by Portia Gray
But not before kissing her forehead.
Then Quentin would go get Calvin from school, take him by the clubhouse for boxing or mechanical training, then they'd go out for supper because the smell of food in the house made her ill. Arielle would have a fitful night, eventually her body would be convinced that her stomach was, in fact, empty and therefore not the cause of poisoning. The next morning before Calvin was up she'd make it to the kitchen for a pot muffin, and then climb back into bed to let the weed work its magic. Then it would be one or two full days of some appetite before she had to start it all over again.
Three more treatments, she reminded herself once the house was silent around her and she couldn't hear Quentin's bike anyone. Then it would be almost Christmas, she'd be tired but not puking every two hours. She couldn't wait.
Quentin had even agreed to spend Christmas Eve at Thelma's with them. That was as close to a childhood home as Arielle got and she couldn't imagine Christmas anywhere else. And with Quentin coming along it was like…well, Christmas.
Arielle couldn't wait to get out from under this oppressive Portus Felix drama that Jolene had brought down on her. Christmas at Thelma's would take it away for a while and she couldn't wait.
She'd even found a gift for Quentin. Aside from a red and black nightie, she also got him something she hoped he wouldn't find corny. It was just a heavier silver chain with a Native American-style feather pendant. She didn't know why, but the second she saw it online she thought of him. It was masculine, and there was something about the way he wore a button down that required a manly necklace.
She had helped Calvin order his present online. He'd ordered Quentin his own copy of Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance. Arielle thought it was perfect, and she wished she'd been healthier otherwise they could have shopped. Quentin was Calvin's ride everywhere, he couldn't very well ask Quentin to take him to get his own Christmas gift. Arielle just had to be sure to be the first one to collect the mail when it was delivered, that was the tricky part.
She heard the mailbox, made herself get up and head to the door. Sure enough, the package was inside. She hid it under Calvin's mattress like they'd arranged and made her way back to her room and pulled out the box that had arrived two days ago, opening it and smiling at the feather pendant inside. Feeling some energy to get in the spirit of the season, she toddled to the kitchen and took the momentary surge of motivation to wrap the gift on the table.
Before she could store everything away another round of nausea hit. She managed to get the present hidden away in her underwear drawer before she had to get to the toilet right now and dry heave for about ten minutes.
Exhausted, she was just going to lie down for a moment then go clean up the kitchen.
But of course, she conked right out.
"Appreciate you helping, Charlie," Quentin mumbled, pulling off his helmet and storing it away with the one the kid wore.
"No problem," Calvin replied, easy going.
Quentin was nervous and in another world here. And it wasn't just the guilt of what had gone down with Jolene. It had been the realization of what was happening to him. How he was…fuck. Falling in love? Growing up?
He'd been surprised when Thelma had agreed to help him with the emergency Arielle/Calvin Contingency Plan. That broad was tough as nails, and flat out told him he got Arielle or Calvin hurt she'd lay him low, not caring how she had to do it. He noted she'd left out Jolene, but that was probably an honest oversight.
Calvin shoved open the shop door, ringing the bells overhead and cueing a leggy brunette who appeared almost out of nowhere, smile fixed in place. She was working on commission, and he knew it the second her smile stayed in place even while looking at him.
"Can I help you gentlemen with anything?" she asked, hands on the lit up glass case in front of her.
Calvin already had his nose to the glass, pointing. "Ooh, that's a nice one, Quentin."
Quentin offered his friendliest smile to the shop girl, then looked downward to see what shiny object had caught Calvin's attention. He barked out a laugh and grabbed the kid's shoulder to pull him back just as the woman put her hands to her chest. "Oh, congratulations," she breathed.
Quentin pulled Calvin back from that case and shook his head to the employee. "Nah, sorry. Not here for a diamond ring."
"Aunt Arielle would love that one!" Calvin was insisting.
Quentin leaned over, hands on both knees. "Diamond rings are for engagements. Like, asking a girl to marry you."
"So don't ask," Calvin returned. "Just give her something pretty."
