The Knight in Leather Armor

ch.31 Worrying about you

I drove to 16th and I, the Children’s hospital in Westwood. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t thinking about Harry’s weighty file or what that man had said about my father. My father didn’t have a clean record, but that man was right: he didn’t deserve what he got.  And I’m gonna do everything in my power to make sure Harry’s doesn’t face the same unwarranted ending.

There was a friendly grandmotherly woman at the head of the hospital desk.

She looked up at me and smooth wrinkles creased under her almond brown eyes, like cake batter dripping into a mold. 

“How may I help you, dear?” she asked softly.

“Hi, I’m looking for someone who does service work here” I answered as I looked around the ever-busy lobby of the hospital. There were young mothers with newborns, older men in wheel chairs, and the occasional scream of pain or terror of accepting death.

“What is his name?” she asked.

How did she know it was a he?

“Harry. Harry Styles,” I answered.

Her eyes light up.

“Oh, right this way!” she said as she took my arm and led me through a couple of “do not enter” passages.

I swallowed hard as I heard young babies crying in one of the rooms we passed.

“Oh, Harry is such a joy at the hospital! He lights up the children’s faces and- some of the nurses” she added with a wink.

I smiled sheepishly.

I trust Harry. He wouldn’t cheat. He wasn’t that kind of guy. He made that pretty clear to me these past few nights we’ve spent together. And I know it’s childish, but I didn’t want anyone else to have Harry as her knight in shining armor. But, I didn’t blame the nurses; they probably couldn’t help themselves to the sight of a tall, dark, and mysterious man in hard leather with hair as curly and fluffy as chocolate frosting.

“What does he do exactly?” I asked the woman curiously.

The images I had of Harry involved him with engines and wrenches, not exactly a stethoscope or a white coat, let alone around young children. Not that I wouldn’t mind seeing him in another uniform, beside his leather and besides the confederate soldier’s outfit. I thought back to when he told me: “I’ll be your doctor.” I knew he could heal me physically and emotionally, but I didn’t know he meant it literally.

The woman opened one last door. I saw Harry, leaning down on his knees tickling a little boy who was tugging at his chef’s hat. Chef’s hat?

She could obviously hear my thoughts because she started to clarify.

“He plays and bakes for the kids and the staff. He finished his service work ages ago, but we can’t get him to leave- not that we ever want him to” she sighed happily and patted my shoulder kindly.

I smiled as Harry picked up one kid in each arm while another one climbed his back. The little boy on his back pulled teasingly at his hair, mixing up his already perfectly chaotic curls.

Another little boy crept up close behind him and tied the laces of his boots.

I went up to warn him, but that only made things worse because he saw me and wanted to come to me.

“Angela?” he called as he saw me walking toward him. He took a stride forward and nearly fell flat on his face.

“Need some help?” I asked as I reached out a hand.

But he somehow already managed to catch every single kid and gently settle them back on their feet.

“What are you doing here, Angie?” he asked slightly hesitantly, like he didn’t want me or was afraid of me seeing him here.  He re-tied the laces of his boots, and then stood up to his full height.