The hustle and bustle of deliverymen bringing flowers and food into the large house in Beacon Hill, Boston did not travel up to the bedrooms on the upper floors of the house. Although, all of the inhabitants of these rooms had been up for hours to help prepare for the reception that was to take place there later that evening - all but one. Michaela rolled over and reached out across the empty expanse of her bed.
This is the last time I'll sleep alone….from now on, He'll be there…
The thought produced a small giggle and sly smile spread across her face. She covered her face with her hands and abruptly rolled again and squealed into her pillow like an excited teenager. The sound of a knock and her bedroom door slowly opening forced her to regain her composure. Martha, technically the family housekeeper, but more another member of the family, quietly crossed over to the windows and opened the curtains to let in the bright September sun. She watched Michaela from the corner of her eye and tired to stop the smile that pulled at the corners of her lips. Truth is; Martha was more of a mother figure to Michaela than Michaela's own mother. It was Martha that would sooth the distressed Michaela when she had nightmares as a child. Martha would welcome her home from school with cookies, milk, and a friendly face and listen to her animated retellings of her day. And no mother could have been more proud the day Michaela graduated from high school, went away to college, received her acceptance to medical school and secured the prestigious job at Boston Memorial. It did Martha well to see Michaela so happy and to know that she would, in a matter of hours, be married to Senator David Lewis.
Martha pulled herself out of her nostalgic meanderings and went about her business. As Michaela watched in silence, Martha moved Michaela's wedding dress from her closet and hung it on the back of the bathroom door. Both women stared at the shimmering satin folds for a moment both caught up in their own musings. Martha broke the silence by clearing her throat and turning to face Michaela. Teasingly she put her hands on her hips and shaking her finger at the woman she had raised she admonished,
"Now don't you be falling back asleep, young lady. Your mother expects you downstairs and eating breakfast in 15 minutes."
"I couldn't possibly eat anything today, I'm far too excited!" Michaela protested. She sat up in bed, leaning against the lavish headboard. Her mother had insisted on redecorating the entire room when Michaela decided to move back in with her parent's before the wedding. Personally, Michaela preferred the room the way it was before, but when Elizabeth Quinn makes a decision there is little use in arguing. Michaela had learned from her father at a young age that it is best to pick your battles.
Martha walked about the room picking up a few odds and ends, not that the room needed it. Michaela's room was always spotless, unlike her four sisters. Martha was only trying to distract herself enough to prevent the tears of joy from flowing down her cheeks. She walked over to Michaela's vanity and straightened the bottles of perfume and makeup as she said with a gleam in her eye,
"I don't want to hear any protests. You know how your mother can be." She pulled a small cream colored envelope from her back pocket and set it on Michaela's vanity. Michaela perked up as she recognized the stationary and the determined scrawl on the front and quickly got out of bed to seize the envelope. Seeing her reaction Martha chuckled, "thought that would get your attention". With that Martha left Michaela to her letter and went to make sure the catering company had not tracked in mud dirtying her freshly mopped floors.
Michaela sat at her vanity holding the letter to her chest and tried to slow the pounding of her heart. She looked up and saw her reflection in the mirror. Her alligator green eyes sparkled and she had to cover her mouth with her hands in order to stop smiling. She shook her head vigorously making her long auburn hair swish back and forth, shimmering in the sunlight. Focusing on her reflections she said to herself, I have a reputation to maintain. I'm Michaela Quinn, M.D. Valedictorian of Johns Hopkins Medical School. Head Resident at Boston Memorial. I do not squeal over a man! A man I've known since childhood.
Determinedly she grasped the envelope and carefully pulled out the letter, eager to hear what her husband to be would have to say to her. Nothing, however, prepared her for what was hastily written on a single page -
Michaela,
I don't know how to say this, but I cannot marry you today.
I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me.
David
All at once Michaela's world started to spin. She grasped the vanity tightly in an attempt to make the room stop spinning. She couldn't understand… There must be some mistake! She reached for the envelope hoping there would be something there, another piece of paper, anything to explain why her world was rapidly coming down around her. She looked at herself in the mirror, trying to make sense of it all. She saw her wedding dress over her shoulder and she turned around and started to walk towards it, reaching out to touch it. She made it halfway across the room when her mother burst in without even knocking.
"Michaela Quinn! What on earth are you still doing in your pajamas? Didn't Martha tell you, you were expected…" Her voice trailed off as she saw the ashen color of Michaela's face and the bewildered expression in her eyes. Elizabeth rushed to gather her daughter in her arms just as Michaela slowly sank down to the floor, still clutching David's note. "Sweetheart, what is? What's happened?" she asked frantically as she gently stroked Michaela's hair, trying to sooth her as she did when Michaela was a young child.
Michaela turned her tear streaked face to her mother and silently offered her David's, now slightly crumpled note. Elizabeth released her hold on Michaela to read what had so deeply upset her daughter. She read it twice to make sure she read it correctly. Her first instinct was to hunt him down and give him a solid thrashing. She was halfway out the door when a sound stopped her. It was a sound she had not heard in nearly two decades. It was the gut wrenching sound of her baby girl in pain.
"Mom….don't go…" Michaela choked out. The anger Elizabeth felt subsided for the moment as she saw her fiery and stubborn daughter still sitting on the floor, looking at her with tear filled eyes. She rushed back to hold her youngest daughter and enfolded her in her arms. Silent sobs wracked Michaela's slender form as her mother rocked her gently and tenderly stroked her long auburn hair.
