball game. Instead of hair color, type of bathing suit or even their skills for the game she'd given him a detailed and itemized list of each woman's plastic surgeries. Eye and butt lifts, breast enhancements-her words, not his, tummy tucks, lipo, collagen injections. You name it, they'd had it done.
John reached the stage and stood off to one side waiting for the song to end. If their pattern held, they'd be taking a break immediately after. "Excuse me?"
"Yeah?"
"Got a minute?"
"Sure pal. Whatcha need?"
~~O~~
"The tests confirm my original diagnosis." Dr. Henry Sanders, a stocky African-American in his early sixties, tossed a folder on his desk waiting for his patient to respond.
"Do them again or give me the name of someone who will."
"Patrick, we've been over this. Having the save tests done over and over will not change the facts. Your family history is working against you as are the decades of too much rich food and not enough exercise." Henry leaned forward, his hands resting on the desk. "You need to slow down. Take it easy. Avoid stress as much as possible. Your condition didn't appear overnight and it's not going to go away with a handful of pills."
Patrick looked at his doctor and friend without expression. "It isn't that easy, Henry. I can't just up and quit. As you said, it won't happen overnight. When the CEO of a company like mine retires, there's more to consider than who will be his successor. Leaving at the wrong time and without the proper foundation could bring the company to its knees. If that happens, then thousands of people will be out of work, including my son."
Henry nodded as if agreeing with Patrick. "That reminds me. The coconut telegraph is saying your oldest has returned to the fold. How is that working out?"
"Not well. John and I have never gotten along because we have absolutely nothing in common."
"He's your son. If nothing else, that fact should give you some point of reference to start with." Henry let that thought sink in a moment. "Not to mention David, Stephanie, the kids."
"Anything else, Dr. Freud?"
"Yeah. You both love Abigail and were devastated when she died so soon after her diagnosis." Henry could see the guilt in his life-long friend's eyes. "I know you were too filled with your own grief at the time to see it, but your boys needed you then and you pushed them away. David didn't take it personally, never did. But John did and that drove you even farther apart when it should've brought you closer. You need to work things out with him before it's too late."
Patrick got to his feet and the two men shook hands. "Thanks, Henry." At the door, he paused, seemed about to say something more then apparently thought better of it and just left.
~~O~~
John came back to the table where he and Kiana talked quietly about nothing of great significance until a young lady came by with a camera.
"Hi. I'm Monica, the photographer for Barney's Bar and Grill. Would you like a photo?"
Kiana nodded. "John?"
"Sure."
He seemed reluctant at first then smiled wrapping an arm around her shoulders to pull her close. Kiana was surprised enough that she let her hand rest on his chest. He'd told her about the burns but she hadn't seen them and could feel their presence under the T-shirt. She blinked in the bright light of the flash from the digital camera.
Monica took several shots repositioning them each time. "You make a cute couple. How long you been together?"
Under her hand, Kiana felt the vibration of John quiet laugh. "First date."
"Then I'm glad I could memorialize it for you." She pulled out a card and a pad, placing both on the table in front of John. "Give me your email address and I'll send you copies."
Taking the pen and paper, Kiana gave her home email address. "Thanks."
"Do you mind if we display these photos on our wall of fame?"
"Go ahead." John grinned at the girl and Kiana watched her smile in return. "I've always wanted to be famous."
"Great." Tucking the pad into the pocket of her shorts, Monica glanced around for other victims, asking one more question before she left. "Um, just out of curiosity, what're your names?"
Again John answered. "Moondoggie and Gidget."
Kiana responded to Monica's blank stare. "Nicknames."
"Got it. Well, have a good evening and don't forget to come back for date number two."
When she was gone, Kiana and John chuckled together then lapsed into a companionable silence until the band's leader, a guy named Ray, stopped at their table on his way back from break. John excused himself, allowing Ray to lead him to the stage where he showed John to a chair and put an acoustic guitar in his hands. Ray then moved a mic into position for John's use.
"Okay, dudes and dudettes. We got us a real treat tonight. A special guest has agreed to sit in on this set so let's give it up for Moondoggie."
Fascinated, Kiana watched John tune the guitar by ear then play the opening chords to a song she'd never heard. So wrapped up in the fact that he was more engaged in life now than when they'd first met that she didn't pay attention to the lyrics until the second verse.
