Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Emma heard someone moving around in the room, but she was so tired, she didn’t even really register that fact till she heard the door to the room shut. She opened her eyes, seeing a furry black body next to her; she petted it, and then sat up, looking around the room.
No one was there. The chair Henry was in last night was placed back by the small coffee table next to it’s mate, and there was a tea tray sitting there with a used cup in front of it.
She heard voices downstairs, and then the front door shutting. She got out of bed, a little wobbly, and made her way to the floor length windows in the bedroom that faced the front of the house. She pulled the heavy curtains back a little, and saw Henry getting into his car. He looked up, and smiled as he saw her. He waved, got in, and started the car.
She watched as he backed out and went down the street. She felt sadden that he was leaving, even though she knew he would be home, at least, later this evening. She turned around, feeling snug in the oversized sweeter and sweatpants that she was wearing, something that was probably Henry’s, and looked around the room again. The kittens were snug in the blanket by the cold fireplace, and the cats were stirring on the bed.
Her attention peaked when she saw something on the dresser propped up on the pitcher of water. She climbed over the bed, LB protesting the fact he was once again being disturbed, Charlotte lolling around near her side mewing for attention, and picked up the object: a letter addressed with her name, written in Henry’s handwriting.
She instantly didn’t feel lonely anymore, as if Henry was there besides being out of the house and physically away. It felt as if he was right there beside her.
She felt shy, for some reason. She had never felt this way about just a letter before… What was it going to say? That she should leave? She was instantly worried and sat back dropping the letter on the bed, looking at it.
LB went over to sniff it, as Charlotte went over and laid down, and started lolling around on it. Emma had to giggle at the cat. It was as if Henry was here anyway. She laid on the bed and watched the cats: Charlotte stopped lolling as LB came over, and looked up at him as she laid on her back. He sniffed her, making a noise as if to make her move so he could look at the letter. She playfully put her paw up to LB’s head, and he mewed in protest, backing up. Charlotte turned over, and went over to him looking apologetic.
Emma had to giggle again. It really was as if it were her and Henry. Emma pulled LB towards her.
“She’s ok LB. I can tell… She just wants to play…..”
Emma placed LB down, and watched as Charlotte came up to LB and sniffed him, and he let her, and she started licking his face and head.
LB started purring a little, and laid down, Charlotte following, still licking his head.
Emma smiled at them, thinking about the previous night and what Henry had said. She didn’t realize what he had meant at the time because Rosemary had come in, and she was happy with LB there, but he had paid her a complement: That she was smart.
Perhaps…perhaps that was Henry’s way: He saw people as smart as him, and thus treated them as if they were. Did he really think she was as smart as him? She felt, for lack of a better description of the feeling, loved and honored. Well, a little bit. Mostly she felt confused: What did she ever do to have him treat her like this? She didn’t dwell on it, picking up Henry’s letter and opening it.
She read it, and was instantly happy. He was making his excuses for leaving so early without saying goodbye, he staid as long as he could, but he had a meeting. He would be back that afternoon, but only for a few hours, then it was to the college for his other work. He would be home late after that, and she shouldn’t wait up for him, that she needed her rest.
She reread it over twice, hearing Henry’s voice in her head as she did, and feeling like she did the previous night when she heard his singing. She laid on the bed, mindful of the now content looking LB who was still being washed by Charlotte, hugging the letter, careful not to wrinkle it too much.
She folded it carefully and tucked it into its envelope, and under the pillow the cats were on. She was happy for some reason, and it had to do with a piece of paper…
She snuggled up into the warm clothing, coughing and wishing she didn’t have too. But as she looked at the pillow where the letter was, she instantly felt better again. It was a magical piece of paper wasn’t it? Some kind of talisman that could cure the sick, yet could not cure them?
She remembered the Sunflower and Moonflower that he had given her, saying he had stopped the moon and sun, that here they were for her… She thought that was stupid at the time, utterly, moronically, idiotically stupid, but how could she think that now that she thought that a piece of paper could make her better, yet she was still sick?
Unaware, she fell asleep pondering her feelings.
ஜ♥ღ♥ஜ♥ஜ♥ღ♥ღ♥ஜ♥ღ♥ஜ
She woke up to the sound of soft rythmatic breathing close by. Opening her eyes, she saw Henry asleep next to her on the bed.
She about died.
“Hush and stop fretting.” Henry said opening one eye slowly. He didn’t smile, but just closed his eye slowly, “I’m just tired, and I didn’t want to sleep in the chair.”
“But the bed?” Emma hissed in a small whisper. She moved a little father away from him, “Henry… We haven’t even kissed yet!”
“Ah.” Said Henry opening his eyes and looking at her seriously, “So then there is little chance I would do anything else to you then, right?”
Emma stopped her mind in her tracks and thought about it for a moment. She had no idea how long he had been there, and she had been asleep, and if he had wanted to do anything to her, then there would have been ample enough time. She put her finger in her mouth and looked down the bed at the door to the room.
Between Emma and Henry laid the two kittens, and the two cats. She widened her eyes when she saw LB look up, yawn, then lay his head back down onto the body of Charlotte.
“I thought that some sort of innocence should be good enough to ensure that if you woke, I could blame my not taking any violating action on the cats.” He said. She looked at him, and saw that he had one eye closed again, and a small smile, “Those kittens are too pure to violate their minds… Yet….”
Emma didn’t know what to do: She wanted to giggle, yet strangle the man.
She decide that it was fine, and put her head back to the place it was, and watched as Henry closed his eye, and his small smile fade.
