AN: Happy Presidents' Day (if you're in the US)! I just got back from a work trip where I was able to hang out with the beautiful kimesita for a few days. She very kindly reminded me that I had not updated in a while, so I promised her that I would. I hope you enjoy this latest installment Please let me know what you think. I'd love to chat about this or about anything really. Feel free to PM me or look me up on Tumblr or Twitter. :)
Have a great week, everyone!
Chapter 12
Elizabeth sat across from Henry. They were tucked into a booth in the back corner of the pizza place down the street from campus. Normally, she shied away from restaurants. The amount of noise to shift through made it difficult for her to focus. And, with the constant anxiety she had over tripping, spilling something, or otherwise doing something to draw attention to herself, she never enjoyed the outing. Whenever Henry suggested going out, Elizabeth just suggested something else. He always obliged, but today he wouldn't take no for an answer.
She was filled with trepidation when he pulled to a stop in front of Pauly's Pizzeria. Henry squeezed her hand and hopped out of the truck. Only a couple seconds passed before her door opened. He must have raced to get it. His thoughtfulness cut through her worry for a moment. As she stepped from the car, he slipped his hand into hers and leaned in close. "It's four steps to the parking block and then another six to the door."
Elizabeth nodded, adjusted her purse on her shoulder, and started walking with Henry falling into step. 1, 2, 3, 4, step over the block, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6. Henry's grip on her hand tightened slightly and she stopped, but was surprised when they waited. 'What are we doing?" she asked.
Henry murmured, "Just hold on." Then there was a tap on the glass and a long pause before she heard the sound of a deadbolt sliding back into the lock. Bells above the door jingled as the wooden frame ground out of its place.
"Henry!" the voice from the other side of the entryway boomed. "Come in. This must be Elizabeth." Elizabeth felt the heat from the man's hand a split second before it landed on her shoulder. It gave her just enough time not to jump at his touch. Inwardly, she cringed, but forced a smile.
"Hello," she said.
"Elizabeth, this is Pauly. He owns this pizza place." Henry tugged her closer and Pauly's hand fell away.
"It's nice to meet you," she said, nodding.
"Sit where you like. I'll be back to grab your order. I'm going to go fire up the oven." Elizabeth listened to Pauly retreat, his footsteps fading as he moved away, likely toward the kitchen.
It was silent, save for a couple cars passing by and Henry's soft breaths. "Booth or table?" he asked.
"Booth," she said automatically. If she had to eat out, she always preferred a booth as it provided some privacy from curious eyes and judgment. "Looks like 12," he said softly, as he released his grip on her. He took a step and murmured, "Sorry about Pauly. He's Italian and has no sense of personal space. I'm just glad he didn't sweep you up in a bear hug."
Elizabeth chuckled, relaxing a bit more. "Me too."
He stopped her at her 11th step, and apologized for overestimating. She smiled and slipped into the booth. "Where is everyone? It's so quiet." Other than the noise in the background of shuffling and metal pots clanging in the kitchen, there wasn't the usual restaurant noise that usually consumed her.
"I didn't think you would care for a noisy atmosphere, so I took care of that," Henry said. Elizabeth frowned, and he started to apologize for overstepping, but she stopped him.
"How did you know? I never told you." Elizabeth was unsettled. She wondered if maybe Henry had been talking to Joan, although she didn't know if Joan even knew her distress about going out in public places.
"No one told me. I just watch you. I see how you react. Remember, I watched you from afar for quite a while."
Elizabeth frowned. "I didn't know I was that easy to read."
Henry shook his head. "No, no. You aren't, and no one else notices, I'm sure. But, I see you. Most of the time, I have to piece little things together, like your expression when you step out on the porch of your dorm, steeling yourself to walk across campus, counting the steps, and how your forehead crinkles when someone speaks to you while you're walking. You don't want to be distracted, yet you still smile and nod so as not to be seen as rude. You don't speak often because you don't want to lose count of your steps," Henry reached across the table and slipped his palm beneath hers. "Every once in a while, I get lucky and you just give me some bit of something about yourself. Like the other day when we walked through the student union, you commented that it was so noisy that you couldn't think."
Elizabeth responded with a soft smile. "So you cleared out a restaurant for me?"
"I worked for Pauly for a while. I just asked if he minded opening a bit early so I could spend some time with someone special."
"Oh," she mumbled. Her expression softened. "Thank you."
Henry watched as she ate her dinner. She was beautiful and he thought of how he wanted to move their relationship to the next step. He was unsure how to go about doing that. Sometimes, Elizabeth seemed like she was all in. Other times, she seemed to be forcing herself to play the part and then others, she retreated completely. It was hard to keep up.
