“Hi,” she said, stepping inside onto expensive-looking white tile in the narrow entryway. “This must be Dani.” She moved closer to the little boy, raised her brows and gave a closed-mouth smile. He buried his face in his father’s shoulder. Ack, too much.
“Bashful,” Sam mouthed.
She nodded and pretended to ignore the adorable little person after that, as Sam bypassed the living room and walked her into the more inviting family room. It was large, square, open and with excellent sources of natural light from tall windows nearly covering one entire wall of the boxy ‘50s architecture. As it was late April, the sun stuck around longer and longer, and though his house abutted mixed-tree-covered hills and stood on metal stilts at the front, the angle at this time of day was perfect for maximum light. A thick brown carpet made her want to kick off her shoes and walk barefoot. Not sure what to do next, she set her backpack and art box aka fishing-tackle box on the classic stone fireplace hearth, then glanced up at Sam. The previously upturned corners of his mouth had stretched into a genuine smile.
She’d given herself a stern talking-to the afternoon they’d made the appointment for letting herself send and pick up on some kind of natural attraction vibes arcing between them. The man was a father! Probably married. How many do-overs would she need with this guy?
Shifting her gaze from Sam, she secretly studied Dani so as not to send him into ostrich mode again. She was admittedly surprised that Dani wasn’t a mini-me of Sam. He looked Asian, Filipino maybe? Was he adopted? And Sam didn’t wear a wedding ring, which made her wonder if he might not be married, but she figured she’d find out soon enough once his wife or significant other made an appearance.
“That’s as good a place as any to set up,” he said, easing Dani down onto his own two feet. “I hope the lighting is good enough.”
“This should be perfect.”
Dani immediately ran toward his stack of toys.
“Um, should I wait for your wife?”
“I’m not married. I adopted Dani on my own.” Sam sat on the large wraparound couch and put his feet up on the circular ottoman at the center.
“That’s fantastic.” Don’t sound so enthusiastic! “The adoption part, I mean.” The only men she knew in Los Angeles who adopted kids on their own were gay. Dr. Marcus clearly didn’t fall into that category if she read that subtle humming interest between them right.
“I knew what you meant.” A kind gaze came winging her way, and she felt her anxiety over making a dumb remark take a step down.
“Does he speak English?”
“They spoke both English and Tagalog at the orphanage. He’s superbright and picks up more and more words every day.” Spoken like a proud papa.
She found the boy busy with a colorful toy TV controller, punching buttons and listening to sounds and jingles, and dropped to her knees. “So, Dani, may I look under your patch?”
The black-haired toddler, who was small for his age, kept his head down, staring at the gadget in his hand, as he let her gingerly remove the child-sized patch. She’d seen empty eye socket after empty eye socket in the four years since she’d started the apprenticeship, but this was her first toddler. Grandma had given her a pep talk that afternoon about how much she believed in Andrea’s talent and technical skills, and truth was she knew she’d caught on quickly to the long and tedious process of re-creating matching eyes for the eyeless. But this was a beautiful little kid, and her heart squeezed every time she looked at him, thinking this was way too early for anyone to need a prosthetic. But was there ever a good age?
She’d worn stretch slacks, so she sat cross-legged beside him in order to be at his level. “I need to make a little cast to fit your face, Dani. Will you let me do that?”
The boy looked at his father, who reassured him it was okay with a slow, deep nod.
“It won’t hurt, I promise, but it might feel strange and cold for a little while.” With adult patients it was so much easier to explain the process. She’d just have to wing it with Dani. “May I take some pictures of your eye, too?”
“Eye gone,” he said, slapping his palm over the left socket, as if she didn’t know.
“This eye.” She pointed to the right one.
“Okay.” She could hardly hear him.
“Thank you.” She blinked when he glanced up. “Do you ever play with clay?”
He nodded shyly.
“This stuff is kind of like clay. Want to watch?”
“Okay.”
“Here, you can touch it.”
He did but immediately pulled back his hand at the feel of the foreign, gooey substance.
Andrea worked quickly to make enough casting gel to press into the empty socket area, and when it was time, Sam held Dani’s head still while she gently pressed it into the completely healed cavity. “Cold?”
“Uh-huh.”
“But it doesn’t hurt, right?”
He shook his head and they smiled at each other. He understood she hadn’t lied. A sudden urge to cuddle the boy had her skimming her clean palm across his short-cropped hair instead. “How’d you get to be so sweet?”
“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.