Highness (10 page)

Chapter 10

After Sean left, beaten and bloody, a triumphant golden sun came out and stayed affixed in the sky with a rainbow arching across the horizon brightening further the playful conversation between Michael, Hope and LouAnn that had gone on for hours. 

Passing cups of flavored coffee and finger foods between them, they all enjoyed each other’s company without the airs of position.  It was a perfect culmination to a completely chaotic afternoon.  But for Hope, it was more.  It was the end of something that had drug on for nearly two months – the lingering stench of a foul relationship.  She was quite happy to be on her own, even if it did mean feeling around the house and knocking things over even more.  It didn’t matter to her if when she got her sight back, everything in her house had been broken, tipped over or ruined; it would still be better than owing Sean Pritchard any favors.   

Knowing that today was her last day; LouAnn went to the kitchen and prepared her famous chicken casserole as a going-away gift while Hope and Michael sat across from her at the kitchen table talking about everything from blood sausage to contemporary artist Andreas Gursky.  Everything was relative, everything exciting. 

Feeling his emotion through his words and his warm, soft hands, Hope held on to his every story, and he held on to hers.  They were, in a word – enraptured.

Michael found the conversation strangely enlightening.  He had never sat at a kitchen table with women like these discussing such simplistic but wonderful things.  To his surprise, LouAnn had quite the personality and was a wealth of knowledge on all things maternal. She reminded him of a living, breathing dummies guide to being a good mother.  However, nothing could top the conversation with Hope. While witty and clever, she was also serious and insightful with a big-picture look on life that he didn’t normally encounter except with Oxford scholars and heads of state.  

For LouAnn, any fear that she had about leaving Hope on her own, quickly dissipated.  She learned through her conversations that the young woman was quite strong and capable of taking care of herself, and on top of that, Michael seemed very eager to help in any areas that she might need assistance.  She giggled under her breath at their growing love connection. 

Serves you right
, she said to herself while thinking of Sean,
you didn’t deserve her anyway.
When she had first been approached by Sean, the story of his relationship with Hope had already been blown out of proportion. 

Sean had painted Hope as a weak and chaotic woman who had ended up in the car accident as a result of a very dramatic and volatile exit from his home of her own making.  He forgot to mention that a woman had been there naked or that he had broken up with her only after Hope found them together right after sex.  He had forgotten to mention that he had been the one to approach Hope with the idea of him helping and not that she had asked him for help, as he was telling everyone.  He had also failed to mention that somewhere in between being a great kid and a dependable young man he had grown up to be such an ass.

But as these things do, the truth had found a way to come to the light. 

At dusk after a delicious home-cooked dinner, as the sun receded back into the shadows of night, LouAnn said her goodbyes, gave hugs and kisses to them both and departed for the last time.

Michael stood with Hope in the doorway while LouAnn pulled out of the drive, and then closed the large door to be left alone, finally.

Hope could feel his strong hands on her shoulders as he guided her back inside. There was a loving touch to his guidance, a sort of caress through his fingertips.   She only prayed that he couldn’t feel the reaction that he was having to her.   After so many hours with him, all the tension of unfamiliarity had vanished, but the sexual tension between them had grown exponentially. 

Michael could feel the dramatic change in the atmosphere.  The house took on a different feel at night.  The tiffany lamps and translucent lights made the house glow with warmness and the smell of freshly cooked foods and sweet candles made him want to cuddle with her. 

Grabbing her hand, he led her back to the sitting room and placed her in a comfortable armchair across from the sofa.

“Well, this has been quite a day,” he said resting beside her. His body ached a little, but he couldn’t take his eyes off of her. She seemed even more beautiful now than when he first met her – now that he knew so much about her, that he had begun to understand her.

“Tell me about it,” she said with a smirk.  Nervously, she fiddled with her fingers. 