Her touch brought him out of his thoughts. "Are you okay?" Henry looked down at the table and saw where her fingertips brushed up against his.
"I'm fine. I was just thinking," Henry said, turning his hand over and sliding it under hers.
"About what?" she asked.
Henry squeezed her hand. "Nothing of any consequence. If you're finished eating, we can go. Pauly will be opening soon."
"Henry…thank you for going to all of this trouble. It was very nice." Elizabeth took a drink of water and slid out of the booth. Henry joined her and he was surprised when she reached for him and stepped into his side. Her arm snaked around his back and she rested her head against his shoulder.
Henry turned his body into her and wrapped his arms around her, holding her close. "Thank you for being willing to take a chance on me."
She tipped her head back and he was so close to kissing her, but this wasn't the place and it wasn't something he wanted to initiate. He wanted to wait until she was ready. He didn't know how long that might be, but, ultimately, it didn't matter. Elizbeth was worth waiting for.
Instead, he rested his cheek against the top of her head.. "Come on." Henry turned his attention to the kitchen. "Hey Pauly, we're going to go. The money is by the register."
A faint "Alright, have a good night you two lovebirds," came ringing out of the kitchen. Henry laid a $20 bill on the counter and flipped the deadbolt to let them out of the restaurant.
"It's nice out. Why don't we take a walk?" Elizabeth said, not ready for their date to end. Henry reached out and laced their fingers together.
"Which way?" he asked.
She shrugged. "You pick." Henry turned them left and they walked toward the downtown area. They'd walked a full block in silence when Elizabeth finally spoke, "We can talk you know."
"Oh," Henry said, surprised. "I thought you didn't like to walk and talk."
She offered a guilty grin. "I don't like to hold a conversation while I'm counting steps. I'm okay to talk now."
Henry turned to stare at her and stumbled a bit over a crack in the sidewalk. "You aren't counting?"
She shook her head. "No, I've never been here before." Suddenly she frowned. "That's okay isn't it? I mean, you won't let me kill myself, will you?"
"Of course not. I just thought you always counted. I just—you trust me?"
"Yeah, I trust you," she murmured.
— ∞ —
April meant spring showers and Elizabeth and Henry were doing a poor job of dodging raindrops as they walked to class. The thump of the rain pattering on her umbrella matched Elizabeth's pulse. "Do you have plans this weekend?" Elizabeth asked as they stood at the crosswalk, waiting to cross the street.
"I have ROTC drill Saturday morning, but I'm done around noon. Do you have plans?"
"Well, I was just thinking, would you like to go on a walk with me Saturday afternoon?" Elizabeth's heart pounded in her chest. She had never been one to make plans. The last time she made plans with a boy, her parents didn't come home. She shook her head. This was different, completely different.
Henry was surprised by the question and would've immediately responded yes, but Elizabeth seemed to play out a whole scenario in her head before she finally turned to him. Only then did he respond. "Sure, where do you want to go?"
"Really? You're sure? It's outside of town. I'd have to tell you how to get there." Elizabeth wondered if she supplied that information, if Henry would want to back out.
"How about 2 o'clock? That will give me time to get home and shower. Then I'll pick you up." Henry offered.
She smiled. "Good. It's a date!"
Elizabeth sat on the edge of her bed on Saturday morning and tried to control her nerves. She'd tried to be nonchalant when she asked Henry if he wanted to go with her. Of course, he didn't hesitate. She didn't really think he would, but could he know how important this was, or how deeply terrifying? Elizabeth's thoughts drifted back to her childhood when her father would hand her and Will their fishing poles, secured in the long tubes with nylon woven straps. He'd help them pull one arm through and duck their head under the strap so that it lay across their chest, the pole crosswise against their back. Then he would do the same and grab the large tackle box from the bed of the truck. They'd cross the drainage ditch and start walking.
She and Will spent hours with their father learning to cast their lines into the water. It wasn't always fun. Most of the time it was damp and the air was heavy. She would sweat inside her waders, but her exposed skin wore a layer of goosebumps as a jacket. Will would gode her into an argument and Ben would get frustrated with their bickering. Some days they spent all morning at the stream catching nothing, and it seemed like a waste of time.
But, it wasn't the number of fish they caught or how they honed their skills over the years. It was the time spent together. It was the way they loved each other in those moments. That was what she was hoping to share with Henry.
The situation made her feel vulnerable and she thought about calling and canceling. She could say she wasn't feeling well, but knowing Henry, he would show up on her doorstep with a bowl of soup and then she'd have to explain that away. No, she needed to do this, and for the most part, the struggle that the walk would be would take her mind off of what she was going to do.
