AN: I love the fact that so many new stories are popping up. It seems we've had a bit of a resurgence. Thanks to all who continue to read. I appreciate it. I hope everyone has a great weekend!

Chapter 9

"Joan! You can't just hire someone to follow me around. I'm completely capable of taking care of myself." Elizabeth paced her floor 5 steps to the window, 5 steps back to the closet and back again.

"Today was a good example of you taking care of yourself." Joan argued. "What if Henry hadn't been there?"

"I would've made do," Elizabeth said. "That was a freak accident and the same thing could've happened to anyone." Elizabeth turned sharply, rolling her ankle and sucked in a sharp breath.

"But it wasn't anyone. It was you." Joan's voice quivered. "I've allowed you to do what you want to do and haven't said too much. But this is where I draw the line. Henry stays and you'll have to get over it."

Elizabeth's mouth hung open. She wanted to tell Joan exactly what she thought of her micromanaging style, how she could take care of herself, but she didn't. She listened to Joan's stuttered breath. It sounded like Joan may have started crying. Guilt crept inside her, blending with the frustration and anger. She could yell at Joan and demand that she tell Henry to stay away, but she didn't. Instead, she slammed the phone down and leaned against the desk and balanced her ankle against her knee and rubbed it, trying to soothe herself both physically and mentally.

Dropping her foot to the floor, Elizabeth sat down at her desk and felt around for her backpack, pulling it over to rest between her feet. She removed the textbooks and then carefully reached down, gingerly pulling the photo frame out. She held the frame over the trash can and shook it. Small pieces of glass fell and clunked as they tumbled into the metal can.

Holding it over the receptacle, Elizabeth pushed aside the clasps that held the cardboard in place. Removing that and then carefully the picture, other pieces of glass fell in. She tapped the wooden frame on the side, hoping any remaining small pieces would fall out and replaced the picture and cardboard. When she slid the clasps back into place, it fit looser, but was still functional. She would just need to be careful.

Elizabeth pushed the trash can back under the desk and rose. Moving to the bed, she placed the frame under her pillow and climbed beneath the covers.

— ∞ —

Of course the first thing Henry did when he made it back home was to call Joan. The older woman was beside herself and Henry apologized more than once. She told him that it wasn't his fault but that this was exactly the reason she'd insisted on someone being there to watch over Lizzie.

"How come you didn't tell me that she was blind?" Henry asked.

There was silence on the other end of the line, then a sigh. "She doesn't like people to know. She wants to pretend she's just like everyone else."

Henry scrubbed his hand over his face. "Well she most certainly knows I exist now and she told me that I was fired."

"That is absolutely not the case. She doesn't get to dictate the terms of our agreement. She and I will be having that discussion. You just show up in the morning." Joan hung up the phone and Henry did the same. He sat back on his couch and wondered how that conversation would go.

The next morning, he assumed his regular position on the bench just up from her dorm and he waited. At 7:45 on the nose, Elizabeth stepped out onto the porch. Today, she had a new backpack and she wore black sweatpants and a dark colored hoodie beneath her windbreaker. He wondered if her hip or leg was bruised from the fall. He also wondered how her hands were doing. He hoped he got all of the glass out, although he didn't particularly think she would let him check to see if any of the cuts looked infected. He figured Elizabeth would let gangrene set in and amputate her arms before she would willingly let him see.

He watched as she crossed the street and she surprised him when she turned and looked directly at him. "Well, if you're going to be my babysitter, you might as well walk with me instead of lurking behind like some sort of creeper."

Henry scrambled off the bench and jogged the distance to join her. "I'm surprised you gave in so easily," Henry said as they fell into step.

"It seems as though the point is non-negotiable. Now if you don't mind, I don't like to talk while I'm walking." Elizabeth didn't break her stride and Henry was quiet. He wondered why, but assumed it wouldn't do any good to ask her.

When they entered the building, Henry stepped ahead and peeked into the lecture hall. "No one's there yet. Can I talk to you? It will only take a second," he said.

Elizabeth pursed her lips as though she had to think about it. Finally she shrugged. Henry took that to be a yes.

"I got you something." He shifted his backpack around and tugged at the zipper. He handed her the package. "Here, I thought you could use this."

Elizabeth was perplexed. "I don't really like surprises," she said.

"I don't think it's much of a surprise," Henry said.

Slipping her finger under a flap, she pulled, and the paper ripped along the edge of the tape. She tore it back and let her fingers float over the object. "You got me a picture frame?"

