“The movie only has about twenty minutes left.” She pointed to the kid and made doe eyes. Pouted those red lips. Was she attempting to coerce him with feminine wiles?
He was immune. “Fine.”
She released her grip on his arm. “As soon as it’s over, I promise you can have the remote.”
“Thank you for your permission.”
She fetched something from her purse that lay on the couch. “Here. It might make the cartoons more tolerable.”
Whatever it was, she held it behind her back with excitement, like an owner does with their dog’s treat. He refused to perform tricks for her.
Then, like a game show model, she presented a box of Reese’s Pieces. “You used to snack on them while we studied. Are they still your favorite?”
She was the sweetest thing he’d ever met. “They are.”
“Good.” Arianne returned to the floor.
He broke open the box and snacked while he watched animated sea creatures in HD. There had to be a football game or girls’ volleyball match he was missing somewhere.
Bored, he stole a glance at Arianne. Her navy blue sweats were folded cross-legged. White threads dangled from the bottom of her thin Warrior’s Hockey T-shirt. He was becoming quite a hockey fan. She squinted behind the nerdy glasses she’d slipped on and sketched subtle lines along her paper, tilting her head from side to side after each stroke. A #2 pencil was the only thing holding up her messy bun. He zeroed in on her top teeth brushing her full lower lip.
Huck cleared the gravel from his throat and shifted away. “Uh… So, what’s going on with this blue fish?” He pointed to the screen. “Does she have Alzheimer’s or something?”
Arianne laughed. “Short-term memory loss. She’s helping the clownfish find his missing son.”
“The clownfish who can’t tell jokes. Funny.”
“Mommy?” Emma sliced a plastic hairbrush through her doll’s hair. “Is my daddy looking for me?”
Arianne’s head jerked up. Her cheeks paled, and any spark of joy she’d had earlier vanished. She swallowed. “I don’t know, sweetheart.”
“What if he can’t find us now that we’ve moved?”
Arianne lifted her eyes to the ceiling as if the answers were written there. “If Daddy wants to find us, he will.”
Baby sea turtles covered the screen, recapturing Emma’s attention. Arianne closed her eyes for a few moments. Her shoulders rose then fell. She glanced his direction before returning to her sketch.
The grief in her eyes punctured him. He knew she was divorced but didn’t realize they’d been abandoned. Arianne deserved better than that. And no child deserved to grow up without a father.
The movie continued to play while he considered her ex-husband. Emma cheered when the father-son fish team united. Huck cheered that it was over. Now for some ESPN.
Emma brought him the remote. First the pop, now this? What else could the kid do?
Arianne told her to clean up the toys. Emma collected them in a small, pink suitcase with only half a picture of a Barbie left on the front. “Did you like the movie, Mr. Huck?”
He opened his mouth to answer as an air bubble rumbled through his chest and out his mouth. Emma giggled.
Arianne looked at him over the frames of her glasses. “You are such a Neanderthal.”
“Thank you, but I prefer the term chrome-magnum man.”
“It’s cro-magnon. Their skeletal remains were found in caves in southern France. Scientists say they had long heads, broad faces, and sunken eyes.” Arianne cocked her head. “Come to think of it, I do see the resemblance.”
Who but Arianne would retain that useless information after all these years? “Be careful, Arianne. You’re inner nerd is showing.”
“I’m compensating for your inner dunce.” She laughed, a sweet giggle contrary to her current geeky image.
Emma curled her fists on her hips. “Are you guys fighting?”
“No, pumpkin, we’re teasing. Tell Huck goodnight.”
The kid walked to his chair. “G’night, Mr. Huck. When can I see your bees?”
“Tell you what. As soon as I’m able to get around better, I’ll give you and your mom a tour of the whole farm.”
Her mouth formed an O. “Can I watch you make honey, too?”
“I don’t make the honey. The bees do that. I just bottle it and sell it.”
The skin on her forehead puckered. “Do you squeeze the honey out of them?”
