Whirlwind 01 - Finish Line - Pt. 04

"He also speaks Gaelic," Cassie said, tightly, her eyes furious.

Lavender's expression froze as Nathan cocked a speculative eyebrow at her. Her face rocketed through pink, past red, and burned a hot crimson as her eyes flew open in consternation.

Nathan captured Lavender's nearly panicked stare, with an indulgent smile. "Though I am not nearly fluent in it," he said in Gaelic; concentrating to let the liquid syllables roll off his tongue as capably as possible. "You were complimenting my suit; weren't you? Thank you." He was taking mental deep breaths and desperately trying to think of some graceful way out of the hideously awkward situation. The expressions of scandalized horror made him cringe. He was about to speak, in English, when he felt something, his head lifted, and his genuine smile returned. "Ariana just walked up behind me, didn't she?" he said in English.

Cassie managed to nod, while Linnae and Marie shuffled their feet uncomfortably, and Lavender stood, face glowing more brightly by the heartbeat, and stared at him like a bound captive watching the last few seconds tick off on the time bomb.

"If you ladies will please excuse me," he said, in English, and turned around, his fingers mentally crossed...

There. Their eyes locked and her expression flickered, settling almost, but not quite instantly, into a blandly happy welcome. Nathan was certain as to what he had seen, and his heart shoved the brain out of the driver's seat, and hopped in.

His chuckle was now a quiet laugh. Ariana, looking much as she had on the last morning of the race. Her small smile broadened as they looked into each other's eyes. For one precious moment the entire world contained only two people. "It is wonderful to see you again. Your song was spectacular," he complimented her; now wondering how to get to the important...

Ariana started to say something; but noticed the expressions of her friends, and she said, in a puzzled tone, "What is tha matter, then?" She glanced up at Nathan's smile. He broke the awkward, embarrassed silence with a conciliatory tone; "Lavender told a joke. It went over poorly, but wasn't taken seriously."

Ariana, all too familiar with Lavender's caustic, sardonic humor, said in a slow, hollow voice, "What joke might tha hae been?"

Nathan started to speak, but in a strangled voice Lavender stammered, "I didn't know... he spoke Gaelic, and I... well I... I implied that... playing with him."

Ariana's eyes flamed and her mouth opened but nothing came out. She knew she had to end the relationship, but not like this; not like what Nathan would think of her now.

Nathan tried to defuse the situation. Besides... all he really wanted at that moment was to BE with Ariana, so he said, softly, "Ariana."

Ariana tore her eyes away from Lavender's mortified expression and looked at Nathan... and her heart was gently gathered up and stolen away by the grey, shining eyes. "I know the difference between a 'joke gone wrong' blush and an 'I've let the cat out of the bag' blush. Besides, I'm the other half of Team Number One. Can you look me in the eye and tell me you DON'T know that if you called up and asked for a million dollars, no questions asked, no strings attached; tell me you DON'T know you'd have the check the next day."

Ariana was lost in those eyes, and vaguely heard her mouth say, just as quietly and just as gently, "Aye, I know tha." She blinked, trying to keep the joyful smile from her lips, and failing. The chuckle that rewarded her soothed her heart. She felt... content... for the first time in months. She seized control and tried to frown in mock severity. "You didna tell me you were rich."

A merry, teasing laugh crinkled the corner's of the sea-grey eyes. "It wasn't something to drop into casual conversation." He shrugged and said, "Look! A bull orca! I hope it's with a pod. Oh, by the way, I'm worth a few million dollars, not really a lot. I wonder if that's the pit stop for this leg or just another clue."

Ariana laughed. She couldn't help it. She didn't want to think about tomorrow, or an hour from now; she only wanted to curl up and enjoy the moment. "I missed the foot rubs, don't you know."

"Oh, look," Cassie said with bright, brittle cheerfulness, "They are starting the last episode. Let's GO." She firmly escorted a fascinated Linnae and a still shattered Lavender away from the oblivious couple. Marie lingered a moment, but then followed quickly.

"I missed talking to you while rubbing your feet."

The pause was long, and they just smiled at each other, saying more with their eyes than most people manage to ever say with words. Finally she felt like she couldn't put off the looming doom any longer and she managed to say, "Nathan, we, we can no hae the kind o relationship I think you want."

To her surprise, his smile twitched a bit more broadly, and he replied, "Let's see. Your heart was going to add something, but your mouth cut it off. I'd really like to hear what your heart was going to add."

