Savor these next few stories - they may be the last for a while. A Troll seems to have kidnapped my Muse. No I'm not being a 'drama queen', nor am I looking for more comments. Traffic to my stories and your comments have been most satisfying. The sad fact is that a recurring health problem seems to have once again put in an appearance. Fighting it consumes my time and saps my energy. If treatment is not too long or too debilitating, I hope to be back soon. If not ... It's been a fun year. Well, almost a year.
A casual conversation with a blind friend inspired this story.
Mandy58 has looked it over and made a suggestion or two. One I took, the other I considered. Otherwise the warts in this one are all my own.
I still have no financial interest in the original Covert Affairs or Annie and Auggie.
Auggie methodically sorted through the dirty clothes in the laundry bag from his suitcase. Socks, underwear, and t-shirts went into one pile, the oxford shirts into another, and his jeans and jean shorts into yet another. The few pieces of unworn clothing went back into drawers or back on hangers in the closet. The dress shirts went into the laundry service's bag, the jeans into the laundry basket in the corner of his closet. Once his now empty suitcase was stowed on the upper shelf of the closet Auggie gathered the pile of socks, underwear and t-shirts and headed down the hallway. He paused in the laundry area just long enough to start the load of clothes he'd toted with him.
That task completed, Auggie ventured into the kitchen. He rummaged around in the refrigerator to figure out what fresh vegetables Annie had resupplied – or IF Annie had resupplied the groceries while he'd been gone. He was hoping to have dinner on the table by the time she got home from Langley tonight. She had been on a mission to Paris again when he'd left four days ago to go back to Glencoe for a long weekend with his parents and siblings to celebrate his father's seventy-second birthday.
He found the ingredients for chef's salads. Locating an appropriately sized pot in the lower cabinet, Auggie filled it with water and put three eggs in to boil. Using the raised dots on the ceramic cooktop as a guide, he centered the pot full of water and eggs on the appropriate burner before he turned it on and set braille timer. Then he pulled two salad bowls from the upper cabinet.
He was just getting started on slicing the cucumber when the front door to the condo opened signaling Annie's arrival. From the sounds of her footfalls, Auggie could tell that she was tired. She closed and locked the door and then paused for a moment. When he no longer heard her heels on the wood floor he knew that she'd taken off her shoes at the front door. That only meant one thing – her feet hurt, too. A quick grin lifted the corners of his lips. Later he'd be giving her a foot massage. He look forward to that.
"You're home!" Annie exclaimed excitedly as she came around the corner from the hallway into the kitchen.
"Yeah, got here about an hour ago. Rough day?"
"Not particularly rough; just long," Annie replied setting her shoes on the floor at the end of island. "Here let me take over getting supper. You look even more tired than I feel. Chef's salads?"
"No. I can do this," Auggie replied forcefully.
"Auggie?" Annie said, hurt evident in her tone.
"I wanted to fix you supper tonight for a change," he replied in a bit softer voice.
"Can I help?"
"I'm perfectly capable –"
"I know you are … What happened that's made you so touchy?"
"I don't want to talk about it," Auggie replied beginning to carefully take one more slice from the cucumber.
"Auggie –"
"I said that I don't want to talk about it!" The knife was gently taken from his hand and laid on the countertop. Annie took his face in her hands.
"Which one of your brothers –"
"You're not going to drop this until I tell you, are you?"
"No. Tell me which one of your brothers –"
"Anthony, but he didn't start it. It all started after the car service dropped me off at the airport. Traveler's Aid came to assist me with a wheelchair. It took me close to five minutes to convince him that I didn't need the wheelchair the we could just go sighted guide. That seemed to set the tone for the whole trip. The flight and the cabin attendants were great. Flying first class does have some perks. But at the other end, it all started again. Traveler's Aid met me with another wheelchair. Absolutely refused to give in to me – said she had to take the wheelchair with her and I might as well ride; I finally just stopped arguing and let her push me in the wheelchair. Tony drew the short straw and was sent to gather me and my suitcase from the airport. When I arrived at baggage claim in the wheelchair he didn't know quite what to think. He never did get that comfortable around me, showing up in the chair just put him over the top."
"That must have been embarrassing," Annie interjected while placing a comforting hand on her husband's arm.
"More than embarrassing. Downright humiliating. Tony was so uncomfortable with sighted guide that he treated me like a fragile piece of china or something. But even being extra cautious with me, if I hadn't been using my cane as a bumper he would have accidently ran me into a doorjamb. Then, later when us guys went out to dinner that night the place didn't have an up-to-date braille menu, so Austin wound up reading the menu to me. Then the server never addressed me directly but through Austin. It was just one thing like that after another. I've grown so comfortable with you and the people at work knowing me so well and what I'm capable of and what I could use a bit of help with, that I forget just how others see not only me, but other blind people, as incompetent to function on my … our … own. Try as I might I couldn't get people to stop doing things for me that I'm quite capable of doing for myself."
"Auggie, dear –"
"Yes, love?"
"You're back amongst people now that know better. The only person that you have anything to prove to is yourself. And you already know that you're a very competent and capable person. Even blind you do some things very well that many sighted people struggle with. … Now, what may I do to help you get our dinner on the table?"
The timer for the eggs dinged on the counter behind them. Auggie sighed softly. "I guess you can start grilling the chicken and take care of the eggs."
"I can do that," Annie replied cheerily as she crossed the kitchen to the cooktop.
Twenty minutes later, with table set and salads assembled, Annie asked Auggie, after a bite of her salad, "Even given the negatives of the trip, did you have a good time with your brothers and father?"
Auggie shrugged. "Yeah, I guess. It could have gone better; but it could have gone much worse, too. Mom still gets upset when she sees me using the cane. I don't know how to deal with that. And outside of Tony treating me like I'd break if he let me out of his sight, the rest just sort of let me be myself. I had to ask for assistance a lot, they didn't know to anticipate the little things like you've always done. I missed that. I missed you. … How was Paris?"