Beautiful in My Eyes

by ADAMS, J.

  I finally get up and head to the closet to pick out an outfit for the day. It would help if I knew what we were doing. I quickly put the question out of my mind and settle on a knee-length white floral skirt, a red crochet top with a matching cardigan, and gold gladiator sandals. This is an outfit for anything.

  Heading to the bathroom, I place my clothes on the bed and freeze. Hesitantly, I approach the head of the bed, shocked to see a lock of my hair lying on the pillow. I reach up and bury my fingers in the thick tresses, startled to feel a large bare spot on the back of my scalp.

  No, no. This can't be happening!

  Hurrying into the bathroom, I grab a hand mirror from the vanity and turn to examine the back of my head. There is no need to separate the hair. The two-inch wide bald spot is hard to miss. Sitting on the edge of the tub, I drop my face in my hands, tears slipping through my fingers.

  My hair has been continually thinning a little each day, but this . . . I never expected it to get this bad. I am really losing my hair. I'm losing the thick tresses Julian loves so much. I have had long hair all my life and have never had it cut, not even a trim. Never!

  Just a couple of days ago, I finally broke down and searched the internet, researching hair loss. Alopecia. Or in my case, severe Alopecia Areata. I found a list of things a doctor can prescribe, but they may not work.

  Taking a deep breath, I mentally review what I found.

  In the worst cases the condition progresses (gradually or quickly) until large areas of hair have been lost. These cases naturally bring distress to the people affected.

  When the condition first appears, it is not possible to predict whether it will be mild and recover soon or become severe. Apart from the uncommon type which is accompanied by eczema in children, no information is available about this. Everyone hopes that early treatment will stop the progress of the condition but if the alopecia is destined to be severe, this course may still be followed despite treatment.

  Every link I followed said the same thing.

  I'm losing my hair. What will Julian think? Reaching up, I comb my fingers through it, releasing a soft sob as more comes out in my hand. Wiping my face, I grab a couple of hair combs and some Bobbie pins and style my hair in a loose up-do, turning my head one way, and then another, making sure the bald spot is concealed. Having been pretty much satisfied with my looks for most of my life, right now my emotions are thrown out of whack and I suddenly feel like an ugly duckling.

  I turn the water on and pour in some fragrant bubble bath, compliments of the hotel. Rinsing away the rest of my tears, I undress and get in the tub. A few minutes later, I absently turn the water off and sit back, staring off into space, and try to calm my thoughts.

  Like it will make a difference.

  Chapter 11

  Beauty is not in the face; beauty is a light in the heart.

  Kahlil Gibran

  Dad surprises me with a day of shopping in Manhattan. He takes me up and down Fifth Avenue, making sure we enter almost every store. I am speechless with each purchase he makes for me. In one store, I try on evening gowns. Normally, they would make me feel elegant, but not today. When I tell Dad can't decide between three of them, he buys them all, making sure I pick out shoes to match. Our last stop is Tiffany’s, where he buys me a beautiful pair of diamond earrings.

  “Dad, you're spoiling me,” I say with false cheerfulness as we get back in the limo.

  “I know, and I love spoiling my daughter.”

  “Where exactly are you planning to take me?”

  “You'll see.”

  Later, I change into a dark green velvet gown, adding the diamond earrings. Normally, I would wear my hair down with something so dressy, but I can't. I should feel beautiful, but all I can think about is the large concealed bald spot. I give myself another look over, then go out to the main room to wait for Dad. A moment later, he comes out of his room and whistles.

  ”Oh, Giselle! If Julian could only see you right now! You are beautiful.”

  “Thank you, Dad. You're very handsome, yourself.”

  “Thank you.” He is wearing a classic black tuxedo with a dark green bow tie. I silently admire him, thinking what a lucky woman Cassie is.

  “Are you ready?” he asks taking my hand.

  “Yes.” I have been looking forward to this evening and I am going to do my best to leave my worries at the hotel.

  Dad takes me to dinner, and then to the Metropolitan Opera to see The Phantom of the Opera, and though I am enjoying the play, a small part of me feels as ugly and lost as the Phantom and I empathize with the character.