Michael felt nervous again.  They were finally alone and he was lost for words.  “Is there anything that I can do for you?  Now that you have to try to do this all alone…” He stumbled over his words and crashed into another confession. “I feel responsible for it, I have to admit.  At the time, it felt right to knock that prick off the steps, but now I feel as though I’ve put you in a more difficult predicament.”

She smiled. “I’m glad that you did.”  Licking her lips, she raised a brow.  “Did he look shocked when you decked him?”

Michael laughed. “Very much.”

“I’m so glad. I wish that I could have done it myself.”  

“I’d be happy to assist you until you get your sight back. I was looking for something to do – something worthy.” He cringed.  This was not coming out right.  What if it sounded like a complete come-on instead of a true offering?  “What I’m saying is that I could come by and sit with you, like LouAnn did…at no cost, of course.”  God, he was bombing this entire proposal. If he didn’t get it together, she might just see him right out of the house.

Hope cut him off.  “I’d like that…all of it.  It is very kind of you to offer, but I wouldn’t want to put you out.  This isn’t your problem.”

He quickly responded.  “It would be no imposition at all. It would be an honor.”  His chest swelled with excitement.  “I’m not a good cook, but I can manage. And I’m not very good with most household duties, but I could surely tend to whatever you needed.” He laughed nervously.  “I want to, Hope.”  His voice was eager. 

Unable to turn him down, she sat back in the chair.  “What would be great is if you could run me a bath.”  The request felt odd but it was needed.  She quickly clarified. “I don’t need you to bathe me or anything…”

“I’ll be happy to,” he said, jumping up.  He rolled his eyes. Another flub.  “What I mean is that I’d be happy to run your bath.” He didn’t say it aloud, but he’d be even happier to do the other as well, but he was sure that such a statement wouldn’t go over well. 

“Okay.  We can start there,” she said, unable to hide her blush.  “But you must allow me to pay you something.  I’m not broke. I have plenty of savings…”

“Neither am I,” he said, walking over to her.  Taking her hand, he knelt before her again. Sure that she could feel the sweat forming in his palm, he kissed her hand gently.  “I’ve never wanted to help a woman more than I’ve wanted to help you.  I think it’s because you are so willing to help yourself, and because after all of our conversation today, I understand.  And…” He paused and slowed his words. “I want to do this.”

She leaned toward him and slowly raised her fingers to feel his cheek. “I wish that I could see your face,” she said, fighting tears.  “You seem so kind.”  Shaking her head, she stilled her rapidly beating heart.  “I’d be happy to have your help as long as you’ll be happy to accept some form of payment for your services.”

“A small fee then,” he said, determined to find a way without her knowing to return it back to her.  “Good, then we’re in agreement.”  He stood up. “Well, I’ll just go and run a bath for you.  Upstairs or downstairs?”

“Downstairs,” she said, standing up as well.

“Where are you going?” he asked, ready to start his job.

“I’m going to get my personal things.” She giggled again. “You know where the bathroom is, right?”

That he did know.  He nodded. “I’ve been a few times today. Yes,” he said, moving out of her way.  “Should I take you to your room?”

“No. I better learn this on my own,” she said, walking right into the coffee table and knocking down a picture of her grandmother. “Shit!” She bent over but Michael was right there to help her.  Picking up the frame, he sighed in relief. 

“Did I break it?” she asked hesitantly.

“No, it’s perfect.” Putting the frame back on the table, he rubbed her back as he helped her stand. “This will take some getting used to, but you’ll do fine. I believe in you.” Just then, his phone went off.  Pulling it from his pocket, he saw that it was his brother, Richard.  He quickly hit ignore.

“Do you need to take that?” she asked.

“No, it’s just my brother. I can call him back. I’m sure he doesn’t want anything.”
Except to get on my nerves
, he thought to himself.

“You have a brother?” she asked intrigued.  They never really got around to talking about siblings.  After all, it had only been a day.  There was so much discussed, but so much still left to talk about.  She was overwhelmed with questions for him, but decided against a true Spanish Inquisition, at least until tomorrow. 

