At the end of the long driveway, Kathy turns on the blinker and looks out her window. “Let me know when it’s clear on your end, Mim.”
God, that sky is a perfect cobalt blue. A natural, pure, new blue. I’ve never noticed how beautiful that blue is until now.
“Is it clear?” asks Kathy, still staring out the driver-side window.
I turn sideways in my seat, look at the back of her head, and realize—my stepmother is a complete stranger. I don’t know the first thing about her, not really. And I’ve never told her anything about myself, for that matter.
“Mim? We clear?”
I am Mary Iris Malone, and I see all things new.
“I’m blind,” I whisper. “In my right eye.”
Because sometimes a thing’s not a thing until you say it out loud.