AN: The chapter you've all been waiting for. I hope you enjoy it. Let me know!

Chapter 8

Henry pulled into the parking spot in front of Cavalier Subs and cut the engine. He wasn't sure what to expect. It had taken him a good hour to place who Joan even was, as she gave him only her first name, and then if meeting her for lunch was a good idea. But, she'd called him out of the blue and said she had a business proposition for him, and his current situation didn't give him the opportunity to be choosy.

Henry rarely ate out because his budget didn't usually allow for such extravagences, so he hoped the $4 in his pocket would be enough to cover a sandwich. Henry said a quick prayer that this would be worth his time and he wouldn't regret spending his last $4 on a ham sandwich that wouldn't last the day rather than getting a couple loaves of bread and a jar of peanut butter, which would last most of a week.

He stepped out of his beat up 1970 Ford pickup, straightened his shirt and walked through the door. Joan was sitting just inside, in a booth that he guessed was for those waiting for take out orders. She jumped up at the sight of him and offered a warm smile. Turning her attention to the waitress, she said, "I'm ready to be seated now." The young woman nodded, grabbed two menus and gestured for them to follow.

Joan slid into one side of the booth and Henry the opposite. The waitress placed the menu in front of Joan, then Henry and offered to take their drink orders. "Water will be fine, thank you."

The waitress looked at Joan. "I'll have a sweet tea," she responded and then looked at Henry. "Lunch is on me. If you want something else, by all means, go for it."

Henry shook his head, repeating, "Water is fine. Thank you." He couldn't deny that a soda sounded good, but he had a five mile run with the ROTC group that evening and, more importantly, his mother had always stressed that he shouldn't take advantage of anyone's generosity.

Joan picked up the menu and made small talk about what was good. Henry was overwhelmed and surprised at the number of options, all which looked pretty appetizing. When the waitress returned, Joan ordered a Philly Cheesesteak with onion rings and Henry said, "I'll have the same, but may I have fries instead?" The waitress nodded and retreated into the kitchen. Henry turned his attention back to Joan.

"So, I'm sure you're curious as to why I invited you here today," Joan started. Henry just smiled and listened. "Well you see, I have a situation that needs some attention and if I'm not mistaken, you could use a job."

"Yes, ma'am. I am looking for employment. So far, the jobs I've come across haven't worked with my class or study schedule. I wish I could say that I don't need to spend a great deal of time studying, but that isn't the case. It is very important to me that I keep my grades up so I can continue to receive the scholarships that I do get."

"Of course, of course," Joan murmured. "Henry, why don't you tell me about yourself."

Henry looked at her quizzically. "Sure, I'm from the Pittsburgh area. My father is a steel worker, my mother is a part-time nurse and a full-time homemaker. I'm the second of four kids. I came to UVA on an ROTC scholarship. When I arrived on campus I was undecided, but I chose theology as a major, and I'm trying to get into the aviation program when I join the Marines after college."

Joan nodded, taking all of that information in. "And a good Catholic boy, it seems."

Henry smiled and laughed softly. "I'm not special, just an average guy. Mass attendance and weekly Adoration is a requirement of my college attendance per my mother."

"But you follow through. Many would just tell their concerned mother that they were doing it, and not." Joan placed her elbows on the edge of the table and leaned in. "You are honest, and you haven't taken advantage of a situation that you easily could have."

"No ma'am. I try to be honest. My mother was instrumental in helping to persuade my father to let me come to UVA, and I wouldn't want to give her any reason to regret doing so." Henry shifted uncomfortably under Joan's gaze. "So, you said you may have a job?" he asked, trying to steer the conversation away from him.

Joan leaned back and sighed. "I do have a very unusual situation and I'm struggling with how to make it doable for both my niece and myself."

Just then, the waitress appeared at the table with two plates of food. She set each plate on the table and pulled a ketchup bottle from her apron pocket and placed it between Joan and Henry. "Just holler if you need anything else," she said, before stepping away.

Joan daintily cut the sandwich in half and picked up the smaller portion, taking a bite. She chewed slowly and swallowed. She motioned to Henry. "Go ahead." Henry shook himself out of his stupor. He didn't realize he'd been so focused on what was to come next that he hadn't moved to take a bite.

