Relentless Hope (Resilient Hearts) (8 page)

T
wo days later, I move into David’s house. I am
given
a room on the second floor next to David’s room. I have never been to the second floor of his house, and as I walk up the spiral staircase that leads to the second floor and enter the living area, I am reminded again how beautiful this place really is. Large windows on multiple sides showcase breathtaking views of the infinite pool, tropical landscaping and the ocean below. The living area is complete with a huge TV and entertainment center, even though the first floor already has a theater room and both a formal and an informal living room. Two hallways on each side of the living area lead to multiple rooms. David’s room is at the end of the left hallway and my room is the one next to it.

The room I’ve been given is large and filled with expensive Italian furniture. A four-poster bed faces floor to ceiling glass windows that show off stunning views of the ocean. The en suite bathroom features a large Jacuzzi tub with a window overlooking the ocean, and the walk
in closet is larger than my entire room at my parent’s house. The room is nicer than anything I’ve ever seen, and as I unpack my bags, I have to remind myself that I should enjoy this while I’m here, but should not get used to it.

Since moving into David’s house, I have taken over most of the
responsibility of the day-to-day tasks with David. The nurses are still here. They give him his medicine and help him shower and get in and out of bed, and handle any medical needs he might have, but I try to provide all the personal attention he craves.

Ever since coming back from the hospital he spends most of his time in bed or in a recliner in his room. I often sit next to him, trying to keep him company anyway I can. I read him his newspaper in the mornings and watch TV with him in the afternoons. We chat and play cards, spending the time in easy companionship.

I have also been helping him feed himself. Since his right shoulder is still in a lot of pain, he has to use his left hand to eat, and with his shaky hands, that is not always an easy task.

I watched one of the nurses feed him once and decided to take over after that. The nurses try to do their job, but they do it out of obligation, not affection, and it shows. David needs lots of love and a lot of patience, and the nurses just don’t have that.

When the nurse tried to feed him, she didn’t have patience. She wanted to spoon feed him and be done with it. As I watched David’s face during the whole lunch, I saw how painful that was for him. David is a proud man. In less than a year, he has gone from being a boss to over a thousand employees to not being able to even feed himself. It is hard for him to accept that he is incapable of doing the most basic tasks for himself. The nurse feeding him hurts his self-worth.

After watching that, I took over the task, because I know I can be more patient. Instead of feeding him, I let him do the work himself. I just sit there next to him to help if he drops the fork or spills something. It takes a lot longer for him to eat this way, but at least he doesn’t feel like an invalid.

Today, however, he’s having a really hard time. His hands are trembling more than usual and he has already dropped the fork twice. Instead of watching him struggle, I decide to help. I cover his hand with mine and hold the fork steady in his hand as he lifts it up to his mouth. His eyes meet mine as he swallows the food and he holds my gaze, silently thanking me, but unable to say the words out loud. I nod my head in acknowledgement.

As I sense his embarrassment at his inability to feed himself, I start a light conversation with him about the TV show we watched that morning to take the focus away from his shaking hands. I continue holding his hand this way and talking until I sense someone watching me.

I feel the hair in the back of my neck stand up, and I know instantly who is standing at the doorway. I try to act normal and continue helping David eat, but lean back just a bit so my body is not too close to David’s. This is the second time Aiden has caught me and David in a position that can be interpreted the wrong way and I don’t know how he will react this time. The thought that he will lash out in anger again has my stomach in knots.

I wait until David’s lunch is finished, wondering all along why Aiden hasn’t said a word. After David finishes eating, I turn my head slowly around. He’s leaning against the door frame, a questioning look on his stunningly beautiful face. His dark jeans are riding low on his hips and his black t-shirt showcases his taut muscles. The sight of him takes my breath away and makes my mouth dry.

After a few seconds of being lost in his sparkling emerald eyes, I try to get a hold of myself and say something.

“David – look who’s here,” I start, “you have a visitor … I’ll take the tray downstairs and let you two visit.”

I leave the room quickly, fully expecting Aiden to walk in as soon as I am out, but instead I sense him following me out of the room.

“Aleah – wait.”

“You know my name?” I ask in surprise.

“I know more about you than you think,” he starts, his penetrating gaze fixated on me. “I heard you moved in here, and came by to see how this arrangement was working out.” He hesitates for a few seconds avoiding my eyes, before continuing, “You care about him. I can tell. I don’t get it, and frankly, it’s a little creepy to me, but I was watching you for a while back there, and the way you treat him, it’s hard to question that you care about him… I’m glad he found you. He needs someone that really cares about him right now. He’s a lucky bastard and he doesn’t deserve it, but he does need it. So, thank you for being here for him.”

