Over the next few weeks, we spent a lot of time getting to know Harold. He was home almost all the time, which surprised me because I knew he had come to the States for a work assignment. The girls and I went to his house when all of his furniture and other items arrived so we could help him unpack.

"So, when exactly do you go to work?" I asked, while stacking towels into one of his kitchen drawers.

"Aaah, you've been misinformed, Ms. Gibson. I didn't come here to work. I'm actually a spy on a top secret mission for the British government," he said forcefully.

I whipped my body around to look at him, my mouth hanging open.

He started laughing a little crazily and then he said, "I'm just joking, Lise. I'm going to be supervising a five-year project at Stepworth. However, the project doesn't start until later in August. I moved here a little early so that I could get settled first. I'll be going to the office to get acquainted with my colleagues over the next few weeks, but the real work doesn't begin until late summer."

"Oh, that makes sense," I smiled, feeling a little sheepish about believing his spy story. "I have to admit that you could pass for a British spy, though."

He laughed loudly when I told him that.

We helped him load up his cupboards and closets with all his goodies. He had done a little grocery shopping, although I noticed his cabinets were still quite bare. He offered popsicles to Aurora and Grace, so I sent them outside to eat them, not wanting them to drip sticky juice onto his floors.

Harold left the room to retrieve more items to unpack. I placed Rachael in the baby backpack, then I squatted down to lift her onto my back. Then I fastened the straps so that her weight was resting on my hips. I kept unpacking and Harold came into the room, chuckling at the sight of us.

"How do you like it up there, Rachael?" I could hear her cooing while he talked to her. I loved that he was so friendly with my girls. It was refreshing to have a man in their lives, in addition to my father, who was actually interested in them and took the time to interact with them. 

"Would you like me to carry her so you don't get tired?" He offered.

"No, it's fine, really. I've built up quite the upper body strength, carrying all my girls around in this thing," I laughed. "If it gets to be too much, I'll let you know, okay?"

"Okay," he agreed. He turned to face me squarely. "You're a remarkable woman, Lise."

I bit my lip nervously. "I'm not sure why you'd think that, but thank you."

"You're so strong, physically and mentally. You're raising three girls on your own and you never complain. You are smart and funny and hard-working. And you're beautiful." He leaned over and kissed my forehead.

I was almost speechless, but I managed to mumble a small thank you. It's possible that he was just saying what was in his heart, not intending anything romantic, but the beautiful part and the kiss threw me a little.

I've never considered myself beautiful; maybe cute or pretty, but not beautiful. At only 5'2", it was hard to feel like a grown-up, even though I was already in my late 20's. My short, curly reddish hair, pixie face, and blue eyes made me feel like the eternal cheerleader, even though I never actually participated in cheerleading. I've always been fit, but I couldn't imagine someone thinking I was sexy. Sexy was a title that belonged to long-legged models with flowing black hair and olive skin, not a short white girl from Minnesota.

Eric used to say I was hot, but that's not even remotely like being called beautiful. Beautiful implies something much deeper, much more pervasive, like a beauty not only of body, but of spirit. The more I thought about it, the more I realized that Eric had only loved the external me because I was cute and fun-loving. I don't think he ever knew the real me, the woman inside. It's sad to say that, I know, since we were married for four years.

I didn't know how to respond so I just mumbled a thanks and continued unpacking. The girls came running in and yelled, "Mommy, we finished our popsicles!" I helped them clean their sticky fingers and faces. I was about to ask them what they'd like to do next, but Harold stepped in and asked, "Would you girls like to watch some cartoons?"

"Yeah!" They yelled in unison. I was sure they'd be occupied for a long time since Harold's television would seem like a movie theater to them.

I folded towels in silence, thinking about what had just transpired between Harold and me. Was I reading too much into it? Surely, he was well-spoken because he was an accomplished businessman and had to communicate effectively with many different people. Perhaps he was used to flattering people on a regular basis and thought nothing of the way he had just blown me away with his generous words. But I couldn't stop myself from thinking that he meant more and that maybe, just maybe, he was interested in me as more than just a neighbor.

But then, I wasn't sure how I felt about that either. He was such a spectacular guy. Who wouldn't jump at the chance to be with a good-looking, caring and kind person such as Harold? I just didn't know if I was ready for that kind of relationship yet, or if I'd ever be.

Of course, I was jaded by my experience with Eric, but that didn't turn me off to men in general. I had simply grown accustomed to our family the way it was, and I didn't necessarily need a man to step in and be my husband.

But I wanted my girls to have a father figure. Did that mean I should be open to a relationship for their sake? Of course, I didn't fully understand the reality of Harold's career yet. When he actually began working on his project, he might be missing in action as much as Eric was.

I knew I would drive myself crazy, going around and around about all of that, so I just decided to stop the rumination train. That was one thing I'd always been good at – stopping my thoughts in their tracks before they drove me insane. I would have to ponder some more about this later, but my mind was full for now. And I decided I wouldn't think worry any more unless it became clear that Harold was indeed interested in a romantic relationship.

A week or two had gone by since the awkward interchange in Harold's kitchen. We still spent quite a bit of time together, by our pool, eating meals together, and helping him get his house in order. There hadn't been another "incident" since then.

One evening, despite the thunderstorm brewing outside, I got the girls tucked into their beds and laid Rachael down in her crib right next to my bed. She dozed off quickly, but I felt like I needed to unwind after a busy day at work. I climbed into my bed, flicked on the TV and snuggled down into my comforter. I watched some late-night TV for a while and then I must have dozed off.

I was harshly awakened by the shrill sound of a siren blaring in my ears. The house alarm! Something – or someone – had triggered it. I wasn't sure what to do, since the girls were already screaming and I desperately wanted to comfort them, but I knew I had to find out if we were in danger. I quickly scooped up Rachael, raced across the hall and dropped her gently on Aurora's bed.

