Twenty-Four Hours (2 page)

Michael smiled, glad to see her uneasiness fading. “Of course. Whatever the lady wishes.”

Michaelia turned, a little blush on her face at being called a lady. She’d been called many things in her life: pig, hippo, uggo, fat-ass and well, “lady” had never been one of them. Finding something that didn’t look like it had been sitting in the dryer for days, running to the bathroom to wash her face, brush her teeth, she paused. Let out a sigh as she looked in the mirror. Always plain, no high cheekbones or eyes of mystery, no pouty lips, ears that stuck out too much, especially since she had tied her unruly hair back into a resemblance of order. She went back to the living room to find Michael standing pretty much where she had left him. The lunatic hadn’t run for the hills, this just might not be a bad practical joke set up by Tracie after all. He extended his hand to her. “Shall we go?”

The heat coming from his hand literally warmed her to the core. She had never had someone hold her hand before. She knew no one would want to be seen holding her hand; she’d tried a few times with the very few guys who had gone out with her. One walked so far ahead of her, there was no way to hold his hand. Told her everything she needed to know. She wasn’t the holding hands type. She’d always wondered why, what was wrong with her hand that no one wanted to hold it, had spent many a night looking at her hand, wondering what was wrong with it that no one ever wanted to hold it. Sure, there was a slight scar on the back of the left hand and she never had the time or money for a manicure … her hands looked average, just … average. Nothing special, no fancy nails, but no one ever wanted to connect. Not until now, not until Michael. Now, right now, this very handsome man was walking in public with her hand in his.

They headed out into the bright summer sunshine, the air fresh and clear from the storm the night before. Michaelia looked up at the green trees, listened to the birds chirping, enjoying the morning for once in her life. But all too soon, they were at his car, a tasteful sedan, not too ostentatious, but definitely pricey and he let her hand go. So much for that. He did open the car door for her, made her smile again. To be treated so special, her heart was near bursting by just these simple actions. To finally be seen by someone, to be... cherished like this, like she mattered … it was a heady feeling indeed.

Michael slipped behind the wheel, starting the car, setting the radio to a soft rock station. Turning to Michaelia, he gently brushed her cheek. “I hope Ricardo’s is okay.”

Michaelia’s eyes went wide. Ricardo’s was one of the pricier joints in the neighborhood; people waited weeks to get in, to get just a hint of his world-famous breakfast creations. His eggs benedict was to die for and even his simple blueberry pancakes were heaven on a plate. “Do you think we can get in?” She then looked down at her jeans and t-shirt, biting her lip, her stomach starting to do flip-flops. “I don’t think I’m dressed for Ricardo’s. Maybe we can go back, I can find something more appropriate.”

Michael patted her arm. “I have an open reservation. Don’t worry. And you look fine. Trust me.”

The parking lot was full, as she expected, row after row of Mercedes, BMWs, convertibles, the gas-guzzling SUVs. Michael opened the door for her, again, something she wasn’t used to. She felt her cheeks get a little hot when they were shown right to a table, by-passing at least 10 other people waiting in line. They were handed menus and while Michaelia was starving, there was no way she was going to eat more than a piece of toast and coffee in front of this magnificent male in sitting across from her. She ordered her toast and coffee, but as the waitress picked up her menu, Michael stopped her.

“I know you’re more hungry than that.” Michaelia felt Michael’s hand on her, the reassurance flowing from his hand into her made her feel not so self-conscious anymore. Michael looked up at the waitress and ordered stuffed omelets, a side of fruit and some sausages. “Sounds like a well-rounded breakfast, no?” Michaelia gave a shy smile. She was still determined to not eat much in front of him; obviously by looking at her, she does love food, but there’s no reason to take ALL mystery away.

The food smelled wonderful; eggs, three types of cheese all blended together with fresh, spicy sausage and cool, flavorful fruit. Michael dove right in; Michaelia stared as the food started to disappear from his plate. She became a little jealous, knowing this man could probably eat anything he wanted and not gain an ounce, while Michaelia could sniff at a chocolate chip cookie and gain five pounds. She began to pick at the food, her mouth watering, but determined not to eat … to act like those size two assistants at the office, always picking at their food, never inhaling it like Michaelia did, in private of course. She moved the food around on her plate, watching the colors of the foods blend, tasting a little bite now and then. She looked up to see Michael studying her.

