Beauty From Love (6 page)

“Grr,” I groan. “I’m not going to fall but I may very well explode if you don’t get out of here.”

“You get one minute but you’d better call for me if you feel shaky. Got it?”

“Yes! Get out.” I sound hateful—I don’t mean to—but the wretchedness engulfing me is to blame.

The minute I hear the door shut, I’m finally able to relax enough to empty my bladder. And then it starts—the heaving, followed by the vomiting.

My eyes are still shut but I hear Jack Henry open the bathroom door. “You okay?” I heave loudly and I’m guessing he interprets that as a negative because he’s by my side with a cool, wet cloth to the back of my neck. “What do you think is wrong?”

“I don’t know. I guess some kind of virus since I have a fever.” Even after vomiting, I don’t dare open my eyes because I don’t want to get started again. “Damn. This happened fast. I don’t remember ever feeling so bad in all my life.”

I’m sickened further when I realize I won’t be able to attend Christmas with my new family. “No way I can go to your parents’ tomorrow.”

He rubs my back. “You don’t have to make that call right now, but I’ll bet you’ll probably feel much better by tomorrow.”

He isn’t getting it. “I have a fever, so that means I’m probably contagious. Even if I feel better, I can’t expose the family to whatever this is—especially the kids.”

“You’ve been really tired and now you’re throwing up and dizzy. Could you be … ?”

He doesn’t finish but I know what he’s thinking. I hate bursting his bubble. “Pregnancy doesn’t make you feverish.”

“Unless you’re pregnant and you have a virus.” Is he seriously wishing a pregnancy on top of this? I look up at him and my expression must convey my thoughts. “Don’t look at me like that. You were right there with me on that bathroom counter the night before the wedding. It could’ve happened. Plus, it’s not like we’ve been incredibly consistent in the birth control department lately.”

I want to ask whose fault that is but I keep that comment to myself. “My period should start anytime.”

He’s rubbing my neck. “Want to try to go back to bed?”

I’m minimally better so it seems a good idea. “Yeah. I think I’m finished for now, but give me a minute. I’ll let you know when I’m ready for you.”

He sighs, a sign he doesn’t appreciate my need for privacy, but I don’t care. I have business to tend and it doesn’t concern him. And I’m very glad I asked him to leave when I see the blood after I wipe. Talk about being on cue—my period has arrived so we won’t have to wait to know I’m not pregnant.

Seeing the evidence of what I already knew leaves me unsettled. I didn’t believe I was pregnant but I think I might have hoped, maybe somewhere deep in the back of my mind, that we had conceived. Is this disappointment I’m feeling?

I come out of the bathroom once I’m finished and he’s instantly by my side, helping me to the bed. “I started my period just now.”

“Oh.” I hear his disappointment and I’m not sure how to respond. Saying I’m sorry doesn’t feel right and neither does telling him we’ll try. The truth is that I’m not sure what I want. I only know I love him and want nothing more than to please him, but do I agree to have a baby when I’m uncertain because I want to make him happy? How can that be best for our marriage?

I told him I’d think about a baby—and I will—but not now. I don’t have it in me to do anything but climb into our bed and fall fast asleep.

It’s becoming clearer as the hours tick by that L and I will not be spending Christmas at my parents’ house as planned. I had hoped she would make a miraculous recovery so we’d be able to make it, but we’ve no such luck. If anything, she’s sicker.

I hate waking her again but it can’t be good for her to go so long without drinking. “L.” I lightly shake her shoulder. “Love, you’re going to get dehydrated if you don’t drink something else.”

She slowly wakes following a second shake. “I brought you some fresh water.”

She closes her eyes. “I don’t want anymore. I’ll throw up if I put anything in my stomach.”

I nudge her again. “Please try. Would you rather go to the hospital and get an IV?”

She puts her hand over her eyes. “I’m too sick to get up and go to the hospital.”

Even sick, she tries to be funny. “I can manage getting you there if it’s what you need.”

She sighs, or maybe huffs is a better word. “Fine. I’ll drink the damn water but bring me something to puke in. There’s no way I can run to the bathroom when it decides to come back up.”

I place a couple of pillows against the headboard and help her to a sitting position. She takes the glass from my hand but I don’t release it because I’m afraid she’s too weak to maintain her grip. “I’ve got it.” I’m not convinced but I let her take it anyway. “What time is it?”

I look at the clock. “Almost two. How do you feel?”

“I’m still weak but I think I feel better than I did this morning.” It’s small, but she takes a drink and it doesn’t immediately come back up. “We’re missing Christmas. Is Margaret terribly upset?”

Very much so, but there’s no way I’m telling L that. “She’s disappointed but understands it isn’t your fault you’re sick.”

She brings the glass to her mouth and takes another sip. “I think it’s a twenty-four hour bug or something since I’m feeling better.”

