Chapter 131

A restless, wild kind of energy was coming off of Ardal as she stood before him.

He swallowed, wishing she'd just tell him whatever was wrong.

“I need something to do,” she said.

There was a sharp pain over her face that made him nervous.

“Okay, you can make the java for us,” he said, attempting to put some cheer in his voice. He pointed to the corner of the counter where the machine and beans were waiting.

She hesitated. “That’s a lot fancier than my Mr. Coffee auto-drip.”

”It looks more intimidating than it is,” he smiled.

Bad idea.

She fooled around with it, and he attempted to direct her on how to use it while he threw the bacon on the griddle and chopped up the vegetables, but she quickly grew frustrated.

He had to jump in to the rescue, and then she ran over to flip the bacon before it burned, a smile of victory on her face for effectively booting him from the stove, spatula now in her hand.

“Well-played,” he said. He rolled his eyes at her triumphant expression and turned to get out what they needed to set the table.

“Deem?"

“What?” He reached up in the cupboard and started counting out plates.

“Can I stay in your bedroom?” Her voice was soft.

“Mi cuarto es tu cuarto.” He gave her an easy smile and carried the dishes to the table.

She grinned at him before returning to stir the eggs. “I like it when you do that.”

“What? Butcher a beautiful language?”

“I wouldn’t know if you were. I’ve just heard you talking to a client or two in Spanish and you seem like you do really well. Oh - and I do, distinctly remember a very drunk, very blustery, Spanish yelling-match with Julia.”

He laughed. “First of all, I don't do 'really well.' I'm the Spanish equivalent of a two year-old - with a speech impediment. The 'r' doesn't want to roll." He walked back to stand next to her, leaning against the counter. "As to the argument with Julia, I threw her every curse word I knew, which wasn’t much.”

“That was kind of the best part,” Ardal said, glancing over at him, “Because that’s when you switched to Mandarin and Arabic.”

He chuckled. “I don’t remember that, actually."

“Like I said, very drunk.”

“Well,” he replied, “I don’t think my grandparents or mom ever said a curse word in their lives, so I probably just worked out whatever insult I could. Dad, on the other hand, had a few colorful swear words...“ He smiled wistfully, feeling the familiar pang of loss.

Ardal’s face grew anxious again. She turned the knob off the griddle and started yanking open cabinet doors, flying impatiently from one to the next.

He crossed his arms. "What are you looking for?"

She raked back her hair, frustrated. "Something to put the eggs in."

He pointed to one of the open cabinets. "Just use that -"

But he looked at her, and she was close to tears.

"What's wrong?" He took her hand and laced his fingers with his.

She shook her head. "The food will get cold."

"Who cares?"

The back door flew open and Milo raced in. "I'm hungry," he said, announcing it like a proclamation.

Kadeem and Ardal shared a small smile.

"Well, then, tell everyone to come eat," Kadeem said, matching Milo's ardent tone.

"It's time to EAT," Milo hollered through the open door. He ran for the table, instead of for his siblings outside.

They spent the afternoon surrounded by the kids with no chance to talk, hardly getting a word in edgewise between the chattering, rambunctious quintuplets.

Ardal was uncharacteristically snappy with them and at multiple points, got up to pace around.

He finally swiveled around to her, having had enough.

"Can you knock that off," he growled. "You're like a walking advertisement for a psych med. The tragic 'Before.'"

She glared at him and sat down on the couch in a huff. He shifted next to her and put his arm around her. She reluctantly leaned against him and he kissed the top of her head.

He wanted to ask her what was wrong, but held back, and focused on enjoying the time with the kids. His house had never felt so warm - in all the right ways - even with Ardal's foul mood cutting in.

Still, towards the end of the day, she was either growing more agitated or he was getting more weary of it.

She turned to Kadeem in only a half-joke after yelling at Ezra over something small, which reduced him to a shame-faced puddle. "Speaking of meds, you don't have any Ativan on you?"

"When have you ever seen me overly-anxious?"

She rolled her eyes. "You get worked up sometimes."

He shook his head and frowned, just before catching Ezra by the hand and pulling him to his lap. The other kids were playing hide and seek, Silas' voice rising, "Ready or not, here I come!"

"All I've got is my script for migraines," Kadeem said. "Why don't you go for a drive or something, and try to chill out?" He ruffled Ezra's hair and smiled down at him, hoping to cheer him up.

"I can't." Ardal's voice was strained. She glanced out toward the patio. "Do you mind if I go out back?"

Lottie screeched loudly from down the hall, then began racing toward the living room. Silas was in hot pursuit, yelling like Braveheart as he charged.

Ardal looked instantly incensed and then buried her head in her hands.

Kadeem let Ezra go. He giggled as he took off after Silas and Lot.

"For God's sake, you don't have to ask my permission,” Kadeem said, frowning at her.

She shook her head and looked at him. "But the kids -"

"Are mine, too," he said.

That night, he tucked the kids into bed, and then found Ardal standing in the light of the refrigerator, the rest of the kitchen swallowed by darkness. Bottles clinked as she pulled something out and set it on a nearby counter, leaving the fridge doors wide open.

'Worse than the kids,' he thought.

"This is not enough alcohol," she said when he came in, pointing to the two beer bottles on the counter.

He raised an eyebrow. "Drink it fast."

"Oh, I will," she said. She began to hunt through the kitchen drawers.

He opened up a drawer on the opposite side of the room and brought her the bottle opener.

"I was joking," he said. "What's with you and all the booze right now? First, you're day-drunk on champagne -"

He paused, watching her quickly open a bottle, then throw it back like a frat boy.

"And right now, you look like... well, me," he admitted slowly. "About seven years ago."

She locked eyes with him.

He felt the edges of old pain, suddenly a little raw again.

"Just you and me now, Sis. Let's talk."

But she was chugging the rest of the beer, desperately. And as she drank it back, her hand was already reaching for the next bottle. He swiped it from her.

She finished polishing the first one, set it down with an angry "clank," and wiped her mouth. "Hey," she said, raggedly.

"Hey nothing."

She made a grab for the beer in his hand. "Quit the paternalistic shit," she spit out.

"Oh." He laughed contemptuously. Then handed it to her, his face hardened. "Okay, then, fine. Youeasilyget drunk off of one beer, but sure, double it, Ardal. I won't bother caring."

"I never asked you to!" she yelled, indignant. "Iwantto be drunk - very drunk." The last two words fell darkly from her tongue, her eyes narrowing. She fumbled angrily with the bottle opener. "And you're - you're not the Alpha of me!"

He sighed and reached to take the bottle opener from her, though she scowled at him.

"Since Iam, I'm sure that really stings, for someone as pig-headed as you," he growled.

He opened that stupid bottle she was struggling with in her, already tipsy, rage. Then he set the beer and the opener down curtly. She was staring fiercely back at him, though her wrath had melted just slightly.

He paused, taking her in as she stood, her body tense and still bathed in the swath of the light from the open fridge. "You'll make a great Luna," he admitted slowly, suddenly feeling a choking sense of pride wash over him. Then added, "If you can ever just keep your feet on the ground -"

“Will you just shut up,” Ardal said. She pushed into him, surprising him as she pinned him against the counter and kissed him furiously.

She broke away, and their faces were mere centimeters apart. He grabbed her face and kissed her again - sticking his foot out to kick the doors of the fridge closed while he was at it.

Ravenous, they began to strip off the other's clothes and clung to each other as they made their way breathlessly to his bedroom -theirbedroom? Maybe. If Ardal could stay earth-side long enough to decide happiness was worth some glue.