“The food not to your liking? We can get something else.”

“No, it’s wonderful, just not hungry.”

Michael smiled and reached out to her hand again, a small spark sending energy through her, giving her confidence, enough to devour her entire plate right in front of him. He smiled as she ate, watching her savor her food, enjoying the superb creation that Chef Ricardo had prepared.

“I like a woman with a healthy appetite.”

Michaelia put down her napkin and looked away. “Healthy appetite doesn’t quite explain it all. Just never learned to turn down the cookies.” The horrors of grade school, even high school came back to her. Taunted, teased, trying to make sure she never took more than anyone else, eating by herself in the corner. Lost in her romance novels, first the teenage angst-riddled love stories, where the heroine always finds her voice and her boy friend in the end, to the adult, bosom-heaving, sexually charged bodice-rippers that became her world.

“I think you look beautiful.”

Forcing herself back to the present, she blushed. No one had ever said that to her before. It was right out of those bodice-rippers she had just been thinking about. Now she felt uncomfortable and wanted to get away from this topic, Michaelia looked him square in the eyes. “You say you’re here because I asked for help?”

“The Elders heard your wish. So I’m here. I’m to give you your 24 hours you wanted.”

Michaelia swallowed; her breakfast was threatening to make a re-appearance. “Oh, so … you’re here to pretend to like me, romance me, because of a wish?”

“Sorta, but really, it’s not like that. Guardians are very serious about their jobs. When I heard about your wish, about what you wanted, I asked for this assignment. Because I truly think you are beautiful, desirable, all those things no one’s ever said to you before. I want to romance you. And if it was up to me, it would be more than 24 hours, but I have to follow the rules. The wish was for 24 hours and I want to give you the 24 hours you will never forget.” Michael tossed his napkin on his plate. “Now, there’s a carnival in town, shall we head out over there? Have some fun?”

Michaelia gave him a smile. “Sure, that sounds nice. I know Tracie and Sheryl from the office said they were going, their boyfriends were taking them. Well, Tracie’s “fiancé” is taking her. You should have seen the rock she was showing off at the office this past week.” Michaelia gave a face, trying to keep the jealousy out of her voice.

“So it sounds like the place to see and be seen. Let’s go.” Michael stood up and offered his hand to her; she certainly wasn’t used to this kind of treatment, but accepted his hand to stand up, fully intending to withdraw her hand once she was standing.

Michael had other ideas; clasping his hand in hers he lead her out of the restaurant, right past a few people she recognized from work, as they all craned their necks to see who she was with. Made her feel special … for the first time in her lonely life.

* * * * *

The carnival was noisy and crowded, smells of hot dogs, elephant ears, corn dogs, both the washed and unwashed examples of humanity, all these smells blended, wafting over the crowded vicinity. The new, rank scent hung in the humid air, clinging to everything and everyone in sight. To the left, there were carnival barkers, bellowing out their games, daring anyone in earshot to step right up and try their luck. Although luck had nothing to do with these rigged games, the huge stuffed animals being the irresistible enticement for the children and girlfriends alike. To the right, fattening foods of every kind were to be had, every nutritionist’s nightmare.

And through it all, through every side show, through every ride, Michael held Michaelia’s hand, letting go only the times when she needed it. He even once kissed two scraped knuckles she banged against the gate. Prince Charming had nothing on him, this was the fairytale of her dreams. Turning the corner of the water guns booth, her laugh at his joke dying as she heard familiar voices … Tracie and Sheryl … calling her name. She stiffened, the voices cutting through her, thinking her wonderful day was about to be spoiled. There they were, tweedle-dum and tweedle-dee, dressed in their finest low-cut, high-rise fashions. As they approached, she fully expected Michael to drop her hand like a hot potato, but he held on … even tighter.

“Why Mickey … who’s this you got visiting? A cousin?” Tracie had this shrill, high-pitched voice and anyone who was in earshot turned to look.

Michaelia tensed at the pet nickname Tracie and Sheryl had for her. But she was used to it; it was better than most names she’d been called by the popular ones in high school. She looked at the ground, not really knowing what to say. But Michael knew, he knew all too well and spoke up.

“I’m Michaelia’s boyfriend. In the military, so only in town for the day. I’m Michael and you are?”

