The Poem

by

Jafry
(Jafry D@aol.com)

Ms Fine knocked at Maxwell Sheffield's office door. Today she had got up a little later than usual and there for she had missed the family breakfast. Nevertheless she wanted to say 'good morning' to everyone and Mr. Sheffield was the last one on her list.

She was a little bit disappointed as she entered the office and didn't find him. She already wanted to leave the room but a dry rose lay on the desk, catching her attention. Surprised she went over to the desk to have a more precise look at it. The rose lay on an nicely decorated folder. She took it carefully and smelled at it, but the rose was too old to spread her sweet smell.

Nanny Fine sighed.

Under the rose appeared the name Maxwell B. Sheffield, written in affectionate letters. She stroked her hand tenderly over the already faded folder. She knew she hadn't the right to look inside, but everything that referred to him seemed to be magic. There she stealthy opened it. To her surprise she determined some memories of his deceased wife Sarah and their children, photos, pictures, letters.

She had never thought that he was so sentimental. It always seemed that he tried to do everything to repress such emotions. She sighed a second time. Those moments with him were the nicest. If he allowed himself to show such feelings. Even if she brought him to white heat.

Between all these collected pieces she particularly noticed a poem. It was written on special paper, a kind of papyrus maybe with the same elaborate writing as the name on the front of the folder. There was no title but it seemed to be a love poem to Sarah. She hesitated slightly, then began to read. She was already spellbound by the first words. It was written so yearningly and full of love. It overflowed with romantic. It would be too exaggerated and slushy for a lot of people but not for Ms Fine.

She took it so much to heart that she didn't noticed as tears began to run down her cheeks.

She had almost reached the end of the poem, a great sob rising in her throat, as the angry voice of Mr. Sheffield took her back to reality.

"Ms Fine!" He stood at the door, his hands angrily pressed against his sides.

"Mr. Sheffield" she stammered. "I ..." She didn't know what to say. She simply stood there, the rose in the one and hand the poem in the other.

With three energetic steps he stood opposite her in front of the desk. He snatched the poem out of her hand.

"What do you think you're doin' ..." he shouted angrily. "I leave the office only for a second and ..." He looked at her full of expectation. But as she tried to apologize, he interrupted her. "I don't want to her anything. You ... you..." His hand moved typically to his temple.

"Mr. Sheffield, I'm so sorry. I know, that I ..." she tried subdued.

"That you what? Hm, what?" still looking angrily at her.

Now he really scared her.

"I'm so sorry" she could only whisper again.

Maxwell Sheffield tried hard to calm down. He closed his eyes and his hand moved slowly over his face. With a strange voice he said:

"Get out, Ms Fine!"

"Mr. Sheffield, sir?"

"Go!" His stretched out arm indicated the door.

She closed the folder and put down the rose. Tears shot into her eyes as she left the office. She closed the door quietly.

As Ms Fine passed him with tears in her eyes, he knew he had overreacted. He looked down at the rumpled piece of paper in his hand and immediately regretted what he had said:

"You're the bloody greatest idiot in this whole city, Maxwell Sheffield!"

He turned on his heels to follow Ms Fine.

Niles stood outside in the hallway. He watched a bitterly crying Nanny Fine pass him and run through the living room up to her own room. He wanted to ask her at first what had happened but it was definitely the wrong moment. His heart was always broken when he saw her in such situations. If he only knew what had happened between her and his boss.

Suddenly the office door was flung open and Mr. Sheffield rushed out of the room, almost running into Niles.

"Oh Niles, old man. Good you spied on us. You have to help me. Would you ..." he hesitated and thought about it.

" ... go upstairs and have a look at Ms Fine?" Niles ended the sentence. He looked in the face of his boss. His eyes expressed regret and ... shame.

"No, Niles. I Have to do it" he answered determined.

Mr. Sheffield crossed the living-room and took every second step of the stairs. Actually he stood in front of Fran Fine's door a little bit out of breath. He took two deep breaths and knocked on the door. He waited but didn't get an answer. He knocked a second time and listened, his ear close to the door. He could hear quiet sobbing from inside. He collapsed and leaned his head against the door. What had he done?

"Ms Fine, please ..." He didn't know, how to start. "I ... I am terribly sorry. I have overreacted once again."

He searched for the right words and started to go up and down in front of her room.

"It was all my fault. I ... I had to lock in the folder. The contents are very private and ... I was afraid of ..." He stopped and started to massage his temple. Just what should he say? He didn't notice Ms Fine watching him through the crack in the open door as he racked his brain.

As he turned around he looked straight in her weepy face. He was speechless. Even how she stood there, she was incredibly wonderful, unbelievable. This adorable woman was the love of his life.

"Why are you always scared of showing your feelings. You ... you're a such wonderful man and ... what's so bad about a love poem to your lovely wife?" she asked, still sobbing.

"Nothing at all." He looked down at the rumpled piece of paper in his hand and tried to smooth it.

"It's because ..." He said with a deep breath: "It isn't about Sarah. It ... it's describing my feelings about ... my nanny!"

Fran moved her hands to her mouth. She looked at him with bright eyes. His hazel eyes looked shyly up and were locked in her brown ones.

"I was afraid, 'cause ... I needed so much time to admit my feelings. For to long, i have felt guilty about that and ..."

Fran closed his mouth with her fingertips. She knew what he was trying to say. He didn't have to say more.

But one thing he wanted to say, he had to say. He took her hand and kissed her fingers.

"Ms Fine ... Fran, I love you!"

He gave her his poem and in the last line she read the words that he had just spoken and that she had been waiting for for so long.

And so I admit to myself, what I already knew long ago at the bottom of my heart:

Fran, I love you!"

The tears shot into her eyes again, tears of happiness.

"Oh, Maxwell. I love you with every beat of my heart and always will."

His eyes gleamed with love, luck and relief, just as Frans did. He stepped close to her, enjoying the heat of her body, the smell of her hair, the look in her lovely face. He embraced her and his lips reached hers in the most passionate kiss with all the love in it that he had tried to describe in his poem. Fran answered this kiss with all the love that she had been feeling for such a long time for him.

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