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Mozark Vision

By Helen Gray

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Chapter 1

Nikki Raynor tossed her pen onto the desk and lolled her head back against the chair, massaging her creased brow with her fingers. Why, God? she asked for the millionth time.
After learning she was losing her eyesight, and overcome by the problems with Dean, she had panicked and fled the state. It had taken her two years to come back and face the music. She still had to figure out how to deal with her mother.
The intercom buzzed. Nikki leaned forward and jabbed at the response button. “Yes, Brea?”
“The boss wants you to talk to one of our regular clients. Can you see him now?”
Nikki took a deep, fortifying. During her first two weeks with the Keene Advertising Agency, she had worked with her boss as an assistant in training. Only this past week had she begun to work independently with clients. Both of the ones for whom she had written musical ads had been pleased, but she still found it stressful to have a new client sprung on her so unexpectedly. “Tell him to come to my office.”
She composed herself at the desk that was immaculate and arranged for quick efficiency, everything positioned so she could locate it instantly, including a can of Coke sitting on a coaster to one side of the desktop.
A faint creak signaled the opening of the door. “Mr. Fleming is here,” Brea announced. A forty-year-old gem of efficiency who had been receptionist for the agency several years, Brea North had taken Nikki under her wing. Without Brea’s support, Nikki could not have handled this position.
“Send him in,” she said crisply and picked up the discarded pencil. Facing the doorway, she moved her eyes as if she could see the person entering, rather than in a sightless non-directional way that made sighted people nervous.
Footsteps crossed the room and came to an abrupt halt before her desk. A quick hiss of breath was followed by a palpable silence. “Nikki…lodean?”
Nikki ‘s heart stopped beating for a second, every muscle in her body stiffening as the past caught up with her. Only one person had ever likened her name to a nickel eating jukebox. That voice had always been on the verge of laughter, but it held no such sound now. Brea had only said Mr. Fleming. Why hadn’t she asked for a full name?
“Cody?” she whispered, fighting for breath.
“It’s really you, isn’t it?” His voice vibrated with incredulity. Footsteps and a subtle drift of aftershave told her when he moved nearer the desk.
Nikki gripped the pencil so hard it nearly snapped. With other clients her blindness had been disclosed at their initial consultation. Why had she agreed to meet a client on the spur of the moment like this? However irrational it might be, she didn’t want Cody Fleming, who was known for taking in strays, to know about her blindness. He might pity her.
She rose from her seat and stretched a hand across the desk toward where her inner radar told her he stood. “Why, hello, Cody,” she greeted him, her voice stilted and uneven. Forcing a smile, she reclaimed her hand and resumed her seat. “The last time I saw you I got the impression you were anything but a business entrepreneur.”
Hastily she brushed her skirt into place. Was her makeup smeared? Did her clothes match? Had the dark green skirt been the right choice with the cream blouse? Was it too blah?
“What are you doing here? I thought you …I thought you were a teacher. And I heard…”
“That I disappeared and was presumed …dead,” Nikki finished for him, trying to sound calm and failing. She directed her eyes at him and summoned every ounce of control she could. “I’m sorry about that. I did a very stupid thing by running away instead of facing my problems. But now I’m back and making a fresh start. Have a seat and we’ll get down to business.” She motioned toward the chair at the corner of her desk and listened for him to sit.
“Of course.” Papers rustled and were placed on the desk before her.
She reached forward, relieved when she found them immediately. “Why don’t you tell me about your new business and exactly what you have in mind?” She picked up the pages and riffled them, knowing it was irrational to even attempt to hide her lack of sight.
When he didn’t speak, she placed the papers back on the desk. “I’m new with the agency, so I’m not familiar with the full list of clients. I assume we do advertising for your family’s theater in Branson.”
“The Illusions Theater has been a client of the Keene agency for years, so it was only natural for me to come here for help with my personal business venture.”
His voice had grown deeper, and her sense of hearing had become more sensitized. Nikki remembered his slow grin, his perpetual good mood, how he looked when he was irritated, his love for hamburgers and the St. Louis Cardinals.