Henry sat in the truck outside of Elizabeth's building, his fingers nervously tapping his thighs. It was 2:06. He'd never known Elizabeth to be late. He was worried that something was wrong. He was just about to storm the building and go find her when the door opened and she stepped out. He watched as she stepped off the porch onto the sidewalk. Something was definitely off. Her movements were stiff. She walked further and then Henry noticed. She was wearing tennis shoes instead of her normal soft soled flats. It's more difficult for her to feel the ground beneath her. Henry leapt from the truck. "Hey there," he said, as he approached, taking her arm without addressing the difficulty she seemed to be having.
She seemed to relax just a bit. "Hi," she said.
"You got new shoes," Henry commented.
"I've had them for a while. I don't think I've ever worn them though. But, my regular shoes aren't really appropriate for where we are going. It is a little more challenging to walk with confidence. It's funny how I am used to relying on feeling the difference in where I'm walking. It's like being blind in a sense." She let out a half giggle, half bark. "That was an odd turn of phrase."
Henry smiled. "I knew what you meant." He opened the truck door. "Your chariot awaits." She smiled and climbed in. She took several deep breaths, trying to calm herself while Henry walked around to get in the drivers' seat. Once in, he turned to her. "Alright, where are we headed?"
"You need to take Jefferson Parkway to 790 to Old Lynchburg Road. Then take a right on Hardware River Road. I'll have to talk you in from there."
"Let's go." He appraised Elizabeth and how rigidly she held her body. "Are you okay?"
Elizabeth turned toward him and offered him a taut smile. "I am. Just a little nervous. I haven't been there in a while. I just hope it's like I remember."
"I'm sure it will be." He glanced over at her and reached across, catching her hand. "I'm sure it will be," he murmured.
Once Henry turned onto the two lane paved road, Elizabeth sat up straighter. "About a mile down the road, there is a conservation area. We don't want that one, but it's the trail after."
Henry scanned the roadside. "Left hand side?"
"Right," she said, and then laughed nervously. "I mean right as in you are correct. It's on the left hand side."
Everything was overgrown and Henry had a hard time making out where he needed to park. "There's the conservation area. How far is it to the next turn?"
"Now," Elizabeth said. Henry scanned the side of the road. "You've gone too far," Elizabeth said, after a moment. "Maybe it's not there anymore." She sounded sad, and her sadness made Henry's chest tighten.
"I probably just drove past it. Let me turn around." After a four point turn in the middle of the road, Henry made his way back the direction they had just come from. This time he saw a small wooden sign with a simple fish symbol carved into it. "Does it have a fish sign?" he asked.
She nodded and her smile was wide for a moment and then it faltered. "Yeah, that's it." Henry pulled off the side of the road, his truck parked at a steep angle.
"Let me help you out. I don't want you to step in a hole."
"I'll be fine," she started.
"Elizabeth," he said. "Let me, please?" Henry's tone was urgent and Elizabeth quickly relented. She realized that she would most definitely need his help to navigate the path. She held her hands up in defeat and he grabbed her hand, kissing the back of it. "Thank you," he said.
Henry opened the truck door and, with the steep angle, Elizabeth slid out onto the ground, and Henry caught her. They carefully walked along the embankment until they reached the opening. Henry surveyed the trail. "This looks treacherous,' he commented.
"Good thing I have you to lead the way, huh?" she answered, and Henry turned to look at her. His surprise was evident. Even though she often followed his lead, he'd never questioned her ability to make it without him. This, on the other hand, would be difficult, if not impossible for Elizabeth to do alone. He had some trouble wrapping his mind around her trusting him like that. This wasn't a sidewalk on a city street. This was the middle of nowhere.
"Come. We're burning daylight." She grinned and nudged him forward. The walk, which was more akin to a hike, took nearly 45 minutes. It was slow going and he spent a lot of time talking about everything that was in front of them and he held onto her more than he ever let her go, but when they finally stepped out into the clearing, his breath was taken away. They stood at the bank of a cold water trout river. The cool water took the edge off of the warm day, and the sound of water rushing over the rocks was soothing. The sun shone through the tops of the many trees that lined the river, casting dappled shadows across the bank. "It's beautiful, isn't it?" Elizabeth asked.
"It is. How did you know this was here?" Henry asked.
She started to speak. "My," Elizabeth paused. She'd almost let it slip. My dad used to bring us here. Quickly, she pushed that pain away. "This is where I learned to fish. I can't begin to count the number of hours I've spent here. It always was so beautiful and peaceful, but now I notice so much more than I ever did then." They stood in silence for a moment before Elizabeth gestured to her right. "The dock is still there isn't it?"