"It's not exactly like your other one, but it has plexiglass in it instead of real glass, so it won't break if it gets dropped again. If you want, I can put your picture in it for you."

Elizabeth ran her fingers over the ridges in the wood. It wasn't exactly the same, but it was remarkably close. Suddenly, a pressure built in her chest and the emotion burned at the back of her eyes. "No thank you. I will do it later." She tried her hardest to maintain her facade, but she felt it splintering just like the glass in her frame. "It's a very thoughtful gift. Thank you." And with that, she slipped past him, into the lecture hall.

Henry watched her go and wished that he could get her to share a bit more of herself.

Over the next few weeks, and after much persuading, Henry finally talked Elizabeth into sitting with him at the library between her classes. He found a small corner in the basement where there were two cushioned armchairs that were more comfortable, not like the wooden straight back chairs at the long tables in the study areas.

Elizabeth settled into the chair. It was getting close to Thanksgiving and it was chilly outside. She was surprised when Henry offered her a drink. "While you were in class, I ran over to the Union and got us both a hot chocolate. I hope that's okay."

Before she could stop herself, Elizabeth smiled. "I like hot chocolate." She reached out and Henry placed it in her hand. "Thank you," she murmured, carefully bringing it up so that she could blow into the small hole in the lid. "How hot is it?" she asked.

"It's about 10 minutes old." Henry brought the cup to his lips and tentatively took a sip. "Not bad at all."

Elizabeth raised the cup and took a small drink. Then another. She held the cup, but rested it on the arm of the chair. Her brows pulled in close as she thought about what she was going to say. "Henry, I appreciate you taking the time to be nice to me, but you don't have to. I know I'm just a paycheck."

Henry opened his mouth to argue, but he didn't exactly have an argument. She was right. He was doing this because he was being paid, but there was something more and that he hadn't quite reconciled yet. So, instead, he said, "I'm already here. We might as well be friendly to each other. Besides, when you aren't snapping at me, you are nice."

Elizabeth gasped in mock horror and then smirked. "I've only really snapped at you a couple times. And that was probably as much me being mad at Joan as it was anything you did." She took another drink.

They spent their library time over the next couple of weeks getting to know each other and although Elizabeth didn't share anything too personal, Henry grew more infatuated with her.

He didn't see her much over finals week and then he headed back to Pittsburgh for Christmas with his family. When he returned to Charlottesville a few days after Christmas, he was surprised to find her sitting in the library.

"Elizabeth!" he exclaimed as he rounded the corner. Her head popped up and she immediately slid the book she had off the table.

"Henry, what are you doing here? I thought you would be at home." Elizabeth's tone was almost accusatory and Henry was surprised.

"I have some research to do in preparation for my thesis this next term. I just thought I'd get started while it was quiet. What are you doing here? I thought you'd be at home as well." Henry studied Elizabeth as she closed her eyes and he guessed that she was trying to come up with a suitable answer.

Elizabeth wasn't expecting to run into anyone at all, let alone Henry. But she couldn't deny that she was happy that he was there. A feeling of warmth permeated her chest, pressing against the hurt that permanently resided there. She hadn't felt that in such a long time, and she didn't exactly know how to react.

"Joan is off visiting her grandchildren and my brother is on a trip with some friends. Truthfully, I'd rather be in my dorm room than at Joan's. Her house doesn't quite feel like home to me."

"What are you doing for food? Isn't the dining hall closed?" Henry asked

She nodded. "It is, but I have Spaghettios and cereal and there's always pizza delivery." Elizabeth smiled softly.

"Come to my place tonight and I'll fix us dinner. It will definitely be better than your other options." He nudged her shoulder "And bring what you're reading. I'm interested to know how you read." A blush rose in her cheeks. She didn't like to have her Braille books out on display. The only reason she brought it was because she didn't think anyone would be in the library.

"Please stop being embarrassed. It's not like I couldn't figure out that you'd need to read Braille."

Henry picked her up at the dorm. He made her grilled cheese that night and she asked him about his family and his Christmas and she artfully dodged the questions he asked about her family. Instead, she pulled her Braille textbook out of her bag. He scooted closer to her. The book was made of thicker paper and bound together with a black plastic coil.

She showed him how the letters were formed, a series of six dots in a 2x3 rectangle. "Some people think it's like a foreign language, but it's not. It's a style of type with some shorthand thrown in. It's just your basic alphabet and then some patterns that mean the most frequently used words and some other letter combinations to shorten the words." She took his hand and ran it over the raised dots. "See this right here is the word 'and,' but 'reporting' is separate letters except for the 'ing.' That's a combination symbol."

