Link: Lost Faith Title Page and Description

CAUTION - emotional pain/open emotional wounds

--

The three exited out into the hallway after Heather turned down the lights in Faith's bed and bath, showing Eric how to do it with a long stick made for that purpose for people not tall enough to reach them.

Near the stairway at the end of the hall the three saw Fredrick adjusting one of the wall-mounted gas lamps. Turning and seeing Eric wearing one of Faith's robes and her slippers, the huge man nearly broke the light's mantle. Composing himself, he calmly finished with the light, adjusted the flow, and replaced the chimney. Turning with his usual grace and dignity, he bowed slightly as the three approached him.

"Is Madame ready for dinner?"

Nodding she replied, "Yes, Fredrick. Please be so good as to advise Cook to serve at her convenience? Thank you." While Fredrick briskly preceded them, the three slowly started down the stairs.

His aunt and cousin descended fluidly, each holding the hem of their skirt to avoid tripping, and before he realized he needed to do something similar, he noticed he'd already been mimicking them with the robe he wore without even thinking.

"I hope you'll come to love Hargrave House, sweetie." Heather said as they came down the stairs. "The house itself is almost one hundred twenty years old. Back then, wealthy people were just starting to install electric lights in their houses. Some, like the people that built this house, had both electric and gas lights installed."

Reaching the lower landing and turning right, the three went down the few remaining steps into the entryway as Heather finished talking about the house. Turning left and entering the huge living room, Eric saw that a fire burned warmly in the fireplace set into the far left wall, illuminating the matching white couch, loveseats, and chair arranged in a semi-circle in the far right corner with an antique coffee table in the middle of them. A large ornate rug covered the highly polished hardwood floor of the closer half of the living room, while various shelves and cabinets filled with mementos and heirlooms decorated the walls.

Passing the grandfather clock that sat in a nook around the corner from the lower landing of the stairs, it's slow and even ticking echoing around the silent room, Fredrick emerged from the archway along the left wall. As the butler escorted them into the dining room, Eric looked at the enormous table that occupied it. Eight antique chairs surrounded it, but it could easily accommodate twice as many.

Gaslights lit the room from around the walls while an elaborate electric crystal chandelier hung over the table; the crystals in it refracting the glow of light from around the room making it sparkle even without electricity. A large window took up most of the far wall, beautiful white satin and lace curtains providing privacy, while a white swinging door could be seen in the right-hand wall near the archway.

Hearing the sound of a chair scrape across the polished dark wood flooring as Fredrick seated his aunt at the head of the table, he saw Faith standing next to the left side middle chair as though waiting for something. Moving to sit in the chair between Faith and his aunt, he stopped when Heather cleared her throat. "Yes, Aunt Heather?" he asked.

"A gentleman always seats a lady before taking one himself, sweetie." she answered. "You should also rise anytime a lady enters or leaves the room or when a guest enters or leaves."

"Oh." he replied shyly. "I... I didn't know that." Turning toward Faith, he clumsily pulled out her chair. She sat gracefully as he pushed it in, helping him push it the rest of the way. Then taking his seat with Fredrick's help, he looked over at his aunt. "Did I do that right?" he asked hesitantly.

"It was fine." Heather noted with a sad smile, remembering a similar incident with Eric's father Jack. Meanwhile, Cook brought out their meal of petite sirloin, garlic potatoes, and steamed vegetables.

Eric watched the older woman as she served his aunt first and then Faith. Her short gray hair sat in tight curls and framed her plump face; the gray nearly matching the color of the dress she wore, with a simple white apron tied around her ample waist. Returning to the kitchen she brought out his plate last, smiling at him with compassionate eyes that seemed to understand his fear and loneliness with just a look. Without a word, she returned to the kitchen as Fredrick stood by impassively. Picking up his fork to start eating, having finally remembered that he was hungry, he again heard his aunt clear her throat. Looking over at her he asked, "Yes, Aunt Heather?"

"In this house, we say a prayer of thanks before eating." she explained. "We would have nothing to eat, were it not for His gifts."

