Fantasyland: Midnight Soul Part 92

"She's good," he said softly. "Lookin' forward to you meetin' her."

I felt my shoulders tighten as I selected my favorite variety of chips (one I noted was Noc's too), barbeque.

"What?" he asked, his voice changing.

That was to say, changing significantly.

I turned to him, chips in hand.

He had his phone to his ear but his eyes were riveted to the tomato he'd placed on the island and he was now unmoving.

"No, I didn't forget," he stated, and his tenor was deteriorating.

I stood still and kept my attention on him.

"Yeah, I will," he declared, and I read his next as interrupting his father when he carried on swiftly and curtly, "Told you I will. So I will." There was only but a brief pause before, "We'll see about it next year." Another brief pause and then, his voice lower, somewhat conciliatory, but still tight, he said, "I know it means something to you, so like I said, we'll see about it next year." There was a small measure of silence before he went on, "Yeah, it's about Frannie bein' here and me startin' the job and, like I said, I'm sorry I couldn't make it this year but it's the way it is."

Slowly, I made my way to the island and stopped, standing opposite him, finding it troubling that Noc, always attuned to me, always, didn't lift his head to watch me do this or even when he sensed me arrive.

"I know it's the first time I missed it, Dad, but I got a lot goin' on," he continued. "Next year, we'll see about it. But you know I got things in my life now where it isn't just all about me. I'm not there for one, so it isn't as easy for me to be there seein' as I'm all the way across the country. And if I got time off, I gotta share it the way we wanna share it, Franka and me, not just me makin' the decisions."

I was reeling from learning the information through his conversation that it was clear Noc had already told his father about me, but I had little time to recover.

What he'd just said quite obviously did not go over very well with his father, and I knew this when Noc's back shot straight, forcing his eyes to aim away from the island.

But they stared unseeing beyond me.

"I know what it means to you. Of course I f.u.c.kin' know," he growled infuriatedly, and shockingly disrespectfully.

I stood still, silent, stunned that Noc could sound like that at all much less aiming it at his father.

"Yeah, it's a tough time for us all, Dad, and I get that. I get it for you, probably now more than ever, havin' Frannie. I get that for Dash and for Orly. What I keep tryin' to get you to get is that the way you deal with it might not be the way we all wanna do that." There was another moment of silence before he declared, "Dash is like you. But Orly is like me. And not to dig the knife in deeper, but to make my point, he's also like Judy." A very brief pause before, "You get my point, you totally get it. Don't make me say it."

And then there was a very long pause as I watched, fascinated and horrified, as emotion twisted Noc's beautiful features. Ugly emotion. Pain so deep witnessing it wounded me. My heart squeezed, my stomach lurched, and it took everything for me not to round the island and envelope him in my arms in the effort to absorb his pain, take it deep inside me so it was something he'd never again feel.

But he wouldn't want that. Not in that moment. Everything about him screamed it.

So it cost me, but I stayed put.

"Okay, I'll say it. She'd hate this s.h.i.t and you know it. Every f.u.c.kin' year, Dad, we do it for you and because Dash gets somethin' out of it. But it's mostly for you. I want you to have what you need. But you know Judy would f.u.c.kin' hate it. Thought it every f.u.c.kin' year, kept it to myself. Talked to Orly about it. He kept it to himself. You pushed it. Now you're hearing it. Judy'd think that s.h.i.t was f.u.c.ked up. And my guess, deep down you know it."

I realized I was holding my breath, drew in a deep one, and held that.

"Think that's a good idea. We'll leave it at that and talk more later. But like I said, I promised I'd do it here. And I'll do it here." A very short pause before, "Right. Love you," he pushed out tersely. "'Bye."

With that, he hit the screen of his phone with his thumb and tossed it with a rather volatile clatter on the island.

Then he scowled at it.

"Darling?" I whispered.

He turned his scowl to me.

I swallowed at the range and depth of emotions in it, anger, frustration and hurt.

"Is everything all right?" I queried carefully.

"You been standin' right there, gorgeous, and you don't know the answer to that?" he asked, his tone edged sharply with sarcasm.

What did I do now?