  “Are you all right?” Dad asks me on the way back to the hotel.

  I smile. “Yes, I’m just a little tired.” It isn’t a lie really. I am tired. Tired of trying not to think about the missing hair and the bare patch of skin, a patch that seems to be growing more with each passing minute. I can no longer ignore it, and I suddenly want to be home with Julian, wrapped in his arms. I need to know my hair loss doesn't matter, that his love for me is unconditional. I look at Dad, unable to hold the tears back any longer.

  “Giselle, honey, what’s wrong?”

  I swallow hard. “Dad, for the past little while, I have been slowly losing my hair, and this morning . . . I found a large clump of hair on my pillow. And it's getting worse.”

  “Oh, honey, I'm so sorry.” His eyes move to my hair. “There has to be something you can do to stop it.”

  “I researched it. It's a condition called Alopecia. There are things a doctor can prescribe, but mine is severe, and in most cases it progressively gets worse.” I pause, tears spilling down my cheeks. “Oh, Dad, I'm so afraid of what Julian will think. He has always loved my hair. I'm sure if he had known in Scotland that the woman he intended to marry would eventually lose all of her hair, he probably would have had second thoughts about the decision.” Shaking my head, I wipe my eyes. “I just don't know what to do.”

  “Giselle, Julian loves you more than life itself and this is not going to matter to him. He didn't fall in love with you because of your hair. He loves you, and that will never change.”

  “I know. At least I hope so. I'm just so worried, not only about what he will think, but everyone else, too.”

  “No one else matters. I promise you, honey, it will be okay.”

  “I'm sorry, Dad, and I don't mean to sound like a child, but I just want to go home. I really need Julian right now.”

  “I understand, and don't be sorry. We've had a wonderful time together.”

  When we reach the hotel, Dad calls the airport and changes our return flight to tomorrow morning. When he is done, he sits next to me and takes my hand.

  “Dad.” My voice breaks. “Would you hold me?”

  “You don't even have to ask.” I close my eyes, finding comfort in my father's embrace. After a while, I slowly begin to relax and soon feel myself drifting off.

  “I guess I should go to bed now. I'm going to try and get in to see a doctor tomorrow. Slim chance getting an appointment so soon, I know. But I have to do something.”

  “I hope you can. Goodnight, honey.” He kisses my forehead.

  “Goodnight, Dad. And thank you.”

  When I awaken the next morning, the bald spot has grown and another has joined it, and I cry as I collect the hair from my pillow. It's happening so fast, God. How can it be happening so fast?

  I call a dermatologist, elated that I can get in. I can't get back fast enough.

  I spend the entire flight home, praying Julian will understand and be there for me. If nothing works to stop my hair from falling out, I hope he can live with it.

  Because I don't know if I can. And I don't know what I will do if he can't.

  Chapter 12

  The beauty seen, is partly in him who sees it.

  Christian Nevell Bovee

  I am grateful Julian isn’t home when I arrive because it gives me more time to think about my situation. Dad had taken me straight from the airp
ort to my appointment. The doctor called in a couple of prescriptions for me and I picked them up right after the appointment. He told me my case was so severe, the creams may not work, but I'm trying to be positive. I can't allow myself to do anything less.

  When I get back, I unpack and put my things away, as well as the things I bought for Julian and Aidan while I waited for him. His briefcase is gone so he must be at the bookstore. I take a moment to admire the beautiful gowns before hanging them up and smile as I think of Dad and how happy he was to buy them for me. Cassie will definitely be lavished and pampered by her new husband.

  I am glad I had the chance to spend that time with Dad, and I wish we hadn’t had to cut our trip so short. Before dropping me off, he had stood for a moment holding me and assuring me things will be all right.

  Having finished putting everything away, I go down to the kitchen to make myself a cup of chamomile tea, hoping it will help me relax. But anxiousness continues to press at my insides. Here I am, a twenty-three-year-old woman, having to contemplate losing my hair. Heaving a sorrowful sigh, I press my head in my hands and will the tears to stay away. I don’t want Julian to see me with red eyes because it would make things worse. How, I don’t know.

