# 60 – Like a Cyclops with Allergies

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Bruce was pretty much right.  They didn’t dilate her pupils, but both of her eyes were puffy and red.  The lid of the left eye was sealed shut with a thick ointment, and yes, a bandage covered the whole thing.  It turned out to be a scratched cornea.  The doctor said she would be fine within a week.  At the moment, she felt like a Cyclops with allergies.  Liza got off the elevator on the wrong floor twice, slipped on ice in the parking garage, and bashed her knee with the car door.  She was grateful that Bruce was there to drive her home.  Neither of them mentioned the comment she made earlier.  They coasted down the snowy highway in silence.

By the time they parked on Liza’s block, six or seven inches of snow had fallen.  What if she was right?  Liza couldn’t stand the thought of Bruce wandering around the City coatless in a snowstorm.  Liza frowned.  She hated him for making her care.  “Do you want to borrow my car to take…home?  I’m off until after Christmas.  I won’t need it for a few days.”

Bruce was quiet for a minute, then shook his head, turned off the car, and handed her the keys.  “Thank you for the offer.”

“Ok,” said Liza, accepting the keys.  How was she going to do this?

“Are you going to be ok getting up to the house?” asked Bruce.

“Yes.”

Bruce eyed the three sets of steps that led up to the front door.  “Here, let me walk you.”

“I’m fine, seriously.  If I can’t make it up a few steps, then I’m in trouble,” said Liza.

“Why?”

“I have to shovel, do laundry, and put my Christmas tree up.”  There, hopefully that was enough without being too obvious.

“What?!  You can’t do all that.  Didn’t the doctor tell you to rest your eyes?”

“You’re right.  I should stay inside, read a book, watch some TV.  That would be easier on my eyes,” said Liza. 

Bruce took a deep breath.  “Why can’t Laura do it?”

“Laura’s gone.  I threw her out after Casey…oh.  Casey died,” said Liza.  Yikes.  She’d had to break the news to so many people over the past few months, she’d become a little desensitized.

“I’m sorry about Casey,” said Bruce.  He didn’t look surprised.  Liza nodded.  She was thinking about the story Bruce had written for her niece.  They were both quiet for a while.  Bruce finally broke the silence.  “So, who lives here now?”

“Me.”

“That’s it?” asked Bruce.

“Yep.”

Bruce plucked the keys out of her hand and marched around the car.  He opened her door and held out his hand.  “Come on.  I’m going to help you inside and then I’m going to shovel your walk,” said Bruce.

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