The Sweet Under His Skin (60 page)

Moving in with Quentin had been a smooth transition. As expected, Calvin was on side with that plan as soon as Arielle asked the question. Aunt Thelma had taken more convincing. To Arielle's surprise Quentin had taken the phone from her during that conversation and disappeared out onto the patio to chat. When he came back in and handed the phone over Thelma seemed convinced.

"It may be a scary situation," Thelma told her, "but in spite of all that, I trust him to take care of you guys."

Arielle still had no idea what Quentin had said to change her aunt's mind. She decided to believe it was magic. Some things didn't need explaining.

Calvin's bed made the trip over, and so did Arielle's kitchen table. The rest of the furniture was in storage, to be sold or used somewhere else. Whatever would be would be, and that felt like a good decision, too.

By the time they'd pulled into Quentin's driveway Arielle could feel the sick coming on. They had this down to an art by now; Quentin would help her to the bathroom, then leave her be while her stomach emptied itself, trying to placate her confused body which was just trying to figure out where all these toxins were coming from.

While she was doing that he was drawing the blinds in the bedroom and running the air conditioner to cool the place down because she always had the sweats after being sick. He'd put ice water by the bed along with a pail for the next time she had to puke.

Once she was cleaned up she was a weak, shaking and miserable mess. He'd come into the bathroom, scoop her up in his arms and carry her to bed. The sheets would be wonderfully cool as he tucked her in, then he'd shut off the AC because the noise bothered her. He'd leave her alone, shutting the door behind him and getting out of the house so she had a few hours of quiet.

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."

"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."