“What? No. Bees collect nectar and pollen from flowers. Then they take it back to their hive where they make the honey. When it’s ready, I remove it from the comb.”
“Like the kind you use for your hair?”
“Good grief, kid. Don’t you ever go outside?”
Her shoulders dropped. “Not much.”
He looked at Arianne.
“We’ve lived in the apartment above the shop for the past few years. The only place to play outside is the park across the street, but it’s nothing to speak of.”
The kid inched forward and wrapped her arm around his. She snuggled her head in the crook of his neck. “Thank you, Mr. Huck, for letting me play outside while we’re here.”
He stiffened. Her damp hair held the lingering scent of strawberry shampoo. “Uh…sure, kid, anytime.”
She released his bicep and strangled her doll with her elbow. “Can we get a swing set?”
“All right, Emma, that’s enough questions for tonight. Let’s get you tucked in.”
As Emma trudged away, Huck noticed that her tiny pajama pants ended four inches above her ankle. Her shirt was snug too. He’d worn clothes as a child in similar condition. At least Arianne was trying.
They disappeared to their side of the house. The room was estrogen-free. He already breathed easier. Craving normalcy, he flipped through the channels on TV. He wasn’t sure how to handle all the female emotions ricocheting off the walls. There was nowhere to hide where he wouldn’t get hit.
When Arianne returned, she cleaned up her things while he caught the last inning of a Cincinnati Reds’ game. Half an hour later, she helped him to bed. Her fire was gone.
“Good night, Huck.” Her voice sounded robotic. She pulled the blankets up to his chest.
“Night.”
The light vanished and she closed the door behind her. He turned toward the window. A full moon brightened the darkness. He thought about Arianne and the kid living alone, struggling. He didn’t know the pressures of being a husband or a father and never would. But a man would have to be loco to abandon those two.
~*~
Rain trickled down the kitchen windows. Arianne looked past the rivulets into the gray, clouded sky. Puddles collected in the yard, and the splash of water played the most beautiful music. Thunder rolled in the background so lightly it was barely distinguishable. She loved an afternoon storm.
“You sure you know what you’re doing?” Huck’s voice broke her reverie.
“I’ve never been to beauty college, but I can manage a trim. I cut Emma’s hair all the time.” She grabbed the scissors and a fine-toothed comb from the kitchen counter.
He shifted in his wheelchair. “Where’d she take off to anyway?”
“Napping.” Arianne fought a yawn. Her daughter had the right idea. She dampened Huck’s hair and began to cut. His thick locks were soft against her fingers. The masculine scent of his soap followed her in every direction.
Huck squirmed.
“If you don’t sit still, I’m going to mess up.”
“I can’t help it.”
“What’s wrong?”
“My leg itches.”
She snipped another lock then stared at his cast. “I think I can fix that.”
She put the scissors and comb on the counter, pulled several bags of frozen vegetables from the freezer, and spread them on his cast.
“What are you doing?”
“Cooling the skin helps relieve the itch. Skin cells grow continuously and die as they nea
r the surface. On a normal basis, the outer layer rubs off on clothing or while you bathe. Under a cast, they’ve nowhere to go.”
His brows arched. “I don’t get it.”
“Which part, genius? The skins cells growing or dying?” She continued to trim his hair.
“I understand that part, Yoda. What I don’t get is why you quit medical school to be a bridal consultant. You’re so good with this stuff.”
Arianne sheared the hair around his left ear. “I never wanted to be a doctor.”
“Then why did you go to medical school?”
She switched to the other side. That familiar fear of disappointing her father crept into her chest. “To please my dad. He’d been saving for it since the day I was born.”
He grunted. “He always did dictate your every move.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothin’,” he mumbled.
She used to feel that way too, but ever since her father’s unexpected death in the line of duty, she’d wondered if he’d known what was best after all.