Henry answered, "Yes. Shall we go sit? Maybe dangle our feet in the water?" She grinned and nodded. So he led her. "It's about 20 paces."
Soon they sat side by side, shoes and socks abandoned beside them, toes dipping in the frigid water. Elizabeth was silent and Henry watched her carefully. He felt like she had something important she was wanting to say. Finally, she reached out and placed her hand on Henry's thigh. "I don't know much about relationships. I don't know if I'll say or do the right things and that's scary because what if I ruin what we have trying to make it be more?"
"We'll just talk through it, okay? Anything you want to know, I'll answer honestly."
She nodded her agreement. "Okay, same for me." Tucking her hands beneath her legs, she rocked back and forth. Elizabeth was nervous. There had been a question tumbling around in her head since Henry said he liked her, but she wasn't sure she would have the nerve to ask.
Henry observed her struggle and when she didn't volunteer, he asked, "Is there something you want to ask me?"
Elizabeth froze leaning forward and finally pushed the words out, "Have you been with a lot of girls?"
Henry arched an eyebrow. That wasn't something he'd thought she would ask, at least not now. "Well, that depends how you define 'been with." I've dated several women. Maybe as many as a couple dozen. Most of them, I only dated once or twice. I've had two longer lasting relationships, and I slept with both of them. Is that what you want to know?"
"Yeah." She exhaled loudly. "That's it." She went back to rocking.
Henry waited for a few minutes before curiosity got the better of him. "Is there a reason you wanted to know?"
Even in the shadows of late afternoon, he could see the pink rise in her cheeks, and something about it was endearing. "I had a boyfriend in high school, before everything changed. We almost went all the way, but then it ended abruptly. I always just sort of blamed that on the situation, but what if the problem was me? What if I'm not…" Elizabeth struggled to find the words to really convey what she meant. She gave up. "What if I'm not the person someone wants to be with?" She turned away from him.
"I doubt that will be the case," he said, off handedly, and she whipped her head back toward him, obviously a little hurt.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be dismissive. I just think you are worrying unnecessarily. But," she could hear the anticipation infused in his words. "Does that mean you are thinking about it, about us?"
"Maybe." She gave him a shy smile. She wasn't quite ready to divulge that she had been having dreams of the two of them.
"What happened to him, the boyfriend?" Henry asked.
"I wouldn't know. When my parents died, he came to the funeral with his parents, but after my accident he never came around again and one of my friends told me that he was dating someone else. She listened to the bubbling of the water in the spring. "I sort of thought that I meant more to him than that, but I guess not."
"I'm sorry. Sounds like he was young and immature. That's a jerky thing to do."
"Well, I can see it from his point of view. I was a basketcase, having just lost my parents. That was a lot. Then I was blind." Elizabeth shook her head slightly. "I get it. I am a burden. I require more planning, and attention and just thought in general. It doesn't make for the best girlfriend type. I'd sort of resigned myself to being alone. Then…nevermind," she stopped. She didn't want to put Henry on the spot.
"You aren't a burden and he was dumb." He moved to rest his hand on her knee. "Do you think that someday we may get to that level?
"Level?"
"Boyfriend/girlfriend and all that entails?"
"Like what?" she asked, a smile playing at the corner of her mouth.
"Being close… physically."
"Oh. Maybe someday." Elizabeth tipped her head back, making her lips inches from his.
Henry wanted to lean down and capture those lips in a tender kiss, but he wanted her to be in charge of what they did and when. He could be patient. Instead, he pulled her hand to his mouth and kissed her palm before placing her hand on his cheek. "Whenever you want," he whispered.
She turned to him and pressed her other hand to his cheek. He expected her to pull him down in a kiss, but she shifted and her fingers floated over the contours of his cheekbones, over his nose, his mouth, his eyes. "What color are your eyes?"
"Brown," he answered.
"Hmm, like caramel or chocolate?" she inquired further.
"Chocolate. They're dark brown."
She hummed, "That's nice."
"You're handsome," she murmured.
"And you're beautiful,' he answered. Nervousness coursed through her veins. She desperately wanted to feel his lips against hers, but at the same time, the ache in her heart held her in place. She rested her head in the crook of his neck.
"I can't yet."
"Then I'll wait," Henry murmured. They stayed that way for a long moment. "We should go," he said, handing her her shoes and socks. When she was ready, he stood and helped pull her up. Looking around one last time, he pulled Elizabeth into a hug. "Thank you for bringing me here."
— ∞ —
"I need a dress," Elizabeth said.
"A dress? You hate dresses," Joan replied somewhat dismissively, her attention focused on the stack of papers she was sorting through.
"I know I typically don't wear dresses, but I want one," Elizabeth restated.