Nikki’s family had moved to Springfield when she was in kindergarten, and the Fleming family had lived up the street. She had become friends with the baby sister, Heather, who was only a year younger. Cody, three years her elder, had been her idol, her protector and confidant, the sympathetic ear for her little girl woes. Her young heart had broken when his family bought the theater in which his mother had been working and moved to Branson. She had been ten, and Cody thirteen.
“Tell me about this new venture. It would be quicker than reading your paperwork.” Trying to keep her voice steady and her manner professional, she patted the papers in front of her. He would inevitably figure out she couldn’t see, but she couldn’t bring herself to spit out the truth.
“I still play the family clown on stage. We don’t do any Monday shows, which is why I came to see you today. I love working at the theater, but I wanted something of my own. When a couple from our church put their ice cream parlors up for sale, I bought them. One of them is here Springfield, the other in Branson, and I want to promote them and bring in more business.”
Nikki managed a halfway genuine smile. “I can’t imagine you wanting anything without music, so I assume you’d like a catchy jingle that will make everyone who hears it crave ice cream so much they’ll run right out and stuff themselves on banana splits and chocolate sundaes.”
“You’re on track.” A grin colored his voice.
She leaned back and formed a steeple of her fingers. “Tell me more about your businesses. Describe them in detail, and let’s look for specifics to focus on that can be worked into the strict parameters of a jingle. It has to be exactly thirty or sixty seconds, memorable, and good enough to get the message across while creating a mood conducive to selling your product.”
“Sounds like a big order.”
“It is,” Nikki continued in the same crisp manner. “What we need is a hook, maybe a catchy chorus, or a guitar raff, that hangs in the listener’s mind. Do you have anything already in mind?” She flattened her hands on the desk, thankful for those summers she had worked part-time in her brother’s office before he left the advertising business for the political arena.
“I want to appeal especially to the teen and middle aged sectors.” Cody’s speech had become more even now. “I’m on a strict budget, and time is also a concern. How long will it take you to put it together?”
Nikki dredged her memory for information from the training sessions she had attended. “A whole commercial spot, starting from the concept level, could take months to develop. But I think we can do much better than that with certain conditions. It takes time to get the message, the market, the product, the user, and the melody, arrangement and soloist to all fit together and work.” She ticked them off on her fingers.
Nikki reached for her Coke, took a leisurely drink, and replaced it. But in her nervousness she missed the center of the coaster and grabbed to upright it when she felt it toppling. She hoped Cody hadn’t noticed.
*
Cody watched Nikki’s awkward movements, so unlike the confident young girl he remembered. Why was she so nervous? His presence surely couldn’t be that disconcerting to her. Butterscotch colored hair framed a face of classic, almost delicate features, and soft peach lips showed the edges of even white teeth. His heart thumped as he stared at those deep blue eyes and tried to analyze her nervousness and stilted speech. Something about the clumsiness with the Coke bothered him.
“I see you’re still addicted to that stuff.”
She tapped her fingers on the desktop. “I know, I know. My blood will someday turn to Coke. But I’m addicted and can’t even drum up a halfway desire to kick it. Okay, the hardest part of putting together an effective commercial is zeroing in on the production concept,” she said in a lightning fast return to business. “What we need is one major selling point and a secondary one. Then we drive both points home. What’s that major point going to be?”
It amazed him how she so quickly steered away from anything personal. “That’s the million dollar question.”
“Developing the right song for a product is kind of like solving a puzzle.”
“You always liked puzzles, didn’t you, Nikki?” A collage of memories spun through his mind. Nikki curled up on the sofa with a crossword puzzle book. Nikki as she worked on a jigsaw puzzle at the kitchen table.
“So did you,” she reminded him, jabbing an index finger at him.
“Yeah, we were a bit alike, weren’t we? Well, maybe you can get an idea from the stuff in that folder.”
He watched her lick her lips and hesitate, and then place her right hand on the folder. She fidgeted with a couple of sheets on top, and then put them back down. “I think I may already have an idea.”
“Stop it, Nikki.” He tried to keep his order gentle and not reveal his frustration. “You’re acting like you didn’t know me way back when, and I get the feeling you’re ready to bolt right out of here. You’re tense as a kite string. Why?”
She shook her head and clasped her hands together. “I guess I’m a little nervous because it’s been so long since I’ve seen you.” Her mouth curved as if she had made a private joke.
“Where did you spend the past two years?”