Watching her bow and clasp her hands in prayer, then turning to see Faith had done the same, he begrudgingly did likewise.

"Dear Lord, thank you for the blessings you have seen fit to bestow upon us, and make us truly thankful for them. In the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, Amen." she intoned respectfully.

"Amen." Faith echoed and finally Eric mumbled it as well, the entire time cursing God in his mind. While his family attended church on Easter, and he'd been taught to pray at bedtime, they had never prayed at dinner. He'd thought that was only something they did in old movies.

Heather opened her eyes and looked at her nephew, seeing the faintest hint of anger still visible in his expression as he opened his eyes and looked to her. Sighing and silently praying for his wounded soul, she picked up her fork and began to eat while the howl of wind outside could be heard mutedly through the walls. As Eric began wolfing his food down, she cleared her throat yet again, seeing that she had a lot of work to do to teach him proper manners. "Sweetie, please don't eat so quickly. No one is going to take it from you."

He looked over and watched Faith taking small bites carefully and slowly, smiling as she looked back at him. Slowing down, but taking larger bites than his cousin, he savored the flavor of the beef and managed to finish his plate while Faith had half of hers left. Still hungry, but not sure how to ask for seconds, or if seconds were even allowed, he sat back in his chair as despair once more threatened him.

"Sweetie? Would you like more to eat?" Heather asked after finishing a bite.

"Please?" he said as he sat forward, his face showing the faintest sign of hope. "Can I have another piece of that meat?"

"May you have another..." she corrected him sternly.

"Sorry." he blushed. "May I have another piece of the meat?" Eric saw her nod to Fredrick who disappeared into the kitchen for a moment before returning followed closely by Cook. Taking his empty plate and replacing it with a new plate holding only a petite sirloin, she smiled at him kindly and then hurried back to the kitchen.

Resuming his meal, he finished as the others did; the storm raging outside even more fiercely. The dimmer light of the gas lamps wavered slightly as he took his last drink of milk. Picking up his napkin and wiping his mouth, he turned to his aunt. "Thank you for dinner, Aunt Heather. It was very good." he said reservedly.

She smiled at him politely. "Thank you, Eric. You are most welcome." Just as Fredrick came up behind her chair to pull it back out, Eric remembered her admonitions at the start of dinner and quickly stood up when she did. Seeing the pleased look on his aunt's face made him feel the faintest trace of happiness. Following her as she exited the dining room, he was surprised when Faith came up next to him and took his hand, leading him out and into the living room, shyly smiling at him as they walked.

Heather glided into the living room, the fire warming it against the bitter cold outside, and sat graciously on the loveseat nearest the bay window that faced the fireplace and gestured to the couch that sat against the adjacent wall. Faith made her way there, Eric following in tow to sit next to her.

Turning toward the two, Heather took the moment to explain some things to Eric. "Since you're new sweetie, I should explain our rules and traditions. Breakfast is at seven each morning. When you are not in school, lunch will be at noon. Dinner is served promptly at six. If there is news of importance to share, it will be done after grace and before we eat. Any matters of lesser importance are to be discussed after dinner when we retire here to the living room. If nothing need be discussed, you may feel free to read here or go up to your room to play. Baths will be done and teeth brushed before nine when I will come to tuck you in and kiss you goodnight."

Continuing, Heather's tone turned ever so slightly stern. "I do not tolerate back-talk, interruption, whining, or any form of disrespectful behavior, to include neglecting your responsibilities such that it would require me to nag you." Looking at Eric, her voice softened slightly. "In exchange I will refrain from speaking harshly or yelling. You are both of an age that corporal punishment should no longer be necessary. I expect you to act accordingly."

"When I instruct you to do something, I expect immediate compliance, not a question about why you should have to." she added, glancing at Faith as that was her worst failing. "If, after you have complied, you feel the action requires explanation, I will do so at my convenience, not yours, but I will explain." Thinking for a moment she concluded, "I will permit one infraction of the household rules to allow for the fact that nobody is perfect, but further infractions will be punished. Do you understand why, Eric?"

