Blindsided 8

Maggie knew she must be in pain, because Cassandra wasn’t her usual bubbly vivacious self, she wasn’t laughing or joking…and no one teased like Cassy.

“Cassy, you want to come and stay with me for a few days?”

She grinned, “No, I’ll feel more comfortable at home because I know where everything is, but you’re welcome to come camp out with me, if you’d like.  I could use the company right now.  I don’t want you to feel you have to wait on me hand and foot though.”

“Seriously, Cassy, I’d feel a whole lot better knowing I’m close by if you need me.  I cook a mean burger too!

“Well, that’s all the incentive I need!” Cassandra agreed.

“Good, I’ll drop you off and head home for a few more clothes.  These just won’t do!  A girl’s got to keep her image up, right?”

“A must!” Cassandra agreed with a smile.  Maggy, the clothes horse, never wore the same outfit twice. Maybe mixed and matched, but never the exact same outfit.  Frankly, Cassandra didn’t know how she did it.  She had a real knack for looking beautiful, youthful; never overdone and always subtly sexy.  Cassandra often watched men’s mouths drop and their brains go to mush as she walked by, while Maggie, was completely oblivious to the carnage left in her wake. Maggie was a stunning natural blond, with blue eyes and gentle curves, long legs, and just plain beautiful.  Inside and out!

Meanwhile, Dr. Jamison had finished seeing clients at the office and began hitting the textbooks and making phone calls.  He was researching a number of things – all to do with Cassandra Jeffreys.  Nothing he found made sense….but he was going to find the answer, he had to! Her condition was eyesight threatening.

He’d deliberately skirted telling her the severity of her condition, omitting the risk factor unwilling to frighten her any more than necessary. Luckily she hadn’t asked any questions this time round, but he knew they would come.

Transitioning through any loss of sight would be extremely difficult, but she was a young beautiful woman with her whole life ahead of her.  The amount of pain involved would be intense and troubling for her.  If his information was correct, she was definitely in this situation for the long haul.

Wandering around her home, she thought about the delectable colours she chosen to decorate and enhanced her space.

Her grandmother had bestowed several cherry wood antiques on her; the sideboard and hutch sat in the dining room.  She’d added an oval, dark wood table and six deep cranberry chairs rather than mimicked the look of cherry wood.

The entrance was a delicate cream.  The the crowning glory of the house, the front door, a true labour of love.  After staining the entire door and jam a beautiful rich cherry wood, she’d artfully created her own stained glass window as the centerpiece.  It had taken months to finish in the confines of her two car garage with one half given over to her creataive work space, leaving enough room for a vehicle.

It spanned the length and breadth of the six foot door, and when closed, created a circle.  She’d used beveled glass for added richness, and placed a one inch border two inches inside the beveled glass with smaller pieces of rectangular beveled opaque pieces.  Then she’d painstakingly added large triangles and inside each of these she’d inset dogwood flowers, their creamy white centers and rich dark brown stems and elegant leaves, clearly outlined. Rich, warm, and welcoming, it made a dramatic statement and it was beautiful.

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