Joan looked up. "You hate dresses. You hate shopping, but suddenly you need one. Is it for a presentation or something?"
Elizabeth dropped her head. "I have a date tomorrow night," she said, suddenly bashful, the flush rising in her cheeks.
At that, Joan leaned back in her chair and smiled. She hoped she knew who the date might be. She'd seen Henry nearly every Sunday morning at Mass, but he left quickly and they never spoke. So now, Joan didn't ask, and Elizabeth certainly didn't offer to share. Instead, Joan pushed away from the desk. "Oh, well, in that case, I think we need to go shopping!"
Elizabeth spent the afternoon in the fitting rooms of several downtown boutiques. Most were too perfumey and made her stomach feel queasy. There had been about 30 dresses, many of which Elizabeth knew before the zipper made it all the way up that they would be a no, but she tried to be positive. She desperately wanted to find just the right dress for her date with Henry. He'd agreed that they could have a quiet night at his place, but still, she wanted to make it special. She wanted to make the extra effort for him. But, after eight stores and only one dress that even the salesclerk didn't seem sold on, Elizabeth was ready to give up. "I can just wear my denim skirt and get a new top instead. That would work," she offered, but even she heard the defeat in her own voice.
"Just one more," the sales woman said from outside the dressing room door. "I know you said blue or black, but I think you'd look very nice in this one. The doorknob turned and the rustle of plastic indicated that she had slid the dress through the crack.
"Thank you," Elizabeth said as she turned to hold it up to Joan who gasped.
"What's wrong with it?" Elizabeth asked.
"Nothing. It's beautiful. It's just very red," Joan explained.
"Red is a stand out color. I don't want to stand out." Elizabeth shook her head as she started to feel for the hook on the back of the door. "I'll just wear what I have."
"Try it on. If it looks like too much, you know I'll tell you." Joan stood from the small bistro style chair that was parked in the corner of the dressing room. Joan placed her hand on Elizabeth's shoulder. "You're going on a date, and I know you want it to be special or you never would've asked in the first place. Maybe it's time that you do stand out." Elizabeth hesitated and Joan drew closer, pulling the plastic bag up and off of the dress. "Just try it."
Joan tugged the tab of the zipper and the sound that filled the room sent Elizabeth's thoughts to a dream she'd had the night before, when Henry did the same thing and her dress went billowing to the floor. She turned bright red and quickly turned away from Joan, wishing that she had worn her hair down so that it would cover her face.
Elizabeth took the dress, felt for the opening and stepped into it. It was fitted, much more so than the clothing she usually wore. The dress hit her just above the knee, and was fitted through the hips and bodice. "You need to slide your arms through these holes. They aren't exactly sleeves. It's off the shoulder."
Elizabeth cringed. That was much more skin than she was accustomed to showing. But, she dutifully slipped her arms in and let Joan pull the zipper up. The stretchy fabric wrapped around her body, but it wasn't too clingy. It fit close, but didn't restrict her movements, making her uncomfortable. A wide band of fabric folded down to layer across the chest and around the arms and across the back. She felt comfortable in it, but it was still red, and she didn't like the color red.
Turning, she asked, "How does it look?" When Joan didn't immediately respond, Elizabeth sighed and turned back around. "Alright, back to the denim skirt plan."
"No," Joan said, firmly. "We're buying this one because you look beautiful."
Elizabeth ended up calling Henry to ask if he would mind picking her up from Joan's house for their date, because once Joan saw Elizabeth in the dress, the whole shopping trip took on a life of its own.
"Lizzie, you know it wouldn't hurt you to enjoy this just a little bit. Or pretend to enjoy it for me," Joan said, as she bit into her bagel the next morning. She wiped the smudge of cream cheese from her upper lip. "You didn't get to do this at all in high school."
"We didn't have formal events or get dressed up."
"Exactly. Every woman needs to be pampered every once in a while," Joan said, as she poked the last bite of bagel in her mouth. She studied Elizabeth, weighing the consequences of her words. "I know your mom isn't here to see it, but if she were, she'd be trying to give you the same experiences. You've missed out on a lot because she's gone. I'm just trying to give you a few of those things back."
Elizabeth's expression didn't change other than the slight twitch in her lips and the slight drop of her head. "Yeah," she murmured, and then she left the table.
Joan sighed. Elizabeth was completely functional yet she still shut down at almost any mention of her parents. She wondered how a serious relationship would go if Elizabeth refused to acknowledge her past.
When Joan went to get Elizabeth a few minutes later, she sat at the end of the bed with her eyes closed. As soon as the door opened, Elizabeth stood, forced a small smile and said, "Are we ready for an adventure?"
