Her name was Hillary which supposedly meant "cheerful" and was the complete opposite of her personality. Standing at the roadside bus stop in the early morning, "dour" might be a way to describe her for as I passed her each morning.
It became apparent that Hillary was waiting for the bus to commute over the mountains to the city. What made this unusual was that Hillary the stuck out like a sore thumb. Standing a willowy five-feet-nine, her long straight whitish-blonde hair was sensibly clipped at her temples to frame her librarian-glasses, her gray-blue eyes, a straight but modest nose, and thin pink lips.
Her milky complexion and slender figure matched her school uniform that consisted of a plain button-down white blouse over a pleated light grey tartan skirt that precisely an inch above her knees. The final touch was thin white stockings that rose to midway up her shins and sensible oxford shoes. If she smiled, Hillary would have been pleasant looking in a girl-next-door kind of way, but this something she wasn't inclined to do.
From her distinctive school uniform, everyone knew that Hillary was a "Priory Girl" or a student of the very exclusive and extremely expensive all-girl academy. The middle-low income community that she lived in was mainly "brown" (Polynesian) and "yellow" (Asian). "White" (Caucasian) people like Hillary who were supposedly well off were far and few, and limited to small pocket of upscale homes deep in the valley.
While no one would molest a single white girl standing on the side of the road all by herself, they found it difficult to believe that one of the elite would stoop to use public transportation. They also weren't above staring, cat-calls, and dubious offers of assistance. This may explain why Hillary has a stern no-nonsense, don't-bother-me demeanor.
How I got to meet and know Hillary was due to a series of events and a random act of kindness. I was driving to work when I passed the bus that Hillary was waiting for and it was clearly very late. The sky was dark with rain and sporadic heavy drops fell on my windshield by the time I approached Hillary. There she was stoically standing there with her books held over her head in the face of the coming rain. It was obvious that she had not expected rain for she had no raincoat or umbrella. I could have just driven by but before I knew it, I pulled up along side of her.
"Miss," I called out to Hillary who seem shocked and leery of my sudden arrival, "your bus is late and several stops back. By the time it gets here, you'll be drenched. I know you don't know me from Adam, but can I give you a lift?" The distrust on her hardening face quickly gave me my answer.
"Okay...look...here take my umbrella," I said as I pulled my golf umbrella from the back seat and passed it through the window to her. "Come on, take it. Don't be stupid." Then pulling out my business card, I hastily scribbled my cell telephone on its back and handed it to Hillary who hesitantly held my umbrella. "Here's my card with my cell phone number. Call if you want to return my umbrella - if not, no problem. Are you sure I can't give you a lift? No...well...I don't blame you. Take care." As I merged back into traffic, I was pleased to see in my rearview mirror, Hillary opening my umbrella and looking at my card.
A couple of days had passed without a word from Hillary, and I was okay with the lost of my golf umbrella. It therefore came as a surprise to me when my cell rang, and I found Hillary on the other side. "Umm, I don't know if you remember me, but my name is Hillary. You loaned me your umbrella, and I'm sorry that I haven't returned it. But... ummm...it's been raining quite a lot, .and..."
When I told her that if she didn't have an umbrella that she should just keep it because we were in for a bad spell of weather. I said that she shouldn't worry about it since I had a lot of umbrellas, and I swear I could hear a sigh of relief over the phone.
There was an awkward moment of uncomfortable silence, and then Hillary said, "I'll be at the bus stop tomorrow morning at 6:15...ummm...could you...ummm...stop by? I'd like to give you something...ummm... if you don't mind..." I chuckled and said that I'd see her tomorrow morning before wishing her a good night and hanging up. Then for some reason, I saved Hillary's cell number in my phone.
The next morning I was waiting in my car just after the bus stop and saw Hillary coming out of the valley where she lived. Seeing me, she hurried in crossing the highway as I rolled down my passenger window. Hesitantly Hillary approached my open window and then handed me a Ziploc bag of cookies.