The question was blunt, but Nikki should know he would understand anything she told him. She had tagged along after him as a kid and trusted him with her secrets and fears.
She hesitated again and then inhaled and exhaled heavily. “Some personal problems got to be more than I could handle, and I left the state.” Offering no further explanations, she took another sip from her Coke and replaced it, precisely this time.
“No kidding. Too bad you didn’t call me so I could run away with you.”
She gave him a quick grin. “Too bad I didn’t think of that.”
“I can’t imagine any problem that could have been bad enough to make a strong person like you take off,” he said more seriously, his concern for her increasing.
Nikki shrugged. “A couple of things built up until I just didn’t think I could cope.”
“What did you do?”
She leaned forward on her desk, but didn’t meet his eyes. “I left my job, took some time off, and spent some time getting my life back together. Now I’ve returned and started a new career. But that’s enough about me. Where are you living now?”
He knew defeat when he met it. “I bought a house in Saddlebrooke, which puts me ten miles from Branson and twenty from Springfield.”
She nodded. “And paying for it with profits from some wise investments.”
He chuckled. “You bet. The last time I remember saw you was at a party about two and a half years ago, shortly before you disappeared.”
Her brow knit in thought. “That’s right. It was one of Russell’s political rallies. A friend attended with me, and we ran into you there. But I needed to circulate and didn’t get to visit with you and your lovely blond companion.”
Ouch. Why did she have to remember a girl he had only needed to date once to learn was a complete airhead? “I remember how well you handled the party. I could hardly believe how much you had changed.”
Unable to understand his insatiable curiosity, he continued to probe. “What did you do after we left the neighborhood, Nikki?”
She brushed at non-existent lint on her skirt. “I finished high school and told my mother that, with or without her blessing, I was going to use the trust fund my father set up for me before his death and go to college as he intended. She wanted me to use it to further my acting,” she formed air brackets around the word with her fingers, “career, but I refused.”
“You became a teacher instead. But then give it up. Why, Nikki? What made you turn your back on your job and everything you had fought so hard to achieve?”
Her body went rigid again, her expression unrevealing. “Maybe I just wanted to work in the commercial world because it’s more lucrative. Or maybe I got tired of coddling a bunch of kids who didn’t respect me.” The words were tart.
In an agitated movement she shoved her chair back, bumping it against the electric keyboard that stood against the wall. As she stood, her foot kicked something on the floor. She nudged it to one side and stalked to the window to stand with her back to him, staring into the distance.
Something was out of whack, but Cody couldn’t fathom what. Nikki had always been very private, but she had never been materialistic. It would have taken a devastating blow to send her running—something she still carried around with her.
Nikki’s butterscotch hair fell smoothly down her back and caught the sun coming through the window. He shifted enough to get a better view of her profile, fascinated by her high cheekbones and finely molded lips. Her posture was rigid, and her eyes wide open, not squinting, against the brightly beaming rays of sunlight.
Not squinting!
He crossed the carpet and stood next to her, her head only as high as the shoulder of his five eleven frame. He remained silent for a few moments before asking, “What’s the commotion over there? Are those construction workers on that roof?”
She stared straight ahead. “Uh…I’m not sure. They must be, since they’re on the roof.”
Cody pulled his hand from her shoulder and gripped her arms, the suspicion in his mind reaching near certainty. Then he turned her to face him. “Nikki, how well can you see?”
She bit her lip. “Not very well.”
He placed a hand under her chin and stared at the sheen in her eyes. His heart ached, but he had to know for sure. “There are no workers on the roof, or anywhere else.” Grave. Pointed.
Nikki raised a trembling hand and ran it gently over his face, and then jerked it back. “You have a mustache,” she said in a startled whisper—then clamped her mouth shut.
He thought he heard his heart crack open inside him. “Nikki, can you see anything at all?”
She released a weary breath of resignation. “Well…no. But blindness is just a matter of mind. If you don’t mind, it doesn’t matter,” she said in a feeble attempt at flippancy. “
Cody gaped at her, his mind short-circuiting. “I sensed changes in you, but I had no idea how extensive they are.” He spoke slowly, struggling to hide the shock that had him reeling.
Her face had turned pasty, and she swayed for a second. He grabbed her arms, thinking she was going to faint, but Nikki brushed his hands away and visibly pulled herself together. “Don’t get melodramatic on me,” she snapped. “I can do the work you want.”
