“Don’t know.”
A surge of emotion made her eyes prickle. This precious guy had already lost an eye to cancer. How was that for a huge dose of reality to a toddler? She swallowed against the moisture gathering in her throat. “I bet you were born sweet.” Was this how it felt to flirt with a little kid?
The statement wasn’t the least bit funny, but Dani thought it was and he giggled, his remaining almond-shaped eye almost closing when he did. She hadn’t been around many children since way back when she used to babysit for movie money, but something about Dani made her want to kiss his chubby cheeks and touch the tip of his rounded nose with her pointer finger.
She wiped her hands clean and dug out her camera from the backpack. “May I take your picture?”
“Uh-huh.” He watched her as if mesmerized, but also maybe a little afraid to move with the cast in place and taking form.
“I have to get really close to your eye. Is that okay?”
“Yes.”
She leaned in toward his cute out-sticking ear and whispered, “I promise not to touch your eye, just take pictures.”
He sat perfectly still and stared at her camera as she focused and zoomed in and shot photo after photograph of his dark brown orb. Later she’d study that eye until she had it memorized, then, and only then, would she attempt the intricate painting of his iris. Making eyes was a long and tedious process that took anywhere between sixteen and occasionally up to eighty hours, even though there was a big push to go digital these days. Mistakes weren’t acceptable in Grandma’s world. Neither was digital technology. Andrea had learned early on to take the extra time and effort at the beginning to save hours of do-overs. And she loved that part of her job.
By the age of three she knew the human eye was just a hair smaller by one or two millimeters than it would eventually become, and that by the age of thirteen it would reach the full adult size. Danilo would probably need a new prosthesis at that time, if not before, but she planned to make this one to last a full decade. The boy deserved no less.
After four minutes the timer went off, alerting her that the silicone was set. Tomorrow, back in the O&A department, she’d duplicate it in wax and later reform it until it fit Dani perfectly, which would give her another excuse to see the adorable little guy. There’d be multiple reasons to see Dani, since he’d have a trial period of wearing a clear acrylic beneath his patch for fitting purposes for the next month while she re-created his iris.
“I’m all done. What do you think about that?” She gently eased out the silicone cast from his eye socket, brow line and upper cheek.
“Okay.”
“And it didn’t hurt, did it?”
He shook his head. She showed him what the cast looked like and he made a funny face, which made her laugh, then she carefully put the partial facial and eye-socket cast into a protective carrying case. Dani watched every move she made, as if she might be taking part of his face with her. She handed him a mirror to see she’d left all of him behind. He stoically studied himself, missing eye and all, which made her want to brighten him up.
Andrea raised her brows and pressed her lips together before talking. “Did you know I brought you a present?”
His other eye widened. “No.” So serious.
“I brought you my favorite stuffed frog.” She reached into her backpack and pulled out the bean-stuffed toy that used to sit on her computer monitor at work. She’d grabbed it on a whim just before she’d left tonight. “His name is Ribbit.”
Dani giggled again. “I like him.”
“Here. He’s yours. You earned him for being so good.” She offered him the toy, and he reached for it without hesitation.
“What do you say?” For the first time in the entire process Sam spoke up.
“Thank you.”
She couldn’t help herself and kissed his forehead. “You are welcome.”
Sam cleared his throat. “Can I make you some tea or coffee?”
“Tea sounds good. Thanks.” There was a strange expression in Sam’s eyes when theirs met, as if maybe he’d been touched by the interchange with her and Dani as much as she had.
Dani played happily with his frog as Andrea helped put the eye patch back on. “There. Now you look like a pirate.”
“I don’t like pirate.”
“When I make your new eye, you won’t need to wear the patch anymore.”
He touched the patch and tugged on it. “Okay.”
“Hey, is this your truck?” She crawled over to a pile of toys in the corner of the room. “May I play with it?” The boy quickly followed her and laughed when she made a vroom-vroom sound, pushing the red truck around the carpet, while waiting for Sam to make the tea.
Next they played building blocks, and Dani took great pleasure in letting her build her colorful tower, only to knock it down the instant she’d finished. She pretended to be upset, folding her arms and pouting, but the boy saw right through her. Mostly what they did was laugh, giggle, tease each other and horse around until Sam showed up with the tea.
“I hate to break up the play, Dani, but it’s time to get you ready for bed.”
Dani acted upset. He pushed out his lower lip and crossed his chubby arms just like Andrea had done a few moments before, but she knew it was all a show. He’d been rubbing his right eye when they’d played, like any little kid who was getting sleepy. When he thought she wasn’t looking, he’d even yawned.
“Oh, jammies,” Andrea said, to distract him from his pout. “I bet you’ve got really cool jammies.”
“My jammies have trucks,” he said, his sweet single-eyed gaze waiting for her reaction.
“Trucks! I think you already know how much I love trucks.”
She was positive she saw him puff out his chest. Sam offered his hand and Dani took it, looking happily up at his father. The moment went still in her mind like a photograph, as she admired the sweet boy with the loving new parent he’d had the good fortune to find. But before he left the room she called after him. “Dani, don’t forget your frog.”
He trotted back to take it and gave her one last smile before running off to his father’s waiting hand, then walking with him down the hall. Andrea sat on the plush carpet and sipped her fragrant chamomile tea, her heart aching for a precious little boy with one eye. The warm tea helped smooth out the lump in her throat, but there was no way she’d soon forget Dani.
A large framed black-and-white photograph on the opposite wall caught her attention. She carried her tea over to it and counted eight kids with a mother and father, all grinning, on someone’s front lawn. She studied the enlarged grainy family photo and determined that the boy third from the end might possibly be Sam Marcus. Or maybe he was second in? Come to think of it, there wasn’t a very strong family resemblance.
A tallish woman with a broad smile and clear-looking