Her traitorous heart slipped the words, "Much as I would love to," past her lips before she could stop them.

"Well, I want you to know that I will honor any reason you have, except for one."

I will no cry; I will no cry, Ariana chanted to herself, knowing if she started, he would hold her, cradle her in his arms, and then she would be lost. Her resolve was beginning to crumble like a dike made of beach sand. "What reason might tha be?"

His earnest smile was tender and sure and made her heart ache. "You know a few years ago a couple was snorkeling on the Great Barrier Reef on their honeymoon. A great white shark appeared and charged the wife. The husband deliberately charged the shark - which killed him instead." He paused, letting the horrible image settle into her heart. "Was he stupid... or heroic?" he prompted gently. [True story.]

"Heroic," she whispered, puzzled and confused and a little scared for no reason she could name.

"But that was his choice. He accepted that risk. And no one should take that choice away from him."

For a moment Ariana was terrified he would ask if she knew he would charge a shark for her; for she knew that he would, and she didn't trust herself to put such a thing in words. Instead he said, "And a few years ago a couple were in a car accident. Hit by a drunk driver. The husband got out, realized his wife was trapped in the now burning car, and went back in after her. I believe Dad decided that either both of them were getting out or neither of them were." his eyes flickered sadly as he said, "In that case neither of them got out." He cocked his head and smiled crookedly. "But that was his choice. And no one should try to take that choice away from him." he took a deep breath, and Ariana could swear she could hear the beating of his heart from an arm's length away. "Was he stupid... or did he take his commitment seriously?"

"Seriously," she whispered, riveted to his quiet, sincere words even as the shouted commentary of the troupe watching the episode on the projection television rose in the background.

He nodded slightly, and his expression became as tender as an angel stroking an orchid to coax it to bloom. "And there was a couple a long time ago. The wife was diagnosed with leprosy, and the husband dutifully packed everything up, took her to the leper colony,... and moved in with her."

Ariana's eyes widened and blurred with tears, her hand involuntarily reached for her throat, which was tightening with raw emotion. He knew. Somehow he knew.

"His family and friends and even his wife argued with him, saying he would eventually die a horrible death; but he said, simply, 'My choice.'." Nathan's voice was perfectly steady, but his eyes were misty, too. "Was he stupid... or devoted?" [True story. Actually happened many times.]

"You know," she managed to whisper.

He nodded. "Since the morning of the fourth leg of the race. Remember when you were running late and you tossed me things to stuff in your pack? One of those was your prescription container. I know what Truvada is used to treat."

Ariana shook her head slightly, bewildered, uncertain as to what he was saying.

"So having found the perfect woman for me, do you think I'm going to be put off by a virus? You have to know me better than that." He smiled like sun bursting through storm clouds. "So what might the OTHER reason be?"

"I owe you an apology. After you kissed me, I saw what might have been my blood on your lips. I was terrified I might have infected you." She cast her eyes down. She couldn't say this while looking him in the eye, she couldn't. "And you looked like you were going to kiss me again, and I had to stop you, so I slapped you. I'm sorry."

"Forgiven. Forgotten. And I don't love you any more or less because of it."

She raised her right hand and put in on his chest to help hold herself up as she felt dizzy. She started to say, "But you don understand...," when she felt a small, hard object under the lapel of his suit. Her face went totally blank and her eyes widened and she looked deep into his face.

He was chuckling and shaking his head. "There must be some mystical attraction between women and jewelry; like metal to a magnet." He picked up her unresisting left hand and laid it on the other side of his chest. Her palm felt another hard object under that lapel. "You know how much I like to be prepared. Since I didn't hear much from you for the past five months, I had to come prepared for everything from, 'It's been nice, but I don't want you to bother me anymore,' to, 'I've missed you almost as much as you've missed me, and having you around more would be nice'." He covered her left hand with his right. "This is the 'don't bother me any more' box. It's a memento of the race. I had to get a Cartier jeweler to sign confidentiality agreements and get the network's permission. It's a locket. The outside front is a globe of the world with Ireland as an emerald in the center. There are two tracks of tiny diamonds running across the world, side-by-side. I went through hundreds of hours of videos at the network, and picked one picture of the two of us, and that's inside the locket. Above the picture it says, 'Team Number One.' Below the picture it says, 'Ariana and Nathan.' And on the back it's inscribed with the date and, 'Team Number One, 12 of 12 times'." He smiled at her stunned expression. "So if your heart can really tell me to leave, I'll give this to you, and kiss you good-bye, and you won't hear from me again, other than Fan Forum reports - unless you EVER need me."

