Beautiful in My Eyes
Page 6
Covering my mouth, I drop to the bench and cry.
“Giselle,” Julian calls softly, “Swee'heart, would ye open the door?”
“I can’t,” I answer with a muffled cry.
“Please, darlin', tis okay. I ken ye lost more, but it doesnae matter ta me. Ye are still the most bonnie lass I hav' ever seen. An' ye will alwa's be beautiful ta me no matter wha'. I know I keep repeatin' masel', but ye hav' ta believe me.”
Hearing the emotion in his voice, I take another look at my reflection. There are small patches of dark hair left here and there. Heaving a resigned sigh, I wipe my face.
You will get through this. And this too shall pass. I get up and walk to the door.
“Julian?”
“Aye, honey.
“Would you do something for me?”
“Anythin', darlin'.”
Taking a deep breath, I slowly open the door, a few more tears trailing down my cheeks. “Would you give me a haircut?” I slowly smile.
Julian pulls me into his arms, both laughing and crying, raining kisses all over my face. “Aye. I would be glad ta giv' ye a haircut.”
Five minutes later, he stands behind me with his hands on my shoulders as I examine my reflection. “So wha' do ye thin'?”
I hesitate, turning my head from left to right, and then smile. “I thin' ye took a bit too much o the top.”
Laughing, he kneels beside me and holds me close. “Och, how I love ye, mo nighean donn.”
“And I love you. Thank you, Julian.”
“For wha'?”
“For being so good to me.”
“Tis a privilege ta be able ta love ye, angel.” He stands, his eyes meeting mine in the mirror, the burning passion in his gaze heating me to the core. “Now, forgiv' me, darlin', but I'm aboot ta take ye back ta bed for a wee bit an' hav' ma way with ye. All right?”
I stand and turn to him, wrapping my arms around his neck, and bury my fingers in his hair. “Aye. And you are definitely forgiven.”
Chapter 14
A thing of beauty is a joy forever.
John Keats
I am beautiful. My hair does not make me. I am an amazing person with so much going for me. My husband loves and adores me and thinks I'm bonnie. That is all that matters.
Sitting at a vanity in the wig shop, I mentally repeat these affirmations and try on several wigs in various styles, but I am not happy with any of them. Of course, Julian tells me I look beautiful in each one and I tell him he's no help. He agrees and kisses my cheek. The sales woman brings in a few more styles for me to try. One of the wigs is very similar to my natural hair style. The silky black ringlets fall just past my shoulders and feels soft and luxurious. Julian whistles and my decision is made. I buy three of the style–two black and one auburn. And as we leave the shop, I feel more beautiful than I have in a long time.
Julian decides to take me shopping so we head to the mall. Opening my car door, he takes my hand as I get out, keeping it in his as we move from store to store. We pick out a wedding gift for Dad and Cassie. Then I peruse the lingerie section in a department store and pick out Cassie's shower gift.
“I cannae wait ta see ye in tha',” Julian says, growling in my ear.
“Oh, I'll bet, but it’s not for me,” I say, blushing. “It’s for Cassie.”
He heaves a disappointed sigh. “If ye wan', I can hold yer place in line while ye go an' get another one for yersel'.” He flashes a sexy mischievous grin.
“You mean for you,” I tease and he nods.
“Oh, aye.” He marches over and picks out one for me, placing it on the counter with the other. I just shake my head and smile. The cashier smiles as well and rings up our purchases. It isn't hard to guess what she's thinking.
“I need to stop in one more place,” I say as we exit the store.
“Now, let me guess where yer goin' next.” Julian rubs his chin like he is deep in thought. “Ah! The bookstore.”
“How did you know?” I tease.
“Just luck.”
“Makes me wonder if you have that leprechaun stowed away somewhere.”
“Och, he's long gon' now. I gav' him a couple o bottles of whiskey from the pub an' I havnae seen him since.”
Tsk, tsk, tsk. Nothing worse than a drunken leprechaun.”
He grins. “Tell me aboot it.”
Our bookstore is at the opposite end of the mall. The outside entrance is convenient, especially for parents bringing their children in for story time.
“Weel, why don' ye let me take the bags oot ta the car, an' while yer browsin' the books, I'll check oot another store for a bit.”
“Sounds good. Give me about half an hour?”
“Sure. I'll plant masel' on the bench oot here by the kiosk.” He kisses me and we hurry our separate ways.
