by ADAMS, J.
Beautiful In My Eyes
J. Adams
Copyright © 2012 J. Adams
All Rights Reserved
To Tami T.
one of my many kindred spirits.
Believe me, if all those endearing young charms,
Which I gaze on so fondly today,
Were to change by tomorrow and fleet in my arms,
Like fairy wings fading away
Thou wouldst still be adored, as this moment thou art,
Let thy loveliness fade as it will;
And around the dear ruin each wish of my heart
Would entwine itself verdantly still.
It is not while beauty and youth are thine own,
And thy cheeks unprofaned by a tear,
That the fervor and faith of a soul can be known,
To which time will but make thee more dear.
No, the heart that has truly loved never forgets,
But as truly loves on to the close:
As the sunflower turns on her god when he sets
The same look which she turned when he rose.
Thomas Moore
Charlotte, North Carolina
Mama, I don't know how to do this anymore. It's just too hard. It's hard on me, and on him most of all.
Having slept curled up in a comfortable recliner in my father's bedroom, I awaken at the sound of his alarm. I watch him where he lay, staring at the ceiling, willing himself to get up.
It is the same every year. He turns over and gently places his hand on the empty pillow, a single tear slipping across the bridge of his nose.
To the rest of the world, this day is the same as any other, but for Dad, this day is still one of great pain and sadness. It marks the three-year anniversary of my mother’s death. Emotionally, Dad has good and bad days, but their wedding anniversary is usually the hardest. So while my husband takes care of our little boy, I come over to be here for Dad. I still miss Mama more than I can say, but she had been my father's whole world.
Grabbing the pillow, he clutches it tightly to his chest as the first sob rolls forth and I go to him.
“Oh, Giselle, I miss her so much.”
“I know, Dad,” I whisper, wrapping my arms around him and rocking him gently. “I know you do.”
“I thought it would be easier by now, but it’s not. She was my whole life.”
“And you were hers,” I whisper, emotion lodged in my throat. “She loved you so much, Dad.”
He lets me hold him for a few minutes, soaking in my comfort like a lost child. Finally drawing back a little, he nods and wipes his eyes, fresh tears quickly marking new tracks down his face.
“She wants you to be happy. I know she does.”
“I know.” Heaving a deep sigh, he smiles sadly. “I believe that, too. She was, and still is one of the most selfless people I have ever known. And you take after her.”
“I don't know if I can ever reach her level.”
“You already have.” He presses a kiss to my forehead and holds me close another moment. “I will be all right, honey.” He releases me, his smile brightening. “Thank you for being here for me. And thank Julian for sacrificing you yet again.”
“I will.” I press a hand to his stubbly, handsome face and brush the lightly-graying blond hair from his forehead. “I will always be here for you, Dad. I promise.”
“Yes, I know. God gave us a wonderful gift when He sent you to us. Our little miracle. Though not so little anymore.”
“Well, no matter how old I get, I will always be your little girl.”
“I know. And I really will be all right, starting right now. I will make it through this. Thank you for being so strong for me.”
“Me? Sometimes I don't feel strong. Sometimes I feel far from it.”
“You are made of tough stuff, Giselle. After all, you are Jack and Janice Mason's stunningly-beautiful daughter. Our blood runs through your veins. There is no trial you can't handle.”
Beautiful. I close my eyes as he kisses my brow. Oh, Dad, if you only knew. I don't feel stunningly-beautiful. Not even beautiful. The small bit of vanity I once possessed has been blown away like the flame of a candle in the wind.
“Thank you, Dad.”
Chapter 1
Beauty is truth, truth beauty -- that is all ye know on earth, and all ye need to know.
John Keats
Two months later
Standing just inside the patio door, I watch Dad kneel on the grass and hold his arms out to his grandson.
“Come on, Aidan! Walk to Grampa! Come on, you can do it!”
Little Aidan takes step after tiny step until he makes it to Dad’s arms. “Good job, buddy! Good job!”
I smile as I continue watching two of the three most important men in my life. And a moment later I am wrapped in warmth as the third's arms slip around my waist. I lean back and snuggle against him, relishing his familiar comforting embrace. “You’re home early.”
“Aye,” Julian replies, kissing my cheek. “Steve didnae need as much help with the inventory as I thought. We got everythin' don' quickly. An' I postponed the readin' til next week.”
I nuzzle my face against his cheek before turning in his arms. “Well, I'm glad you're here, and the young mothers that religiously bring their kids in for story time will just have to wait a little longer to see my Scottish knight in a kilt. You should remind them to bring bibs. Wouldn't want them drooling all over the place.”
“Aye, a couple o them tried ta follow me home an' I had ta maneuver a bit ta lose them.” He smiles, tightening his embrace. “Good thin' we're acquainted with half the cops in the area or I would be gettin' regular speedin' tickets because I'm always in such a hurry ta get home ta ye.”
“It is a good thing,” I whisper just as he touches his lips to mine. Our kiss quickly deepens as his warm mouth make thorough work of heating me to the core. Whenever he kisses me, I lose all sense of time and place, and the only thing that surpasses it is when we make love. His affections never fail to affect me this way.