I'd never had this Noc.

I didn't even know there could be this Noc.

I decided to start with something benign.

"You've told your father about me?" I asked.

"Love my dad. He's not a colossal d.i.c.k like yours, so I fall in love with a woman, she's all but livin' with me and I see my future with her in it, he's the first one I tell."

This delighted me in all ways except the tone with which he shared it.

"You hadn't shared that with me," I told him quietly.

"Well, sorry, babe. Now you know," he replied shortly, grasped the plate with the burgers and stormed out of the kitchen to the deck.

I drew in breath and followed.

Before I even got close to him, he warned, "Not in the mood to talk about it, Frannie."

I stopped and stared at his back, noting his movements of putting the burgers on the flame were stilted, but noting this only vaguely.

My mind raced for something to say.

It seemed to take eons but I finally caught on it.

"I'm here for you when you are, my love."

"Right," he bit off.

"Like you always are for me."

"Yeah," he stated dismissively.

He wanted no more words said.

Yet I sensed I should not leave it at that.

I hesitated a moment before I admitted, "You're clearly feeling something upsetting and I want to help, but I don't know how."

He turned, dropping the lid on his grill, and growled, "You can help by opening up the chips. I'm f.u.c.kin' hungry."

He then prowled right by me and into the house.

I kept my eyes to the grill, deciding the next day I was going to start practicing slicing tomatoes at Valentine's.

I could open a packet of chips.

But it was becoming clear that after experiencing the exquisite glow of realizing you'd found the man you'd love for eternity and he'd found you right back, life intruded.

I needed to be brave and face that life head on. I needed to be able to cope with whatever came at me. But more, at Noc.

I needed to learn to do what he did.

Support. Nurture. Care. Understanding.

And I had no skills in those areas.

I couldn't even slice his tomato.

But I could learn to slice a b.l.o.o.d.y tomato.

And I had to learn it all.

Noc pulled me down on his c.o.c.k, I gasped at the silken violence of it and watched as he came.

We were both seated, me in Noc's lap, my legs wrapped around his hips, his legs stretched beyond me.

He'd already given mine to me. So in his moment, I simply held him in my arms, and when his head fell forward, his forehead resting on my shoulder, I buried my face in his neck.

"I love you," I whispered there, and for once, words of such grave import felt like they meant very little at all, for I knew I should be giving him so much more.

He turned his lips to my skin and kissed me before he whispered back, "Love you too, Frannie."

His words did not feel the same as mine.

They felt like they gave me everything.

With nothing further, he pulled me off him, set me gently in the bed and exited it, not going to the bathroom before he twitched the covers over me.

Nurture.

Care.

He was back in no time, pulling me into his embrace, burrowing into me, holding me tucked close, my back curved into his front.

He said nothing, and after a short period of time, I sensed him drift to sleep.

I did not.

He'd held his mood throughout the evening, therefore I was surprised with his continued distance when he'd instigated lovemaking.

I was surprised but I did not demur.

It was what he needed, what I always wanted, and last, it was the only thing I knew how to give.

He deserved more.

I did not know how to give it to him.

But as I lay in his embrace, feeling his strength and heat swathing me, protective and fortifying even in his sleep, I knew the time I allowed excuses to delay me were over.

There would be no more excuses.

I needed to give my Noctorno more.

Chapter Twenty-Four.

And I You Franka "Franka."

The sharp tone pulled me from my musings and I focused on Valentine where she sat opposite me in her magic room in her home.

She was staring at me irritably.

"Did you hear a word I said?" she queried with the same irritability.

Unfortunately, I had not.

"I beg your pardon. I have a number of things on my mind," I shared.

"This has not escaped me," she retorted. "However, I take the needs of my clientele very seriously and as I'm offering you your first a.s.signment, regardless that it's as simplistic as casting a love spell, it's important for you to be very clear on the client's needs."

"Of course," I murmured.

"To make a point that needs not be made, it wouldn't do for you to erroneously cast a spell on the employer our client hates, even if he's rather handsome and exceptionally wealthy, when it's the maintenance man she's secretly in love with," she continued.

"Yes, obviously," I replied.