Chapter 12: Mr. Bear
Hermia had her textbook propped against a napkin dispenser, a ball point pen in her right hand, a plastic fork in her left. Under her right elbow was a pad of paper where she jotted down facts and figures she found relevant in precise, orderly columns. The plate of food in front of her was only half eaten. She had become so fascinated with the text that the food had long since gone cold.
Without missing a step she set down her fork and picked up her glass of cooled pineapple juice. When she took a heavy pull from the straw her moth was filled with a rush of pineapple flavored water. Hermione started with surprise as she looked down at her cup. The juice was gone and the ice had melted away, mixing with what little juice there had been left.
"Pineapple, right?"
Hermia started when the server stopped at her side. She glanced up at the man and found a pleasant round complete with a dash of freckles, dark grey eyes, thin top lip and full bottom and a mass of neat copper hair parted on the right side of his head and pulled over.
"Sorry," she shook her head when she realized she had been staring. "what did you say?"
"Pineapple juice." He held up a fresh glass. "That's what you were drinking, right?"
"Right." Hermia accepted the glass he offered while handing him the empty one. "Thank you."
"So," he sidled a little closer. "Nursing school, aye?"
"How did you…" she followed his nod with her eyes and saw the building the nursing school was housed in on the other side of the usually deserted street.
"I've seen you come and go a few times."
"You've been watching me?" she set her cup down and leaned back in her seat, tilting her head boldly to the side.
"No, just observing the comings and going of the people who might someday save my life."
"You're a horrible liar." She said with mirth in her voice when he had finished.
The red haired man chuckled. "So my sister has been telling me since I was five years old." He held out his hand. "William Allen."
She took the proffered hand. "Hermia Doe."
"Hermia?" his eyes arched with interest. "You must have very interesting parents."
"What do you mean?"
"My parents were so boring with names. William, and my sister's name is Mary. William and Mary. Dull. But your name. Hermia. It has such life and pizzazz."
"Pizzazz?" She chuckled merrily. "Nate would love you."
"Your boyfriend?"
"Me roommate."
"Any chance something might start up between you two?"
"No!" She burst out with a laugh. "Definitely not."
"Excellent" he took the seat across from her. "Any chance something might start up between you and me?"
Hermia stared at him a moment in consideration, but she felt the same twinge in her stomach. "No. I don't think so." She said softly.
"Is there another bloke?"
Not knowing how to answer the question truthfully with him not thinking she was a total nutcase she listed her other reasons. "No, there's two baby girls, no memory and nursing school. There's no room in my life right now for more complications."
"Wait," his brain kicked into motion and within seconds he had made the connection. "Hermia Doe. I read about you in the newspaper a while back."
"How flattering."
"You're the Jane Doe they had over in Little…"
"Yes," she cut him off. "That was me."
William's eyes gave her the good once over. "You've come along very well."
"Thank you for your approval." Hermia reached forward, took up her book and closed it with a snap before stuffing it and her notepad into her satchel. "Could I possibly get a container for this and my bill please?"
"I'm sorry. I'm prying."
"Yes you are." Hermia pulled out her wallet from inside the bag. "But I also have to get home. My roommate starts her shift in an hour."
"I thought you said your roommates name was Nate?"
"It is."
"I take back what I said earlier. She's got the most interesting parents I've heard of."
Hermia's mouth dropped open slightly in confusion. "What on earth are you going on about?"
"Nate. I've never heard of a girl called Nate before."
"Neither have I. However, I have met a man named Nathan Shanks, and a woman named Elizabeth Connolly, both of whom I share a house with."
"Oh. A flush of embarrassment crept up his neck. "Don't I feel sheepish?"
"Don't worry about it." She tapped her fingers impatiently on the table. "However, I can't help but wish you were a little more concerned about my bill. And a container for the rest of my meal."
"Allen!" A voice boomed from inside the small café Hermia had decided to try after her last class had gotten out for the day. Plum little woman with thinking hair appeared in the doorframe, waving a heavy wooden spoon in the redhead's direction. "I do not pay you to chat up the customers. I pay you to take orders and to deliver them."
"Sorry, Mrs. Maloney." William bound to his feet. "I'll be right back with your bill." He turned and hurried away forcing Hermia to call to his back.
"Don't forget the container."
Ten minutes later the bill was paid and Hermia was on the bus waiting for it to deliver her safely to her stop. And all the while her mind was on William. She almost felt bad for him. He was cute in that, I know I'm going to fail but I'll keep plugging at it, sort of way. It was unfortunate for him that he had never really had a chance. His attempt was doomed the minute she looked up at him.
For weeks now her dreams had been tormenting her with brief images she couldn't piece together. One night it would be eyes an intense shade of blue, others it would be a long nose sprinkled with freckles, but always the same flaming red hair. She never saw his full face, though every night when she closed her eyes she hoped that perhaps that night might be the night.
