Beautiful in My Eyes (3 page)

A few days later, I am about to get out of the shower when the phone rings. Grabbing a towel, I run to answer it.

“Is this Giselle?”

“Yes, it is.”

“Hey, this is Mark Hayes.”

“Mark! How have you been, guy?”

“I’ve been great. How about you?”

“I’m good,” I answer, excited to hear from our friend. We haven't talked to Mark in about a year, but we think of him often and wish he didn't live so far away. He used to live just down the road from us, but a job change took him back home to Salt Lake City, Utah. I am sure his family has enjoyed having him home again.

“So what have you been up to?” I ask, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Oh, not a whole lot. Just work and finishing up school. That has kept me pretty busy.”

“I’d imagine so. I hope you’re leaving some time on your social calendar.”

Mark laughs. “Actually, someone has been keeping my social calendar pretty filled.”

“I knew it! What’s her name and how did you meet her?”

“Her name is Sara and I met her in one of my classes. She’s a petite brunette with big blue eyes and a dazzling smile.”

“So, how long have you two been dating?”

“Oh, for about six months now, and we’ve been engaged for about three weeks.”

“Really?” I squeal. “That’s awesome, Mark. Congratulations!”

“Thanks.”

“So when is the big day?”

“Well, that’s why I’m calling. We’ve set it for June seventeenth.”

“Wow, six weeks! That’s soon, but hey, you know me. I think when you find the right person, the sooner the better.”

“So do we. I plan to call your dad and ask him about this too, but it would really mean a lot to me if you guys could come out for the wedding. I know that doesn’t give you much time to–”

“Yes!” I cut him off. “We would be honored to come to your wedding.”

“Great! It's
gonna
be so awesome having you guys here.”

“I'm looking forward to it. And you go ahead and call Dad on his cell. He went in to work early this morning and I’m sure he will be excited to hear, too.”

“Okay, I will. My family’s home is large with plenty of room, so you will all have a place to stay. I told them I
planned to invite you and they are looking forward to meeting you guys.”

“Thanks, Mark. That means a lot.”

“Truthfully, Giselle, your names were at the top of my list. You guys have been in my thoughts for quite some time now. But every time I have planned to call you, something has come up.”

“Hey, I can understand that. Don’t worry about it.”

“I’m glad everything is going okay with you. I guess I’ll call Jack and tell him my news.”

“You do that. I know he will be glad to hear from you.”

“I’ll call you back this weekend with more details.”

“Sounds good. Congratulations again, Mark. You take care of yourself.”

“You too, Giselle.”

I smile as I hang up the phone. I love hearing good news, and Mark's upcoming marriage is definitely
cause
to celebrate.

I finish getting dressed. Sitting at the vanity in the bathroom, I run a brush through my damp hair, blinking back the tears as a large clump of hair collects in the bristles. Cleaning the brush is becoming routine, one that is making me more down with each passing day. Before the hair loss started, I had always been pleased with my long,
naturally-
curly
locks and had taken pride in the styling versatility, but each time I pull the brush away and find it full, my sadness increases tenfold. I only hope and pray that it
doesn't
get bad enough for Julian to notice because he loves my hair so much.

By some strange good fortune, I never seem to lose hair when Julian touches it, nor when we are intimate, and I thank the heavens every day for that. I've tried different shampoos, conditioners and other styling products, but nothing has helped or made any amount of difference.

Well, it isn't as bad as some women.
At least not yet.
Rather than dwell on it, I style the curls in an attractive up-do and do my best to change the course of my thoughts to something positive.

With gratitude in my heart, I think on this past week. It has been an amazing one.

Dad took us to his parent’s home a couple of days ago and things went really well. As soon as we stepped through their door, Jim and Donna Mason swept me into a loving embrace and the apprehension I felt quickly faded away. My grandmother and grandfather spent the better part of the evening getting to know us, and they totally fell in love with little Aidan. The memory of the love and acceptance I felt from them brings tears to my eyes even now. It was an
amazing visit and Julian and I are glad to have had the opportunity to get to know them.

And now we are privileged to travel to Utah for Mark's wedding.

Despite my other concern, it has indeed been a good week.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 3

The beauty that addresses itself to the eyes is only the spell of the moment; the eye of the body is not always that of the soul.

George Sand

G
rabbing a couple of potholders, I take the last batch of bread from the oven. I baked eight small loaves, five of which will go to friends. After wrapping one in a new
dish towel
, I quickly head upstairs to change out of my flour-covered shirt, then fix my hair, and stop by the den to let Julian know I am leaving.

“John and I are separating.”

Covering my mouth, I attempt to hide my shock. “I can't believe it! What happened?” I ask, squeezing my friend Libby's hand.

“Truthfully, I don't know. We have been struggling for a while now. And the simple fact is, though I want our marriage to work, John doesn’t. It takes two and I have given it all I've got. I can’t do it alone anymore and I’m tired of trying. I asked John if there is someone else. He says no, but I'm not so sure. I mean, I know my age is starting to show and there are women far more attractive and in better shape, but I do try to take care of myself and look nice for him. I've noticed his eye straying a bit when we are out in public and I have always chosen to ignore it. I pretend I don't see. I've asked John what I can do to make things better and he says nothing can make it better. He thinks divorce is the only option and I’m beyond protesting.” She pauses. “I don’t know how we are going to tell the kids.”

“I'm so sorry, Libby,” I say, putting my arm around her, my heart aching for her. Libby and John have been married for twenty-five years and have raised four children. They have always seemed so happy. It seems they have just been playing their parts well and it has been an illusion. I am sad for them, but this will surely devastate their family. I continue to listen, offering what comfort I can.

“I thought real love was supposed to be unconditional. I mean we've had trials like everyone else and we've somehow made it through them, but . . . this is the most painful thing
I've ever had to deal with. To know he no longer wants me the way I want him just hurts my heart. Why am I not good enough anymore?”

“You are better than good enough. You are an amazing person and you are very beautiful. If he can't see that, then it is his loss.”

Libby gives me a watery smile. “Thank you, Giselle.”

Before I leave, I hug her and again tell her how great she is, and that her value is beyond price. We women tend to forget that most of the time and need to be reminded.

If I could only make myself believe . . .

During my drive home, I contemplate my own marriage. I am blessed to have Julian,
and  I
have always felt nothing could ever come between us. The day we married was the happiest of my life, and I will forever be grateful for the trip I took with some friends to Scotland on my twentieth birthday.
Because it completely changed my life.

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