Henry looked at where their hands were joined and he looked at Elizabeth, whose head was bent, focused on the explanation. Her hair was pulled back in a low ponytail held with a brown elastic at the base of her neck, just like it was every day. Except this day his eyes fell on the exposed patch of skin behind her ear,next to her hairline. It looked soft and he was tempted to lean in and put his lips there. He suddenly shook his head, trying to rid himself of the thought. Henry pulled his hand back, saying, "That's very interesting. How long did it take you to learn to read it?"

Henry tried to focus on Elizabeth's words but his eyes sought out her jaw and he wanted to nuzzle her close and pull her earlobe into his mouth and nibble it in hopes that her breath would hitch. Unable to stay in that place any longer, he jumped up from the couch. "How do you feel about ice cream?

Elizabeth's head popped up, her Braille explanation forgotten. "I like ice cream."

He retreated to the kitchen and she followed him. Henry turned and was surprised to see her. "How do you learn your way around places so quickly?"

Her face fell, but for just a split second. Her expression cleared. "I use geometrical principles to figure the placement of things I know and plug them into the formulas to figure the sizes of objects. Then I just try not to run into anything."

"And you do that in your head? That's amazing," Henry said, full of awe.

"That, and I count steps. I came to campus early and worked with someone in the Learning Center to walk me all over campus. I know how many steps it takes to get to certain landmarks and then how many steps it is to where I need to go."

"And you just remember all of that, for everywhere you go? I have trouble remembering to get milk when I'm at the grocery store and then there's you."

Elizabeth smiled. "Then your mind will be blown to discover that I remember it for everywhere I've been. Somehow, my brain just files numbers well."

"That's an understatement," Henry said.

They were quiet, eating their small bowls of ice cream. "I've really enjoyed today," Henry said.

Elizabeth kept her head down. "Yeah, better than what my day would've been. Thanks."

"It's getting late. I should probably take you back to the dorm, but maybe I could see you tomorrow?"

Elizabeth shook her head. "Joan comes home tomorrow. I'm sure she will make me go home with her. Maybe some other time."

The way she said it, Henry had the distinct feeling that if she had her choice, some other time wouldn't be for a while, which was curious because she seemed to enjoy his company..

He was driving her back in his truck when he finally mustered the courage to ask. "Why do you and your brother live with your aunt?"

Elizabeth was shocked that the question, asked in innocence, could hurt so deeply. She knew Henry expected an answer, but every answer seemed worse than the next. My parents died. There was an accident. Joan inherited us. We're orphans. When Henry pulled up and parked in the fire lane in front of the dorm. Elizabeth felt Henry shift closer and while she wasn't sure what he was going to do, she knew exactly what she wasn't going to let happen. She quickly opened the door and slid out onto the sidewalk. "Joan decided it was for the best," Elizabeth said, and then scurried up to the door and slipped inside, leaving Henry with a bewildered expression.

Henry watched her go and his mind raced with possible explanations. Joan decided it was for the best. What was that supposed to mean? Perhaps there had been a falling out. Perhaps her parents were on drugs or in some other way derelict in their parenting. Perhaps something had happened to them. Henry wrinkled his nose in thought. Surely if that were the case, Joan would've mentioned it. For Lizzie and Will. Perhaps it was something bad as much as Joan prayed for them.

He didn't see her for the rest of the break and he called Joan to let her know that he would continue to make sure Elizabeth got to class, but he refused to take any money for it. The goal of working in the first place was to secure the amount needed for his tuition and he'd already done that. And he only had four afternoon classes and then he was the TA for a section of a freshman level World Religions class. That would give him some spending money. Joan objected but then relented when Henry told her that he didn't think he should be paid for something he would do anyway.

It was bitter cold that twelfth day of January when classes started. Henry pulled his truck up the street and parked. It was too cold to sit outside, and it was much too cold for Elizabeth to walk to class. His plan was to drop her off. At 7:40, she stepped out onto the porch. He guessed she was a bit earlier because her class was in a building that was farther away. He watched as she took a deep breath and then frowned. She hesitated for just a moment and then stepped down to the sidewalk and started out.

Henry pulled up and parked across the street. "It's really cold. Would you like a ride?" Elizabeth looked up at the sound of his she smiled. It was small, but it was real. Henry checked traffic and got out of the truck, moving across the street to get her. "Come on," he said. Without thinking, Henry slipped his hand around hers and led her around the front of the truck. When she got in, he bounded around to join her.