"Nails, hair and makeup? Isn't that overkill, Joan?" Elizabeth asked as they pulled to a stop in front of the salon.
"Nope, definitely not overkill. This is probably my only chance besides your wedding day to do this. Let an old woman have some joy, will ya?" Joan joked.
"I doubt there will ever be a wedding day, so I suppose I can give you today." Elizabeth smiled. It was small and carried a note of sadness with it, but it was more genuine than she usually got, so Joan accepted it gratefully.
They spent the day being pampered and, other than her discomfort at being in so many new places, they were small and Elizabeth did enjoy herself. She couldn't remember the last time she wore a full face of makeup, probably one of her last dates with Jimmy. At some point, she remembered finding her makeup and tossing it all because she knew she couldn't see well enough to put it on herself. She remembered that day with a pang of hurt. At school in Arkansas, some of the girls wore lip gloss,, but Elizabeth worried that she would mess it up and look foolish, so she never tried.
"Hair up or down?' the hairdresser asked.
"Down," Joan answered before Elizabeth could open her mouth. "Trust me, dear. Your dress needs your hair down. Besides, you always wear it pulled back. Has your man even seen you with your hair down."
"He's not my man. And, it's harder to manage when it's down," Elizabeth replied.
"So, that would be a no," Joan said, a slight tease in her tone. Elizabeth shrugged.
"If it makes her happy, leave it down. This day is all about Joan anyway." Elizabeth reached out and gave Joan a little shove and Joan laughed.
They arrived back at the house, just before 5 and Elizabeth had asked Henry to pick her up at 5:30. She was starting to get agitated, but Joan simply said, "All you have to do is step into the dress. If you have too much free time, you'll get all weird on me."
"I am weird, Aunt Joan. I've always been weird." Elizabeth grinned and it was real. Joan teared up, but quickly wiped the tears away before they could actually fall and hoped Elizabeth didn't catch on.
Joan helped Elizabeth get the dress on and it wasn't until she was ready to go into the living room that she stopped. "Oh shit!"
"What?" Joan asked.
"Shoes! I didn't get shoes! My other ones aren't nice enough." Elizabeth sighed. She was so close on this one, but just didn't quite pull it off.
"Hold on. I think I may have just the thing," Joan said. She disappeared into her bedroom and returned quickly.
"It's a good thing for you that I remembered shoes. Here." Joan thrust the box into Elizabeth's hands.
Elizabeth's stomach turned. She hadn't put on dress shoes for a number of years. She only wore ballet slippers because the sole was so thin that it helped her feel the changes in the sidewalks or ground where she was walking. Hard soled shoes didn't allow her to be as close to the ground. But, she would be with Henry. He did an excellent job on their hike to the stream. It would be just fine.
Carefully, she opened the box. Her fingers brushed against the patent leather of the shoes. A rhinestone rectangle adorned the toe and picking them up, she realized they were just like her everyday shoes, only a dressier version.
"Black patent leather. They're shiny with rhinestones," Joan pointed out. "They are just like your others. They should fit."
Elizabeth backed up until her legs hit the mattress and she sat down. She slipped the shoes on. "They're perfect," she said, "Thank you. Do you think they go with the dress?"
"They are perfect. You're missing one other thing, but I thought of it too." Joan took Elizabeth's hand and pulled her up. "You need jewelry." Sweeping Elizabeth's hair to the side, Joan reached around and clasped the necklace at the back of Elizabeth's neck. "Your mother's diamond pendant, and," she stopped and reached over for something on the bed. "And a matching black patent clutch." Joan stepped away and surveyed the girl. "Now you're ready."
Elizabeth ran her fingers over the pendant, remembering how her mother used to wear it for only the most special occasions: anniversaries, holiday gatherings, special date nights with her father. Emotion welled up inside her and she wanted to cry and she probably would have if Joan hadn't interrupted her thoughts.
"Now is the time to have some fun. He should be here shortly I think." Elizabeth nodded and made her way into the living room to wait.
"Oh my God, Lizzie!" Will exclaimed, rolling to a sitting position instead of laying on the couch. "When did you get to be pretty?"
Elizabeth blushed. It was sort of a backhanded compliment, but any type of kind word from Will was to be taken at face value.
"You look like Mom," he said. Elizabeth felt like she'd been kicked in the stomach. The color drained from her face and Will immediately realized what he had said. "You're very pretty, all dressed up, Lizzie," he corrected, and Elizabeth tried to regain her bearings.
Then there was a knock at the door and Elizabeth took a step toward it, but Joan stopped her. "I'll get it. You wait here." Joan rounded the corner and flipped the deadbolt before turning the knob. She opened the door to reveal Henry waiting nervously.