"Because if you didn't, we'd just keep breaking the rule, which would mean it wasn't really a rule at all. That's what..." His voice trailed off and he sighed. "...that's what Mom used to say."

She smiled, knowing that it was Richard who had come up with the rules when he ran the household while she worked as a therapist. She was happy to see that his sister Erica had done likewise in her own home. "Good! Do you think it's a fair arrangement?" Seeing him nod absently, she shook her head, thinking that she may have to begin therapy sessions with him to help him through his grief and pain. He seemed so disconnected with life that it pained her to know this was her dear friend Jack's son; the man who had taught Richard to really live and laugh. "So, do either of you two have any questions or points you would like to bring up for discussion?"

"Yes, Mamma." Faith said respectfully. "Two questions and a point of discussion, actually."

"Go ahead, dear." her mother permitted.

"First I wanted to ask about school tomorrow. Is there going to be school with the weather this bad?" she nervously looked toward the window.

Shaking her head, Heather explained. "I don't believe so, dear. However, even if they do not cancel school, I'll be excusing you from it tomorrow as Eric's arrival will require you to be available. He'll need someone who can show him how we do things here, and I can think of no better example than you, dear. Your second question?"

"My second question is to ask if Eric could be allowed to sleep in my room with me tonight so he won't be lonely." she inquired. "That gets to the point I wanted to discuss. May we discuss it, Mamma?"

Heather had expected her to ask. Taking a breath, she turned to him. "Well, I know you're troubled to be alone, and I don't blame you, sweetie. You've been through more than many people could bear in such a short time, especially at such a young age. What do you want to do? Would you rather sleep in your own room tonight, or spend your first night here with Faith?"

Shocked she would even ask him, Eric shrugged. "Well, I don't want to be alone, but I can't sleep in the same room as Faith, right?"

"Why do you say that?" Heather asked, settling comfortably into her therapist's habits of answering a question with a question.

He blinked at her in confusion. Thinking that his aunt wanted him to say the obvious out loud to prove he knew it, he cleared his throat. "Because it isn't right for boys and girls to sleep in the same room together. Like, when I used to stay over at April's house sometimes when my mom would be out of town? Before we turned ten I used to sleep in her room. After that, April's parents made me sleep in her older brother's room that he wasn't using anymore since he went off to college."

Arching a brow, she answered honestly. "Well, April's parents were free to set whatever rules they wished in their home. I personally disagree with their opinion regarding age appropriateness, though. I see nothing wrong with young boys and girls sharing a room, even up to your age. You're children, not teenagers... and cousins, besides."

Using the opportunity to work out some of his repressed emotions, she covertly changed directions. "Family is different. If you had been raised here as our child, we would have put you two in the same room together growing up. As for Faith's request, I would leave that up to you since you seem to feel there's an issue." She laid the suggestion out specifically, watching for how he would react to it being his choice and presenting that it was his opinion, not that of April's parents, that he was stating.

He had been expecting she would disallow it due to their age, but since it was left entirely up to him, he bit his lower lip and tried to think. Whenever he tried to imagine sleeping in that big room by himself, so far from all he'd ever known, it left him feeling even more scared and lonely.

"Well, I really don't want to be alone." he pondered out loud. "If it were up to me, I would chose to stay with you or Faith... maybe just for tonight? I really didn't know if it's right or wrong. I was just repeating what April's parents told me, but you seem to think it's OK, so... may I, Aunt Heather?"

She nodded in understanding, happy that he'd asserted a choice of his own, a definite sign of improvement over the apathetic behavior she'd observed thus far. "Very well. You may go up to Faith's room with her. I'll be up in a while to turn down the lights."

Eric gingerly got up and followed his cousin. Seeing her pause to kiss her mother, he stepped up to his aunt and leaned forward to hug her. While she hugged him back, he felt warm and secure; a feeling of genuine affection like when his mother or April would hug him. Kissing her on the cheek as he'd seen Faith do, he stepped back and said, "Thank you for taking care of me, Aunt Heather."

