Reaping Me Softly

Her mother saw through her makeup disguise, almost dropping a plate when Arianne walked in. “Honey,” her mother said, cradling Arianne’s face in her warm hands, “are you okay? You look like death warmed over.”

“I’ve seen road kill look better,” her father added.

“Not helping, Jim!” The scowl she threw at her husband could have scared an army of barbarians.

He let it slide. “It’s probably just a cold, Helen.”

“We thought Carrie just had a cold!”

Before her father could reply, Arianne interjected. “Relax, Mom. I’m fine, really. Just a little tired. Late nights and all that. I’ve been doing some research…” She hung her white lies to dry in the kitchen for all to see. Then the doorbell rang. “That’s probably Niko,” she said, glancing toward the front door.

“I’ll get it.” Her father strode out of the kitchen with shoulders squared, ready for battle.

“Who’s Niko?”

Arianne stepped out of her mother’s reach with the pretense of grabbing a glass of orange juice. “A classmate of mine. He’s taking me to the wake for Tammy’s mom.” Her voice hitched at the end of the sentence. “Are you coming?”

“I can’t, honey. I have to be at the hospital today.” Her mother returned to preparing breakfast. “I wish you would come with me. Just a couple of tests, nothing major. I want to nip whatever you’re coming down with in the bud.”

“Mom, really, I’m fine.”

“At least promise me that you’ll go to the hospital if you start to feel worse.”

Ears burning from wanting to hear what her father and Niko discussed out front, Arianne inched closer to the kitchen entrance. “No worries. I will,” she said casually.

“Ari, your ride’s here.” Her father reentered the kitchen with Niko in tow.

She stared. In such a resplendent suit, he resembled someone from a time when dressing before leaving the house mattered—handsome and dashing. Who needs breakfast when you can wake up to that? Arianne swallowed to keep her mouth from overflowing. He gave her a quick glance, concern and slight panic flitting through his expression before he bravely faced her mother.

“Good morning, Mrs. Wilson,” he said. “I’ve come to escort Arianne to the memorial.”

If Arianne didn’t know any better, she would have thought Niko was going to reach out and kiss her mother’s hand like in those historical romance novels she’d found stashed away behind all the coats in her mother’s closet. And her mother seemed like she wanted Niko to do just that. He certainly had the aura of a nobleman.

“Guys your age still say ‘escort’?” her mother asked, hand splayed over her chest.

“Only those with an excellent vocabulary,” he answered.

“And you have a car?” She gave Niko an appraising stare.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“You should see his Mustang, Helen. Worth drooling over,” her father said.

“Dad!” Arianne wanted to hide.

“Shall we, Ari?” Niko came to her side. “We wouldn’t want to be late.”

Arianne craved his hand, and as if he’d known her thoughts, he laced his fingers with hers.

“Mr. And Mrs. Wilson, it’s a pleasure meeting you,” he said.

“Give Carrie a kiss for me today,” Arianne said over her shoulder, allowing Niko to lead her out of the house.

“You two take care now,” her father called after them.

“Jim!”

Arianne drooped into the passenger seat, dead weight in the water. The moment she heard Niko close the driver’s seat door, she felt his arm reach across her and the seatbelt clicked into place, its fabric secure over her chest. Then his fingers trailed a now familiar path down her face.

“I’m so sorry,” he said.

“For what?” she sighed out.

“I don’t know what happened, but I intend to find out.”

Without opening her eyes, she reached for his hand and gave it a squeeze. “Thank you for coming with me today. I don’t think I could do it by myself.”

He kissed her cheek then started the car. The rumbling vibrations of the engine soothed her granny-knotted muscles. Fatigue refused to release her from its clutches. The gulp of juice she’d swallowed sloshed like the sea in her stomach. She wished she’d taken a bite of toast, but with the threat nausea posed, she doubted the bite would stay down.

After two lefts and a right down Maple, Niko said, “Are you sure you want to do this? I’d prefer that you stay home and rest.”

“Niko, I’m tired, not sick. And Tammy needs her friends with her right now.” Arianne turned her head until her cheek touched leather. The curtains of her eyelids rose, allowing her to study Niko’s profile. She caressed the side of his face, easing the tic on his jaw. “No frowning now. Although…”

“What?”

“Would it go to your head if I said you look really hot all brooding and dark?”

Like a magnet against the fridge, his gaze snapped onto hers. “Definitely.”

“Good.” She shut her eyes again and folded her hands over her lap. “How far away are we?”

“About ten minutes.”

The wheels switched from a steady hum on asphalt to the crunch of gravel. Arianne waited until Niko parked the car and opened her door before blinking. She met his gaze and still saw worry lines on his face. He tried to hide it with a smile as he helped her out of the car. She stumbled into his arms, and from then on, he held her closer than his heart, unwilling to let her go unless he was certain she wouldn’t fall.

They entered the little chapel that was filled to capacity. The Georgian summer that refused to leave kept the air-conditioning working double time. Still, many people fanned themselves. Arianne scanned the crowd and spotted Tammy sitting in the first row of pews. She wore a simple dress and wide sunglasses covered half her face. At the altar sat a black coffin with a spray of white lilies over the lid.

“Walk me up the aisle, will you?” She squeezed Niko’s hand on her waist.

“I won’t let you go unless you ask me to,” he whispered into her ear, sending the touch of feathers down her spine.

They navigated the crowd until they reached Tammy. She’d been sitting alone while her father and aunt mingled, accepting heartfelt condolences from anyone who’d come over to them.

Tammy stood and hugged Arianne the second they reached her. The sadness Arianne managed to hold back finally fell. “I’m so sorry, Tammy.”

“I’m glad you’re here,” Tammy sobbed out.

Both girls sat down without letting go of one another. They’d stayed that way while Niko stood by them like a knight ready to ask anyone who dared disturb them to leave. He was a quiet strength that Arianne drew from, his presence ever solid and real.

When the memorial ended and the casket was taken away, Arianne whispered her good-byes to Tammy and her family. Some of her fatigue had lifted, and she’d handled walking to the entrance of the chapel with the grace of a newborn foal. Niko still hovered close, tense and ready for anything. The poor guy must be exhausted, she thought. Oh, wait, not human.

By the double doors stood Ben, somber in his Sunday suit. For the occasion, he’d favored his hair combed away from his face rather than imprisoning the sandy locks in his signature baseball cap.

“Ari,” he said as he enveloped her with his body. “Niko,” he greeted over her shoulder.

“We haven’t formally met,” Niko said. “Nikolas Clark. It’s nice to meet you.”

Arianne felt Ben shake Niko’s hand more than saw it. She pulled away from Ben to face Niko. “Can Ben take me home? I really want to talk to him about something.” She hoped her eyes did the explaining.

Niko read the silent message she sent him. “Call you later?”

“Thank you.” She gave Niko a kiss on the cheek then turned to a slightly confused Ben. “Brought your truck?”