He did so and Joan continued. "My niece is… going to be a freshman. She will start fall classes next week and I'm very concerned about her." Henry watched Joan carefully, hoping to glean some meaning from her statement using her body language, but he came up empty.

"I want to make sure she gets to class," Joan finally said after a moment struggling with how to phrase her request.

Henry nodded his understanding. "Ah, you're afraid she will ditch classes?" Joan immediately shook her head.

"Oh no, nothing like that. No, she will go to her classes. I just want to make sure she doesn't have any trouble getting there. I'm looking for someone to watch out for her and make sure she makes it from point A to point B."

Henry wrinkled his nose. "You want me to follow your niece, not because you think she won't go, but because you think she'll have trouble walking from her dorm to the academic buildings?"

"Yes, and you can't let her know you're following her. She would be livid if she found out." Joan nodded, satisfied with her explanation. "Yep, that's the crux of it."

"I don't know if I feel comfortable doing that. I'm not some kind of stalker," Henry sat back and crossed his arms over his chest.

"It wouldn't be like that at all. She's just quiet, very introverted, and she doesn't interact with a lot of people. I'm worried that she won't have a lot of friends, and I want someone looking out for her, but she's fiercely independent and I know that she would balk if I suggested it. I would much prefer she live at home, but she won't have any part of that. She's made that abundantly clear. But, I won't have a moment's peace unless I know that there is some level of protection for her."

"So I'm just supposed to follow her around all day and not let her know?" The worry line in Henry's forehead ran deep. "I couldn't devote my whole day to this."

"Of course not," Joan assured him. "Her classes are at 8, 10 and 11 on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays and 8 and 9:30 on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Ideally you would see her leave her dorm and make sure she gets to her first class. You can study while she's in class, then follow her in between and make sure that she gets to the 10 am class and then the 11 am class. You can leave her when she gets to the dining hall for lunch. It's just across the street from her dorm, so I am not as worried about that transition. You would do the same on Tuesdays and Thursdays, but after class, I'm guessing she'll go back to her room at 11:00."

"And I can study all of the time except when she's walking from one class to another?" Joan nodded. "Well, it doesn't interfere with my classes, so that would make it possible." Joan nodded again, a small smile forming at the corners of her mouth in hopefulness. "What kind of pay are you thinking?" Henry finally asked.

As much as Henry disliked the idea of following someone, there was no way that he'd be able to come up with another job that would allow him as much study time. Even if he could make a few bucks a day with this, he could get most of his studying done and then he could get a night job. Doing this may pay for groceries for the week. That would be helpful.

Joan watched the young man. She could see that he wasn't totally on board, but she planned to remedy that quickly. "How much are you going to be short on your bill for school?"

Henry's head snapped up to look at her. "I never told you what my situation was."

"You didn't, but I've been coming in after you in Adoration for a year now. I could tell that you were down the other day and then I read your prayer request. You need money to make up for the scholarship you lost."

"I didn't lose the scholarship. They just didn't have enough money to fully fund it. I have all A's," Henry said, feeling more than a little defensive. He didn't want anyone to think that he'd done something to cause him to lose that money.

Joan waved him off. "That's semantics to me. How much do you need?"

"One thousand," Henry said.

Joan's lips twitched. "Is that for the year or for the semester?"

"For the year." Henry's eyes fell to his lap. "It's a lot of money, I know. But I'll figure something out."

Joan pushed her plate forward and rested her elbows on the table, folding her arms. "I'll pay your bill if you agree to do the job every day this semester." Henry looked up at her, his eyes wide and she knew she had him. "The whole $1000 for just this semester, but you have to keep doing it, even if she finds out, and I'm telling you, it will be a challenge if she finds out."

"And next semester?" Henry asked.

"We'll see how she gets along. She's been known to prove me wrong more than once." Joan smiled, "She takes great pleasure in making me eat my words."

The waitress passed by and Joan flagged her down. "Is Harold working today?" The waitress nodded. "Ask him to put together a sandwich for Will and one for Lizzie. He'll know how to make them. Separate bags, please. I'll drop Lizzie's off at the dorm."