"Hi, Mrs. Bryan," Henry said. "Elizabeth said I should pick her up here."
Joan smiled. She certainly was happy that Elizabeth had chosen to continue seeing Henry after their somewhat rocky start. "I insisted we have a girls' day. Thank you for accommodating me."
She stepped back and allowed Henry to step inside. "It's really no problem. I am" and then Henry saw Elizabeth, and time stopped. There was no outside noise, no movement, nothing except the pounding of his heart in his ears. She wore a tentative smile. He'd never seen her hair worn any way other than a low ponytail at the base of her neck and she primarily wore jeans with t-shirts and sweatshirts that were a size too big. The black plastic rimmed glasses she wore were for effect only, but he'd never seen her without them. He had always considered her pretty just as she was, but this was almost a whole different person.
When he didn't speak, Elizabeth's nervousness skyrocketed. What if he didn't like the fancier version of her? What if he felt put on the spot because she didn't tell him that she was getting all dressed up? What if he was embarrassed to pick her up in his jeans and button down? Her smile faltered and Henry immediately noticed. He took 3 long strides across the room to stand in front of her. He leaned in as he wrapped his hands around her wrists, his breath bristling the invisible blonde hairs on her neck and exposed shoulder. "You are the most beautiful woman in the world," he whispered, softly, before moving just enough to kiss her cheek.
"Okay kids, you're going to have to indulge the crazy aunt. I need pictures," Joan said, picking up the camera from where it lay on the mantle.
"Are you kidding, Joan?" Elizabeth asked, quickly stepping away from Henry, hoping that her embarrassment at his words wasn't too noticeable.
"Oh, no, she's not. You should've seen how she tormented me and my prom date last spring. It's totally why I'm not going to Homecoming," Will said.
"Oh? It's not because all three girls you asked turned you down?" Elizabeth teased.
Will feigned disgust. "Well, now. That was just uncalled for."
Henry stepped back and chuckled. "That's really the big sister's M.O. They all do it. I'm Henry McCord." Henry offered a hand to Will, who shook it.
"Will Adams. I specialize in annoying my sister. So, what's wrong with you?" He surveyed Henry. "Serial killer? Mentally unstable? Idiot? You've got to have some issues if you're dating her."
Elizabeth looked put out, but Henry laughed. "Ouch. He's good, Babe. You've got to admit that."
"I'll admit to nothing. Let's get these pictures done so we can get out of here," Elizabeth said. Henry slipped his hand around Elizabeth's and led her in front of the fireplace where Joan snapped several pictures.
"Thank you, kids. Have a good time tonight. Are you coming back here, Lizzie?" Joan asked, handing Elizabeth the clutch.
Elizabeth shook her head. "No, I'll probably just have Henry take me back to the dorm. I'll call you tomorrow afternoon though." Joan nodded and after saying their goodbyes, Henry walked Elizabeth to his truck.
It was a short distance to his apartment and they talked mostly about Joan and how ridiculous Elzabeth thought she was about the whole thing. When they pulled into the parking space, Henry turned to Elizabeth and placed his hand on her arm.
"I just want you to know that I think you're beautiful every single day, but tonight you are the vision that comes to me in my dreams." He didn't give her a chance to respond before climbing out of the car and walking around to open the door.
Taking her hand, Henry led her up the sidewalk to his apartment. "I've changed some things inside, so I'll have to take you to the kitchen, alright?"
"Sure. No problem. What did you move?" she asked, still somewhat reeling from his proclamation moments ago.
"I just moved the couch back to give some more floor space. It's just a little narrow between the back of the couch and the bookshelf," Henry explained.
She leaned up against the counter and listened as he finished preparing dinner. "What are you cutting up?" Elizabeth asked, as the knife hit the cutting board for the sixth time in a row.
"I'm slicing some carrot coins and radishes for our salads,' Henry explained.
"But there's pasta, too. I smell the garlic from the cream sauce," Elizabeth said.
"Yes, and chicken fettuccine alfredo. Because you are a carboholic," Henry said, laughing, which caused Elizabeth to giggle.
"Maybe. There's worse things to be, you know."
Instead of sitting opposite Elizabeth, Henry pulled his chair up next to her. They talked about how their classes were going and upcoming final tests and papers they had. They ate and talked and he poured her a glass of wine when her water was empty, and when they were finished and the plates were stacked in the sink, Henry led Elizabeth to the living room.
"Stay right there," he said, stepping away.
Elizabeth let her hand drop to her side, "What are you doing?" she asked.
Then she heard the click and the 33 drop onto the turntable, the arm sliding over and the slight scratch as the needle made contact with the album. Seconds later, notes of the saxophone filled the room, and Henry was back at her side. "Dance with me," he said.