“Good to see you, Giselle,” Shawn, our young employee says as he finishes ringing up my books and puts them in a bag.
“It's good to see you, too. And thanks.”
“You're welcome. And tell Julian to be prepared for the rush of mothers coming in tomorrow for his repeat performance at story time. They've all been going on about the gorgeous kilt-wearing Scotsman.”
I laugh. “I'll be sure to tell him.”
When I finally exit the store and meet Julian, I gasp, covering my mouth.
“Julian! What did you do?”
“Do ye like ma haircut, darlin'?” He stands and runs his fingers through the short tousled waves.
“I can't believe . . . but why?”
He smiles and places the tied ponytail in my hand. My bag slips from my fingers unheeded, and tears quickly blur my vision as he takes me in his arms.
“I didnae mean ta make ye cry, mon nighean donn.”
I say nothing, just simply bury my face in his chest. I know why he did it, and the gesture touches me more than anything he has ever done. How I love this man! And how blessed I am that he loves me so much!
“Thank you,” I finally whisper.
Drawing back a little, he takes my face in his hands, whispering against my lips, “I love ye more than anythin', ma bonnie, bonnie lassie,” before covering my mouth and drinking deeply. Clinging to one another, we are completely in a world of our own. A world where love, passion and complete adoration consumes our hearts and our souls. A world nothing can penetrate, and our devotion to one another is all that matters.
Dad whistles as we enter the house. “You're beautiful as usual.”
“Tell me aboot it,” Julian says, placing the bags on the sofa.
“And Julian, you look like a new man.”
Julian smiles, lifting my hand to his lips. “No new, just different. I'm the same man, the one who desperately loves yer daughter.”
I wrap my arms around his waist, gazing up at him with eyes full of love and adoration, secure in the knowledge that no matter what trials may come, no matter how hard emotional storms may rage, I will be able to face them all and overcome, with Julian, my husband and Scottish knight, at my side.
Epilogue
Beauty is how you feel inside, and it reflects in your eyes. It is not something physical.
Sophia Loren
The wedding is held in the back yard of our home. I wipe a tear away as Dad and Cassie stand before the reverend and repeat their vows, pledging to love and honor one another. Cassie is a beautiful bride in her silky white princess gown. And Dad's black tux looks like it was made just for him. He is indeed a handsome groom. In attendance are my grandparents and some of Dad's friends and employees.
Julian and I share meaningful glances throughout the ceremony, remembering our wedding ceremonies, both in the states and in Scotland. No words are needed as our eyes clearly speak our love to one another.
Two hours later, after hugs, kisses, and more tears are shed, Julian and I stand at the curb and wave as we watch Dad and Cassie drive away, heading toward their new life.
Six weeks later
Castle Urquhart
Loc
h Ness, Scotland
Standing in the tower of the castle ruins, with Julian's arms around my waist, we gaze through the window at Loch Ness. Even shrouded in the thick fog, this place feels magical. Battles were fought over Castle Urquhart, but in the end, Scotland regained her treasure, and I am awed to again be standing amidst such history.
“The first time I brought ye here, I thought ta masel', 'I wan' ta marry this woman right here, right now.' But I couldnae deprive ye o a weddin'.”
I smile, turning in his arms. “And I appreciate your thoughtfulness. Though, if truth be told, I would have married you with only the reverend and nature as witnesses. I wanted you as desperately as you wanted me.” I softly touch my lips to his. “I still do.”
“Aye.” His voice is husky. “My wan' for ye willnae ever stop. When I am in ma grave, I will still burn for ye.” He kisses me, whispering against my lips. “Ye hav' no idea o the power ye hav' over me.”
A delightful shiver causes goosebumps to cover my arms as his hands caress my waist and back. “I have some idea, because I feel the same. From the moment you first looked into my eyes when you sang, I have felt a connection to you that only grows stronger and deeper with each day that passes. There are times that I still wonder how you can be mine, and what I did to deserve you.”
“Ah, darlin', ye take ma own thoughts an' give voice ta them.” He holds me close, caressing my brow with his lips. “Ye donnae ken, an' I've never said, but almost every night since we married, I awaken for a wee moment an' just look at ye. I look at yer beloved body an' marvel tha' ye belong ta me, tha' we are one flesh. I gaze at yer face, committin' ta memory every plane, every contour, thankin' God for the marvels o the human senses. An' then I touch ye, an' I am infused with renewed joy.”