She didn't know if it was her mind playing tricks on her, forming images she hoped were the man who had fathered her children, but she couldn't be certain. Judging by the color of her mousy brown hair she knew that her daughters must have gotten their bright red curls from the man who had fathered them, and if her dreams were anything to go by, the blue eyes. It could have been her mind playing games, but she knew in her heart it wasn't. This unidentifiable face that tormented her dreams had to be the father.
She didn't know if she had always been attracted to redheads but she knew that every time a man walked back with fiery locks she stopped and looked, perhaps hoping that one of them would stop, recognize her and sweep her away.
Which was why her heart had soared when she had first looked up and seen William today. His coloring was so similar to the man in her dreams. But then she had seen his grey eyes and knew he couldn't possibly be the one. And then for a short time she had considered, but ultimately rejected any thought of accepting his offer. She knew every time she looked at him she would feel that twinge of guilt in his stomach and it would spoil everything. No, she reached into her satchel and pulled out her text once again, until she stopped feeling the sinking feeling in her stomach she couldn't give blokes like William a second look. It simply wouldn't be fare to them. Or to herself.
Using her fingers Hermia pried open the book to where she had placed her marker and laid it open on her lap. As soon as she had grown use to the bus system she had begun to bring reading material with her for the journey. She now felt that time spent traveling without a book in hand was time wasted.
And then there was that weekend Lizzie, Nate and she had made the trip into London to see a few of the latest plays on the West End, at Nates assistance, and they had used the Tube to maneuver through the city and she had fallen in love. The Tube was even easier to navigate then the bus. Excluding when it was so loud and crowded you couldn't here the person packed in next to you, they had this wonderful voice that came over the system announcing not only what stop they were at but which one was coming next. With that handy voice as an aid she could get lost in her book without any fear of missing her stop, which she was embarrassed to admit she had already done more then once while riding the bus. She couldn't help it, not when the book she was reading was particularly riveting.
Hermia set her book aside at that thought. She wondered if she had always been that way or if this fascination of hers with gaining knowledge came about when she woke up to find her brain empty. It was hard to tell. All she knew was that she couldn't pass up the chance to open the cover and absorb the pages of a good book.
Taking a chance to glance out the window when the bus came to a stop, she was surprised to see the decorated hut that marked her stop." She closed the book with a snap and grabbed her satchel by the strap to bound off the bus before the driver pushed the button to close the door.
"Sorry," she called to the driver when she had to jam her against the door to keep it open long enough to step out. The elderly driver shook his head at her and muttered to himself that looked a great deal like 'irresponsible kid'. Hermia snorted when she stepped onto the curb. She would love to hear what Nate and Lizzie would to someone calling her, of all people, irresponsible.
She tucked her book inside the bad, flipped the strap over her head so that the sack came to rest on her hip, and tossing her hair playfully over her shoulder she strode toward her home.
She came to the walk that lead to her front door and as soon as her feet touched the smooth stones of the walk four little heads appeared over the top of the fence. "Auntie Hermia!" Came a chorus of little voices. She turned to see the smiling faces and little hands that belonged to the children she had grown to love long ago. "Auntie Hermia!" They waved eagerly at her.
"Quiet!" Andrea bellowed over the noise the others were making stopping them short. "I got to tell Hermia something." The young girl turned back to Hermia when she was certain her sisters and brother would remain quiet long enough for her to deliver her message. "Mummy wants to know if you're coming over tomorrow for dinner."
Hermia moved closer to the short fence. "Did your mummy say what time?"
Andrea screwed up her eyes in thought. "I t-hink she said seven."
"Seven?" Hermia made a quick mental check over her schedule for the following day before she smiled at the children. "Andrea, can you bring a message back to your mum for me?"
The young girl nodded her head eagerly. "'Course I can."
"All right," she bowed low so that she was on the same level. "Will you tell her I asked if she could call me later?"
"I can do that." She said eagerly before turning with a whirl and rushing back to her house, her young siblings racing eagerly behind her.
Enchanted by the children's antics she made her way up to the front door and dug for her key ring which she kept in the front pocket of her bag. Her fingers curled around the smooth metal figure and she pulled gently, dislodging her set from the pens, pencils and odd supplies she also stored in that pocket.
She found the appropriate key and turned it in the lock. The door eased open and she called out. "Lizzie! I'm home!"
"She's not here!" Nate's voice called back.
Hermia pulled the strap over her head and hung it on the banister. "Where are you?" she called when Nate didn't appear in the hall.
"Kitchen!"
She should have known. She took a deep breath and savored the smell of spice hanging in the air. Hermia was all right in the kitchen, far better then Lizzie would ever be, but she was limited to following directions. She hadn't near the finesse and skill her friend had. Nate had this amazing ability to take random bits of food that one thought she never be mixed together in the same dish, and make something so delightful you wanted to both devour it and savor it at the same time.