He was dressed in a suit, no tie was on, but she knew he had to of taken it off. In all the time she had known him, he always wore a tie to work, and nice dress shoes. His jacket was off too, and she could see for once he wore something strange under his undershirt.
She didn’t realize it till now, as she touched his arm, that he had always worn long sleeved shirts. Always. Even during warm spring days, and hotish summer afternoons. And now that his jacket was off, and she was up close to him, she saw the strange undergarment that he wore on his forearm and upper arm.
Henry pulled his arm away as she moved her hand down his arm trying feel it. She looked at him, and saw his eyes wide open, and staring at her. He said nothing, but put his arm in front of him, and “hid” it by rolling over and laying on it.
She felt like a little child doing something wrong. She pulled her hand away and looked back at him, as he looked away.
“I’m fine.” he said taking a deep breath, rolling back, and looking at her. “It’s something…. I’d rather not talk about now.”
He smiled at her with the smile he gave her last night. He then took the hand he had “hid” and placed it in her hair. It was as if to tell her what she had done wasn’t her fault, and that she had done nothing wrong, and that the look she felt on her face was not suppose to be there.
“If you wish.” She said pressing her head into his hand to let him feel the feeling she felt.
She wanted Henry back. This wasn’t him! He was so happy, yet he looked as if she had hit him over and over and over… She felt so sad, and wanted to make him happy. It was a happy feeling she wanted to share with him, and if it was a memory that was something he didn’t want to share at the moment, then it surely made him feel sad. Didn’t it? So she wanted him to be happy, like he always was.
She closed her eyes and felt like a cat. She moved towards him and pressed her head into his chest, ignoring the protests from the other occupants of the bed. Right now she wanted to be his LB, to be his Charlotte, and to comfort him like he did her last night.
“Oh!” she said looking at him suddenly, “I wanted to apologize to you!”
“For what?” he said looking at her with a small smile.
He moved his arm around her side, and his hand to her back. It felt nice that he was there with her. Secure.
She scrunched up her face a little and looked away, “Well, I just started blubbering last night, and I made a mess of your shirt and hankys… and I must have seemed so uncontrolled, so weak...”
“Not at all.” He said. She looked at him surprised. It must have showed because he gave a small chuckle and smiled a little, He sighed and still smiled at her. He then began to stroke her hair, “People who cry to the person they love the most, are the bravest people on Earth. You open your heart, your fears, and feelings up, to be vulnerable for a moment: The bravest thing in the world." He narrowed his eyes, a soft, reassuring smile to her, "It's what makes you wonderful to me Emma... What made me love you when I first saw you..." She remembered that moment: She had shown a complete stranger compassion for one moment, and open herself up... It was brave of her wasn't it? Henry continued, “And as for crying? Crying is one way our body tells us we are stressed… It’s a way to release all the pent up emotions of a trying time. That is why when, say, someone or something we love dies, we cry for no reason. It’s a way of letting go of the anger, sadness, and stress of the situation.
“You, no doubt,” he said moving her bangs from her eyes, “Had a very good reason to cry last night, and I had a very good reason to be there for you.”
Emma looked at him and felt as if she had stopped breathing. She blinked a few times and then felt herself take a deep breath. He was there for her wasn’t he? She looked back on the past few days and thought about it, and realized one constant thing about him: He was always at her side.
Even the letter. The letter was him, and was at her side when he was outside the house that morning. Besides from his work or business downstairs, he was there wasn’t he?
“What reason do you have for doing things like that for me?” she said angrily, “I’m not worth it!”
“Oh…” he said smiling and moving his face closer, “But you are to me.”
She felt so angry, she felt like crying. But it wasn’t anger was it? It felt different, indescribable. She said nothing but averted her face, and he continued, “You see, I have money Emma, I’ve told you that. I don’t care what I spend it on, it’s worth nothing to me. To me, my real wealth I measure in the love I share with my family and friends.” She felt him move her face up, and felt tears on the edge of her eyes. He smiled, and brushed them off, “You and Kenna, you are the most valuable things in the world to me. If I loose this house, my money, my job…. As long as you two live, I am the richest man alive.”
“What about Rachel?” she sniffed, not really knowing where that came from, “You love her!”
“I loved her Emma.” he said, his smile instantly gone, he looked at her seriously in the eyes, “I feel blessed by her memory, and for that, I am grateful with having known her.” He then looked at her sadly, “I made her a promise, one I intend to keep, that I would never be married to another unless I loved them as much as I did her.” He smiled at her, “My heart knows no greater love now, than my love for you and my daughter.” Emma sniffled again, her nose clogging up, Henry took out a hanky from his back pocket, and wiped her eyes, saying, “And I made a promise to you too didn’t I? That I would tell you the truth always.” Emma let a large chuckle escape. That much was true. She had made him swear on “pain of death” he would tell the truth to her. She then saw his smile as he lifted the hanky away, “Well, I will lie sometimes… I can’t be romantic and truthful at the same time… It would spoil everything….”
Emma laughed and sniffed greatly, coughing in the process. He started laughing at her, and she hit him twice: once for the lying statement, and the other for laughing. But all he did was continue to laugh, and she found herself laughing too.
He smiled once more at her as he calmed down, and held out his hanky.
“Blow your nose, and then we can rest before lunch…”
“Ok.” She said smiling and taking the fabric.
He smiled back at her, and she knew it was real. She blew her nose, and as she gave back the hanky, and he said “Ew!!!”, throwing it across the room, earning him another hit. She suddenly realized then, that all his smiles that he had ever given her were real too.
Perhaps he was what she thought he was: A really nice man.
~Fin~
