Chapter Seven: Shame

"Wake up, Sleeping Beauty."

Heather opened her eyes and squinted at the person standing in front of her. As she slowly pulled herself into a sitting position, the swing she had been laying on squeaked and shook.

"Emily?" she questioned crankily, ashamed that Emily had caught her sleeping in the middle of the morning. "What are you doing here? This is your honeymoon! Shouldn't you be at home in bed with your husband?"

Emily shot Heather a Cheshire grin before she moved to the porch swing and sat down beside her. When she had left Daniel a while ago, he had been face down on the bed, passed out from an exhaustive afternoon of drinking, dancing and lovemaking.

"He's got incredible stamina but he's still a man. Great sex knocks him out."

Running a hand through her tousled brown hair, Heather shook her head at Emily before saying, "I can't believe anything knocks Daniel Hoffman out! The man is tireless. I remember all of those pitched battles against his regiment in Southern Kansas. I didn't think that I'd ever sleep again!"

Emily giggled. "He can be worn down. You just have to use the right techniques."

Raising a brow, Heather said, "Now you tell me. All I had to do was have great sex with him and we both could have gotten a little sleep."

"Nah. He may have thought you were pretty but you were a Ranger. He wanted to put you in front of a firing squad," Emily returned cheekily.

"Just my luck. Men dream of executing me!" Heather laughed.

"Well, we all have our talents," her blond friend snickered. "Besides not all men want to execute you. Are you going to tell me what's going on with Jake and Stanley?"

Heather looked at Emily, decided to feign bewilderment and echoed, "Jake and Stanley?"

Emily stood up and walked over to the front door of the Heather's house. With a smile, she motioned for Heather to get up and precede her into the house.

"I heard about Jake running across the park the other day just so he could walk you home and I saw you at the church and the reception with Stanley," Emily said with a perfectly arched brow. "I crawled out of my marriage bed, left my incredibly handsome, sexy husband and jogged across town for the story. You are not holding out on me, Heather Lisinski. I'll make us something to eat while you tell me all the gory details."

"McCrae," Heather said absently. Then, she groaned and ran her hands through her hair. Without hesitating, she stood up and led Emily into the kitchen. Sighing, she turned to confront her friend, "Have you learned to cook recently? Or are you planning on torturing the information out of me?"

Emily gave Heather a haughty look and answered with a sniff, "I'm going to make you eat those words."

Heather stared at the boastful blonde and waited for her to tell her the truth. Finally, Emily relented, made a face at her and admitted, "I've been taking lessons from Trish for almost a year now. Once Daniel asked me to marry him, I didn't want to scare him off with my cooking."

"Or kill him."

Emily shook her head as she opened Heather's cabinets and searched for something quick and easy to make. When she realized that there was nothing to fix, her brow wrinkled in concern. As she walked over to the pantry, she responded to Heather's statement. "You're never going to let me live that down, are you?"

Heather giggled, "You were the one who made the turkey that sent all of us to the emergency room that Thanksgiving. You're just lucky you got sick, too. That was the only reason we all forgave you!"

"There's something to be said about friends who throw up together…" Emily said as she looked in the empty pantry. Then, she crossed to the refrigerator and opened it. As she leaned down and glanced at its bare shelves, she frowned. She stood up and turned to face the petite brunette. "There's nothing to fix. Don't you ever eat?"

Heather refused to meet Emily's eyes. Instead, she gazed out the kitchen window. "I eat breakfast and lunch at school. I don't usually eat dinner. It's a pain to cook for one and I don't really like eating by myself."

"Well, just stop by the house. You can eat dinner with me and Daniel."

"That's all you two need—a third wheel."

With a sigh, Emily sat down at the kitchen table across from Heather and took her hand in hers. "I do need you. You're my best friend."

Heather smiled weakly and looked out the kitchen window. Hesitating, Emily bit her lip before she continued, "Do you know what I liked most about Michael McCrae? Other than the fact that he was crazy about you?"

At the unexpected change in the topic of their conversation, Heather looked back at Emily and met her gaze. She shook her head, wondering what Emily would say.

"Your happiness meant everything in the world to him," the beautiful blond stated gently. "Heather, he'd want you to be happy and you know that you're not. You're barely alive. I know you feel alone but you don't have to. You have Jake Green and Stanley Richmond hanging all over you…"

With a shaky laugh, Heather wiped a stray tear from her cheek. Then, she shook her head in denial as she tried to explain, "Stanley and I are just friends. We're kind of kindred spirits. He lost Mimi and I lost Michael…"

Emily nodded, "Okay, maybe not Stanley but what about Jake? You had feelings for him once and everyone in town knows he cares for you."

"I would never…" Heather started vehemently, trying to assure Emily that she would not get involved with Jake.

"Stop right there," Emily interrupted Heather sharply, letting her see how annoyed she was. "I am not the superficial girl that I was after the terrorist attacks and you are not going to use me as an excuse not to get involved with Jake Green. Is that clear?"

Heather's blue eyes widened in surprise at the passion in Emily's voice. Truthfully, she had used Emily and Jake's past relationship to justify avoiding Jake.

"You're right," Heather said softly. "I have been using you as an excuse not to deal with Jake. I won't do it anymore. I'm sorry, Em."

Angrily pushing her chair back, Emily stood up, looked down at her friend and said harshly, "Stop apologizing all of the time, damn it!"

Emily turned away from Heather and looked out the window for a moment. Then, she spun back around and continued in a soft but biting tone, "You know, Michael would be ashamed of you. The Heather he loved wasn't a coward. She faced her fears. She wouldn't have just rolled over and died like you're doing."

With those words, the tall blonde whirled around and left the kitchen. Heather listened as Emily's furious footsteps echoed down the hallway and she slammed out the door. Heather winced as the door banged shut. Then, she rested her face in her hands.

Emily was right. Heather knew that Michael would be ashamed of her.

She was ashamed of herself.