Arianne finished trimming Huck’s hair then lathered his face and neck, avoiding eye contact. She turned on the tap and rinsed her hands, letting the hot water build steam in the sink. She thrust his chin toward the ceiling and ran the razor upward along his neck.
“What happened with the kid’s dad?”
Brave man to ask that when she held a razor so close to his jugular. “What’s your sudden interest?”
“Just curious.”
She swiped another path through the white foam.
“What happened?” His Adam’s apple bobbed.
She ran the razor through the hot water stream, the temperature icy compared to her rising anger. “He left us. In the middle of the night. We went to bed together, and the next day he was gone. Left everything behind—clothes, car, us. Found a note saying he’d never be back.” She looked away. “The only promise he ever kept.”
Inhaling, she worked on removing the hair on his cheeks. “Is that what you wanted to hear?”
“No, it isn’t.”
Their gazes collided. Compassion flowed from his eyes and soothed her temper. Blast it, she was weak.
Arianne focused on her task, shoving away memories as stormy as the weather. “Emma’s a great kid. She doesn’t deserve what she’s ended up with.”
Truth be told, she didn’t deserve Emma.
“Why did he leave?”
“Emma had colic until she was six months old. She screamed around the clock, but it got worse at night. I don’t think that’s why he left. I think it just pushed him to leave sooner.”
“How long were you married?” His deep timbre vibrated the blade in her hand.
She rinsed it off and started on the other side. “Three years. I met Adam in a coffee shop in Cambridge while he was on furlough from the Air Force. I guess I got a little carried away by the uniform.”
Loneliness she never allowed to consume her took over, and the words spilled out before she could stop them. She hadn’t spoken Adam’s name aloud in years. “We had a courthouse wedding and immediately conceived Emma. Dad was furious and refused to continue paying my tuition. But I didn’t care. I was in love. So I quit school to be the wife my husband needed and ran him off in the process.”
“Why weddings then?”
Her eyes grew misty. “I’d like to believe it’s never too late for a happy ending.” She concentrated on the last patch of facial hair to keep the tears from falling. “Leg feeling better?”
He nodded.
She rinsed the razor and patted his face and neck with a hand towel. Huck slid his hand into hers and gave her fingers a gentle squeeze. His calloused thumb rubbed circles on her knuckles. The tender gesture zinged electricity up her arm, shocking her to her toes. Lighting struck outside and thunder shook the house.
Arianne pulled away as rain pelted the windows. “I…I need to check on Emma.”
She left the room.
Royal jelly is a high-protein substance fed to the young queen, which she will eat for the rest of her life. When ingested by humans, it helps to strengthen the immune system and balance hormones naturally.
13
On Sunday morning, Arianne plunked a steaming mug of black coffee in front of Huck. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and inhaled the strong brew as he raised it to his lips. Dare he ask what she was serving for breakfast?
He glanced at the plate she carried toward him. Syrup dripped from three stacked waffles next to a golden pile of scrambled eggs. She placed the food on the table and went back to the coffee pot to pour herself a cup—in his favorite mug.
Icy fingertips touched his wrist. “Don’t worry, Mr. Huck.” Emma’s whisper was loud enough to be heard in the next room. “They’re frozen waffles.”
Huck winked his thanks.
“I heard that.” Arianne piled food on her own plate. As she swayed across the kitchen, her yellow skirt swished around her knees. Tucked in at the waist, her white dress shirt was rolled up to her elbows, and her hair covered her shoulders.
“You didn’t have to get dolled up just to serve me breakfast, darlin’.”
“Don’t flatter yourself. I’m dressed for church.” She sat in the chair across from him.
He chewed a bite of buttery waffle.
“Are you going to church with us today, Mr. Huck?” Emma popped scrambled eggs into her mouth then made a funny face.
“‘Fraid not, kid.”
Her bottom lip pooched. “Why not?”