"Wait! Will and Lizzie belong to you?" Henry asked, flabbergasted.

"Yes, why?" Joan looked equally shocked at Henry's question.

"You aren't the only one who reads the prayer intentions every week. I've prayed for them for a lot of years."

Joan grew distant and then she said, "It's probably everyone's prayers that have kept them afloat, although their mostly agnostic selves would disagree." Henry was about to ask what she meant when the waitress passed by and said that the extra sandwiches would be at the register. Joan slid out of the booth, moving to stand.

"On Sunday, I'll meet you after Mass. I'll give you a picture of Lizzie and her class schedule. Give it a couple weeks to make sure it will be doable, and when you agree, then I will pay the difference in your bill. You seem like an upstanding young man. I'm going to trust that if I pay your bill, that you will hold up your end of the bargain."

Henry nodded. "I will try it. I'm not sure how I feel about following your niece. It sort of feels like spying. But I will let you know. I wouldn't let you pay my bill and not complete my task."

Joan nodded and then she made her way to the front of the restaurant, letting Henry follow.

— ∞ —

Henry sat on the bench across the street from Lizzie's dorm. He held a book in his lap, a graduation picture of Lizzie tucked between the pages. She had an 8 o'clock class and he'd arrived at 7:30, both because he wanted to be early and because Joan said she would likely leave early to avoid most of the crowds. It was 7:45 and Henry began to wonder if he'd actually missed her when the door to the dorm opened and she stepped out, letting the heavy door fall shut behind her. She slowly moved to the edge of the porch and he watched as she took a deep breath, squared her shoulders and took the step down and started moving down the sidewalk. Henry didn't move until she'd crossed the street and was half a block away. Only then did he stand up, slip his arms through the backpack straps and hoist it onto his back. He headed out, keeping a good distance.

He noticed that she seemed to wait a long time to cross the street and she walked slower than most people but other than that, he was curious as to why she needed someone to watch out for her. By outward appearances, she just seemed unsure and maybe a little shy. Henry thought back to how nervous he had been in his first few weeks on campus, and he likely felt the same.

She made her way up the steps of the science building and with more people around, Henry closed the distance a bit. He watched her walk into the lecture hall and then he took a seat in a window ledge on the opposite side of the space.

Henry pulled a book out and started looking through one of his texts in preparation for the beginning of his own class later that afternoon. Fifty minutes later, students piled out of the lecture hall and Henry tried to watch everyone leave without being obvious. He thought he may have missed her in the crowd, but then she emerged in the doorway, the last to exit.

Standing in the doorway she repeated her earlier actions of taking a deep breath, straightening herself and then walking toward the door. He followed at a distance and watched her go into the library. It was a nice day, so he stayed outside and finished his reading. At quarter to 10, fifteen minutes before her next class, she stepped outside and started the long walk across campus. She met a few people on the sidewalk and nodded her head as a way of greeting, but he didn't think she spoke. She walked into the building, up to the second floor and slipped into the classroom. Henry got a little closer this time, passing the room where he saw her sitting in the corner desk, nearest the door.

He found a seat under the stairs and proceeded to work there. An hour later, Lizzie was once again the last to leave the room, but she only had to go downstairs to the main level and her classroom was the second on the right. Henry did a quick check and retreated to his previous spot. It was noon when she was done and he followed her at a great distance and watched her enter the cafeteria.

Normally, Henry found it more convenient to eat at his apartment, but since he would be out with Elizabeth until noon three days a week and he had class at one, he had packed his lunch. He sat in the corner away from everyone and noticed that Lizzie went through the line, but took her food in styrofoam to go box and immediately left. He watched from the window as she crossed the street and disappeared into her dorm.

Henry had got the better part of three hours in studying and he was getting his tuition paid. He decided that maybe this wasn't such a bad job after all.

