The next few days passed without incident. Friday night came and Heather sat in her room in her long satin gown, brushing her hair slowly. After the attack, her hair looked like it had been butchered by a cosmetology student practicing for the first time. She studied her uneven hair where a large section was shorter than the other. The uneven portion came down to her chin, where they had cut much of it away to get a better view of her wound. A sigh escaped her lips as she stared with desperation at the unbalanced mess on top of her head.
What can I do to fix it?
A smile formed on Heather’s face as an idea flooded her mind. She rose to her feet and searched around the room until she found her sewing kit. Heather pulled out a pair of sharp fabric scissors and made her way over to the mirror where she carefully trimmed off pieces of her hair until it all rested evenly under her chin. Taking advantage of the opportunity to change her look, she even decided to give herself some bangs to try out something new.
She modeled her hair in front of the mirror a few more times before she felt satisfied with her work. As Heather began separating the tangles in her hair with a brush, she wondered how Michael would respond to her new look. Will he like it? Will he still look at me with those piercing eyes? Heather shook her head in doubt. She could only pray that Michael appreciated her for who she was and not for her looks.
She took an extra few seconds to scrutinize herself in the mirror. Was there anything else he would appreciate about me? She knew she wasn’t anything like Miss Wilson. If the two were competing in a beauty pageant, Heather couldn’t compare to his fiancée’s tall and shapely body. She had never worn towering heels, nor could she pull off fitting into some of the stylish outfits Miss Wilson wore; or at least that’s what she believed.
The corners of her lips turned down into a frown as she set her brush down on the white French vanity. What difference did any of it make? Michael was getting married, and it was best for her to try and forget all about him ... and what she felt for him.
A loud knock snapped her out of her thoughts, and she cautiously made her way next to the door, pressing her ear against the cool wood surface.
“Who’s there?” she whispered. Heather could feel her muscles tighten as thoughts of her attacker terrorized her mind.
A deep voice resounded through the solid door. “It’s Michael; I just got home and . . . Miss Archer made some scones and ... well, I wanted to know if you’d like to join me for some tea?”
Heather could sense his awkwardness. Her heart quickened for a moment. Do the right thing. He's a taken man. You can’t be alone with him. Her lips responded without thinking.
“I’d like that; I’ll meet you down in the kitchen in a few moments ... I ... have to get dressed.”
Heather bit her lip. So much for doing the right thing. She slipped on her matching robe and slippers, and after taking one last glance in the mirror, she headed downstairs with a pep in her steps.
Michael laid out a simple, yet dainty lace cloth on the tabletop and began setting up cups and saucers in a formal fashion before taking a seat to wait for her. He had tried to stay away, to avoid her, especially after what she had said that night. But he couldn’t stop worrying about her and wondered why someone would hurt an innocent woman. His thoughts were interrupted by the pitter patter of footsteps approaching the room. He recognized the sweet scent of honeysuckle that drifted past the door, announcing her arrival.
No matter how much he tried to wall off his heart, Michael couldn’t resist the hypnotic effect she had on him. He lifted his head as the nurse entered the room wearing a delicate midnight blue silk dress. His jaw relaxed as she made her way over to him, stopping in front of a small table lamp that illuminated her gorgeous silhouette. The sight was almost angelic to him. His eyes rested on the hair that framed her face in a way that made her look like a doll, perfect and beautiful. Almost too perfect for him. He grimaced at the thought and stood as she entered the room.
“I like your hair,” he said without hesitation, smiling inside as he watched Heather’s cheeks flush a bright pink.
“Thanks, it was a mess, and I felt this style might help.” Without thinking, she caressed the ends of her hair. There was a smile pinned on Michael’s face as he gestured to the chair next to him. She walked over and sat down, admiring how nicely he had arranged everything.
For the next hour, they enjoyed tea and scones, giggling like high school sweethearts as they made small talk about foods they enjoyed and places they wanted to travel to. Heather had rarely seen Michael in such a relaxed state, and she wished he was like this more often.
“I don’t mean to be nosy, but you’re in such good spirits tonight. Has work been productive?” She looked at him with her fully undivided attention.
“Why yes.” Michael tilted his head as he gazed into her eyes. “Actually, I’m finally wrapping up a large project at work, and it’s nice to have the weight off my back.” He poured her some more tea.
“Well, good; I’m happy for you, Michael. I’ve been praying for good things to happen with your work.” A smile spread across her lips. “Good things can happen when you ask God for them. We just have to remember that He will do things in His perfect timing, not ours.” She nibbled on another scone.
“Hmm.” Michael said nothing as he took another sip of his tea.
