Page 31 of Making It While Faking It
“But honey, we haven’t even started the third course.” I can hear in my mom’s voice that she doesn’t want to go anymore at all. They’ve started talking about charity events, and hell will freeze over before she lets Heart, Leslie, and Marigold continue the discussion without her.
“Xan and Heart have a room for Treasure. The one with the koi pond,” my mom says.
“Sure, Treasure’s room is right around the corner,” Heart tacks on. “She can sleep here tonight. And we’ll do coffee and girl talk in the morning.” I can’t see her face, but I’m sure she’s smiling at me as if I’m going to magically feel like having a coffee-laden tea party with her when I wake up.
Plus, tomorrow is Monday. Heartly’s never home during the week. There’s no way she’s going to stay home with sick old me.
“No,” Achilles says with a tone that’s hard to debate with. “I’ll take her home to sleep in her own bed.”
The silence that follows is full of shame about what we’ve all agreed to do for money. I mean, even Grandmother and Hugo are in on it. I know this because she thought to sit me beside Achilles, in fact, presenting us as a couple.
“Achilles, you should also stay as we discuss the charity event,” Marigold says. When he turns to his mother, she raises her eyebrows.
“Orion will stay.”
Oh no…
“No, you stay. I’ll take her home,” Orion retorts.
Oh no…I take short breaths, trying to hold down what wants to rise higher up my throat as my gag reflex kicks in.
“What the hell is wrong with you? Stay in your seat,” Achilles blares. He’s already standing. “Do something for our family for once instead of the other way around.”
He asks if I can stand on my own. But it’s too late to stop myself now. It happens. I vomit all over the food on my plate, Grandma’s fine china, and the silky ivory tablecloth.
Getting Well Soon
TREASURE GROVE
The night’s humid air laced with a touch of a cool breeze rubs my face. I was so embarrassed when I threw up all over my dinner. I should’ve gotten up and run to the toilet. Who am I kidding, though? I would’ve never made it. What happened was inevitable.
After I threw up, my mom raced over to put her arms around me. I heard a lot of commotion. Someone wiped my mouth. Achilles insisted he take me home and mentioned a doctor. My entire family was wholeheartedly on board with my going home with him after he said that. Even if I could have objected, I wouldn’t. There was something settling about the thought of sleeping in the same bed that I slept in last night. It was very comfortable. I want more of it.
I can hardly put one heavy foot in front of the other as I move at a snail’s pace. I’m weak, cold even in the warm night, and achy, but at least I don’t want to throw up anymore. And Achilles helps me with each step. I’m grateful that he’s patient with me. I would stay far away from his strong body, sublime scent that doesn’t make my stomach turn, and the connective energy pouring from his body if I felt better. Because sure, he’s helping now, but when I’m feeling fine and back on my feet, how nice will he be then? I would shrug him off in the name of self-preservation, but I can’t. I need his help.
We’ve advanced down a cement walk that leads to the helipad field. I try to muster up enough strength to walk up the three short steps into the helicopter, but I couldn’t have done it without a lift from Achilles. He’s so strong.
“Hang in there,” he says as he leans his upper body across me to strap on my seat belt.
He’s so close.
“Why are you being so nice to me?” I mumble. I ask because I feel like this is a trick.
My eyelids flicker closed. I can no longer see his face, but I know he’s scowling as if he’s confused.
The engine smoothly purrs into action. Second by second, I’m getting more comfortable and closer to falling asleep. He says something, though. He’s asking me a question. I can tell it’s a question by the intonation of his voice, only I don’t know what he said. I would have to ask him to say it again, but I can’t.
I can’t.
* * *
Achilles grabs me by one wrist and Orion by the other. They’re tugging me like I’m a rope, each man offering many a grimace, hiss, and roar like he’s determined to rip me out of his brother’s grasp. However, I’m in the middle, watching them, unable to feel my limbs stretch like taffy.
I fix my eyes on Orion. Now that I’m getting a long and steady look at him, he’s not working as hard as Achilles. He’s looking at me with those eyes I detest. They’re laughing, unserious, you-can-never-depend-on-me eyes. They’re also I-want-to-devour-you, lay-you-down-and-give-you-more-orgasms-than-your-body-can-handle eyes. They’re eyes that scream,I want to love you, I want you to fall in love with me, and then I’ll get some kind of sick charge from breaking your heart. And I’ll break your heart. Then I’ll come back into your life. I’ll convince you that you read the circumstances of our split all wrong. I’ll kiss you. Make love to you. And then betray you yet again.
That’s when I snatch my wrist out of Orion’s grasp, and he easily loses his grip.
* * *