— ∞ —

Elizabeth didn't feel like she exhaled until she stepped foot in her room, closing the door behind her. Her classes went well, but maneuvering the dining hall had proven a little more challenging than she thought it would be. The noise and shuffling of bodies was distracting and all of the smells melded together so that she was unable to distinguish one from another. She had to listen to what others around her were asking for in the line. She thought she ended up with lasagna, bread and a vegetable, maybe green beans. She pulled a metal fork from the plastic storage drawer next to the microwave and sat at her desk. She unhinged the box and popped the lid back.

The food was okay although the green beans were much more likely poorly prepared asparagus. She wasn't quite sure and since she wasn't a big fan of vegetables anyway, that was left uneaten. The rest was tolerable.

Her regular textbooks remained in her backpack, as they really only served as a prop. Something to be taken out in class if absolutely necessary. Elizabeth pushed her meal box into the trash can and went to use the bathroom and wash her fork. Returning, it went back into the drawer and she turned to sit at her Brailler. Feeding the thick paper into the machine, she began to type everything she could remember from her first class. Filing that sheet of notes in a drawer, she took another sheet of paper out and typed Braille notes from the second class and then repeated it for the third. Satisfied that she had covered the notes for the day,she pulled out the Braille version of her text and started reading. It was late when she yawned and put her books away. She ate a bowl of cereal before she readied herself for bed. With her pajamas on and teeth brushed, Elizabeth stooped to pull the framed picture of her family out of her backpack, slipping it under her pillow before she laid down.

Days came and went. Elizabeth fell into a routine. She was becoming comfortable moving around to her classes. There was only one thing troubling her. She was sure that someone was following her.

There was a specific scent that hung in the air as she moved around campus each morning. Sometimes the breeze carried it. Other times she walked into it as though the person had been there just moments before. It smelled of Irish Spring soap mixed with a cologne, some kind of musk and spice. It wasn't an unpleasant smell, but it unsettled her all the same.

She mentioned it to Joan, who dismissed it saying that many freshmen probably had her same schedule and would be crossing campus at the same time. Elizabeth tried to forget it, but it nagged at her each day as she moved about.

It was nearing the end of her second month of classes. Things were going pretty well. She'd made it through the first round of midterms, taking them at the student learning center, and her grades were good. Elizabeth was thankful for all of the time that she put in to master reading Braille because her reading load this first semester was heavy. If she wasn't already a proficient reader, she wouldn't have been able to keep up.

These were all things that were at the forefront of her mind as she counted the steps on the way to class on a Thursday late in October. The air was damp and slightly frosty. She tugged her coat closer around her and continued to count. She was just short of halfway there.

She heard the sound of feet slapping the sidewalk, first from a distance and then closing in quickly. A pungent odor she couldn't identify filled her nostrils and as she tried to step to the side to move out of the way, her foot slipped off the edge of the sidewalk, twisting her ankle as she stepped off into the grass. A pair of hands slammed into her back and looped around the strap on her backpack, where it lay across her shoulder. With a hard tug, it was pulling away from her body.

Elizabeth went sprawling forward, twisting as the second backpack strap pulled her right arm back. Her hand clenched tightly around the strap. She landed on her side and the backpack was being pulled so hard that she was being dragged with it. Her senses were overwhelmed, a man cursing, the smell of what she, in hindsight, decided was adrenaline and fear, the sound of the nylon of her backpack giving way, her things falling from her backpack clattering across the cement, glass shattering, more pounding footsteps, and then the unmistakable sound of skin hitting skin and the sickening crack of bone, followed by a groan and cursing and staggering steps, stumbling away.

Then the smell she had caught whiffs of for months now was engulfing her. "Are you alright? Be careful. There's glass everywhere," a man's voice said.

Panic rose within her and she started reaching blindly. Her picture. It was the one thing she had that meant something to her. She carried it everywhere. Shards of glass pricked her palms, but she didn't care. Then suddenly Elizabeth was being pulled to her feet. She screamed and writhed against the action. The man released her and stepped away, but he didn't leave. "Here," he said, but Elizabeth made no move, frozen in fear.

Henry had been walking ahead that morning, keeping at least 30 paces in front of her. He checked over his shoulder occasionally, but he'd been doing this for over two months. Lizzie didn't need assistance and she'd never missed a class. Henry tried to explain to Joan that it was unnecessary and that she could prorate the amount she had paid, but she wouldn't hear of it. "Just keep doing what you're doing," she said and that had been the end of the discussion.