"Rory, I need you to watch the baby and keep your door locked until Mommy comes back to get you, okay?"

"Mommy, I'm scared!" She shouted.

"I know you are, lovey, but everything will be okay, I promise. Just do as I say! Keep this door locked!"

"Okay, Mommy," she said in her trembling, tearful voice.

I rushed out, locking the door from the inside and I took the key out of its hiding place. I grabbed the nearest heavy item I could – a lamp from a small table in the hall, and I cautiously approached the living room. I peered around carefully, trying to discern whether there was anything unusual lurking in the shadows of the living room. As soon as I reached a light switch, I flipped it on. I heard a siren in the distance, and I prayed it was the police, responding to my alarm, which was designed to send a 911 call to the police if it was ever triggered. I carefully made my way to the alarm panel and disarmed it, and only then did I hear the phone ringing.

"Hello, this is Judy from central dispatch. We have a 911 call coming from your house. Do you need assistance?"

"I...I don't know," I stuttered. "I don't know why the alarm went off. Yes, please send someone." I carefully crouched into the corner by the front door so that I would be able to see if anyone was in the house.

"They're on their way, ma'am."

The next thing I knew, there was a loud knock at the front door. I screamed involuntarily and then shakily stood up and looked through the window. It was Harold, holding a shovel in his hand.

I threw the door open and began sobbing like a maniac.

"Is everything all right?" He asked with wide eyes.

"I don't know," I sobbed. "I haven't checked the entire house and the police are on their way and the girls are screaming-"

He grabbed me by the shoulders and said firmly, "Lise! Go and take care of the girls and I'll have a look around."

I nodded and stumbled back to the girls' bedroom, clumsily opened the door and then slammed it and locked it right behind me. I collapsed on Aurora's bed and the girls climbed on top of me, sobbing and wailing. Rachael was screaming, so I picked her up and let her latch on so that I could comfort the other two.

"It's okay, it will be okay, girls." I said, my voice still shaking.

"Then why are you crying, Mommy?" Aurora asked.

"Just scared, that's all," I told them. It's going to be okay now, though. Mr. Styles is out there looking around and he'll make sure everything is safe, okay? Don't worry, loveys." I silently hoped that everything would be okay and that Harold would be careful. And I prayed to God that the police would show up soon.

I had the girls calmed down and drifting back to sleep, and Rachael was still nursing at my breast, a gasp or a sob interrupting her suckling once in a while, as she drifted off to sleep, I heard voices in the living room; I could hear Harold speaking calmly to another person, so I knew that the police had arrived. I didn't budge. I was still too stunned and I didn't want to disrupt the girls.

A few minutes later, I heard a light knock at the door.

"Lise?" It was Harold.

I gently laid Rachael down on the bed and the girls wrapped her in a cocoon with their bodies. I opened the door and let out a huge sigh of relief. Harold pulled me into his arms and held me tight for several minutes. I could hear his heartbeat, which seemed quite fast, but it slowed as he held me. We were interrupted by a voice asking, "Ma'am, can we talk with you for a few minutes?"

I sniffled and then pulled myself away from Harold. "Of course," I answered. I turned to find two police officers at the end of the hall in the living room.

"We didn't see any evidence of an attempted break-in, and we didn't find anything outside your home that would suggest that anyone was on your property."

"Did you check every room, and the basement?" I asked.

"Yes, ma'am. Everything looks secure. I'm sorry this was so frightening for you, but we believe you are safe."

"Why would my alarm go off for no reason?" I wondered.

He walked over to the front door and pulled on it; the door moved back and forth slightly within the frame. "See how this is a little loose? With the wind blowing tonight, the door could have moved enough to trigger the alarm. I would suggest that you invest in a new door or put a new deadbolt on it to secure it."

I nodded my head in understanding. "Okay." I just prayed to God that we would never have another alarm – real or false – again.

"In any case, ma'am, you did the right thing. You locked yourself in a room and waited for help to arrive." He didn't know I had gone looking around the house armed with a lamp just a few minutes earlier.

When the officer left, Harold took me by the shoulders again and looked at me with what almost seemed like anger in his eyes. "Don't ever do that again!"

"What?" I blinked, not understanding him at all.

"You heard the officer; you should never go looking for an intruder by yourself! Lock yourself in a room and wait for help to arrive."

I nodded now that I knew his concern. "I wasn't thinking, I guess, but I'll remember that."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to sound harsh. I was so concerned when I heard your alarm. I was so worried that something had happened to you or the girls." He pulled me in for another long, tight hug.

"Would you like me to stay the night?" He asked.

I didn't even think before answering, "Yes, please." I pulled away and said, "I guess I don't seem so strong and capable anymore, huh? I'm a wreck."

"Oh, Lise, this would be scary for anyone! Even my heart is still racing." He squeezed my hand and then continued. "So, not to be too forward, but would you like me to sleep on the couch...or in your room? I could sleep on your floor," he quickly added.

Now I was the one being forward, but I didn't care. "Will you hold me?"

He agreed and followed me to the girls' room, where I tucked Grace and Aurora into one bed together, and then I picked up sleeping Rachael so I could put her in her crib. She was still whimpering once in a while when I laid her down.

I slid into bed and Harold slid in the other side. I gulped and said, "I know this is kind of weird. I'm sorry if it's, like, inappropriate or something."

"Not at all," he said. "I'm happy to help." He enveloped me in his arms and I buried my face in his chest, enjoying the feel of his warm skin through his thin t-shirt.

Soon, my pulse calmed, my breathing slowed, and I drifted off to sleep, safe in Harold's arms.