Page 78 of Love and Other Trials
When he finished his shower, he wrapped a towel around his waist and looked out the window. The rain continued to fall in hard sheets. Maybe it was the sheer impossibility of everything, but he could feel the ache in his back from shoveling along with a pull toward disheartenment.
What if they didn’t make it? What then? Ariel had to have her house, and as for Rob… His friend wanted to get married, so Dax was going to help him.
Slapping his cheeks with aftershave as much to snap himself out of it as to clean himself up, he put his bad mood aside and went to pull on dry clothes. When he heard a knock on the front door, he detoured to it and smiled when he spotted Jeffrey with a large black mesh bag filled with brown paper sacks.
“Lunch for the working males. Steak sandwiches from my favorite place in town. I thought y’all could use some good grub.”
Jeffrey had the same kind and easy way with people Ariel had, and Dax had to guess they’d gotten it from their father. “Thanks, man.” The smell of grilled meat and fried onions made his stomach grumble. “Any idea where Ariel is?”
“She’s checking out a couple of barns on some private properties to see if there’s another last-minute option. The two I visited were disasters, the best option being a house and beach area owned by a grizzled old fisherman named Montlick who told me we couldn’t have the wedding on the site where he was digging for a megalodon.”
“A megalodon?”
“There are tall tales about those babies all around Charleston.” Jeffrey showed his pearly whites with a laugh. “Shark teeth are a common beachcomber’s item, especially on Folly Beach. Suffice it to say, Tiffany won’t like any option—even if we could find a viable one last minute. The resort doesn’t have a good backup, and when they desperately suggested we might cram into the lodge, after all…”
Dax whistled. “How’d that go?”
Jeffrey made a show of knocking his head against the doorframe. “Let’s just say Tiffany might have turned into an official bridezilla on crack. Eyes popping out of her head. Platinum blond hair standing on end. She pretty much told them they needed to fix things and do what they’d promised, but she’s always been a broken record that way. Don’t get me started.”
He was tempted to ask for more details. Ariel was important to him, and her interactions with the Three Tornadoes were as impenetrable to him as a conversation in Swedish or something. From the sound of it, Jeffrey’s relationship with them wasn’t any better.
“I need to get the rest of these sandwiches delivered.” Jeffrey winced at the rain. “You know the weather forecast called for clear blue skies today.”
Dax wasn’t surprised. The entire area of Charleston was probably seeing its most beautiful day ever—but not here. “Apparently, this Deverell curse I’m starting to really believe in is stronger.”
“It’s a force of nature—like the Deverell women. I was two when Stormy and the Three Tornadoes blew into my life. My first word was help.”
Dax gaped at him. “Shit, man.”
“I’m mostly kidding.” He gave an amused smile. “But not really. The Deverell women were all about creating scenes. Inventing drama. Making senseless trouble. They are masters of guilt and manipulation and verbal abuse coupled with sweetness. I liken them to chocolate dusted with cayenne pepper in a candy box. Ariel is the exception.”
He couldn’t stop himself. “How is she the exception, Jeffrey? I want to know everything there is to know about her.”
“That makes me happy.” He twirled his golf umbrella like Fred Astaire might before leaning on it, crossing his ankles. “Dax, Ariel is what I’d call an old soul, a special soul. You can see it in her eyes, something she and Sherlock share. If you look at Stormy and the Three Tornadoes closely, you’ll notice that they’re like new brass. I love to go antiquing, so let me assure you—there’s a big difference.”
He didn’t do antiques, but he understood the premise. “I’ll bet.”
“As for why she’s that way, I’d like to think God or the universe or whatever governs things simply knew we needed her. She was the first person I told I was gay, and truthfully, I hope she’s holding my hand when I die because she’s the most special person I’ve ever met. I know I’ll die with a smile on my face, and what more could any of us ask for?”
Depressing death thoughts aside, Dax had to agree. “She does have a way of making you laugh or smile, doesn’t she?”
“None better.” Jeffrey hoisted his umbrella over his head with a twirl and started down the stairs. “I need to make a few more calls for Ariel. I’ll see you later, Dax.”
“Thanks again for the sandwich,” he called.
Shutting the door, he sat down to eat, noticing how little he liked the quiet. He was missing Ariel hard. When he polished off his sandwich, he picked up his phone.
How are the errands going? We had to break because of the rain. Glad you have the Bronco, although maybe it’s only raining here in Curse Central.
Ariel
Yeah, I heard. No rain where I am. Blue skies all the way. Found a barn we could rent, but it’s… Let’s just say Jeffrey would need a party pack of holy water and sage sticks. We’d have to clean it out, and I don’t think it’s been cleaned since the 1800s. Not sure the attic is even safe to walk in. The “charming pond” is more like a man-made water pit dotted with gators.
That had better mean NO then. Elizabeth, you know how much I esteem you, but I am not doing gators.
Ariel
When I mentioned deterrents for the gators, he asked me if I meant something other than a shotgun. Then the owner told me there are devices that emit a sound to keep them away, but they’re not like the devices that keep mice away, are they?
