Leather and Lace

~ Good Samaritan ~

Anna Kendrick as Ashe up top!

Grace's POV:

"Come on sleepy head! You said that you'd go to town with me. And I'm not letting you get out of it yet again." Groaning I grabbed my pillow and rolled over with it covering my head. I wasn't a morning person and Ashe knew this and yet she insisted on doing this. When the pillow was snatched from me I rolled and sat up aiming a glare in her direction. She laughed and told me. "I'm over here, babes. And that look doesn't work on me." Mumbling under my breath I threw the blankets off me and swing my legs over the side of the bed. My hand automatically reaching for the cane that rests on the nightstand. I carefully slid out of bed yawning.

After mom and dad's funeral Ashe had moved in and had taken over my old room. I had moved into my parent's room. It took me a while to readjust to my sleeping arrangements. Four steps to the side, and six across. I counted the steps to myself as I made my way to the bathroom for my shower. To help me navigate my surroundings I learned to count my steps from my current location to my destination. It took a while to map out the entire house and to memorize everything. In the beginning, I bumped into a lot of things giving me all kinds of bumps and bruises. When the more I got into the swing of things the less bumped into anything.

Being blind was a challenge but seven years after the accident, I've learned to overcome the new obstacles in my life. My new way of living has become a new sort of natural to me. As soon as I walk into the bathroom I turn to the right where the towels were kept; opening the door I grab the first one my hand touches before shutting it again. Three steps forward, two to the left. Resting my cane against the wall beside the toilet I strip out of my clothes and turn the water on. After testing the waters I slip in under the spray. Reach to the right, four hands down and to the left. Opening the bottle of shampoo I count to five and lather my hair with shampoo working it through the strands of my hair and into my scalp. The self-massage felt good, especially since I've been suffering from a headache for the past couple of days.

When I woke up and the doctor gave me my diagnosis he said that any headache I had in the future would be a little less severe. In the beginning, the average amount of headaches was at least four a week. The doctors said it was natural due to my head trauma. Seven years later the headaches have lessened, but they haven't let up on the intensity. This one lasted two days, the two days that I spent in bed. I could claim another one to get out of going into town with Ashe's shopaholic self. She could spend hours shopping. I shuddered at the thought. I used to love shopping but not being able to see puts a kink in that, now I just avoid it the best I can, when I can. Unfortunately, that wasn't one of those times.

After rinsing the shampoo out I reach for the conditioner. Four hands, down one over. Leaving the conditioner on my hair while I washed the rest of me before rinsing it from my hair. Ringing the excess water from my hair out I lean forward to grab the towel and wrap it around me. Humming to myself I dry off and repeat the steps from the bathroom. Four steps to the right, one forward. I can hear Ashe somewhere in the house singing way off-key. I grimaced and shook my head. I'm always telling her not to quit her day job but she just laughs it off and continues to sing. Opening the closet door I start counting again. Three steps forward, two to the left. Reaching the wall I run my hands along with the racks of clothes.

In the process of moving in here, Ashe helped me organize my parent's walk-in closet. At my direction, she hung up my clothes according to color, style, and material. Closest to me was my t-shirts that were color-coordinated. I knew how many shirts of each color I owned so it wasn't hard too hard to find one I wanted. Six down, to the right. Moving the clothes along the racks I run my hands over my clothes until I find a blue v necked t-shirt. I continued to feel around until I came across my favorite pair of Levi shorts. Throwing both over my shoulder I turn around and walk out of my closet. Eight steps to the right, twelve across the room. Reaching the top of my dresser I pull the top drawer open and felt around. It was always a challenge trying to get a bra on before my accident. It was even more challenging afterward. Once I came out of my depression I started refusing to allow people to help me put my bra on. I've had to deal with the indignity of having people help me with other things in life.