“Yes,” he guided her to the room. “I have an older brother.”

“What is his name?” 

“Dick,” Michael said with a smug grin.

“Is he like you?” she asked.

“No.  He is very much like his name.  Come now. Let me help you to your room.”

While Hope grabbed the hygiene basket that Bree had made for her and used the simple drawer system that she and her friend had devised to find her underwear and night clothes, Michael went into the bathroom and prepared her bath in the refurbished pearl claw tub. 

Lighting candles, he placed them up on the mantle away from any possible fire hazard; he also opened up the many bottles of salts and soaps to make a perfect relaxing mix of tranquil scents to relax her.  When he was done, he set out a large towel and hand towel where she could easily access them and then placed a brand new bar of soap in the gold rack.

“Voila,” he said proudly. He had never done that before, but it had turned out pretty nicely. 

“Are you done?” she asked, standing at the door with a handful of her things. 

He turned to her. “I am,” he said, proud of himself. “It’s all yours.”
So am I
, he thought inwardly. 

She walked into the bathroom and found her way over to the tub.  Dipping her finger in, she smiled. “It’s perfect.  Nice and warm.  I couldn’t have done better myself.”

“Wonderful. Well, I’ll leave you to soak. If you need anything, I’ll be…around.”

“Am I holding you up?” she asked, feeling as though she had used up his entire day. She didn’t want him to leave, but she also didn’t want to hold him up from the rest of his life.

“No.” He felt his phone buzz again but he ignored it. “I don’t mind one bit. You relax here, and I’ll go and grab a glass of that wine that I saw in the kitchen…if you don’t mind.  When you are dressed, we can talk a little more before I take my leave.”

“Please, help yourself,” she said, sitting in the chair Bree had placed in the bathroom for her to get undressed. “When I come out, I think I’d like one as well.”

“I’ll have it ready.”  Michael closed the door behind him and took a deep breath.  She was about to be naked in the tub that he had prepared for her and like a teenager, it made him giddy.  He rather needed that glass of wine to take the edge off. 

Moving toward the kitchen, a little more relaxed, he stopped curiously in the living room and opened up her tall wooden stereo cabinet.  It was full of music from nearly every genre that he could think of – all in alphabetical order - making it nearly impossible to just pick out one thing. She had all the classics: Prince, Michael Jackson, The Isley Brothers, and Al Green. She had B.B. King and Stevie Ray Vaughn. She had Rage Against the Machine and U2. She even had New Edition.  It had to be over 500 CDs, hundreds of bands.  So many options.  So very much like her other eclectic tastes for life. 

Picking out a CD by John Coltrane, he slipped it in the player, turned up the music and meandered into the kitchen where he pulled down the small rack of wines from on top of the stainless steel refrigerator beside a bowl of breads.  It was then that he noticed all the pictures attached to magnets.  There were several pictures of her grandparents and several of a woman who had to have been her mother.  Hope had mentioned that they were all dead now, but she didn’t really explain how.  It must still be too painful to talk about.  But he also couldn’t help but marvel at the pictures of her as a baby, a toddler, a teen and as an adult.  In each, she looked just as beautiful, strong and majestic.

Picking out the perfect bottle of red wine, he surveyed the rest of the tranquil room. He loved the aloe Vera plants, ivy vines and multi-colored teapot roses that she had lined the top of the vintage cabinets in colorful porcelain pots.  It showed how much time she spent nurturing her surroundings down to the very last detail.   There were nearly 50 cookbooks stacked up in decorative little piles around the large kitchen with neon post-it notes peeking out of the pages, indicating that they were not just for show.  Playful little mats with red roosters covered the gray ash ceramic tile floors and rows of spice racks lined the back of the yellow countertop.  Cumin. Mustard.  Peppers and celery.  Salts and sugars.  Cinnamon and Ginger.  Evidently, she loved to cook, loved music, loved to read.  Loved the simple but most enjoyable parts of life. Just being in this room caused a stir of genuine motivation to create something.