She has no idea how relieved I am to hear that. “I’m glad because I really considered gathering you up and taking you to the hospital.”

She isn’t too sick to give me her
oh hell no
look. “I think you know that wouldn’t have gone over well with me.”

She better figure out nothing will stop me from taking care of her. “It doesn’t matter when it comes to your well-being.”

“Good thing I’m better, then.”

“Think you’re good enough to open your Christmas present?”

She smiles and I’m reassured for the first time that she may actually be feeling better. “Absolutely.”

I’m excited like a little kid. “Be right back.”

“No. I want to come to the living room.”

“Sure you feel well enough?”

“I won’t be dancing a jig but I’m good enough to make it to the couch.” She slides to the edge of the bed. “Give me a quick minute to freshen up and I’ll meet you on the couch.”

She’s changed and freshened, looking quite different from the person I was so worried about twelve hours ago. She’s sitting on the sofa waiting for her gifts, and I can’t stop myself from wondering what her previous Christmases were like.

I remember last year. I found her alone when I drove from Sydney to Wagga Wagga and brought her home with me to Avalon—after Mum insisted. I was such a fool then. “Tell me what holidays were like for you growing up.”

She looks puzzled. “Why?”

I shrug. “You’re my wife. I want to know.”

“Terrible until my mom got clean. I’d classify them as tolerable after that. My grandparents were the only joyful part of the holidays for me.” That’s not much detail about what it was like, but I’m guessing this is as far as she wants to go today.

“I wanted this to be the most special Christmas you’ve ever had.”

She smiles and reaches out to touch my arm. “It is. I’m your wife and we’re together. Nothing could spoil that, not even me being sick as a dog.”

“You are so precious to me.” I lean over and kiss the top of her head. I walk over to the Christmas tree Mum had delivered and decorated so we’d have our own for our first Christmas together.

I sit next to Laurelyn with her gifts. “I’ve been carrying your presents with me since the day we left on our honeymoon. I wanted to spend the holidays in Maui so I could have you all to myself on Christmas. Looks like I’m having my way, although this isn’t exactly what I had in mind.”

“I feel like shit. I bought your gifts before the wedding but they’re under our tree at Avalon. I’m sorry. I thought we’d go home after we left your parents and have our own little Christmas there.”

“I don’t care about me, babe. This Christmas is only about you.” I place her first gift on her lap and her face lights up like a child. “Open it.”

She grins as she tears the paper of the small square box. She looks up at me when she sees the jewelry box. “You’ve given me a necklace, earrings, and a bracelet. What could this be?”

“Only one way to find out.”

She flips the jewelry box lid and her eyes dance as she touches her new platinum and diamond drop navel ring. “Oh my God. You bought diamonds for my belly button.” She takes it from the box and holds it up for a better look. “It’s beautiful.”

“I couldn’t find one I liked so I had to have a jeweler make it.” I point to the biggest stone. “This one is a third of a carat. The two smaller ones are quarter-carats each. The jeweler recommended keeping the total weight under a carat so it didn’t become too much.”

She lifts her shirt and holds it over her current ring. “What do you think?”

I can’t wait to see it on her—but not now. “It’s perfect, but wait until you feel better to put it in.”

She reaches for my face and strokes it with her palm. “Always so thoughtful.”

“You haven’t seen anything yet, baby.”

I give her the girly gifts my mum and sister helped me choose—nothing particularly special—and I’m down to the last one. “This is sort of a wedding-slash-Christmas present.” I place the rolled set of papers across her legs. “I wanted to give this to you before we left on our honeymoon but it wasn’t ready.”

I see her intrigue by the way she scrunches her brow. “What is this?”

“Unroll it and take a look.”

She slides to the edge of the couch and spreads the rolled papers out on the coffee table. “It’s blueprints?”

“Yes.”

“For … a house?”

“Not exactly.” I move a picture frame to one side of the papers and a candle to the other to act as paperweights so I can show her the surprise. “This is the newest edition at Avalon—a music studio for you. It was designed by the leading acoustical engineer in the business. The guy is supposed to be some kind of genius when it comes to the science of sound and vibration in technology.” I gesture toward the northeast corner of the drawing. “This room will have state-of-the-art recording equipment.”

She’s silent and I don’t know what that means. “I know this won’t be you traveling around the world with Southern Ophelia, but it’s a way for you to hang on to your music. We live in a technical world and you can work with people in Nashville from here in Australia. I’m hoping you’ll find it a happy medium.”

“Happy medium means I’m settling for less than I truly want but that’s not what this is—or what you are. You’re everything to me—my number one. I love music but it’ll always come after you and when we have a family, it’ll come behind them.” She waves her hand over the blueprints. “I love this. It’s absolutely incredible and proves yet again how thoughtful you are and how much you love me.” She puts her arms out for me to come to her—so I do. “I’d fuck you into this couch if I weren’t sick.”