I gape at him in surprise, not sure if I can believe my ears. I had prepared myself for another rant from him. Not this. This, his kind words leave me speechless. I open and close my mouth a few times, unable to get anything out.

“I totally made you speechless, didn’t I?” he asks, a chuckle escaping his gorgeous mouth. “It’s a personal skill of mine. I have that effect on women.”

No kidding, I think to myself. The sight of him alone is enough to make me speechless, but I am not about to admit that to him or to myself.

“Don’t flatter yourself.” I tease back. “I am just surprised that you weren’t mean to me this time.”

He remains rooted to the floor, waiting for me to say more. I realize I still have not acknowledged what he said about his grandpa. “I do care about your grandpa and I’m glad to be here,” I start, wanting to explain more now that we’re having a friendly conversation.

“I feel indebted to your grandpa. He helped me at a very difficult time in my life. Saved me from a lot of trouble, and I am eternally grateful for that. I‘ve also become close to him while visiting him the past couple of months. I know he’s officially
your
grandpa, but he is like a grandpa to me too. I don’t really have any family and he’s become like family to me.”

He releases a deep sigh, as if he was holding his breath, and a warm smile crosses his face. “I’m really glad you told me that. It makes me more comfortable about you being here.”

I nod. We lock eyes, and the electricity that I feel so often when looking into his sparkling eyes is suddenly in the air again. We stand there staring at each other, both rooted to the floor. Not having anything more to say, yet not wanting to break the connection we just formed. But my nerves finally take over and I force my eyes to look away.

“Can I ask you for a favor please?” I ask hesitatingly.

“It depends. What it is?”

“Can you please ask your family members to come visit him?”

I’m not sure if right now is a good time to ask this, but I know I may not get this opportunity again and David really needs to see his family. As much as I hate to accept it, his time is very limited. He longs to see his kids and grandkids and he doesn’t have much time left for that.

“Are you sure you want my family members showing up here?” Aiden asks.

“Why wouldn’t I?” I ask, puzzled at his question.

“Because–you don’t know my family. They can be mean and downright nasty, and they don’t have a good relationship with Grandpa, but since he’s really sick, I have a feeling they will unleash their fury on you instead of him.”

I think over his assertion for a few seconds. I have no desire to be subjected to a nasty treatment, but if that happens, it wouldn’t be the first time, and I know I will figure out a way to deal with it. David’s need to see his family members supersedes my fear of getting a verbal lashing.

“Yea, I’m sure. I can deal with your family if and when that happens.”

“Okay. If you’re sure. I can’t make any promises that anyone will listen, but I will ask them.”

“Thank you,” I breathe, not sure what else to say. “You should probably go in and see him. I’m sure he’s waiting and wondering where you went.”

He nods his head and waves his hand goodbye before walking back into David’s room and closing the door. I stare at the close door for a few seconds before pivoting down the hallway and trying to calm my racing heart.

Two days later, as I am sitting next to David’s
bed
reading him his newspaper, the sound of click-ing heels down the hallway grabs my attention. I whirl my head around just in time to see a blonde beauty stride inside the room, Aiden following in her footsteps.

At first look, she looks to be in her thirties, with an hourglass figure, porcelain skin, and perfectly styled blonde waves. Her makeup is immaculate, and her outfit reveals expensive designer labels. But when I look more closely, I notice the appearance of fine lines on her hands and around her neck. A second look at her face reveals signs of plastic surgery. She’s definitely older than she looks.

The woman takes a quick look in David’s direction, barely acknowledging him before turning a curious gaze to me, moving her eyes slowly from the tip of my shoes to the top of my head, shamelessly appraising me. After a few seconds, she turns her nose up at me, tilting her head back towards David.

“Hi, Dad. So this is your new girl, huh? What happened to your busty blonde beauties? You must have lost either your touch or your taste,” she sneers.

“Where did you find her? Outside a high school in the ghetto? She looks like she’s sixteen... Is she even legal? And what is she wearing? You should at least buy her some nice clothes, so she doesn’t have to wear these Walmart clothes around your house.”

“Stop, Karen. Don’t talk about Aleah like that!” David exclaims, his face turning red.

“
And
, you’re standing up for her? This one must be a witch or something if she has you wrapped around her fingers like that.”

