Beauty From Love

I lean over to place the phone on the nightstand and then return to sitting astride Jack Henry. “She says to tell you she loves you.”

  “I owe you, sweet cheeks.” He lifts my hand to his lips for a kiss. “I’m certain you just saved me from a Margaret-style arse kicking.”

  “We’re husband and wife. That means we protect one another.”

  “I don’t know what I did before you.”

  His words spark a reminder of what he did before me and a peculiar look comes over his face. We both know why, so I push it out of my mind and attempt a change of subject. “What day do you have in mind for going back?”

  “I was thinking we might stay a couple of weeks.”

  I don’t have to do the math in my head to realize that means staying here through the holidays. “And miss Christmas with your family?” Our family.

  “I think it would be nice to spend our first Christmas as husband and wife here. I’ll go out and get us a tree. We can decorate it together—anyway you want.”

  My heart plummets.

  “What is it?”

  I place my finger on his chest and before I know it, I’m tracing the infinity symbol. “This is my first chance at a normal Christmas with family. It’s something I’ve never had before. I guess I was excited about it, but we can stay here. Spending the holidays with just you and me will be special.”

  He grabs my hand and kisses it. “I’m such an idiot. I wasn’t thinking. Of course, you want to spend our first Christmas with family.”

  Being with Jack Henry is all I really need. “I want to make you happy. If being here together is what you have in mind, then that’s what we should do.”

  “No. I’m making sure you have the Christmas you deserve. We’ll leave Saturday so we can be back before Christmas Eve. What do you think of that?”

  “I think it’s perfect—just like you.”

  The last six days have been the best of my life. I’m sad to leave Maui but I know Jack Henry and I can return whenever we choose, so the sadness is lessened.

  It’s almost Christmas Eve by the time we land in Sydney, and I’m thankful Daniel is there waiting with the car. I’m so exhausted I practically fall inside. Jack Henry gathers me in his arms for the ride to our apartment and strokes his hand over my hair. “You see? This is what happens when you act like a sex-crazed maniac.”

  I gather all my strength to respond. “Sorry, McLachlan. It won’t happen again.”

  That’s the last thing I remember until we arrive at the apartment and Jack Henry attempts to gather me so he can carry me inside. “I’m awake. I can walk.”

  “I’m carrying you over the threshold.”

  “You did that already,” I argue.

  “I did it at our vacation house. Now I’m doing it at our apartment and you should expect me to do it again when we go home to Avalon.”

  I get out of the car and he scoops me up. “You’re being silly, but I’m too tired to argue with you, freak, so take me to bed.”

  “Gladly.”

  I shake my head. “Not for that, McLachlan. To rest. I’m exhausted.”

  “You’ve been sleeping a lot the past few days. Do you feel okay?”

  He’s right. I spent more time in bed than usual but it was our honeymoon. Aren’t we supposed to stay in bed far too much? “I’m fine … just exhausted by my husband’s robust sexual appetite this week.”

  “Are you complaining?”

  “Most certainly not.”

  “Welcome home, sort of, my beautiful bride.” He chuckles as he brings me through the front door and sets me on the floor. He looks at me and then places his palm against my forehead. “You look pale. Sure you feel okay?”

  “I’m really tired.”

  He takes my hand. “Let’s get you to bed so you can catch up on your sleep. You’ll need to be energized for tomorrow.”

  Shit! I have no idea how I’m going to get everything done. “But I don’t have time to sleep. There’s too much to do.” I take a look around the living room but don’t see any deliveries. I wonder where Daniel put them. “There should be a stash of Christmas packages here somewhere. They’ll need wrapping before tomorrow. That’ll take a lot of time because I make my own bows.”

  “No, ma’am. There’s plenty of time for that. The first thing you’re going to do is sleep and you can get to those other things later if you feel well enough.”

  I hate to admit it, but I’m too tired to argue with him. “Okay. Wake me in two hours.”

  It’s dark when I open my eyes so that means Jack Henry didn’t wake me as I’d asked. Shit! I’ve slept the whole day.

  My head is pounding and I have chills. My body feels as though it’s been run over by a semi … and then backed over again. I don’t feel well at all and I can admit it.

  I sit on the edge of the bed and flip on the lamp. The dim light is painful and I’d like to turn it off and lie back down but I have an urgent need to use the bathroom. I rise to stand at the side of the bed but my head spins so I lower myself to sit again.

  As if on cue, Jack Henry comes into the room. “You’re finally awake. You’ve been sleeping like the dead.” He walks over and again places his hand on my head. “You’re hot.”

  “Glad you think so.”

  “You’re considerably chipper for someone with a fever.”

  I reach up and hold my head. “I’m dizzy but I really need to go to the bathroom.”

  “I’ll help you.”

  He helps me to stand and my head feels like I’ve been whirling in circles, so I shut my eyes tight. “Oh God. I may throw up.” And if I do, my bladder is going to explode. “Bathroom. Now.”

  He takes my hands and guides me in the direction I need to go but I don’t open my eyes because I know I’ll spew if I do. I feel his hands guiding me back toward the toilet before he peels my panties down my legs. “Sit.”

  We’ve done this before and he knows I don’t want him around for bodily functions. “Hand me the trash can and then get out.”

  “I’m not leaving you alone on the verge of falling off the toilet into your own puke.”

  Seriously? He wants to argue about this now? I’m miserable because my bladder is about to burst. I squeeze my eyes, although I’m covering them with my hand. “I can’t pee with you in here. You’ve got to go.”

  “I’m not leaving if you’re unsteady.”

  “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 f
or 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?”