Beautiful in My Eyes

BOOK: Beautiful in My Eyes
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Beautiful In My Eyes

 

J. Adams

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Copyright
©
2012 J. Adams

All Rights Reserved

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

To Tami T.

one
of my many kindred spirits.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Believe me, if all those endearing young charms,

Which I gaze on so fondly today,

Were to change by tomorrow and fleet in my arms,

Like fairy wings fading away

Thou wouldst still be adored, as this moment thou art,

Let thy loveliness fade as it will;

And around the dear ruin each wish of my heart

Would entwine
itself
verdantly still.

 

It is not while beauty and youth are
thine
own,

And thy cheeks unprofaned by a tear,

That the fervor and faith of a soul can be known,

To which time will but make thee
more dear
.

No, the heart that has truly loved never forgets,

But as truly loves on to the close:

As the sunflower turns on her god when he sets

The same look which she turned when he rose.

 

Thomas Moore

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Charlotte, North Carolina

M
ama, I don't know how to do this anymore. It's just too hard. It's hard on me, and on him most of all.

Having slept curled up in a comfortable recliner in my father's bedroom, I awaken at the sound of his alarm. I watch him where he lay, staring at the ceiling, willing himself to get up.

It is the same every year. He turns over and gently places his hand on the empty pillow, a single tear slipping across the bridge of his nose.

To the rest of the world, this day is the same as any other, but for Dad, this day is still one of great pain and sadness. It marks the three-year anniversary of my mother’s death. Emotionally, Dad has good and bad days, but their
wedding anniversary is usually the hardest. So while my husband takes care of our little boy, I come over to be here for Dad. I still miss Mama more than I can say, but she had been my father's whole world.

Grabbing the pillow, he clutches it tightly to his chest as the first sob rolls forth and I go to him.

“Oh, Giselle, I miss her so much.”

“I know, Dad,” I whisper, wrapping my arms around him and rocking him gently. “I know you do.”

“I thought it would be easier by now, but it’s not. She was my whole life.”

“And you were hers,” I whisper, emotion lodged in my throat. “She loved you so much, Dad.”

He lets me hold him for a few minutes, soaking in my comfort like a lost child. Finally drawing back a little, he nods and wipes his eyes, fresh tears quickly marking new tracks down his face.

“She wants you to be happy. I know she does.”

“I know.” Heaving a deep sigh, he smiles sadly. “I believe that, too. She was, and still is one of the most selfless people I have ever known. And you take after her.”

“I don't know if I can ever reach her level.”

“You already have.” He presses a kiss to my forehead and holds me close another moment. “I will be all right,
honey.” He releases me, his smile brightening. “Thank you for being here for me. And thank Julian for sacrificing you yet again.”

“I will.” I press a hand to his stubbly, handsome face and brush the
lightly-graying
blond hair from his forehead. “I will always be here for you, Dad. I promise.”

“Yes, I know. God gave us a wonderful gift when He
sent
you to us.
Our little miracle.
Though not so little anymore.”

“Well, no matter how old I get, I will always be your little girl.”

“I know. And I really will be all right, starting right now. I will make it through this. Thank you for being so strong for me.”

“Me? Sometimes I don't feel strong. Sometimes I feel far from it.”

“You are made of tough stuff, Giselle. After all, you are Jack and Janice Mason's
stunningly-beautiful
daughter. Our blood runs through your veins. There is no trial you can't handle.”

Beautiful.
I close my eyes as he kisses my brow.
Oh, Dad, if you only knew. I don't feel
stunningly-beautiful
. Not even beautiful. The small bit of vanity I once possessed has been blown away like the flame of a candle in the wind.

“Thank you, Dad.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 1

Beauty is truth, truth beauty -- that is all ye know on earth, and all ye need to know.

John Keats

Two months later

S
tanding just inside the patio door, I watch Dad kneel on the grass and hold his arms out to his grandson.

“Come on, Aidan! Walk to
Grampa
! Come on, you can do it!”

Little Aidan takes step after tiny step until he makes it to Dad’s arms. “Good job, buddy! Good job!”

I smile as I continue watching two of the three most important men in my life. And a moment later I am wrapped in warmth as the third's arms slip around my waist. I lean back and snuggle against him, relishing his familiar comforting embrace. “You’re home early.”

“Aye,” Julian replies, kissing my cheek. “Steve
didnae
need as much help with the inventory as I thought. We got
everythin
' don' quickly. An' I postponed the
readin
'
til
next week.”

I nuzzle my face against his cheek before turning in his arms. “Well, I'm glad you're here, and the young mothers that religiously bring their kids in for story time will just have to wait a little longer to see my Scottish knight in a kilt. You should remind them to bring bibs. Wouldn't want them drooling all over the place.”

“Aye, a couple o them tried ta follow me home an' I had ta maneuver a bit ta lose them.” He smiles, tightening his embrace. “Good thin' we're acquainted with half the cops in the area or I would be
gettin
' regular
speedin
' tickets because I'm always in such a hurry ta get home ta ye.”

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