Julian has always been a romantic, but his words take me by complete surprise. His devotion is so beautiful, I can't come up with anything original that would be worthy of him. I turn back around and face the sea, my arms wrapped over his. One of my favorite poetic pieces by Pierre Choderlos De Laclos comes to mind.
“Loved and respected by a husband I love and respect, my duties and my pleasures are combined. I am happy and I ought to be. If there exist more acute pleasures I do not want to know them. Is there a sweeter pleasure than to be at peace with oneself? . . . What you call happiness is but a turmoil of the senses, a tempest of passions which it is frightening to witness even from the safety of the shore . . .”
“Amen, love.”
We say nothing more for a long while, we simply soak in the view. Soon the mist over Loch Ness slowly lifts, and for a moment I think I see . . .
No, it couldn't be . . . “Julian!” I say, never taking my eyes away from the area of water I've been staring at. “Was that . . . do you think . . . ?”
“In these enchantin' waters, anythin's possible.” He takes my hand. “Let's go an' hav' a closer look.”
Hand in hand, we leave the castle, me and my knight–the owner and protector of my heart–wielding a warrior's unconditional love as his sword, and unending devotion as his shield.
William Wallace would indeed be proud.
Afterword
Though this story is fiction, Alopecia is very real and emotionally painful. I have been dealing with this dreaded condition for years and getting progressively worse.
But you know what? It is okay. I am in a good place with the reality of it. Of course, I still have days every now and then when I feel less attractive, but I quickly pull myself out of the mire, less it swallows me completely.
I am fortunate enough to have a husband who tells me I am beautiful every day, and I am grateful to him for loving me unconditionally. I know when the day finally comes that my hair is completely gone and I have to wear wigs full time, his love for me won't change, and because of that, I will continue to be okay. My wig collection will just expand and I will be one of the most stylish women around.
That thought makes me smile.
About Alopecia
Alopecia areata is a common autoimmune skin disease resulting in the loss of hair on the scalp and elsewhere on the body. It usually starts with one or more small, round, smooth patches on the scalp and can progress to total scalp hair loss (alopecia totalis) or complete body hair loss (alopecia universalis). Alopecia areata affects approximately two percent of the population overall, including more than 5 million people in the United States alone. This common skin disease is highly unpredictable and cyclical. Hair can grow back in or fall out again at any time, and the disease course is different for each person.
National Alopecia Areata Foundation
NAAF was established in 1981 with one clear goal; to offer support to individuals affected by alopecia areata. Though the mission has expanded over the past two decades, the importance of providing a substantial support program to people of all ages and interests has not diminished.
To learn more about Alopecia and find a support group, visit the NAAF website at www.naaf.org.
About the Author
J. (Jewel) Adams stays crazy busy with her family and writing. She has written several books in
different genres, mainly romance, and is also a motivational speaker to both youth and adult audiences.
She is on the last leg of home schooling her two youngest, and between that and conjuring up new
ideas for her books, her brain cells are on overload most of the time. She and her husband Sean are the parents of eight children and grandparents to five and counting.
In her spare time (when she has any) she likes to curl up with a good book and a healthy stash of orange Tic Tacs. She and her family reside in Utah.
Jewel loves hearing from her fans, so if you would like to contact her to tell her how much you love her
books or give her sympathy for the fried brain cells, contact her at jewela40@gmail.com
To check out Jewel's other books, visit her website at JewelAdams.com
And stop by her blog: jewelsbestgems.blogspot.com
Other books by J. Adams/Jewel Adams
Still His Woman
The Legacy
The Wishing Hour
Tears of Heaven
Place In This World
The Journey
Against the Odds
Mercedes' Mountain
Guardian of My Heart
Sweet 21 Birthday Ball
Ebooks
The Wishing Hour
The Legacy
Tears of Heaven
Place In This World: The Sequel to The Journey
The Journey
Mercedes' Mountain
That Kind of Love
The Shelter of His Arms
What the Heart Sees
The Sound of Love
Stories of the Heart
Against the Odds
Guardian of My Heart
Elise's Heart
For Love of Angel
Sweet 21 Birthday Ball
Say What You Need to Say
Children's Book
Forbidden Portals: The Quicksilver Project