Heather took his silence as an improvement, a positive sign his walls of stubbornness were beginning to crumble. She hoped that in time, Michael would renew his relationship with the Almighty. She decided not to push her luck and quickly changed the subject.
“Evelyn seems very excited about this weekend.” She tried to sound enthusiastic but wasn’t sure if it convinced Michael.
“Yes, I’m sure she is ... she’s always wanted to go. But I’ve been really worried about how it may affect her illness. I still feel a bit uneasy about it, but it’s what she wants. And I want to give her all that I can while I’m able.” He took another sip of his tea.
“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about; I’m a little worried about it. She’s been a little nauseous lately, more than normal, and has had a stuffy nose as well.” Heather set her cup down. “I guess I’m concerned about her getting sick from the amusement park while being on her medication, and the combination making her feel worse.”
“She has the anti-nausea medication, doesn’t she?” Michael stopped sipping his tea to look over at her.
“Well, yes, but that doesn’t stop germs or viruses, Michael. Your daughter has an incurable form of leukemia, and any exposure to a virus or bacteria can make her extremely sick. We can’t protect her from other people there who may be sick.”
“That’s why I hired you, Miss Parks, to protect Evelyn so that she stays safe.” There was an edge to his voice, but he caught himself and stopped.
“I understand that, but I’m not a miracle worker. I can’t protect her from viruses I can’t see.” Heather felt her shoulder muscles stiffen as she tried to reason with him.
“What if she wears a mask? Wouldn’t that help?”
Heather could see that Michael was being stubborn. “It’ll help, but I can’t guarantee that it will fully protect her.” She focused on her empty teacup. Why was he being combative? She only wanted what was best for Evelyn and wanted him to be prepared for the worst case scenario.
“Listen, Heather, we don’t know what the future holds for Evelyn. I’m simply trying to make her as happy as I can. I want her to enjoy life as much as her sickness will allow, just in case she ...” He hesitated for a moment before sucking in a breath. “I just want her to be happy. Our relationship has been difficult since Carla passed, and I feel like I’m finally getting my chance to change that. I don’t want to ruin it now.”
He ran his fingers through his hair and forced a heavy sigh. “I never want anything bad to happen to her, and I don’t want her sickness to get any worse. But it’s only one day ... not even a full day. Surely she’ll be okay ... ”
Heather could see the pain in the twisted expression on his face, and she decided it was best to end their discussion before it agitated him. Her heart ached for him, and she wished she could lift his pain.
“I really should be getting to bed now, Michael. I just wanted to share my concerns with you about her frequent nausea. I wouldn’t be doing my job if I didn’t.” She smiled tenderly at him, hoping it would lift the tension between them.
Without warning, Michael gently reached over and took hold of her hand. A jolt of excitement raced through Heather’s body as the sensation of his skin next to hers caused an explosion of electricity up her arm. Heather couldn’t help being drawn to his gentle eyes.
“I’m glad you’re here, Heather. I really am. These past few months have been easier ... because of you. I can’t get over the fact you were attacked, and I blame myself that you were hurt while staying here. I just wish I could find the coward who was responsible so there can be justice and closure about the whole thing.” He gently rubbed his thumb over her wrist. Heather tried to disguise the weakness in her legs and struggled to maintain her balance.
Get out of here, Heather before you do something you’ll regret later.
She willed her body to move, but escaping a straightjacket would have been easier than pulling away from the Adonis next to her.
“I ... I know, Michael ... I do too.” She stumbled over her words. “But I can’t help believing that God was watching over me that day. Things could have been very different.” She lifted her head as if to acknowledge God’s protection over her.
“Perhaps ... ” Heather’s words deflated any attraction Michael had. He couldn’t ignore the irritation building up inside. How could this gullible woman thank a God who couldn’t protect her? He maintained his stubborn pride. Even though deep down, he knew she was right; he couldn’t find it in himself to admit it to her, or himself. No, there was no way he was going to submit his heart to a God he couldn’t understand. He released her hand and watched as she stood to go. “Heather ...” he called after her and she turned back around in response to her name.
“Yes, Michael?”
“What do you think of Cynthia? I mean, for Evelyn?” He slumped back into his chair, staring at their empty glasses.
Heather took a deep breath and sighed, surprised by his question. “I hardly think my opinion matters.” She tried to keep a straight face.
“It matters to me ... for Evelyn, you know?” he glanced at her as she looked away deep in thought.
“To be honest; I’m not sure. When she does drop by, she seems to try and get along with Evelyn, but I don’t know what her true intentions are ... something just seems off.”
He looked back toward the window and abruptly dismissed her. “Thank you, Heather, I’ll see you tomorrow.”