"Jesus, Charlie," he muttered, straightening up. "You're supposed to be helping me here."
"She'd probably say yes," Calvin offered, like that was helping anything.
"Can I ask what you did have in mind?" the girl behind the counter asked, her smile warm but still professional. And when she looked at Calvin she was downright affectionate.
Quentin ran a hand over his hair. "Umm, I have no idea. This is a new world for me. I was thinking a necklace."
"Okay. Does your lady have a favorite gemstone?" Quentin blinked. "When's her birthday?"
Quentin looked at Calvin. "March," Calvin stage-whispered.
"Yeah. That's why I brought you along," he said, rubbing Calvin's head.
"Aquamarine is her birthstone," Legs said immediately, pointing to a case off the far wall. Quentin approached it while Calvin ran to it. "We have some beautiful settings in earrings, pendants, bracelets."
"It's really pretty," Calvin assured him. "Look at the color! It's like the color of her eyes!"
Quentin scanned the case, feeling himself smile. "You're right, Charlie."
"The pendants are cut in all different shapes. We have tear drop, princess cut, marquis cut—"
"Can I see that one?" Quentin cut her off, jabbing the top of the case.
Legs smiled warmly. "Good eye," she assured him, unlocking the back of the jewelry case. "These came in for Christmas. It's a journey pendant. Usually they just come with diamonds, but this year the gemstones became available as well."
He was half-listening. He didn't know why, but the second he saw those blue stones in their platinum-looking S-curve he could immediately see it resting under the hollow at the base of Arielle's throat. When Legs set the velvet box down on the case he leaned over, Charlie in front of him.
"What’d you think?"
"I think she's gonna cry."
Legs chuckled, clearly charmed. "It's a 24-karot white-gold setting, with four separate aquamarine stones, sized small to large, as you can see. It's modern while still maintaining a classic look."
Quentin was nodding, not even noticing anything else in the case. "Yeah, yeah. I think that's the one. Charlie?"
"It's perfect," he agreed, grinning up at Quentin. Then he turned that smile to Legs. "How much are the earrings for it?"
The lady's smile didn't falter. "The drop earrings for this necklace are two-hundred fifteen dollars." Quentin felt Calvin deflate.
"What's up, Charlie?" he asked, leaning over the kid again.
Calvin looked embarrassed. "If you got her the necklace I could get her earrings, that's what I thought. But I don't have enough."
The shop girl made a sound that indicated her heart was both breaking and enlarging because Calvin was so adorable.
"How about I get the necklace, and help you out with the earrings?"
"But—"
Quentin grinned and cut him off. "Chores, Charlie. That's how you pay me back. Mow the lawn. Help Aunt Arielle with stuff around the house. Yeah?"
"Okay!" Calvin agreed with a big, goofy grin. Quentin felt something in his heart constrict. "I have one hundred and seven dollars."
"Good work, Charlie," Quentin mumbled and straightened to nod at Legs. "Necklace and the earrings. Can I get them wrapped separately?"
She was already nodding. "Absolutely!"
Quentin ruffled Calvin's hair again. "Good job man, thanks for your help."<
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"Thank you," was Calvin's reply.
"And no more talk of engagement rings. You nearly gave me a heart attack, Charlie."
Calvin shrugged. "She loves you, and I think you love her. Isn't that what people do?"
Quentin's mind and body fell very still. "What?"
Calvin blinked. "Isn't that what people do?"
"What? Before you said that."
"She loves you and I think you love—"
"You think Aunt Arielle loves me?" He tried to sound casually interested. But really he was short circuiting.
"She told Thelma she does. I heard it."
Quentin caught sight of the shop girl, but she was keeping busy with wrapping paper and ribbon. "She told Aunt Thelma that?"
"She was crying. She might be a bit scared. But maybe she doesn't realize you love her, too. Maybe that's why she's scared."
Quentin swallowed, put his hands in his jeans pockets then pulled them out again. His heart was beating way too loud.
"You do love her, don't you Q?" Calvin pushed his new glasses up his nose.