Why not? He hadn’t set foot in a church in years, that’s why. Not since he was eight and Mom had him sneak into the church’s office to steal the money from the collection plate while she’d kept the reverend occupied. “I don’t have any proper clothes that will fit over my cast, and I’m sure they wouldn’t want me showing up in my pajamas.”
Emma swallowed a sip of milk. “They won’t care. The kids that come on the church bus wear their pajamas. It’s real fun. We sing songs and learn about Jesus. And after the lesson we have juice and cookies.”
“Thanks for the offer, kid, but not today.”
Arianne stared at him from across the table, mouth in a straight line, eyes speaking something he couldn’t quite hear. What he needed was peace and quiet to kick back and watch a ball game instead of cartoons or chick flicks.
Arianne flipped over the book she had spread on the table to hold her place. Emma picked at her food and wiggled in her seat, shaking her head from side to side, humming a tune Huck didn’t know.
He drank his remaining coffee. What had ever possessed him to let these two invade his home?
~*~
“Go, go—ugh, come on!” Huck cursed at the TV. “We need a goalie not a ballerina!”
Gravel crunched outside. Through the window, he spied Arianne’s car pulling up the driveway. Great. Now he’d have to keep it down. He wasn’t in the mood for another lecture on why he had to watch his mouth around the kid.
A few minutes later, the door opened, and Emma ran toward him with a grin. “I made something for you at church, Mr. Huck.”
She brought a piece of paper from behind her back. He glanced at Arianne who nodded as she slipped off her heels and closed the front door. He took the gift and turned it over to see the other side.
A crayon stick-figure lay on a narrow gray strip. A decent attempt at a motorcycle blended into the green bushes, and blue waves had been drawn by the road. It didn’t take a genius to know this was him. The scene looked exactly like the crash site. How did she know what it looked like if she hadn’t been there? Had she seen the footage on the news?
Yellow scribbles hung in the cloudless sky. She’d done so well with the rest, and she couldn’t draw a circle? “That’s a nice sun.”
Emma pointed at the yellow blob. “It’s not a sun. That’s God. He’s watching over you.”
Arianne walked up and placed a hand on Emma’s shoulder.
When he didn’t respond, the kid continu
ed. “Today we learned about how God watches over His children. Miss Hannah said that God is always looking down on us, so we should always behave.”
Oh, not her too.
“She also said that God protects His children from harm.”
Did she think he hadn’t been harmed? All she had to do was look at him.
He stared at the picture, unsure what to say. Unsure how he felt.
“I believe Huck likes it so much he’s speechless.” Arianne kissed Emma’s head. “Why don’t you go wash up for lunch?”
Emma skipped away, humming.
Arianne sat on the arm of his recliner, facing him. “Now that I know how to keep you quiet, I’ll have her draw you pictures all the time.” She smiled. “What’s on your mind?”
Her light perfume hung in the air between them.
“You guys really buy into all this religious stuff?”
A groove formed between her brows. “What do you mean?”
“Do you really believe there’s some supreme being we can’t see controlling everything that happens?”
“I believe in God if that’s what you’re asking.”
“Why?”
“Why not?”
He muted the TV. “Let’s pretend God exists.”
“I don’t have to pretend that God exists. I know He does.”
“If He’s so great and loving, then why does He allow horrible things to happen to people? Why am I like this? Why did He let your husband leave you?” Why did Giada die?
She smoothed her skirt. “There is a purpose to all things under heaven.” Arianne sighed. “I don’t have all the answers, but I believe bad things happen sometimes to teach us a lesson, or to keep us from something even worse later on. It may be a consequence of our sin, and sometimes it’s solely because people have freewill and choose to do wrong things. Each person’s case is different, I guess.”
She sounded just like Uncle Marty.
The tiny hairs on his neck bristled. He rapped his palm against his cast. “You believe this happened to teach me a lesson?”
Arianne shrugged. “Maybe. I know one thing. God was watching over you that day.” She pointed to the picture. “He has a plan for you, Huck.”
How to Charm a Beekeeper's Heart Page 9