Henry heard what he assumed was a jogger and turned just in time to see a tall, lean man, wearing black sweatpants and a gray hooded sweatshirt, shove Elizabeth and attempt to snatch her backpack. He immediately turned to race back toward her. To his horror, Elizabeth was being dragged down the sidewalk because she wouldn't let go of the bag. Just as Henry got close, the zipper gave way, sending the contents flying, including a picture frame which landed on its corner, shattering the glass all over the concrete.

The man was looking at Lizzie and Henry caught him off guard, grabbing him by the shirt and throwing a left hook, which connected with a loud crack to his jaw. The man groaned and attempted to throw his own punch, but Henry blocked it and threw an uppercut to the man's chin. He stumbled away cursing and Henry thought about chasing him down, but Lizzie was laying there, slightly dazed. He bent down just as she pushed herself up."Be careful. There's glass everywhere."

He thought that she would've backed away, but at the warning of glass, she leaned forward and began searching for something, wildly feeling about, seemingly unfazed by the pieces of glass that embedded her palms. She did not find what she was searching for.

He reached around her and she immediately started screaming. He let her go once she was on her feet and started to pick up her things. A notebook that looked brand new, a biology and psychology text, a copy of Macbeth, a family photo and a white stick that had started to unfold and was laying at odd shoved everything back inside the bag. "Here," he said, but she made no move to get them. There was no recognition of any sort.

Suddenly, so many little things fell into place. He'd peeked into her lectures a couple times and found her sitting with an open notebook in front of her and she held a pen but didn't take a single note. She sat in the library between classes with an open textbook, but may never turn the page. He'd seen someone slow so that she could cross the street, but she refused to do so until they passed. All of these things seemed like odd occurrences, but now as Henry picked up the white cane and held the backpack in front of her and all she had to do was reach out and take it, she didn't, because she didn't see what he was doing.

"You can't see," he murmured.

A look of utter devastation crossed her face. "Who are you?" she asked in a panicked whisper.

"I'm Henry McCord." He thrust her backpack close enough that she sensed the movement and she reached out to take it. "Careful. The zipper is broken. How can I hellp?" he asked. She clutched the backpack to her chest.

"Thank you, but I'm fine. I need to go to class," she ignored her shaking voice, the throbbing in her ankle and hip and the stinging in her hands.

"You're bleeding, and you need to be looked at by a doctor."

"I said, I'm fine." Elizabeth moved several steps in what she thought was the direction of her class before she realized that she'd lost count of her steps and she wasn't sure exactly where she was. Frustration mounted and she hated to feel helpless.

She was still working out a plan when the man, Henry, spoke. "You're not fine. You're limping and you're bleeding. Let me take you back to your dorm. You can get cleaned up and go to your next class." She finally nodded imperceptibly and he took her by the elbow. "Is this okay?" he asked. When she didn't pull away, he took that to be her agreement.

They walked the better part of half a block without speaking. Elizabeth limped at Henry's side, her ankle shooting stabbing pains up her leg. The traffic was deafening and even Henry's breathing seemed labored. Finally Elizabeth asked, "Why do you follow me?"

Henry stared down at her. His mouth fell open. Now, especially knowing she had some sort of vision impairment, he had no idea how she would possibly know. He figured that given her response earlier, she wouldn't take kindly to being followed. "I don't know what you mean. I wasn't following you. I just happened to see what was happening."

She stopped. "You just happened to be in the right place at the right time, yet you know where I live." Henry winced. Shit!

"Lizzie, look…" He was about to try and plead his case when her expression hardened and she scowled.

"It's Joan isn't it? She has you following me? Oh my God. I'm going to kill her." Elizabeth yanked herself out of Henry's grasp and started walking faster, putting distance between them. Henry took three long strides and caught up to her.

"Look. It's not anything horrible. She was concerned about you. And what would've happened if I hadn't been around? You don't know what that creep might have tried." Henry pleaded. Elizabeth glared at him and it struck him as odd that for someone who couldn't see, she could still use her eyes to convey emotions. And she was pissed.

