A Perfect Life: A Novel by Danielle Steel Page A

And they had decided to try it for six months. Salima had loved it from the moment she got there and felt at home with other children like her. She didn’t feel different anymore, she hadfriends to play with all the time, and Blaise could relax, knowing that she was impeccably cared for.
    Blaise had continued working, and at the end of six months, it was clear that Caldwell was better for Salima, so much so that eleven years later, she had made the decision to stay on after graduation. She couldn’t imagine living anywhere else anymore. Sometimes Blaise felt guilty knowing what a secluded life she led, and wondering if she needed more, but Salima was so happy here that Blaise didn’t have the heart to bring her back to live in New York, with all the risks it presented for her. And Abby wouldn’t have come with her. She had a mother who had been in poor health for years, and she wanted to stay nearby. So Salima had stayed on, and Abby went to the community college with her every day. Blaise had given her a car, and Salima was free to come and go. She had resident status now, and was no longer subject to all the rules that applied to the younger children there. And most of the teachers were her friends, but Abby was more like an older sister to her, or a mother. Thinking that always hurt Blaise a little, but Abby was so much better for her, and did everything Salima needed, at all times. Blaise knew only too well that she couldn’t have done it, even if she didn’t work. The responsibility of handling Salima’s illness on her own had always made her anxious and frightened her.
    “So what have you two been up to?” Blaise asked, as she sprawled on the couch next to her daughter. The two young women were like Siamese twins, always together, inseparable at all times.
    “I was trying to teach Abby to sing scales.” Salima laughed at her. Abby was plain looking but had a sweet face and was wearing jeans and a white fisherman sweater Blaise had brought her backfrom Ireland. And Salima was wearing the designer jeans and a pink sweater her mother had recently sent her. They both looked like kids, far younger than either of them were. Salima looked about fifteen, and Abby scarcely older. “She’s hopeless,” Salima added about her caretaker’s singing skills. “She can’t carry a tune to save her life. She can’t even sing scales. I played some of the music for her that we’ve been studying at school, Renaissance music, and she hates it.” Salima had sung in the school choir all through high school. And in a local church choir on Sunday.
    “That music is so depressing,” Abby said with a wry smile, looking apologetic.
    “I think so too,” Blaise admitted. “Can’t you study something more cheerful? Christmas carols maybe? Then we could all sing along, or at least I could. I don’t know where your musical gift came from, but it sure isn’t from me,” Blaise said with a grin.
    “I’m going to take Gregorian chants next semester,” she said, enjoying torturing both of them. She had been gifted with an exquisite voice. And she leaped at every chance to sing. She had the best voice in the entire school, and the purest. She could hit the high notes every time.
    “I’m moving out if you start chanting,” Abby threatened, trying to sound menacing, but convinced no one.
    “No, you won’t. I’m the only one who knows how to braid your hair. You’ll look a mess if you move out,” Salima warned, and they all laughed. Salima managed extremely well, especially on familiar turf. And she knew every inch of Caldwell and the grounds like the back of her hand. She was even able to get from one building to another sometimes without Abby, although Abby usually went withher. Salima particularly hated using a white cane and wouldn’t use one. She just relied on Abby. And she had refused to have a seeing-eye dog ever since she’d gone blind. She hated dogs and didn’t want one. Abby met all her needs to perfection. And