I've been wonderin' through this land just a-doin' the best I can
Tryin' to find what I was meant to do
And the people that I see look as worried as can be
And it looks like they are wonderin' too
And I can't help but wonder
Where I'm bound, where I'm bound
Can't help but wonder where I'm bound
From what she'd observed and the things that Sarah had told her, Kiana couldn't help but think that the words had been written just for John and the way he felt about his life. The song's composer knew that every living person on this world was looking for that one place where they fit in, where they could be themselves and not have to worry that someone would come along and try to change them. But what John, and most others, didn't realize was that we're all changed by the people we meet. They may be in your life for a second or a lifetime, but each of us has an impact on the other.
Shaking her head to dislodge those thoughts, she concentrated on watching John and the band play. John's voice wasn't the best though he played guitar very well. He sang lead on the next few songs then Ray took over until the end of the set.
~~O~~
John and Kiana walked hand-in-hand along the pier on the way back to the car not talking until he drew her to a stop. They leaned on the rail listening to the waves slap against the supports and the people eddying around them. A light breeze carried the thrum of boat engines to his ears sounding lonely and forlorn in the dark. Beside him he heard Kiana sigh. "Tired?"
"A little. You about ready to head home?"
"Soon." Moving his hand to cover hers where it lay on the rail, he drew his fingertips up her arm to her shoulder, exerting just enough pressure to turn her toward him. That same hand found her cheek, his thumb tracing the contours of her face. It was joined by its twin as he methodically touched every feature before tilting her head back and pressing his lips to hers. Her hands came up to grip his wrists. After a moment, he leaned back until their lips lost contact, smiling. "Now I'm ready to go."
~~O~~
Kiana took the bag with John's wetsuit from the trunk passing it to him. "Here you go. I had a good time today."
"Thanks. Me too." He seemed hesitant so she just waited to hear what he would say. "Dinner tomorrow?"
"Can't. What about Thursday?"
"That works." John extended his cane. "Mind pointing me at the front door?"
With a small chuckle, Kiana turned him ninety degrees. "Straight ahead."
"Thanks. 'Night."
~~O~~
The house was quiet though not the kind of quiet that meant everyone was asleep. By this time, Beatrice and Jefferson had gone to their detached apartment behind the house. The kids were probably in bed as well.
He set his bag on a chair in the sitting room, folded the cane and dropped it on top where he could find it easily. A creak came from the floor above telling him someone was still up and around. Probably Stephanie doing her yoga routine. Dave always worked late. He was like Dad that way.
He could hear his father's voice in the den. Thinking Dad and Dave might be working from home tonight John decided to confront both of them at once for how they'd ignored him since he'd arrived except for meals. He grasped the handles to slide the door open, stopping at his father's words.
"It hasn't been easy having him here, but I'm glad he's back…I'm not sure how long he'll be staying. He was blinded in an accident at work…A Lieutenant Colonel in the Air force…No, there's been no change and I'm afraid it might be permanent."
John must have been hearing things because his father actually sounded proud of him. But that couldn't be or he'd have said something. Wouldn't he? Dropping his hands, John continued to listen.
"…no, of course not. If his sight doesn't return he'll stay here of course…He's my SON. I'd never put him out on the street…We'll send him to the top specialists in the world and won't stop until we find a cure…Why? He's a pilot. If he can't do what he loves…"
It was time to interrupt this conversation and have one of his own with Dad. He knocked on the door and waited to be admitted.
"I have to go…Yes, golf next week." There was a pause then, "Come in."
Opening the door, John took two steps into the room that hadn't changed much since he was a boy. "Can we talk…Father?" A sharp inhale told him he'd surprised Patrick once again. All John's life, Patrick had always insisted on being called Father, but he'd called him Dad as a way to rile the man who'd given him life.
"Of course. Have a seat, John."
With a minimal amount of fumbling, John closed the door made his way to one of the high-backed armchairs, crossing his legs and leaning into the cozy comfort of the cushions. He could tell by the texture of the material that they were either new since he'd been home last or had been recovered.
"What's on your mind, son?"
Keeping his features neutral, John grinned internally. That was the opening he'd been waiting for.
TBC
A/N: "I Can't Help But Wonder Where I'm Bound" was written by Tom Paxton. Naturally, this version was by Johnny Cash.
