Chapter 26

The man had gotten no less than twenty men, all experienced movers, to literally disassemble our lives. Not just the apartment and that was no small task in my humble opinion, but our lives. Bank accounts were moved, credit scores upgraded—dramatically—the whole ball of wax. And, no not with my permission! Oh, I did have a heads up that it was all going to happen, but it happened without my damn permission, and yes, that did bug me.

However, it didn’t happen without Lana’s permission. And she gave her permission without stint or prejudice of any kind. And, yes, I was a little peeved by it all, but well it was what it was. Abigail said I wouldn’t be sorry. Well, I’m not sure that I wasn’t, but whatever.

I was very skittish about moving into the guest house of the Casa de Cord. I should mention here that Casa de Cord is the nomenclature of choice of Mister Cord. It was still castle Cord to me. Not only had we been moved by the platoon of movers, but everything had been unpacked and put away by them. And lest I forget, the larder and the frig were full as well. I should also say that how grateful I was that somebody had thought to leave a six pack of IPA in the damn frig. Yes indeed. I was more than appreciative of that!

The man was certainly putting on the dog for us, or, at least for Lana. It was all way over the top as far as I was concerned. I didn’t know how much money the Cords had, but it was clearly way way up there.

The plane had delivered him, Owen, in half a day. Herr Schiller was in. He was an old guy, but to Owen Cord that just meant he was experienced. Experience always trumped everything else, well, in Owen Cord’s experience.

“Mister Cord,” said Doctor Herr Schiller, “nice to meet you.”

“You too, sir,” said Owen.

“You have a special case, so your man informed me,” said Herr Schiller.

“Yes, very special. War injuries,” said Owen.

“To the Soldat’s face is my understanding,” said the man.

“Yes, sir,” said Owen.

“Do you have his records with you? Your man said you would,” he said.

He produced a folder from his briefcase, and passed it to the doctor across from him.

The doctor opened the folder and gave a cursory assessment to the contents.

“I see. Very special.

“It is possible to repair. The man is going to be much better after the procedures,” he said. “My assistant will schedule an appointment for the series of operations to begin, and we will go from there,” said Herr Schiller.

“Wonderful,” said Owen.

The flight back to the States was long but not direct to Arizona. There would be another stop in

Maryland. John’s Hopkins had the top eye surgeon in the country: Doctor Cameron Willis.

The meeting with Doctor Willis was successful. Owen Cord had good news all around. Apart from the two principals, Abigail Cord would likely be the happiest individual in the state of Arizona.

“I dared not hope. Really, Owen, I dared not hope. But this, this is almost too much. And, you say the German doctor said he’d be able to fix him?” said Abigail.

“He said, he’d be a lot better. Probably not like he was twenty years ago, but significantly improved looks. No more ugly, my words, his meaning,” said Owen.

“I almost don’t want to be there when you tell him, them,” said Abigail. “It’s going to be a very emotional moment.”

“You are sure right about that,” he said.

The couple in the Casa had not bothered us since we’d moved in some three weeks gone. We’d all been around each other, but it was always either at the big house or in the mini-park that was technically their back yard.

But someone was knocking on our door now and I was betting it had to be one of them. I wheeled over to it, and opened it. I was right.

“Owen. Come in,” I said.

“Thanks,” he said.

“So what’s going on?” I said.

“I have news, and rather than beat around the bush I’m just going to say it. Your face can be fixed and an appointment for the initial procedures to begin—there will be several—has already been made,” he said. “You’ll be travelling to Germany in three weeks.”

“My face? My face is going to be fixed?” I said. My response was almost a question. I’ been told that there was no way it could be fixed.

“Yes, there’s this doctor in Germany. He’s apparently not just your average plastic surgeon. This guy’s an artist, and has very special techniques that he employs for operations of this sort. He’s costly, and there are risks, but in your case that should not be a problem. Sam, this one’s on me for all of the problems and miscues that Abigail and I have been guilty of in dealing with you. Like I said before, just let me do my thing here. Maybe this will allow you to have a seriously improved life,” he said.

“Oh my,” I said. At least I was sitting down, well, I was always sitting down. But if I had been standing; I would have had to take a seat for damn sure. I had a thought?”

“I just wish Lana could see me, but not till after the operations obviously.” And I started to laugh—hysterically.

“Yes, well she is going to be having her eyes fixed too. But she will be getting hers done before you begin your procedures. It was a matter of scheduling. But you’ll be in Germany before she’s finished, so she likely won’t be seeing you until after the fact. But Sam, I wasn’t able to find a way to fix your legs. Maybe someday but...” He said.

“It’s okay, but my face... , “ I said.

“The doctor didn’t bat an eyelash. He saw your records and he just announced that you’d be a lot better looking after the procedures. It’s a question of how much better, but a lot better were his exact words,” said Owen.

“Thank God!” I said. “And Lana is going to be good afterwards too?” I said.

“Yes. And her procedures will be here in the States not Germany. At Johns Hopkins actually. It turns out that her particular situation was a matter of timing. The news for her would have been bad, but a new procedure that has finally been cleared for application in the United States can do for her what needs to be done,” he said. “Which begs the question, where is Lana?”

“She’s in the shower. Might be a bit before she traipses out here. I almost wanna join her to tell her right now. But I’ll wait a bit before I, we, do,” I said.

My cuckolder laughed. He was happy. Seemingly almost as happy as me. I would sure have felt a bit better if my legs could’ve been fixed too, but my face was the biggee. No more ugly Sam. My kids would be able to stand being around me. Man this was a day. It literally made up for all of the bad that the two people in the big house had heaped on me. His money was doing it. But, the way I saw things his money was just an extension of him.

There was the sound of a door slamming down the hall. The woman of the house was about to be made to feel real good.

“Owen!” She exclaimed. Her hair was still wrapped in a turban, and her robe was only loosely tied. She was naked underneath.

“Yes,” he said. “But...”

“We blind people can’t see but we can hear and smell better than most. I knew you were here the minute I walked in the room,” she said.

“Lana, Owen has something to tell you,” I said.

“Okay?” she said.

“Lana, you will be getting your sight back,” he said.

“Huh?” she said.

“Yes, you will be flying back East to Maryland, Johns Hopkins, for the procedure,” he said.

“But, I was told that I could never be fixed,” she said.

“There’s a new technique or tools or what all. You’ll be fixable now,” he said.

“Oh my God!” She screamed. She suddenly stopped. “But... ?”

“And Sam is going to be fixed up too,” He said.

“His face?” she said.

“Yes,” he said. “At any rate, Sam can fill you in. I know the two of you have things to talk about. So I’ll be going. But we’ll be getting together for dinner tonight. That good for the two of you?”

“For sure,” I said. “We’ll be there.”

“Yes,” said Lana, “of course.”

Lana had been gone for almost two weeks. She’d be home in one more. I was flying out in 24 hours, so she wouldn’t see me because I would already be in Germany beginning the treatments that would restore me to acceptable good looks. I had my fingers crossed real tight hoping that there would be no snafus.