Hawthorne & Heathcliff

“You’ll have to wait until I leave before you find out. That way you can’t take it back.” Rebecca winked, watching me a moment, her gaze searching mine, before turning back the way she’d come. She left, no more words passing between us.

 

She’d barely closed the door when I laid the garment bag on the floor and unzipped it. Inside laid a simple, strapless gray dress. It wasn’t poofy or long, probably knee-length at most, the skirt subtly tiered. The only embellishment was a thin black, satin bow at the waist that tied on the side. A note was pinned to the top, Heathcliff’s handwriting etched across the paper.

 

 

 

Put it on and wait for me. The dress will bring out your eyes.

 

 

 

Standing, I lifted the gown, my gaze going over my shoulder to the nurse waiting just beyond the room. She turned when she saw me looking, her auburn bun facing me, the grin I’d caught on her face dissolving.

 

Even though she gave me her back, she cleared her throat, and said, “It’s very pretty.”

 

The nurse’s name was Susie. She’d been with us for weeks now and was a sweet, middle-aged woman who always smelled like eucalyptus.

 

“I’m not sure this is a good idea,” I said.

 

Susie turned to face me again. “Never hurts to put it on.”

 

After a moment’s hesitation, I took the dress and climbed the stairs to my room, discarding the clothes I had on to step into the gown. It hadn’t look like much in the bag, but when I turned toward the gold mirror on my dresser, I gasped. The dress was so simple, it was spectacular, hugging my frame and highlighting things I never would have noticed about myself before. Especially my hair. The strawberry-blonde mess always confounded me, reminding me of a dandelion right before someone blew it to make a wish. The dress made my hair look different, like a red-gold halo right before the sun sets. Also, Heathcliff was right about the eyes. My gaze was suddenly filled with stormy clouds, emotions swirling.

 

Downstairs, a knock sounded on the door, and I jumped, rushing to run my fingers through my hair before heading to the stairs.

 

Voices met me.

 

“She’s getting ready,” Susie said.

 

Heathcliff’s laugh met her words. “And here I thought I’d have to force her into the dress.”

 

There’d been no shoes in the garment bag, and so I didn’t wear any, my bare feet quiet on the stairs as I descended. Heathcliff stood at the bottom with Susie, his broad frame enfolded in black dress pants and a suit jacket over a white dress shirt. There was no tie, and the top two buttons on the white shirt were left undone.

 

“You know I can’t leave,” I said, my voice breaking through their discussion.

 

Susie glanced up at me, her eyes widening before she backed into the house, leaving us alone.

 

Heathcliff’s head lifted, his lips parting as his gaze met mine, his eyes roaming my hair before dragging down the dress to my feet.

 

“That,” he said, gesturing at my frame, “looks so much better than I imagined.”

 

He stared, and I glanced down at myself. Silently, I wondered if he’d picked out the dress, but I didn’t ask it aloud. That didn’t matter. Him being here mattered.

 

A lump formed in my throat. “I can’t leave,” I repeated.

 

Heathcliff smiled, leaning over to remove his shoes—his sneakers of all things—leaving only a pair of dress socks. “I wasn’t really planning to go anywhere.”

 

My feet paused on the bottom step. “You want to stay here?”

 

Straightening, he glanced at me. “It’s better than the prom, really. I’d rather be all dressed up here with the family we love than in a room full of people sweating because of the completely inadequate air conditioner in the school gym.”

 

My heart swelled, my breath catching. “Heathcliff—”

 

He didn’t let me finish, his inscrutable gaze catching mine. “Take my hand, Hawthorne.” He offered me his palm, and I stepped toward him, my fingers curling around his. “Let’s go show your uncle what that dress does for his niece.”

 

Swallowing sudden tears, I followed his lead, our feet moving through the house until they rested at the end of Gregor’s hospital bed. His eyes were closed, but they opened when Heathcliff cleared his throat. My uncle’s dull gaze brightened when he caught sight of the two of us.

 

“I thought maybe,” Heathcliff glanced at me, and then at Gregor, “that you’d like to chaperone your niece’s prom, sir.”

 

For a long moment, Gregor stared as if it were the first time he’d ever laid eyes on me, tears filling his gaze. “God, when did you become a woman, Hawthorne?” he breathed.

 

My eyes watered, my smile meeting his abrupt grin.

 

“Susie!” Gregor called, his raspy voice breaking on the words. “You’ve got to come see Hawthorne. Looks like an angel, she does!”

 

Susie appeared in the doorway. “That she does,” she replied, grinning, her gaze flicking over us before moving to my uncle, a peculiar look passing through her eyes.

 

Heathcliff glanced down at me and winked. “Now, all we need is music.”

 

Susie shook herself and clapped. “I’ll turn on the radio!”

 

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