Tracie looked visibly shaken from what Michael said. She turned to Sheryl, both trying to keep their surprised looks under control. “Tracie and this is Sheryl. Didn’t Mickey tell you all about us? We’re besties at work. Seems Mickey has been holding out on us.” Tracie’s sarcastic voice died out as Sheryl gave her a look, leaning in to whisper in Tracie’s ear.

“Michaelia and I don’t have much time to talk about trivial matters. We don’t get to see each other as much as we’d like. So, the time is spent with just us. I’m sure you can understand as I see you are engaged. Quality time with your fiancé is to be cherished, true?”

Michaelia looked up at Michael, that special feeling growing. To have someone who actually defended her. Not even her parents defended her. They never even bothered to lie to her and tell her she was pretty. Not her pragmatic, unemotional parents.

Tracie put up her hand, the enormous rock on her hand sparkling in the sunlight. “Well yes, I guess I can. Have you two tried the elephant ears booth? I’m certain Mickey would
love
to have her fingers on an order or three. Good stuff, huh Mickey?”

Michaelia noticed Sheryl lowering the zipper on her hoodie. She sidled up to Michael, giving him a show while twirling a strand of hair. She stared down at her dusty shoes, knowing exactly what Sheryl was up to, knowing that no man could resist her ample assets accentuated with a tiny waist. “So only in town for a day, huh? I’m sure we could find a party to go to. Tracie’s fiancé is in a band.”

Michael stepped back, pulling Michaelia back with him so her back was against his chest. Placing his arms around her, he responded to Sheryl. “If MICHAELIA wants, but we normally like to hang out together. What do you think babe?” He knew all about these types of females; wild animals had nothing on these two; these two would hunt down their prey, pick it apart, leave the bones for the carrion if allowed to. Superficial, fake, cruel excuses for human beings.

“A quiet night at home sounds wonderful.” Michaelia leaned back into his embrace, the feeling of his arms around her giving a sense of security she’d never had in her life.

Michael kissed Michaelia’s cheek, showing both of these women that he was taken. “I think we were just on our way to the popping balloons booth; I promised I win Michaelia a stuffed animal to add to her collection. I bring her one from everywhere I’m stationed.” Michael turned to Michaelia. “Babe, food or want to watch me and my superb hand-eye coordination?” He wanted there to be no question; Michaelia was his, he had eyes only for her. The pity he had felt melted away; he could now see the golden truth, the goddess within her, the beauty that no one had bothered to look for. And looking at her two supposed “friends”; all he could see was nastiness, ugly disguised in a pretty shell. A sense of possessiveness came over him and he held her closer.

Michaelia finally found her voice. “I’d like to get that stuffed animal if you don’t mind. Not really hungry right now.” She beamed up at him, their eyes caught and a warmth she’d never felt before flowed through her body.

Michael started to lead them down toward the games. “It was a pleasure meeting you two. If we have time, I’ll have Michaelia tell me all about you.” He knew he shouldn’t, he knew the Elders would frown upon his ungentlemanly demeanor, but it felt good to leave those two in the dust, the hot, humid, smelly dust.

And that was it, they walked off leaving Tracie and Sheryl standing there with their mouths agape.

* * * * *

Being a Guardian, winning tons of gifts for Michaelia wasn’t that difficult, seeing through the ruses being used. And with each stuffed animal, with each little cheap souvenir, Michael felt her coming out of her shell, felt the love and beauty emanate from her. Through it all he kept a tight grip on her hand, knowing full well she’d never experienced being held onto in public. But there was still that hesitancy coming from her, a resistance. He realized that even after the run-in with Tracie and Sheryl, she was waiting for him to drop her hand, walk away, head for the nearest bleach-bottle blonde. As they left the ice cream booth, an opportunity arose for him to make his move, seal the experience for her.

“Umf.” A little boy had come careening around the corner and slammed right into Michaelia, the ice cream cone hitting the side of her face. The humiliation of standing there in public with ice cream on her chubby cheeks was a little more than she could take. It had taken every ounce of will-power she had to order the damn thing, now … she wanted to crawl in a hole and hide. People were looking at her, staring, wondering what this pig of a creature with chocolate ice cream on her face was doing with such a fine specimen of masculinity.