Page 38 of Love and Other Trials
Tricia put a companionable arm around Ariel’s shoulder. “I have to agree. When I was putting the matting on my wedding photos to hang them in the family room, I was grateful Ariel had been at the end of the row of bridesmaids. The mat kinda covered her up.”
Dax could feel his blood pressure rising.
Ariel walked over to Tiffany and laid a hand on her arm. “Let me do my own this time, and yes, please put me at the end of the line. Easier to cover me up.”
“Or cut her out, if she doesn’t look right,” Terry added quickly with a hand to her mouth. “I hate to say so, but wedding photos are important. Sometimes drastic measures must be taken.”
Dax bit the inside of his cheek. How dare they talk to Ariel like this! Or anyone else for that matter. Why did family think they could say things like this that they’d never say to strangers? Hell, then again, her family might. He desperately wanted to give these women a piece of his mind. “I can’t imagine Ariel ever looking bad,” he said tightly, gazing down at her. “She’s one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever met.”
“That’s so…sweet.” Tricia looked at Terry, as if confused. Terry shrugged.
Tiffany only smiled with so much fakeness, he was sure something inside her must be cracking. “Sweet, yes, but you’ve spent a lot of years on a carrier with mostly men, so you’re no expert, Dax.”
He stared her down, unable to keep his outright dislike of her and everything she stood for out of his gaze. She only stared back with flinty, feminine arrogance.
“I have some more wedding things to take care of tonight,” Ariel broke in, crossing to them and bussing cheeks with each sister. “I’ll email you an update in the morning, Tiffany. Good night.”
Turning from them, she took Dax’s arm and walked him up the porch steps. Sherlock ran after them—fleeing the scene, Dax imagined, because how did anyone take that kind of bullshit?
He shut the door and locked it, then made sure to close every curtain and blind. The last thing they needed was another Peeping Tom moment. Sherlock plopped down beside the fireplace on his makeshift bed. Dax looked over at Ariel, standing still as stone. “You all right?”
“I’m used to it.” She rubbed her forehead however, her shoulders slumping. “Your bit about the wig was terrific, though. I almost bought it.”
“They’re a hard sell, your sisters.” Satisfied they had complete privacy, even if those littleLord of the Fliesbrats had seen them come back, he walked over and put his arms around her. “I wanted to give them a piece of my mind for talking to you like that.”
“I try not to take it personally. Barbie was perfect, and even she got her hair cut by them and was re-accessorized constantly. She was never good enough. How could I ever hope to be?”
When she gestured to herself, Dax’s heart broke. “Ariel, I never imagined people being so mean. Especially to family. They’re your sisters, and don’t tell me the half makes a difference. It’s cruel.”
She wrung her hands together before letting them fall to her sides. “And yet, that’s how it’s always been. It’s not like they don’t love me. They just don’t like me.”
Her sigh was harsh, and Dax wished he’d never brought it up.
“The worst part is that I don’t like them either.” She patted Sherlock when he rose and walked over to her. “I can remember fun times together when we were younger. Back then, I think Mother was trying to get us to love her, but then something broke inside her, and she stopped trying. To a kid it was a joy ride. Giant popcorn fountains for snow as a kid at Christmas. A birthday with pet rescue puppies. Disney Princess days.”
He couldn’t imagine any of that now. At the same time, he recalled Rob telling him about all the stuff he’d done with Tiffany—over-the-top picnics, race car night, and a last-minute trip to Vegas. She’d clearly learned at her mother’s knee.
“They’re diabolically fun when they want to be. That’s their charm and the reason I felt lucky to be their sister. Everyone wanted to be their friend. All my life, I’ve wanted to be one of them. But every time I get invited to join them—like now—it’s never the kind of good time I hope for, and part of me doesn’t know what to do.”
She lifted those big baby blues to him, and his heart clutched at the agony he saw there.
“It’s not like you can quit your family,” she added softly. “They’re the only people who can’t turn away from you, right? Maybe families are like gasoline tanks, and when your relationship with them runs low, things are just harder.”
There were a million retorts on the tip of his tongue, like how a car could run the same on the top part of the tank as at the bottom. Maybe the problem was her sisters syphoning off gas from her tank and draining her. Or maybe no one was contributing to the family tank, so it was going dry. His family’s tank was healthy because everyone contributed.
“You’re quiet.” She scanned his face. “Have I made you uncomfortable?”
He bit his lip. Should he say it? Fuck it. He couldn’t stop himself. “No. I hope you won’t think I’ve gone too far saying this, but your family seems to have already turned away from you, calling you bad things like that. Ariel, they’ve cut you out offamilyphotos. If that’s not turning away from someone, I don’t know what is.”
She pursed her lips, obviously fighting emotion. He didn’t know what to do. He started by pulling her to his chest and rubbing her back.
“I hear what you’re saying, and God knows, I’ve gone over this a million times. Jeffrey’s concluded no family is perfect and you make the best of what you have while getting professional help. And using alcohol when necessary. He’s not exactly accepted either, but being gay, he likes to say it’s his cross to bear. He’s not accepted a lot of places.”
If that didn’t make him grit his teeth. He’d never understood why race, sex, or labels mattered. People were people. Good and bad. And everyone deserved at the minimum a basic level of respect. “Well, I can’t wait to meet Jeffrey. What do you want to do now? WatchA Fish Called Wandaor something else? Wig-pong?”
He rubbed her back briskly, trying to infuse good feelings back into her. But she stayed rigid in his arms.
“I was hoping we’d come back here and make out more,” she confessed, “and I hate that I’m not in the mood now. I feel like they’ve ruined something else for me. Something special.”