Hearing a throat clearing, we draw apart a little and turn, meeting Dad's wide grin, his grandson sitting on his shoulders. “Careful or you two might set the place on fire.”
I snort. “Ooooh, that would definitely give the neighbors something to talk about.”
Julian kisses my cheek and fingers one of the curls in my ponytail. “An' I'm alwa's willin' ta do ma part in educatin' the neighbors aboot the hazards of marryin' a gorgeous, caramel-skinned goddess.”
Dad laughs. “I'm in complete agreement.”
Hearing the deeper meaning in his words, I smile, squeezing his hand. Dad had endured some painful things when he married Mama. In his wealthy family, marrying a black woman just wasn't done. But he had been willing to sacrifice everything for my mother's hand, and sacrifice he did. I also know he has no regrets and wouldn't have changed a thing.
“Dada,” Aidan says, holding his arms out to Julian, practically jumping into his.
“There's ma boy! Did ye hav' a good time with Grampa?”
“Of course,” Dad says, tickling Aidan’s stomach, drawing a delightful giggle from him.
“I think it’s nap time for you,” I say, brushing the hair from his brow.
“I’ll take him up,” Julian offers.
“Thanks.” I blow a kiss goodbye to the tired little boy, marveling at how much he favors his father. I'm sure he will be the major crush of a lot of teenage girls when he is older. Smiling at the thought, I grab a pitcher of lemonade from the fridge. “Would you like a glass, Dad?”
“Sure.”
“So, what do you have planned today?” I ask, taking a seat at the table. Noticing his slightly stressed look, I place my hand over his. “What
is it?”
“Well, you won’t believe this, but my mother called me today.”
I almost drop my glass of lemonade. “What? Are you serious?”
“Completely,” he says tonelessly. “She called me this morning and said she and Father would like to see me.”
“Wow!”
“Yeah, tell me about it.”
Dad hasn’t spoken with his parents in over twenty years. They never accepted Mama, or me when I was born, according to Dad. He had received a sizable trust from his parents when he turned twenty-one, so he has never been in need of money, which never really mattered to him, anyway because he has always liked to work. But he had been pretty hurt when they chose not to be a part of his life. He'd almost felt like it was a payoff.
Dad told me that for a short while he tried to stay in contact with them, but they wouldn’t even acknowledge him. So he finally stopped trying, convinced it was hopeless. He and his parents lived in the same city and they wouldn’t even see him. And all of this was because they had issues with interracial marriage. Still, through it all, Dad never stopped loving Mama, and she never stopped loving him. In the end, their love won.
“Did she say what they wanted?” I ask, bewildered.
“Not a word. And you know, she almost sounded desperate.”
Dad sips his lemonade. “I know we don’t have the greatest relationship in the world, but they are still my parents. I think I owe them this much. As for plans for the rest of the day, I guess it all depends on how things go there.”
I squeeze his hand. “Are you going to be okay?”
He turns his hand over, clasping mine and smiles. “Don’t worry. I’ll be fine.”
“I don’t think I can help it. I love you, Dad. I don’t want you to be hurt.”
He sighs. “And I won’t be.” He takes a final sip of lemonade before standing. “I’d better go.”
I quickly stand and hug him, holding onto him a moment. “Please call me or come by afterward. You know I’ll be worried until you do.”
He presses a kiss to my brow. “I promise I will.”
Chapter 2
Beauty is the mark God sets on virtue. Every natural action is graceful; every heroic act is also decent, and causes the place and the bystanders to shine.
Ralph Waldo Emerson
I put my book away, realizing that trying to read is futile, and pace the floor nervously, anxiously waiting to hear from Dad. I started reading the story earlier this week and have been trying to get it finished, but right now I can't concentrate, and after reading the same paragraph over and over again, I give up. I'm so worried about Dad. Yes, he is a grown man, but he is my dad and I can't help my feelings.
What in the world would they want to talk to him about? The same question keeps rolling through my mind. For over twenty years they've had nothing to say to him and now suddenly, out of the blue, they want to see him?
Dad has been through so much and I can’t bear the thought of him being hurt again. I have a Mama Bear streak when it comes to him, and I silently pray he is okay.
We have definitely got to get him married, Mama.
I head up to the playroom to check on Aidan. Finding him contently playing with his blocks, I decide to try and kill some time by working on a quilt I have been tying to give a friend at her baby shower. I have only been at it for a few minutes when the doorbell rings. Springing to my feet, I almost knock over a chair as I dash down the stairs to answer the door, praying it is Dad.
“Dad,” I sigh, pulling him into the house. “I’ve been so worried. Is everything all right? What’s going on? What did they want? Why–”
“Everything is fine,” he interrupts. “Everything is just fine.” He wraps an arm around my shoulders, guiding me to the sofa. “I have a lot to tell you.”
Mentally muzzling myself, I quietly listen as Dad fills me in, giving me all the details of his visit with his parents.