Elizabeth laughed nervously. "I can't dance."
Henry turned to face her, and took her hands. He placed Elizabeth's left hand on his shoulder, slipping his right hand around her waist, he stepped in close. Elizabeth's right hand remained encased in Henry's left hand. "Neither can I, but I want to dance with you." As Henry closed the gap, Elizabeth brought their hands up and rested her head against Henry's shoulder. They swayed together.
After the first song, the fast thump-thump, thump-thump of Henry's heartbeat drowned out the dulcet notes of Kenny G.
"You're nervous," she murmured, tipping her head back to speak to him.
The blue of her eyes caught the soft light from the lamp across the room and they sparkled. He wished they held some hint of how she felt about him. "I am," he admitted.
"You're worried that I'll step on your feet?" she asked.
"No." He pressed his lips to her temple and smiled.
"You think that I have a thing against saxophones?" she offered. He shook his head, laughing lightly. "Then what?"
"I'm nervous because there's something that I've been wanting to share, and I've been putting it off," he said softly.
"You said that we would talk it out when we have something on our minds," Elizabeth responded.
Henry nodded, his jaw resting against her temple. "I did. I guess I've just been worried about how you might react to what I want to tell you."
"Oh," Elizabeth said, and suddenly stepped back, putting some room between them. Her mind raced. She couldn't pinpoint anything specific that Henry might say, but each thought she had was worse than the next. "Go ahead. I'm sure it's fine," she lied. She bit the inside of her cheek and struggled to keep a straight face and regulate her breathing.
"Come," Henry said, as he took her hand. "The couch is three steps to your right." Elizabeth took the three steps and felt the upholstered ruffle brush the top of her foot. She bent to sit down. Henry sat close. He turned in to face her, his knee touching hers.
"I've been thinking a lot about us," he started.
Elizabeth swallowed hard, her mind reeling with every negative thought she'd had since they had started spending time together. Here it is. Here's where he tells me that it's time he moves on. He found someone else that he likes better. Someone that he doesn't have to constantly watch over. Someone that can see. Her pasta turned into a rock that weighed heavy in her stomach and she swallowed again.
"Elizabeth? Are you listening?" Henry asked, when he waited a moment and she didn't react at all.
She looked up, suddenly back with him. "I— I'm sorry. I was just thinking about all of the things that you could be saying. I didn't actually listen to what you said." Elizabeth wore an embarrassed expression.
Henry's eyes fell to her lips. He lowered his head and hovered there, his lips just above hers. It wouldn't take much. He wanted to feel her warmth, taste her, devour her. "I love you," he whispered.
"Henry, I," Elizabeth pulled away. She didn't know what to say or how to comprehend what he'd just said. She needed to tell him that he could find someone else. Someone better. Someone that didn't come with all of the baggage that she did. Someone who deserved his love. But even though she knew she should say all of that, she felt the intensity of his gaze. Elizabeth knew how serious he was. He'd thought about this moment long before he had said anything, and the gravity of that knowledge pressed in on her. Henry wasn't the kind of person to say something he didn't mean. He would never toss those words around carelessly.
She struggled to put her thoughts into words she thought he might understand. "It's been a long time since I ever thought a relationship was something that I'd have, or that I even should even dare to think I deserve to have." Henry leaned in a fraction and she knew he was going to argue, so she pressed her hand to his chest to hold him at a distance. "I don't know that I can ever love you like you deserve to be loved. You should have someone who can love you fully and I don't know that I can give you my heart. Not like that. I'm afraid that there will always be a part of me that's too scared to love you with everything I have. I know how much it hurts too much when it gets ripped away."
Henry squeezed her knee and leaned close, catching the corner of her mouth in a chaste kiss. "Then I'll wait," he said.
The pain in her chest was nearly unbearable. Scenes from her life flashed in her mind: sitting on the fence with Joan taking their family picture, standing in the doorway with the officer lingering on the porch as Jimmy sped down the driveway, peering into her parents' caskets as the world around her grew dimmer. She held her breath, willing the tears to stay at bay. "Please don't. I don't want you to wait around for something that I may never be able to give you. You might miss your opportunity to find love," Elizabeth said, her voice pleading.
"It's a chance I'm willing to take, and, as long as you aren't pushing me away, that's my choice to make."
The rational part of Elizabeth wanted to tell him to take her home, that she no longer wanted to be around him. He needed to move on. But she couldn't form those words when her heart needed him. He was her best friend. She felt so much lighter, so much happier, when he was around. And, although she knew what was best, and she knew how it needed to play out, Elizabeth couldn't help but to hope that something would shift within her and allow her to freely love Henry.