Quentin felt the smile before he knew he'd made one. "Yeah, Charlie, I think I do."
"Good," Calvin decided on a nod. "So just say it and get married."
Quentin steered Calvin to the cash register with one hand on top of his head. "It ain't that easy."
Some of that familiar coldness slid into his chest, and the image of Jolene dead on the ground flashed through his mind again. Calvin's trusting gaze up at him made his head swim. He could try and tamp this down all he wanted, but that shit with Jolene was going to haunt him. And make him insane from the fear that Arielle and Calvin might find out.
"Grown-ups just have to make things harder," Calvin muttered, shaking his head like he was disappointed.
"Yeah we do," he agreed, digging his wallet out of his pocket. "If we go for root beer floats you gonna promise to keep Arielle's present a secret?"
Calvin nodded, eyes getting wide. "If we get French fries I might forget completely."
Quentin opened the front door, the silence of the house confirming that Arielle was likely sleeping. Calvin flopped on the sofa, opening his backpack to get started on his homework. Quentin hid both presents in the main bathroom under some towels in the small closet there. Arielle usually used the bathroom off their bedroom so he figured it would be safe for a while unless they suddenly had a huge towel emergency. Then he headed for the fridge to grab a beer, stopping when he saw the mess of wrapping paper, ribbons, scissors and tape on the table.
Arielle never left messes out. Panic gripped him and he rushed down the hall, checked the bathroom then opened his bedroom door. To his immense relief Arielle was rolling over under the blankets to face him, rubbing her eyes and smiling.
He exhaled, pulled himself together and crossed the room to drop to the floor next to her and take her hand. "You worried me, babe."
She frowned, yawning. "What? How?"
He kissed her knuckles. "Thought you fainted or something, the kitchen was all messed up."
She gasped. "Sorry, I had to lie down. I'll go clean it up."
He laughed and pushed her shoulder back down to the mattress. "Are you kidding? I'm not mad about the kitchen. I was worried."
"I had to wrap Calvin's present before you guys got home," she said softly, reaching out and touching his cheek.
Quentin nodded, kissing her hand again. "Keep sleeping. We already ate, Calvin's doing homework. Then it's just TV."
"Okay," she whispered, closing her eyes as he kissed her forehead.
"I'll bring you some more water, babe. Just rest."
"Thanks, honey," she called weakly as he left the room. How thin her voice was cut him to the quick, and he found himself anxious to get her out of Portus Felix for a while, away from treatments and all the shit he brought down on her.
Somewhere cosy and warm, somewhere that made her happy. He was really looking forward to Christmas at Thelma's.
"You're what?" Arielle gasped, bringing the sounds and motions of dinner to a halt with two words. Okay, it wasn't the words, it was the likely too dramatic way she said them. But still, Thelma's decree over a baked ham with potatoes and biscuits caught her totally unaware.
Thelma smiled, closing her hand over Arielle's. "It's time, sweetie. This place is getting to be a bit big for me."
Arielle's mouth opened, she couldn't form an argument, so she snapped it shut again.
"This new place is gorgeous," Thelma went on. "Green, rolling foothills. The Rocky Mountains in the distance. And honey, snow at Christmas." Thelma sighed. "I really miss snow at this time of year."
Arielle cast a look to Quentin, but he appeared more worried about her. So she went back to Thelma. "But, this is…this is the last childhood home I have Thelma!"
Thelma's mouth got tight. "Arielle, honey. We can't go back. You're not a child anymore, and you're making your own home for Calvin now. That's going to be home. And you can come see me whenever you like."
Arielle didn't miss the Talking To Children tone that Thelma gave her, and she knew she was behaving like a child. Hell, even Calvin looked kind of intrigued at the mention of snow. "How far away is it?" she couldn't help it, she sounded pathetic.
Thelma tilted her head with a smile. "It's just under four hours' drive, honey."
"Four hours?" she squealed. Now Quentin's hand was on her back, making circles, but she wasn't that consolable.
"I've always wanted to live there," Thelma said, picking up her fork again. "And now I'll get to."