  I jump at the sound of the front door opening. Julian is whistling as he walks down the hallway. The familiar sound brings those dreaded tears to my eyes. I stand and try to smile as he enters the kitchen.

  “Giselle! Hey! Wha' are ye . . .”

  The moment the first tear slips down my cheek, a torrent follows and in a flash, I am in his arms, my face pressed against his warm chest.

  “Wha' is it, darlin'?”

  I am unable to answer as heart-wrenching sobs tear through me.

  “Shhh, tis all right, honey.”

  “Keep holding me, Julian. Please.”

  Julian scoops me up in his arms and carries me to the living room. He sits down on the sofa and cradles me on his lap. He holds me in silence, but I can feel his heart pounding madly. I finally draw back a little and look into his blue eyes.

  “Talk ta me, darlin'. Ye hav' got me scared.”

  “I'm sorry.”

  He wipes my tears with gentle hands as his own eyes fill. “Tell me, honey.”

  How? There are no words I can say that will make this any easier. All I can do is show him. I slowly pull the pins from my hair, and as I do, another small lock of hair falls out.

  Julian's eyes widen. “Oh, Giselle! Oh, honey!”

  “It started months ago, but the past couple of days . . . Oh, Julian, I'm so sorry.” I try to look away, but he catches my chin, forcing me to meet his tear-filled gaze.

  “Why are ye sorry? Ye hav' nothin' ta apologize for.”

  “But I know how much you love . . .”

  “I love ye,” he says, cutting off my words. “I love ye an' everythin' aboot ye. Do ye thin' tha' will change because o this?” He lightly caresses the bare spot that is now visible on the front of my scalp. “Tis no yer hair tha' makes ye beautiful, darlin'. I fell in love with ye for who ye are. I love ye with every fiber o ma bein', and ma love only grows with each day tha' passes.”

  “But . . . how can you say that? I'm losing it all. By the end of the week, at this rate, it will all be gone. I saw a doctor and he gave me some things to try, but . . . I don't think they will work. How will you be able to look at me? I can barely look at my reflection now.” I pause, my lips trembling. “Julian, I don't want you to be ashamed or embarrassed to be seen with me. I can buy a wig and . . . He presses a finger to my lips.

  “Listen ta me, darlin'. Yer hair doesnae make you beautiful. Aye, I hav' alwa's loved it, but losing it doesnae diminish yer beauty, no even a wee bit. Tis ye tha' I love.”

  I lower my eyes and he again catches my chin in his hand. I am startled by the tears now trailing down his face. “Ah, angel, this is wha' ha' been botherin' ye. Ye hav' held it in for all this time. Why did ye no tell me?”

  “I was afraid,” I whisper.

  “Ah, Giselle, my heart is achin' for ye, for feelin' like ye ha' ta handle this alone. I'm so sorry, love.”

  “No, I'm sorry. You shouldn't have to deal with this.”

  Julian shakes his head, pulling me close, and draws my head down to his chest. My ear picks up the strong beat of his heart.

  “Do ye hear tha', love?” His voice is soft. “Hear how ma heart beats for ye, Giselle. Only for ye. Yer ma heart, ma verra soul. Never doubt ma love for ye, angel. Trust in it. In us. In me.” He tilts my face up and lowers his lips to mine. “Never doubt,” he whispers before deepening his kiss.

  Within seconds, I am on fire. His mouth passionately coaxes and devours mine with heated affection, sending molten lava through my entire body. His tongue dances over mine and I completely melt. Then his mouth is everywhere, branding me, his strong arms and body claiming me. As my tears flow, his love flows into me, soothing the hurt and taking it away. He is my knight, my protection from harm, the holder of my honor, and defender of my heart. In his arms, nothing can touch me. He is all that exists.

  “Where is Aidan?” I whisper against his ear, kissing every inch of it.

  “With yer grandmother,” he breathes, slipping my shirt off my shoulder and covering the area with kisses. “Now, I'm goin' ta take ye upstairs, ma bonnie wife, an' make extremely passionate love ta ye. Is that all right?”

  “Aye . . .”