She smiled at him. "Of course, sweetie. You're family! Now scoot on up to Faith's room! I'll be up soon."

Smiling weakly back, he turned to see Faith holding out her hand to him. Once he took it, Faith led them both to the stairs, Eric holding his robe again as he ascended to not trip on it. She led him by the hand all the way to her room. As they went inside, he watched Faith pick up the long metal stick and use it to turn each of the lights up until the lamps on the walls were lit brightly, giving a soft but warm light to the room.

Faith then stepped over to her dresser and removed some things. Closing the drawer and turning towards the bathroom she said, "I'll be out after my bath. You can play with any of my toys if you like! I promise I won't take too long!"

Just after she closed the door, it dawned on Eric that he had no toothbrush; his being lost in an airport somewhere. Wandering around the room aimlessly for a moment, he turned when he heard the bathroom door open.

"Eric?" Faith asked. "Could you help me please?" Going over to the door, he watched her turn away from him, showing him the back of her dress. "Would you unzip my dress for me, please?"

Reaching up, he unzipped the dress, seeing she was wearing another garment underneath it. Overcome with curiosity he asked, "What's that under your dress?"

Faith laughed lightly. "That's my slip, silly! Thank you for the help! I always have a hard time getting the zipper down! I just can't manage to reach that part of my back!" She gently shooed him back into her room and closed the door once more before he could even ask about a toothbrush.

Resuming his wandering, he looked at her dolls, the items on her vanity, and then went to the large toy chest on the opposite side of the room between the windows. He opened it to find several tea sets, more stuffed animals, many Barbie dolls, and a good-sized box marked 'Doll Clothes'. All were very neatly organized as though each one knew their place and had assumed it before he had lifted the lid.

Closing the box, he went to the toy chest at the foot of her bed and saw it contained a collection of board games and other boxed toys. He saw one that caught his interest, pulled it out, and examined it, not sure what it was. What's a Spirograph? he wondered. Figuring out quickly that it was some sort of drawing toy, he took it up on Faith's bed. Lying across the foot of her bed, he determined how it worked and idly started creating many different designs, serving as a distraction from his sorrow and loneliness.

Just as he was really getting into using different color combinations, Faith came out wearing a pale blue nightgown with a towel wrapped around her hair. Seeing her, he was suddenly reminded that he was in a girl's room and wearing girl's panties, robe, and slippers and began to blush. Watching her as she began brushing out her hair, he almost jumped when she noticed what he was playing with.

"Oh! My Spirograph! I love that!" Climbing on her bed to join him, she saw he seemed embarrassed. "What's wrong? I said you could play with my toys! I don't mind that you were using my Spirograph!"

Fidgeting, he blushed even more. "Oh. It's not that. I just..." He was too embarrassed to say the words and really didn't feel like a long conversation about it, but at the same time he was too polite not to answer. Taking a deep breath and closing his eyes, he let it all out. "It's just when I saw you I remembered that I was wearing your robe and slippers and stuff. I got so into drawing that I forgot for a while."

Faith dropped down on her elbows next to him. "I think you look pretty. Don't you like my robe? Doesn't it just make you feel all pretty inside?"

"I guess it's nice." Eric shrugged, running a finger over the satin. "It's really girly though." he pointed out.

Picking up a pencil, she started to draw little pink hearts on a free sheet of paper. "I guess I don't understand. What's wrong with being girly?"

"There isn't anything really wrong with being girly. It's just... Boys are supposed to be different."

She continued to draw as he resumed using the Spirograph, trying once more to distract himself. "Different how?" Faith interrogated.

He started to answer, came up blank, then thought of something. "OK. So my friend April? She likes unicorns. I like horses."

"I like both." Faith smiled wryly.

Sighing, he tried another approach. "OK, she likes playing house and Barbie dolls, I like video games and riding bikes."

She stopped to consider his comparison. After a moment she asked, "Did she ride bikes with you and play video games with you?"

Replying nonchalantly, he said, "Sure."

"Did you play house and Barbies with her?"