“I’m sure you can,” he assured her. “You wouldn’t be here if you couldn’t.”
“Well, I can’t if I have to work in an atmosphere that’s suffocating with pity.”
“No, I can see that you couldn’t,” he agreed softly, tightening his grip on her arms when she tried to move away. “How long have you been blind, Nikki?”
She inhaled deeply, as if gathering strength. “It started about three years ago and became total this past December.”
“And you ran away rather than tell anyone what was happening.”
Nikki squared her shoulders. “Yes, I should have asked for help, but Russell was deep into a campaign, and Mother...” She spread her hands in a gesture of defeat. “Well, you know Mother. Our relationship was at an all time low, and I didn’t know what to do. So I ran away. But all that’s behind me now. I’ve learned to cope with my disability, and I don’t intend to let anything hold me back.”
He stared at her face. “It’s hard to believe. Your eyes look so bright and comprehending. And you look good, too.”
She dipped her head slightly. “Thanks. It’s good to know that I’m properly assembled.”
“Oh, you’re that,” he drawled, his system slowly recovering. Nikki was a sight to behold, but her ordeal had taken a toll. Sadness lurked in the lines of her face, and the perpetual smile he remembered no longer came so readily.
She huffed in exasperation, a trace of her old spirit returning. “That’s not what I meant and you know it. I was referring to my clothes and makeup.”
He examined her in more detail. “You handle yourself very well for someone who’s been blind such a short time.”
She rubbed the back of her neck. “It seems like forever.”
“Did you ever cry?”
“Yes.” Only the one word, but it told him so much.
“You never would when you were a girl. When you failed to get an acting job you would pull yourself into a tight little shell and literally dare anyone to invade.”
“Well, I finally hit bottom and had a good one.”
He rested his hands on her shoulders. “Will you tell me about it? I mean the whole story.”
She went very still, and then backed away a couple of paces. ”It’s not very interesting, and we have work to finish. I have another appointment soon.”
“This is your lucky day,” he announced before she could return to her desk.
The old Nikki would have responded with a ready rejoinder. This new Nikki hesitated before asking, “Why?”
“I’m a certified partner.”
She frowned, and then a brief hint of a smile peeked from the underlying grimness of her face. “Partner?”
“Escort for a blind person.”
She tilted her head. “You have some kind of special training?”
He nodded, and then froze as he remembered she couldn’t see him. “Shannon, my sister-in-law, is blind. She sings in the show, and we’ve all gotten used to being around her over the years. Before she married Britt, we used to squabble over whose turn it was to get to pick her up or work and take her home.” He injected a note of amusement into his words, not wanting Nikki to hear anything she could possibly interpret as condescension or pity.
She seemed to relax a little. “Are you making an offer?”
“Yep. I once grew accustomed to having Nikki Raynor tagging along after me. I could easily get used to it again.”
“That’s generous of you, but I manage on my own quite well. You said so yourself,” she reminded him, her body rigid again. “So there’s no need for you to sacrifice your time to take care of me. I don’t need a watch dog.”
“No, you don’t,” he agreed. “But you could use a Seeing Eye dog, and I come highly qualified. I’d lay odds you don’t get out much socially, and I can help remedy that. Have you dated since becoming blind?”
She didn’t answer.
“Based on my memories of Shannon’s experience, I’d guess that you’ve cut yourself off from potential relationships because you don’t want to risk becoming attached to anyone who might see you as a burden.”
She still didn’t respond.
“Am I right?”
Nikki shrugged. “You seem to be the one with all the answers.” Clearly agitated, she stepped away from him, and bumped the windowsill.
He chuckled at her awkwardness, wanting her to know that he was not self-conscious about her blindness. “Don’t back away from me, Nikki.”
She rubbed her elbow and gave him a self-deprecating grin. “Guess I’m still awkward.”
A new thought struck him. “Am I wrong? Is there a man somewhere who claims the privilege of being your companion?”
“No,” she denied quickly. “But that doesn’t mean you need to drag me around.”
“Maybe I want to drag you around.”
She hesitated, but her hand rose halfway to his face, and then drew back quickly. “Shannon would ask if she could see me.”

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