He Waits for Me

The Embarrassment (chapter 2)

As I put the finishing touches on her dress I knew that she would have a magical night. I sighed wistfully. I always envied her this. I didn't date boys. I could have if I wanted, but there was really only one man I wanted to date and he had never once mentioned taking me on a date.

" Oh no, does it look terrible?" Whitney began turning frantically to the mirror. Naturally, she quieted once she saw her self. I watched silently as her eyes grew into little saucers. I walked up closer to her and nudged her shoulder.

" When have I ever made you look anything short of stunning huh?"

She smiled back at me as I turned to grab my purse.

"I've got to go and get started on my homework. Mr Lowell wants us to read 'Atonement' this weekend and I haven't even started it."

I hugged my friend tightly and asked her to call me when she was back home. This was our usual procedure, and I knew she wouldn't forget to call me. She never did. She was always so wound up and excited that getting her off of the phone was the hard part. I left her room and called out a goodbye to her mother. I couldn't see her, but I knew she was somewhere close by. She was a very loving and devoted mother much like my own.

"Marabel, wait just a second!" She called as I heard her scurrying toward me. "Would you and your mother join us for dinner tomorrow? I know your father is still overseas and I haven't seen much of her. I'd love the chance to catch up."

I nodded. " I'm sure she'd love it. I guess we'll see you tomorrow."

As soon as I shut their door I wished that I had asked her mother to drive me home. It was dark out and getting colder. I lived not far from Whitney's, but I still hated to walk home in the dark. I pulled my jacket closer to me and began walking. At least the moon was out so I could see where I was walking. The closer I got to my house though, the less the moon helped me to see. The tree line was just too dense for the light to shine through. I picked up my pace, anxious to be at home. Out of my peripheral vision I caught a glimpse of a darker shadow. I wasn't afraid. I knew Pierre was walking beside me. He didn't speak. He barely ever spoke. He just walked easily beside me as if he had been there the whole time. I didn't say anything either. I was glad for his company to be sure, but after so many years, I knew that he was a man of very few words. And most of the time, I didn't know exactly what to say to him. It wasn't awkward though. Quite the opposite. I felt so much more at ease with him beside me. I always wondered where he came from. How he knew where to find me. But I never asked him. Part of me knew that things weren't simply explained with Pierre. And so we walked in silence. I turned a couple of times to look over at him and he would smile with his head still facing forward. Occasionally the moon's glow would reflect on his skin and it gave him an eerily beautiful glow. I wanted so bad to reach out and stop his walking so that I could simply look at him. I'm not sure why I didn't. I don't think he would have minded, but I couldn't convince myself to break our silent walk. Soon I could see the porch light on my house. I turned determined to speak to him and to thank him for walking me home, but he was gone again. I sighed and turned back toward my house. He never stayed long enough. Once I stepped inside, my mood lightened considerably. My mother was dancing around the kitchen cooking again. Her shimmering honey colored hair gently waving with her as she moved her body. She was so graceful. I smiled at her. She was completely oblivious that I was behind her. I treasured the moments when I caught her by surprise. I watched for a moment, until she started to wiggle her hips side to side. I couldn't contain the giggle that escaped my lips. She froze when she heard it and turned slowly to glare at me.

"You scared me!" she accused.

"Sorry Mom. What are you cooking?"

" Spaghetti." She responded simply turning back toward the stove top. I came up beside her and began to help. I was nowhere near as good a cook as she was so whenever I could I tried to soak up as much time as I could with her in the kitchen. So many memories in this room. My mother loved to be cooking and I remember having nearly every mother to daughter heart to heart in here. I sighed at the memories.