He stopped and remembered all the times they'd played house with April as his pretend wife. He used to make up long and elaborate stories about their life and problems and it was a lot of fun. He also remembered the many times they played with her Barbie dolls, again with him usually driving the narrative that established the direction of their play. "Well... yeah."

She jumped on his confession with a mischievous grin. "Was it fun?"

Thinking back, he admitted to himself that April never had to cajole him into playing the games she liked. He liked doing it because it made April happy and he had fun making up stories to go along with it. "Well, when you put it that way, I do have to admit it was fun most of the time, but I..."

Faith didn't give him a chance to rebut. "And did April like playing video games and riding bikes with you?"

Not really seeing what she was getting at, he replied, "Sure. She liked racing through the dirt lots at the end of our street."

"So then I don't get it." she unraveled his argument like an expert in debate. "You say boys like different things from girls, but you liked doing things April liked and she liked doing things you liked. She liked feeling boyish sometimes, and you liked being girly sometimes. So then, what's wrong with feeling pretty? You are pretty!"

Putting down his pencil, he tried to recover his position. "OK, I'll admit that, but I would never play Barbies if April didn't want to."

"Why not? Barbies are lots of fun! You said so yourself!" she grinned.

Dropping his head down on the bed, he sighed out heavily. Answering into the comforter he replied, "I don't know, OK? I just know that if April didn't like Barbies, I probably wouldn't have played with them on my own!"

Faith tapped him on the back of the head. When he raised his head to look at her he saw her smiling. In a matter-of-fact tone she quietly stated, "Now that you know Barbies are fun, why wouldn't you want to play with them?"

Dropping his face back into the comforter, he groaned loudly into the bed. Wanting to think of a good comeback, but now lacking the desire to even fight her on the issue, he raised back up and sighed. "OK. I give. I can't tell you why. I don't have any better reason than it just wouldn't be any fun if April didn't like it."

Going back to drawing she quipped, "Well of course! How could you have fun playing something if the person you're playing with doesn't like it? Duh!"

At that, Eric sat up, grabbed a pillow from the top of Faith's bed, and bonked her with it gently on the top of her head. Smiling and giggling like crazy, she grabbed another pillow, swinging it wildly at him. The two struggled for a better position to get each other, giggling happily, when the door slowly opened without either of them noticing. After a moment of watching the two, Heather cleared her throat.

The two children looked over at the door frozen mid-play in sudden shock. Faith quickly tossed the pillow back to the head of her bed and dismounted, standing silently next to her bedpost. Slowly Eric did the same until the two were standing next to one another.

Entering the room, her white satin nightgown and robe drifting around her, she crossed her arms. "Faith? You know rough play is not allowed after bath time and never in the house."

Hanging her head she admitted, "Yes, Mamma. I'm sorry. I forgot myself."

Looking over at Eric standing shyly in Faith's robe and slippers and looking very ashamed, she simply pursed her lips.

Fidgeting with the robe, he mumbled guiltily, "Please don't be mad at Faith, Aunt Heather. I started it. I'm sorry."

Seeing genuine remorse in his eyes, she uncrossed her arms, shook her head, and laughed lightly. Petting both on the top of their heads, Heather sighed. "Considering your ignorance, and seeing you genuinely happy for a moment, I'll let it pass this time, but please try to remember. This is not your old home. We have our own rules here. Not too many, and none without reason, but I do expect you to keep them. Alright?"

Guiltily, he looked down. "I will, Aunt Heather." Looking back up at her he added, "Aunt Heather? I don't have a toothbrush."

Thinking a moment, she realized she had not thought of that detail. "Well, we can get you one tomorrow, but in the mean time go in the bath and use one of Faith's. You'll find an unopened one in the bottom cabinet next to the sink. Please be quick about it. Faith? Please finish brushing out your hair. It's already well after nine."

Walking quickly into the bathroom as Faith obeyed her mother, he found one of her unopened pink Barbie toothbrushes. Repressing the feeling that using it was somehow bad, he pushed it aside and began brushing his teeth.