She unbuttoned the top button of her navy blue wool coat. "I didn't think you'd be here. You know, with it being a new semester. I thought you'd have better things to do." Elizabeth's voice faded away as she tipped her head to the floor.

"I haven't seen you in a while. I missed you," Henry said simply.

Elizabeth kept her head down. "Joan took Will and I to Colorado to visit her daughter. They went skiing. I drank hot chocolate and sat by the fire."

"Sounds like a good time," Henry commented. He couldn't help but wish he could sit in front of a fire with Elizabeth curled against him drinking hot chocolate.

She shrugged. "It was a little lonesome, but Joan and Will had a nice time."

Henry pulled into the employee-only driveway next to the building and got out. He opened the door and took her hand, but Elizabeth pulled it away. "I think I can manage," she murmured. "Thank you."

She stepped slowly to the sidewalk and he watched as her hand reached out, hoping to catch the handrail. Elizabeth almost missed it, but a large group of students barrelling out of the building alerted her and she stopped and listened. She adjusted and took a few steps back and reached a little farther this time and her gloved fingers caught the rod iron railing. Slowly she climbed the steps and disappeared into the building.

Elizabeth took her place, sitting closest to the door. She tried to listen to the professor as the woman laid out the expectations for the class, but her mind kept wandering. She had spent the last several days pushing thoughts of Henry away. She didn't want to like him. She didn't see that anything good could come from it, but Elizabeth couldn't deny how she'd been sad when she stepped outside and thought that Henry wasn't there and then the accompanying relief and warmth she felt when he appeared to pick her up. It was frightening and pointless as far as she could tell. Of course, Henry was a nice guy, but that's where it ended. He was being paid to be around her. He didn't have any other feelings toward her. She needed to get rid of those thoughts. Thinking that something may ever happen between them was ridiculous, both because of her situation and her unwillingness to get attached to someone again. But, even as she rationalized it, there was a running current of something else just below that, something to which she was refusing to give any credence.

When she left the class, Henry stood in the hallway waiting. "How was the first day?" he asked. Elizabeth, who had been lost in her thoughts, jumped, startled that he was there.

"It was okay. Just intro stuff," she said. At least she hoped it was. She couldn't say that she paid a whole lot of attention.

"Good. Do you want to go to the library? Or, since you don't really have anything to do, maybe we could get a coffee?"

She knew she should just go sit in the library. That would be the safe thing to do. It would be the prudent thing to do. She knew she liked Henry, but there was no sense in cultivating those feelings when he would never reciprocate, and she didn't really want him to. "Sure. I could go with having a coffee," What? Why did I just do that? Henry pulled the door open to the Union and she felt his hand low on her back as he ushered her through the door.

He picked a small table in the window where the January sun shone through the glass, giving the impression that the temperature was warmer than freezing. There weren't many people around this early. Elizabeth was thankful. She didn't care for hustle and bustle. Elizabeth shed her coat, letting it flop over the chair, exposing the lining, and she rested against the back, the sun warming her face. Just when she began wondering what was taking so long, Henry reappeared. Sliding into the chair opposite her, the wooden legs scraped against the ceramic tiles. He set her cup down and then his. There was rustling and then the skitter of what she guessed were sugar packets shooting across the table and the clack of tiny creamer cups. "I've known you for quite a while and have no idea how you take your coffee. That's a little embarrassing," he said.

Elizabeth forced a small smile. "You shouldn't be expected to know that. We don't spend that kind of time together." Her smile faded and, carefully, she popped the lid from the cup and her fingers floated over the sugar packets. She took one, ripped the top back two-thirds of the way and tilted it so that a steady stream of sugar crystals slid out and into the cup. Then she collected two coffee creamers and peeling the tops back, she poured them in. Before she could pat around searching for the stirrer, Henry reached out and tapped her finger with it. "Thank you," she murmured and stirred the concoction around in the styrofoam cup. Replacing the lid, she took a sip.

"I think we should," Henry said.

"Should what?" A crease across Elizabeth's forehead deepend as she tried to remember the context of his comment.

"I think we should start spending more time together," he replied. He reached out and brushed her hand.

She chuckled, pulling her hand back. "That sounds like a good way to destroy your social life. Besides, you already waste enough of your time hanging out with me. You really need to get out more."

Henry wanted to argue that he didn't want to get out more and that spending time with her was never a waste of his time. But it seemed that she was trying to shut him down without actually saying it. He didn't want to make it awkward. If she didn't want anything, but friendship, then so be it. He could compartmentalize his feelings. She never needed to know.