Hermia strode into the kitchen and walked instantly to the stove, leaning over the pot to inhale the sweet sent. "That smells amazing." She praised as she pulled away from the stove. She walked the few steps that separated her and Nate and leaned in close to press a kiss to his cheek. "I thought you were working the full day today."
"That's tomorrow. Remember? That's why Jeannie invited you over for dinner."
"Right." Hermia went to the refrigerator and pulled out the pitcher she liked to filled with water.
"What's on your mind?" Nate set down his knife so that he could turn and give his full attention to his friend.
"What makes you think any thing is on my mind?" She asked as she poured herself a tall glass before returning the pitcher to the refrigerator.
"Let me guess," He pressed his hip against the counter, crossing his arms and legs in front. "You ran into another redhead today."
"How do you do that?" Hermia asked feeling both annoyed and impressed
"Because you always have that exact look in your face when you run into one."
"I don't know what to do, Nate." She set down her glass, unfinished.
"Still having the dreams?"
"Almost every night."
"Well that's good isn't it? Didn't the doctors say that could be a memory trying to work its way out? Or something to that affect?"
"I don't know, maybe." She shook her head before glancing at the clock hanging on the wall. "Do you know what time the girl's went down for their nap?"
"Umm…" Nate glanced at the watch strapped to his wrist. "Hour, hour and a half ago."
As if on cue there was a sound of a small child fussing coming through the monitor sitting in the hall followed by the distinct voice of her eldest daughter calling for her. "Mummy!"
"Duty calls." Nate nodded his head toward the stairs just as Helena's voice joined Hero's.
Hermia steadily climbed the stairs until she reached the top floor where her room was located. She twisted the handles on the twin doors and pushed them open to reveal a comfortable room decorated in charming shades of red and gold. She tossed her keys on her dresser, the gold lion charm she used to keep her keys dangling of the edge.
"Mummy!" The twins cried out with delight at the sight of their mother.
A broad grin spread across Hermia's lips when her eyes came to rest on her little girls. They were the pride and joy of her life. Their infectious laughter and curious eyes were able to brighten her mood even when it was at her bleakest. Lizzie and Nate were great, wonderful in fact, but there was nothing that could compare to holding her daughters lovingly in her arms. She had no regrets where they were concerned. And she never would.
"Hello my darling girls." Hermia clapped her hands as she walked toward her daughter scooping them out of their twin cribs. She nuzzled them under the chin with her nose. "Were you good for your Auntie Lizzie today? Of course you were." She answered for them. "You're my little angles, aren't you?" She pressed her nose close to Helena's head and in haled her sweet baby smell. She was just pulling away when she smelled the conspicuous smell of a nappy that needed changing. Acting on instinct she smelled the bottom of each of her daughters and pulled away with disgust at the sent emanating from Hero.
"Smells like someone needs a change." Hermia placed Hero snuggly on her hip as she bent at the knee to set Helena on the floor. As soon as Hermia straightened to her feet Helena had maneuvered onto her knees and rose shakily to her feet. She toddled to the bookcase across the room where Hermia had placed all the books and toys she had gathered for the girls, as well a few odds and ends for herself.
Hernia placed Hero on the changing table and was halfway through changing the nappy when she heard a grunt of protest from Helena. She turned her head to the side and saw that her daughter was reaching for the top shelf where Hermia had decoratively placed a few of the best looking dolls and stuffed animals.
At a glance she knew what her youngest wanted. Despite the similarity of their reflections Hero and Helena were distinct individuals with personality quirks, likes and dislikes, that already made them easy to identify. Hero loved to snuggle the soft cloth dolls Lizzie had purchased while Helena preferred stuffed animals, most particular a large brown bear affectionately named Mr. Bear, who had downy soft fur, a large red bow tied around his neck and a spot on his plastic nose where Helena had rubbed away the soft velvet with her thumb.
"Just a moment, sweetheart." Hermia called when she heard Helena's squeal of protest. "I'm almost done." she cleaned away the rest of filth on Hero's bottom while Helena continued to cry in protest behind her; convinced her mother wasn't acting fast enough. "Just a minute, Helena." Hermia secured the nappy quickly and was just replacing the decorative pink knickers when the young child let out a squeal of delight.
Lifting Hero back onto her hip Helena turned toward her daughter and the tall bookcase and froze with shock and fright. Helena was standing with arms outstretched to the bear that was floating high above her head, slowly gliding down from the top shelf where the other dolls and bears still sat unmoved from where she had left them. The toy steadily drew closer and when Mr. Bear had come to a stop just in front of Helena's ecstatic face she clasped her arms around his neck and pulled him in to a tight hug.
She turned to her mother with a broad grin on her small face. She held out the bear with delight. "See?" she said brightly, her thumb already finding the worn spot on his nose.
"Yes, sweetheart." Hermia said slowly. "I saw."