Elizabeth turned sharply in front of Henry and started to cross the street. She was about ten yards too soon, but he followed her anyway. "Go away," she said, her voice louder than speaking, but not yelling.

"Lizzie."

"It's Elizabeth," she snapped.

"Ok, Elizabeth. I understand why you're mad. You have every right to be mad. But here's the thing. Right now, you're about to go into the wrong building and you've probably got glass in your hands. Let me get you back to your dorm. I'll help you get cleaned up, and then you can feel free to call Joan and yell at her."

Elizabeth kept most of her weight on her left leg, as her right ankle was throbbing. This entire situation infuriated her, but as much as she didn't want to admit it, Henry was right. Her hands were stinging, her backpack wasn't able to go on her back, she couldn't use her white cane even if she wanted to and she was disoriented.

"Fine," she mumbled. She thought that Henry might have some sort of smart comeback about how he was right, but he didn't. He just placed his hand at her elbow and they started walking in silence.

It wasn't long and she found herself sitting on the edge of the sink in the public bathroom on the first floor of her dorm. Her right hand was splayed out and Henry held it carefully while he prodded it with a pair of tweezers, pulling out tiny splinters of glass.

"Where did you find those?" she asked, referring to the implement he was using.

"There's a first aid kid on the wall out in the hallway," he said softly as he concentrated. She flinched and he murmured, "Sorry." He switched hands and studied the other one, before pulling out two more pieces. "How does that feel? I think I got them all." She flexed her hands.

"They don't sting like they did." She kept her head down. Gently, he took her hands and washed them with soap and warm water. He carefully blotted them dry with a paper towel. "Thank you ," Elizabeth said softly.

"It's not a problem. Now, let's go sit down and I'll have a look at your ankle." Once again, he took her by the elbow and led her into the lounge area and helped her sit down. Kneeling at her feet, he waited for her to slip her foot out of her ballet slipper. He felt around and bent her ankle. She grimaced, but didn't make a sound. Henry noticed.

"It's starting to swell. You would probably be wise to take the morning off and keep it elevated."

"No, it will be fine. I turn this ankle a lot. I'm used to it. Thanks for your help, but I really need to get to my next class." Elizabeth barely gave Henry enough time to back out of the way before she stood.

"Let me walk with you," Henry offered.

Elizabeth shook her head. "That won't be necessary and I don't know what kind of arrangement my aunt has worked out with you, but I'm ending it now."

"I'm afraid you can't do that. You're not my employer," Henry said.

"I could file a restraining order against you," Elizabeth replied.

"You could, but really, do you want to? Until today, you didn't know I existed. We can just go back to that relationship," Henry offered.

Elizabeth sighed, "For now that's fine. I will be taking this up with Joan though."

"I would expect no less. And, Elizabeth, I'm sorry I wasn't a little quicker. If I hadn't been so far away, maybe I could've stopped that creep before you got hurt."

They walked most of the way in silence. Elizabeth's ankle was throbbing, but she didn't say anything. It had been a trying morning and she was angry, hurting, and overwhelmed.

Henry watched Elizabeth. She was an interesting person. "Why don't you want people to know that you can't see?" He finally asked. "Isn't it hard to keep it from people?"

"I don't need to give people another reason to pity me," she said. "I get along just fine most of the time."

"You do," Henry agreed. "I don't think people would pity you at all though. You seem very strong and determined."

She shrugged and without speaking, headed up the steps and disappeared into the building. Henry followed several places behind and assumed his position near the stairs to study. After her second class, she started walking toward the cafeteria and Henry fell in step behind her.

"What are you doing?" she asked, not bothering to turn around.

"I'm on my way to lunch," Henry said.

"You're following me," Elizabeth snapped.

"Yes, and then I eat lunch." They trekked across campus with Elizabeth walking two paces in front of Henry. As they approached the dining hall, Henry spoke. "You're welcome to join me. I notice you usually leave," Henry offered.

"No thanks," Elizabeth said, as she pushed the dining hall door open and then let it fall closed right in front of Henry.