Her words infuriate me. I want to yell back that if I don’t have fake looks or designer clothes, at least I have a heart, as opposed to her who is coming to see her dying dad for the first time in at least three months and instead of paying any attention to him, is insulting his only friend and caretaker.

But instead of lashing out, I bite my lips down hard to stop myself from speaking out. I’ve always hated conflicts, and I really don’t want this visit to turn into an all-out fight. God only knows if David will ever get to see Karen again and I don’t want this visit to become about me. So before anyone else has a chance to say something, I force my legs up from the chair and quietly leave the room.

I try to hold my head up as I exit, but as soon as I am out, the negative force of everything she said hits me like a hurricane. Tears burn the back of my throat, as my body tenses with smoldering anger. I try to rush to my room before falling apart, but before I’ve taken more than a couple of steps, I feel someone’s hand on my arm. I swirl around in anger to see Aiden’s intense eyes.

“Aleah – wait... I’m so sorry about my mom,” Aiden whispers, his voice laced with shame.

I avoid his eyes, knowing that mine are brimming with tears, and try not to think about how the simple touch of his hand on my arm makes my whole body tingle. Instead, I focus on getting a few words past the huge lump in my throat.

“It’s okay. You did warn me about your family,” I manage to say.

“Yea, I guess did, but
that
,” he says, pointing to David’s room “was
not
okay. It’s not right for her to say those things to you. You didn’t deserve that... I’m
really
sorry about her,” he repeats. “She can be a real bitch. But she’s usually all talk and no actual harm. My Uncle Tom on the other hand, can be both mean and dangerous, and I think he’s planning on coming for a visit soon. You should really try to avoid him when he comes, if you can.”

I nod my head, knowing I won’t be able to get any words out without breaking into tears. Instead, I keep my head down and my eyes glance over to his big masculine hand resting against my arm. This simple innocent touch has butterflies soaring in my stomach, and the feeling really confuses me.

Right now, I just can’t deal with all the emotions running through my body, so I slowly move my arm. Aiden senses my uneasiness and pulls his hand away. I wave him goodbye quickly and walk to my room, locking the door behind me.

When I am safely inside is when insecurities hit me in full force. I walk to the full-length mirror in the bathroom and stare blankly at my profile. Do I really look sixteen? I’ve been told I look young before, especially when I don’t have make up on, but sixteen? Maybe I should start wearing make up around the house. I stopped putting make up on after I moved into David’s house because no one hardly comes over and I didn’t feel the need to have make up on when taking care of David, but maybe I should.

I continue gazing at my image in the mirror. I’m wearing blue skinny jeans and a black sweater. Karen’s right about my clothes. They may not be from Walmart, but they’re department store clothing.

I’ve never felt the need to buy expensive designer clothes. When I lived at my parent’s house, I had a limited allowance and didn’t want to waste it on expensive clothing, and now that I’ve been making my own money, I’ve been saving almost all of it for when I go back to school.

I can’t afford to buy expensive clothes, and more importantly, I’ve never felt the need to. Of course, like every other girl my age, I like to have nice clothes and play dress up every once in a while, but I’ve never had the urge to spend hundreds of dollars on a piece of clothing just because of its label. Does that make me look like I’m from the ghetto? Does a mere look in my direction gives Karen the right to judge my whole character based on my appearance? I wonder what makes people like Karen think they can judge someone so quickly? And more importantly, how can they express whatever comes to their mind without giving a simple thought to how their words might hurt others? How could she not know or not care that her insults hurt me like a blade running through my heart?

I hate that I’m letting her words get to me this much. She’s obviously shallow and judgmental, her comments not worthy of my time, but it’s really hard not to. When you are raised as a woman to believe that a lot of your self-worth comes from your physical appearance, it’s hard to ignore a direct disparagement of your whole look.

The image in the mirror stares back at me, as I study it harder. I know I’m not bad looking, even if I feel that way right now. I am of average height with a slim figure and curves at the right places. I pull my ponytail out and let my jet-black waves fall over my shoulders. My hair comes up to right above my waist and is one of my best features.

I can make myself look pretty if I want to, and I usually don’t care what someone like Karen thinks about me. Yet her words keep turning over and over in my head. I let my mind wonder, if the reason her derision has affected me so much could have anything to do with the fact that she’s Aiden’s mom. Before the thought takes hold in my mind, however, I let it go. That’s not somewhere I need my mind to go right now. So, I shake my head to clear my mind, while making my way back to my bed where I can close my eyes and try to forget the insults directed at me by another member of the Pierson family.