It was unnerving seeing his reflection in the ornate bathroom mirror. Faith's pink toothbrush in his mouth and the girly bathrobe he wore, along with his nearly dry long dirty-blonde hair combined with the feminine scent of the shampoo and soap he'd used earlier, making him see a girl reflected back at him. He didn't even try to fight it. At this point he was getting used to it and figured that there wasn't much of a choice in the matter anyway.

Tomorrow, he reasoned, things will be back to normal. He soon realized that they in fact would never be so for him, ever again. He would have to find a new normal, the realization undoing all his happiness from earlier. Rinsing his mouth absently, he padded back out into the bedroom and across to the right side of Faith's bed, she having already gotten in on the left side and sitting up waiting for him; the gaslights turned low.

He was about to climb in when his aunt cleared her throat. Stopping to stand next to the bed he asked, "Yes, Aunt Heather?"

"We do not sleep in robes and slippers, sweetie." she pointed out patiently.

"Oh." Flushing once more, he stepped out of the slippers and untied the robe, letting his aunt remove it for him as he clutched the neck of the oversized T-shirt once more.

Heather returned the robe to the bathroom before Faith asked, "Mamma? Couldn't he borrow a nightgown to sleep in? He could wear my favorite! Freddie's T-shirt is awfully short and too baggy to sleep in." she pointed out.

Returning from the bathroom, Heather considered her daughter's argument. She didn't want him to feel uncomfortable having to wear only a T-shirt and girl's underwear to bed, but she didn't want him to wear a girl's nightdress even more. Thinking he would simply reject the idea outright she asked, "Well, why don't we leave it up to him?" She looked at Eric and smiled. "Sweetie?"

His vacant expression had returned. Having already admitted to Faith that he enjoyed girly things conspired with his thoughts of how his life would never be normal to make him accept whatever Heather wanted. If that were him wearing a girl's nightgown, he would just accept it as his new normal. "It's fine, Aunt Heather." he shrugged. "Whatever you think is best."

Sighing, she was disappointed that he hadn't taken the initiative to say he didn't want to wear a nightgown. She knew Faith was right. Other than social convention, there really was no valid reason to prevent him from sleeping in a long nightgown that was his size and available versus a short ill-fitting T-shirt. Trying to slip one by her daughter, she changed tactics. "It would be silly to have him change when he doesn't have a preference, since a nightgown would only be a bit longer than the T-shirt anyway."

Shaking her head, Faith didn't buy it. "Mamma? My long nightgown? My favorite? It goes down to my feet! It would be way better than a T-shirt!"

"Possibly," she said, still trying to find a way out of it. Seeing Eric standing by the bed blankly, she shook her head. "I'm going to call it 'good enough' for tonight. We'll get you boy's pajamas tomorrow. Go ahead and climb into bed, sweetie." she ordered him.

Not really listening to their conversation, and no longer caring what he was wearing, Eric pulled back the comforter and sheet and climbed into Faith's bed. In doing so, the baggy shirt drooped open so that both Faith and her mother could easily see the borrowed undies he still wore. Heather avoided looking by going to the bathroom to dim the gaslights to minimum. Faith however, watched him avidly as he got into bed and adjusted the loose shirt repeatedly, trying to get it to stay on his shoulders.

Approaching the bed, Heather waited while Faith laced her fingers together and prayed silently, finishing with, "Amen." Once done, they looked to Eric.

Seeing them waiting for him to do likewise, he figured it was easier to just fake it rather than fight it, and didn't care either way. Closing his eyes, he pretended to pray for several seconds and then absently mumbled, "Amen."

As the two settled in for sleep, Heather kissed them both on the forehead and returned to the door. "Goodnight, you two. Pleasant dreams." she said softly as she closed the door behind her.

Eric started fidgeting almost immediately. The baggy shirt, as Faith had predicted, turned out to be very difficult to sleep in, making him move to adjust it over and over again.

"Eric? Are you alright?" Faith asked just above a whisper.

"Not really." he answered embarrassedly. "The T-shirt is so baggy it keeps bunching up every time I even breathe, but I'll be fine. Really."