"I baked these for you last night... ummm...as a way of saying...ummm...thanks...for caring. Your umbrella has saved me more than once...although I don't know about today..."
"Look, Hillary," I said, "the weather report said that's going to pour with wind that will make the rain come in sideward. I know that you have no reason to trust me, but let me give you a lift into town. No strings attached. I work one block from the Priory and if anything, at least you'll get to school looking dry. Hey, if I do anything, you report me to the police since you've got my business card. So, what do you say? We can eat your cookies along the way."
I could see that Hillary was hesitant as to whether to trust me. Just then as if on cue, there was a sudden downpour and a gust of wind. As shocked Hillary fumbled to open her umbrella, I urgently pleaded, "Come on, get in before you get drenched!"
In a leap of faith, Hillary scurried into my front seat and slammed the car door shut. Immediately arranging her pleated skirt and brush back her hair from her face before taking off her glasses to wipe them. "Ummm, thanks, Milton...it is okay if I call you Milton, isn't it? You were right about the weather. I was only a minute in the rain, and I was nearly soaked."
A side glance at her show that her white blouse was translucently plastered against her upper torso, hinting of a white lacy camisole and bra. I turned on the heater and Hillary sighed as the warm air countered the chill of her wet clothing. Seen without her glasses, Hillary wasn't bad looking - a bit plain and definitely no beauty queen - but still not bad.
Between rush hour traffic, chocolate chip cookies, and my quirky humor, I managed to work my way into Hillary's confidence. Slowly she disclosed as a matter of fact that she was living by herself since her mother whom she described as "flaky" left her alone to traipse Europe with her current boyfriend. When I asked about her father, Hillary blushed and murmured that her Mom didn't bother to get married and until this day, wouldn't tell her who her father was.
Hillary then said that if it wasn't for her rich, old-money grandparents on the East Coast, she would be on her own. "My gramps and gram pulled some strings and got me into the Priority when I was little. Because they know how irresponsible my mom is, they provide me a living allowance since I'm their only granddaughter. When I graduated in a few months, they going to pay for her tuition, room, and board at Princeton to which I've already been accepted."
I shared with Hillary that I knew what it was like being alone. My parents had passed away some time ago, leaving me to pretty to fend for myself. I had worked my way through college and then law school. I had managed to pass my bar exams and to secure a position with an established law firm. The job entailed a lot of legal research, but it was considered part of paying my dues. I was always the first in and the last out of the office since I was the low-man-on-the-totem-pole. However, I didn't mind because I was single and unattached with lot of time on my hands and nothing better to do.
Our conversation ended on that note as I pulled to the curb to drop Hillary off. Then before I knew it, I casually said, "Hey, Hillary, if you need a lift - or someone to talk to - give me a call." A small smile graced her lips as she thanked me, looking a strange blend of surprise, uncertainty, and relief before she got out and closed the door.
I didn't hear from Hillary, and didn't I see her when I passed her bus stop. I figured that our encounter might have scared her so that she changed her routine. With a mental "oh well" I continued to go about my business, and was surprised when my cell rang late Friday night.
"Hi Milton, this is Hillary. I'm sorry to bother you..." There was an awkward pause until I asked how she was doing. "Oh...ummm... I got drenched in the last storm, but I didn't think it would rain so hard. Ummm, and, yes, I know I could have called you. But I didn't want to bother you."
When I urged her to continue, she whispered, "Milton, I'm sick - really sick. I've been running a fever and chills, throwing up, achy, and I'm kind of weak. I haven't been able to shake this. I think I need to see a doctor."
I asked about her health insurance, and Hillary said she was under her grandparents' health plan, but her pediatrician had retired before the start of the year. Her mom had said that if anything happened while she was away for Hillary to go to the hospital emergency room.
"Oh...I don't even have a way to get to the hospital. I thought of a taxi, but I wouldn't know what to do once I got there. Milton, you're the only person I could think of. Can you... please help me?"