Arielle felt a rush of selfish brat flow through her and she looked back to her plate, too. Part of her was scared to be losing Thelma; she seemed so far away as it was. But Thelma seemed excited at the thought of something new.
"Well, that's good then," she mumbled, obviously not entirely meaning it.
"Sounds like a nice place Aunt Thelma," Quentin offered, and Thelma smiled.
"And you're welcome to visit as well Quentin," Thelma offered.
"Will you keep the chickens?" Calvin asked.
"I think so. I like having farm fresh eggs."
"The goats?"
Thelma shrugged. "Not sure about the goats. They're a lot of work and you only get so much from them."
As Calvin further investigated how much of Thelma's menagerie was making the move to Colorado Quentin leaned in a kissed Arielle's temple in a sweet, soothing way. She had to grin at him and give his knee a squeeze under the table. He was worried about how upset she was.
Once Christmas Eve dinner was gone and cleared away, Arielle and Quentin offered to do the dishes, even though he was cranky with her being up and moving around. Quentin wanted her resting but she was too worked up.
"I don't think you understand," she said softly. "This is the last of the family Calvin and I have. I feel like the…foundation of my life is being eroded away under my feet."
Quentin sighed and pulled her into a hug. "Thelma's right. You're the adult now, not the kid. You're home for Calvin, so let's focus on that, babe. You get to make his home. That's pretty cool."
Her hands curled up the fabric of his shirt. "Yeah, I know. But…I feel like whining."
"You're very whiny when you're not feeling well," he noted. "Good thing you're cute or I'd get annoyed listening to it." She knew he was half-kidding so she poked him in the ribs. "Let's get the dishes cleared up. I think you need a few more tokes to mellow you out," he suggested.
She shook her head and grabbed the dish towel off the handle of the stove. "Controlled substances won't make me like this any more than I do right now. I have every right to be whiny."
"All right then," he muttered, and before she knew it he had her spun around, arm around her waist, hand at the back of her neck and his mouth pressed to hers. She didn't even have time to be startled, it felt too good.
They'd only fooled around a bit since her last round of treatments stopped. And there was no monkey business while she was undergoing chemo, that was for s
ure. Quentin was terrified of pushing her too fast too soon, and as much as it might have embarrassed her she missed…it. Sex. With Quentin. So when he kissed her like this her body's first reaction was to still, grow warm, and let herself melt. Which she did.
When he parted his lips from hers he was smiling. "There, that's better," he mumbled, kissing the end of her nose. "You done whining?"
Arielle inhaled sharply and found she had no interest in being pissed off. "Fine, I'm done whining," she admitted without much bite to it.
"You should be happy for your aunt, doing what she's always wanted," he scolded her, turning off the water rushing from the tap. "Not a lot of people have the guts to do that. Or the opportunity. And honestly, Arielle…" he took a deep breath, still not looking at her. "…I like that she's making a safe place, somewhat far away, but still, a safe place. If you and Calvin ever need to get away, that's…that's pretty damn far.Somewhere the club doesn’t even know where to find you…"
Arielle's body stilled, not only at his tone but at what he was saying. "Did something happen? With Reuben? Are…are we in trouble?"
He shook his head, still not looking at her. "No, you're not in trouble. But when shit gets dangerous in my life I hate having you close to it."
Those words should have worried and terrified her, but she felt a warm rush at that too. Her tummy went soft and she had to smile.
She stepped into his back, wrapping her arms around his tight middle. "I like that you care about us." He patted her hand, then turned around to hug her again. They'd never get the dishes done at this rate.
Quentin cupped her face with both hands. "I don't just like you, babe," he breathed.
Arielle felt her heart speed up. Something slid through his expression, something warm and content and completely foreign. A sweetness she hadn't seen before. "Quentin?"
His brow furrowed a bit. "I'm saying that…I…" he licked his lips and looked away. "Fuck," he whispered.
Arielle pressed a kiss to his cheek which brought his eyes to hers again. "Don't say it then," she advised softly. "I know, but…don't say it yet."