Quietly slipping out of bed, she tiptoed across the room to her dresser. Coming back quickly, she handed him her favorite nightgown. "Here." she said sympathetically, keeping her voice low. "I don't care what Mamma says. I think you should sleep in this."

Shaking his head he whispered, "I don't wanna make Aunt Heather mad at me, Faith. She said to just sleep in the T-shirt."

"You're gonna fidget and fuss all night if you stay in that! Come on! Please? Mamma said it was up to you." she argued putting on her 'cute girl' look.

Seeing her hold it out to him again and knowing she was just going to keep insisting, and not really caring about anything at the moment, he sighed and reached out, taking the garment with his hand. "It's really soft." he mumbled.

Letting him take it, she stepped back and whispered, "I know! And super comfy! Well, come on then! Get up and put it on!"

Embarrassed for her to see him, the shirt having ridden up to the point it was exposing the underwear he'd borrowed, he shook his head. "Get back in bed and turn your back?" he stated as though it were a question.

"Why?" she asked innocently.

He was about to explain, but apathy and a desire to just escape reality with sleep made him give in. Getting out of bed, he lifted the T-shirt off with ease. Standing in front of Faith in nothing but the panties he'd borrowed, he quickly slipped into the pink satin polyester nightgown, dropping it over his head and pushing his arms through the elastic banded short sleeves.

Satisfied, she smiled and walked back to her side of the bed and climbed in, settling in facing him this time.

Wearily, he climbed back into bed, having to admit that wearing the fitting nightgown that came down to his ankles was far better than the loose T-shirt. It was soft and comfortable, but it felt funny wearing a satin nightie with lace edges and little flowers on the chest, every move reminding him of its presence. Settling in, all Eric could hear was the rain on the roof and the wind howling through the trees. Punctuated by occasional thunder and lightning flashes through the window, he found it difficult to get to sleep.

After a few minutes he heard Faith whisper, "Eric? Are you still awake?"

"Uh-huh." he replied turning to face her. "It's a little spooky here."

Scootching closer to him, she continued whispering. "If I tell you something, you promise not to get mad at me for it?"

"OK. I suppose so. What is it?"

She shook her head. "You have to promise first."

Rolling his eyes, he answered, "OK. I promise not to get mad. What is it?"

Faith lowered her voice even softer. "I think you look really pretty in my nightgown. And I'm glad you chose to sleep here with me tonight."

Blushing, he looked down at the top of the pink nightgown that he could still see above the covers. Seeing the little pink roses on his chest, he shrugged. "If I tell you something, do you promise to keep it a secret?"

Nodding she replied, "I promise! What is it?"

Eric sighed and closed his eyes, embarrassed to say it out loud. "It's not too bad really, not nearly as bad as I thought it would be. I thought I'd hate it, but it's actually really nice. It's super soft and gives me butterflies in my stomach, but in a good kind of way. I think I actually like it."

His cousin nodded and smiled, sliding close until he could hear her conspiratorial whisper. "Now you know why it's my favorite!"

"Remember you promised not to tell anyone... especially not your mom!"

A giggle escaped her lips before going back to whispering. "I promise! I'm really glad you like it though. It's not as pretty as some of my other ones, but it's a lot softer and more like some of Mamma's grown-up nightgowns. Doesn't it just make you feel all pretty inside even more than my robe?"

Gulping at the suggestion, he blinked nervously a few times before answering. "Um... I guess so. I... I don't really know what pretty feels like."

"Um... it feels like... well... pretty!" Faith stumbled over the words, realizing she couldn't describe it any better than Eric could. "I guess it is hard to describe. I bet that's what you're feeling though! Goodnight, Eric."

"Goodnight, Faith." he whispered. "See you in the morning." Rolling over with his back to Faith, he thought about what he was feeling, wondering if Faith was right, then tried not to think too much about anything, but the thoughts came unbidden. This has to be the worst day of my life. he mused. I wish April was here! She'd know what to do. His eyes closing, tears threatening to pour forth, he wondered, Could tomorrow be any worse?