  A long while later, Julian gazes down at me, his eyes caressing my face, and the love in them is so clear, it's almost blinding. He kisses me, then lightly rests his forehead against mine.

  “Ye are the verra air I breathe, mo nighean donn. I cannae imagine no havin' ye in ma life. Ye own ma heart. I am completely yers, as ye are mine. Tha' willnae change, no matter wha'.”

  Caressing his smooth back, I smile, taking heart in his words, because I know they aren't just words. “I love you.”

  “An' I love ye.” He caresses my face with the back of his hand, his breath fanning my lips as he kisses me, his warm mouth lightly toying with mine. “Someone once said, 'Ye donnae love a woman because she is beautiful, but she is beautiful because ye love her.' An' they were right. Ye will alwa's be beautiful ta me, Giselle–the most bonnie lass ta ever grace this whole earth.”

  “Thank you, Julian, for loving me.”

  “No need ta thank me, darlin'. I wa' born ta love ye.”

  No other words are spoken because none are needed. And as the passion between us is renewed, it speaks more that can ever be said.

  “Do you ever miss it?” I ask later in the night. “Living in Scotland, I mean. Do you ever miss it?”

  “Aye,” he sighs. “Sometimes. But I am happy here because I am with ye.”

  I nod. “I miss going to the pub and hearing you sing. I know you sing to me still, but I do miss it sometimes.”

  “We made a lot o memories there, tha's for sure.”

  I raise up, resting my chin on his chest, finding his eyes in the dim light of the moon. “What would you think about moving back for a while?” I watch his eyes widen.

  “But this is yer home. Ye would really leave?”

  I've been giving this some thought for some time now and my answer comes easy. “Dad has a new life now, so nothing is holding me back. I want Aidan, as well as our future children to know their heritage on both sides. It would be fun to go back for a while. We still have the house there. Besides, anywhere we are together is home.”

  He smiles, his expression one of contemplation. “Aye. T'would be nice ta live in the auld house again, but this time with ye an' Aidan.” He caresses my face. “Are ye sure, love?”

  “I am.”

  “All right, then. Home to Scotland it is.”

  Chapter 13

  When you reach the heart of life you shall find beauty in all things, even in the eyes that are blind to beauty.

  Kahlil Gibran

  “How are you holding up?” Cassie asks me.

  “I'm okay, just trying to stay upbeat and think po
sitive.”

  “Have either of the prescriptions helped any?”

  “Well, I'm still losing hair, but there haven't been any large amounts lost during the past week. I don't know if it's because of the creams or if my follicles are just taking a brief pause.”

  “Well, hang in there. Giselle, the reason I'm calling is to ask if you would be my maid of honor.”

  “Really? I would love to,” I answer, touched and honored that my future stepmother is asking me to stand with her.

  “Thank you. Having you beside me when I marry your father means a lot.”

  “It means a lot to me, too,” I say, wiping a tear away.

  “And since Julian will be Jack's best man, everything will be perfect.”

  “It will, and he is honored as well. We're so happy for you guys,” I tell her, grateful to have her in my life, and for the happiness she has brought to Dad.

  We talk for a few minutes more and say goodbye.

  I hang up the phone and stare out at the full moon through the kitchen window, allowing my thoughts to drift to and fro. I know it is only a matter of time before I lose the rest of my hair. I have accepted this fact, but a small hope is always there. I keep thinking I should go ahead and buy a couple of wigs, but it seems like there is always a reason it put off. And I will definitely need one now that I am to be Cassie's maid of honor. Wearing a hat or scarf is completely out of the question.

  Maybe tomorrow I will go and browse.

  As soon as I awaken I can feel that something is different. Not wanting to wake Julian, I sit up, my hands immediately going to my head, and I am shocked to feel more bare sections on my scalp. Hesitantly, I go into the bathroom and close the door, locking it before turning on the light. I don't want to move to the mirror, afraid of what I will see, but I know I must, so I slowly approach the vanity with my eyes closed. Then I look at my reflection and a river of tears splash down my face. My scalp looks like patchwork. I have lost so much hair during the night, no amount of camouflage will help.