“The first few minutes were strained. I don't think either of us knew what to say. But they soon opened up and apologized to me for shutting me out. They told me how sorry they were for turning their back on me. And Giselle, I honestly didn't know what to say. To say I was in complete shock is putting it mildly.”
He pauses, wiping his eyes and I can read his every emotion in his expression. His watery smile draws my own tears to the surface.
“They want to try and make up for lost time–time they know they will never get back. And they want to meet their granddaughter and her family.”
I am floored. “I can’t believe it! They really want to see us?”
“They really do,” he assures me.
After all these years, I will get to meet my grandparents for the first time. I can't help feeling a little sad that Mama can't be here to experience this. She had longed to meet Dad's parents, to be a part of a family, something she hadn't had for years since her parents and older brother died the year I was born.
“Giselle,” Dad says, drawing me from my thoughts, “Are you going to be okay with this?”
“Of course I am,” I say, wanting to put his mind at ease. “I’m actually looking forward to it.” Inside I am still a little wary, but I know how important this is to him. I know things will work out.
Julian enters the living room a while later, having finished some paperwork from the office, and Dad fills him in on the details of his visit with his parents. Smiling, Julian says, “Our family is extendin'. We're bein' verra blessed.” And I agree completely.
A moment later I hear Aidan chattering behind the safety. “He must be bored with the blocks,” I say, getting up. When I reach the top of the stairs, he gives me that irresistible grin of his.
“You know you can get a woman to do just about anything with that grin, don't you?” I lift him from behind the gate and take him downstairs. “You are taking after your da, charming women the way you do.”
“An' there's nothin' wrong with tha', darlin'?” Julian boldly states. “Is there?” He takes his son and soon both men are on the floor, tickling and wrestling with him.
Enjoying the sight, my gaze shifts to my father. The joy radiating from him is contagious. He smiles at me, confirming his happiness.
It has been a good day.
A few days later, I am about to get out of the shower when the phone rings. Grabbing a towel, I run to answer it.
“Is this Giselle?”
“Yes, it is.”
“Hey, this is Mark Hayes.”
“Mark! How have you been, guy?”
“I’ve been great. How about you?”
“I’m good,” I answer, excited to hear from our friend. We haven't talked to Mark in about a year, but we think of him often and wish he didn't live so far away. He used to live just down the road from us, but a job change took him back home to Salt Lake City, Utah. I am sure his family has enjoyed having him home again.
“So what have you been up to?” I ask, sitting on the edge of the bed.
“Oh, not a whole lot. Just work and finishing up school. That has kept me pretty busy.”
“I’d imagine so. I hope you’re leaving some time on your social calendar.”
Mark laughs. “Actually, someone has been keeping my social calendar pretty filled.”
“I knew it! What’s her name and how did you meet her?”
“Her name is Sara and I met her in one of my classes. She’s a petite brunette with big blue eyes and a dazzling smile.”
“So, how long have you two been dating?”
“Oh, for about six months now, and we’ve been engaged for about three weeks.”
“Really?” I squeal. “That’s awesome, Mark. Congratulations!”
“Thanks.”
“So when is the big day?”
“Well, that’s why I’m calling. We’ve set it for June seventeenth.”
“Wow, six weeks! That’s soon, but hey, you know me. I think when you find the right person, the sooner the better.”
“So do we. I plan to cal
l your dad and ask him about this too, but it would really mean a lot to me if you guys could come out for the wedding. I know that doesn’t give you much time to–”
“Yes!” I cut him off. “We would be honored to come to your wedding.”
“Great! It's gonna be so awesome having you guys here.”
“I'm looking forward to it. And you go ahead and call Dad on his cell. He went in to work early this morning and I’m sure he will be excited to hear, too.”
“Okay, I will. My family’s home is large with plenty of room, so you will all have a place to stay. I told them I planned to invite you and they are looking forward to meeting you guys.”
“Thanks, Mark. That means a lot.”
“Truthfully, Giselle, your names were at the top of my list. You guys have been in my thoughts for quite some time now. But every time I have planned to call you, something has come up.”
“Hey, I can understand that. Don’t worry about it.”
“I’m glad everything is going okay with you. I guess I’ll call Jack and tell him my news.”
“You do that. I know he will be glad to hear from you.”
“I’ll call you back this weekend with more details.”
“Sounds good. Congratulations again, Mark. You take care of yourself.”
“You too, Giselle.”
I smile as I hang up the phone. I love hearing good news, and Mark's upcoming marriage is definitely cause to celebrate.
I finish getting dressed. Sitting at the vanity in the bathroom, I run a brush through my damp hair, blinking back the tears as a large clump of hair collects in the bristles. Cleaning the brush is becoming routine, one that is making me more down with each passing day. Before the hair loss started, I had always been pleased with my long, naturally-curly locks and had taken pride in the styling versatility, but each time I pull the brush away and find it full, my sadness increases tenfold. I only hope and pray that it doesn't get bad enough for Julian to notice because he loves my hair so much.