Page 20 of Fierce-Ivan

“No, not completely blind. Like lights out blind. She has some side vision. She can see somewhat clearly that way, but you can’t look at people out of the sides of your eyes. It stops her from bumping into things. She can clean and do chores. We cook together, but she doesn’t like turning the stove or oven on without me there. The microwave is something else.”

He’d never heard of this before. “Does she work?” he asked.

“She does. She did customer service for years for a company. She liked it. Talking to people and answering questions about their products. When she started to lose her vision they did everything they could to help her do her job. She works from home and does all their online customer service. People email companies all the time and that is her job where she works. She has a braille keyboard and it reads back what she types or needs to answer. It’s hard to do that if she’s on the phone with people though. She can do an online chat also, but she only fills in when they are desperate.”

“Can I tell you that might restore my faith in humanity that her company did that for her.”

“Me too. It was hard with the two of us.”

Which meant no father around. “No siblings, then?”

“No. I’m an only child. My father left when I got my drivers’ license. There was part of me that didn’t want to get it because I could see the writing on the wall, but I couldn’t let someone else’s cowardice keep me back.”

“I don’t understand,” he said. “Are you saying that your father left your mother when you were able to drive her around? That he thought a sixteen-year-old was able to care for a parent?”

“That’s what I’m saying,” she said sarcastically. “My dad is a dick. There, I said it. I’ve always thought it and never said it out loud to anyone and I’m not sure why I am to you, but it’s the truth.”

“Wow. Then I’m sorry. What an awesome person you are to step up and do what you did then and are still doing it now. I’m going to guess you’re in your twenties and I’m not sure there are many your age that would put a parent first like that. Not to the point they bought a house to help care for them.”

“You’re probably right,” she said. “Something tells me you and your family would do it if you had to. If you had a parent that was alone. It’s just us. My grandparents aren’t around anymore. My mother has a brother, but he doesn’t live around here. He got lucky and didn’t get the disease. I don’t have it if you’re wondering. You only get it if both of your parents are genetic carriers together. My grandparents both were and had no clue. It was a dormant gene. But when two people with that same gene have a child, there is a fifty percent chance the child develops Stargardt. My mother did, my uncle not. I had the genetic testing done a few years ago. I wanted to know if I was a carrier. I’m not. It doesn’t change my mother’s life though.”

“But it helps you breathe easier,” he said.

He couldn’t imagine living with that knowledge. That not only were you caring for a parent but worried the same might happen to you.

“That’s the truth. I worried for years because I’ve worn glasses since elementary school, but my vision hasn’t changed in ten years. We made due and got by. We had a roof over our heads and food in our bellies. I guess that is why I’m frugal. I’ve seen how fast life can change from what you had to where we are. My mother encouraged me to continue with college. I wanted to get a job after high school.”

“Sounds like your mother was looking toward your future,” he said.

“It was stupid on my part to not want to go. But I was young and not thinking. My mother is a strong woman. She’s great. She really is. I’m not sure how I’d be if it happened to me. The loss of my sight, the job I had at the time, my marriage. Her life changed and she still had a kid to take care of.”

When she said it that way he knew he wasn’t going to complain about much in his life again.

“I get the feeling she raised you to be the same way,” he said.

“I’d like to think I’m half as strong as her. I try to be. We are different people. She used to be more outgoing when she was younger. She isn’t so much now. She has friends and they come over and get her or I bring her to their house for a bit. Anyway, I’m sorry. I’m talking more than I normally do. I think there is part of me that wanted you to know these things. Your aunt knows about my mother, by the way.”

“She does?” he asked. “Did she know your mother before you were hired?”

Now he was wondering how much his aunt had invested in Kendra.

“No,” she said. “No one knew us. No one knew of my situation until months after my hire. My mother forgot she had an appointment and she got a text reminding her that morning. If she rescheduled it would have taken a few months to get in. I explained the situation to Ella because I felt horrible about having to leave.”

“Ella would have been completely understanding,” he said.

“She was. So that is how she found out and then I assume Ella mentioned it to your aunt. I brought my mother to the pub once for lunch and your aunt was there. She came over to talk to us. She was so nice and sweet to my mom.”

“Aunt Jolene is nice and sweet to everyone when she has an agenda,” he said, smirking.

“I’ve heard. But your family has treated me well. I suppose that is one of the reasons I wanted to tell you that I was good with coming here tonight. We can talk and not be seen or worry someone might see us out.”

“Good,” he said. “I don’t want you to think I don’t want to be seen out with you. It’s not that.”

This was going to be the tricky part. More so based on what Kendra confessed.

It seemed to him she had a hard life. Not that he’d be able to tell by looking at her. So yeah, he was right when he said she got her strength from her mother.

“I understand. We joked about keeping it quiet. I don’t like a lot of attention on me either. I know I’ve said dressing the way I do helps me blend in and it’s true. Life is simpler that way.”