That’s my girl. “I accept rain checks.”

“I’m sure you do.”

“I have to call Addison to tell her about this.” The doorbell rings and a puzzled look appears on Laurelyn’s face. “Who in the world could that be?”

“There’s only one person I can think of.” Margaret McLachlan. I move to answer the door. “I guess it’s a good thing I’m not getting fucked into the couch right now.”

My guess is spot on. “Mum. This is a surprise.” Not really. I knew she wouldn’t stay away.

She’s holding several plates of food and passes them to me. “I brought you something to eat.” I take the food from her and she steps around me to go to Laurelyn. “How’s our girl?”

“I’m much better, thank you.”

She sits next to L and immediately begins her mothering by feeling L’s forehead. I guess I learned that from her. “You’re a little warm but you don’t have fever. Any chills?”

“I did earlier but I haven’t felt them in hours.”

“Good. Whatever this is, it’s passing quickly. I made soup. Do you feel like eating?”

Laurelyn nods and my mum motions for the cabana boy—me—to jump. “You’re going to eat soup for her but you’d barely drink water for me.” I sound like a pouty child.

“I feel better since I’ve gotten out of bed.” She points to the blueprints on the coffee table. “And since I got this incredible Christmas gift.”

My mum leans over to look at the plans. “What is this?”

“I’m building a music studio at Avalon.”

Mum nods in approval. “What a great idea. You must be happy about this.”

Laurelyn leans up and adjusts the pillow behind her back. “Beyond thrilled is more like it.”

“My boy does good.”

“He certainly does.” I’m glad to have the approval of the two most important women in my life.

I take Laurelyn’s empty soup bowl when she finishes and Mum follows me into the kitchen. “She’s pale.”

She’s a hundred percent better than she was. “Pale is an improvement over the color she was early this morning. She scared me, Mum. She doesn’t realize how very close I was to taking her to the hospital.”

“She kept saying her wedding dress was tight so I thought she might have already been pregnant but just didn’t realize it yet. I was hoping that was why she didn’t feel well, but I see that isn’t the case.” So I’m not the only one hoping for a baby soon.

“I’d hoped the same thing but she isn’t. We know for sure.” I don’t want to tell my mum about my wife’s period, so I hope she understands what I mean.

She’s grinning. “She may want to work on that as soon as she feels better.”

I shrug. “I don’t know. We discussed it in Maui. She told me she’d think about it.”

“Don’t look so discouraged. Thinking about it isn’t a no.”

“It isn’t a yes, either,” I argue.

“Son, she’s open to the idea if she’s thinking it over, but don’t rush her. Pressure is the last thing she needs. You’ve been married a week. There’s plenty of time for babies.”

Laurelyn has plenty of time for babies. I’m not so sure about myself but I’m not going to upset my mum by going there with her. “I know.”

“Enjoy being together while you can. Trust me, that special time is rare once little ones come along.”

Isn’t that the same thing Evan told me about Emma? That, along with a lot of other shit I didn’t want to hear about him fucking her on their living room couch and kids nursing on her all the time. “I treasure every moment with Laurelyn.”

“As you should.” She takes the spoon and bowl from me and goes to the sink to wash them. “You couldn’t have chosen a better gift than a music studio.”

“Laurelyn quit the band but she didn’t give up music. She wants to continue to work—maybe writing songs for other artists. I think the studio will be the perfect avenue for her to work from home instead of making trips to Nashville.”

“Isn’t Nashville where that man lives, the one who attacked her?” That whole situation weighs heavily on my mind.

“Yes and she’ll have to go back to testify.”

“How do you feel about that?” my mum asks.

She doesn’t really want to hear me tell her how I feel about it, how I want to kill him. “I don’t want them in the same room ever again, but I want that son of bitch locked up with the key thrown away. It’ll take her testimony to do that.”

“You’ve never told me about it.”

And I don’t plan to. “I can’t. L doesn’t want anyone to know what he did to her.” She drops the soup bowl in the sink, shattering it, before she turns to me, looking sickened. “He didn’t, Mum. I stopped him in time. But another minute and I don’t think the outcome would’ve been the same.”

She reaches for the dish towel and dries her hands before walking to me. “I had no idea.”

“Don’t say anything to Laurelyn.”

“I wouldn’t, son.” She holds my face with her hands. “You’ve done a lot of things to make me proud but never more so than when you took Laurelyn as your wife. As her husband, it’s your job to love her.” She’s unmoving as her eyes stare into mine. “She’s one of us now and we protect our own … at any cost.”

I nod in agreement with my mum. “With every heartbeat I have left, I will keep her safe.”

I hear the echo of Laurelyn’s phone and I recognize her mum’s ringtone. “Jolie’s calling, I’m sure to wish Laurelyn a merry Christmas.”

“Good. Laurelyn needs her mother to be a presence in her life, even if from a distance.”