"What, what, is...," she couldn't finish the sentence, her eyes wandering back and forth from his eyes to her right hand, seemingly glued to his lapel.

"That. Well, that is the opposite. It's a diamond that is a little less than four carats, because anything bigger is boastful. It is a brilliant cut; but not as brilliant as your singing. It is nearly as flawless as your smile. And it is almost as blue as your eyes; as close as I could come, anyway."

"You would marry me? The way I am?" she whispered.

He nodded solemnly and took her hands in his. He lifted the left one. "I can be a tiny part of your life - and lonely and frustrated, and live however long God sees fit to keep me here." He lifted her right hand. "Or I can be a larger part of your life - and be happy and content, and live however long God sees fit to keep me here." The sigh was heartfelt, but looking into her mesmerized eyes he couldn't do anything else. "It's a very complex question, but I guess it boils down to I can be with you, and take care of you when the times comes, and maybe live 20 years; or not be with you, and worry about you, and live maybe 40 years." He raised an eyebrow. "How long do you think it took me to make that particular decision?"

"Nathan, I am flattered, so flattered, but you're in love with a glamourous image..."

Nathan arched an eye brow and wrapped her heart around his little finger with a glance. "There are any number of famous women in the world who are gorgeous - after large amounts of high-tech cosmetics, three hours with a coiffure, and with uber-fashion clothes costing as much as the budget of a small country. Now I was thoroughly enchanted, and owed a huge emotional debt, to the lead singer of the Madri-Gals, and not because of how she looked." His smile flickered through wistful nostalgic to wonderfully intimate. "Do you know when I first realized I was falling in love with you?"

Ariana could find no voice, worried he would say that it was when he first heard her sing - after his wife died.

"When your hair was tied back, you had zero makeup on, were streaked with mud, ankle deep in water buffalo droppings in a rice paddy, and laughing so hysterically at one of my lousy jokes that I had to hold you up. Realizing that feeling scared me, and I was so scared about ruining a great experience and a wonderful friendship, I promised myself not to show it. But then we won and I saw in your eyes a reflection of what I felt, I couldn't help but kiss you."

"Nathan, you don't really know me..."

"Let's see, you are the woman who loves a Belgian waffle with blueberries for breakfast, can submerge without a trace into an epic fantasy novel, glances around surreptitiously before putting an extra pickle on her sandwich, sings very quietly to herself when she thinks no one else can hear - because the music just bubbles out of her soul, is incredibly easy and interesting to talk to - when she lets her guard down, doesn't want anyone to know how much she loves to cook, looks away with a tiny tear in the corner of her left eye when she sees a mother cuddling an infant, but mutters an acerbic little comment on parenting skills when she sees a mother trying to placate a tantrum, practically purrs when she gets a foot rub after a long day; I could go on all day, you know." He grinned. "I am, most profoundly, in love with who Ariana Collins is inside. And I know I don't know all of you, but I would cherish, for the rest of my life, the adventure of finding out."

Ariana shook her head. "We couldn't. Children. With my condition, we couldn't risk..."

Nathan smiled. "I checked all the latest research. If you are on anti-virals, and have a C-section, the chances of a baby with HIV is less than 1%."

"I have a wandering life. Having a home is almost a joke. What kind of a marriage can we have..."

"I have a passport and my two kids are grown and out of the house. I can work anywhere I can access the Internet. Say the word, and you can have your own tour bus with your studio in it next to my office and our master suite. With a Jacuzzi, if you want."

"I'm an Irish citizen."

"I'm an American citizen, but my application for permanent resident alien status can be filed the minute the office opens tomorrow."

"I'm Catholic."

"By a curious coincidence, I'm catholic too. I don't think that will be much of a problem."

Swallowing hard, because the admission battered at her heart, she said, "I hae a terrible record fer bein married."

A shadow of pain flitted across his own features, but there was no hesitation, and his voice was steady. "I have a great record at being married. There isn't any reason Team Number One can't be Marriage Number One, too."

"You are making this verra difficult fer me."

"As long as it is more difficult for you so say, 'No,' I feel no shame. I love you and want to be part of your life. And I'll stack the deck as far in my favor as you will let me.

"Nathan, loving me is a death sentence, and I would spare us both that. You have to go now. I don't think we should see each other again. Or at least for a good long while." Her heart slipped that last bit in, saying it before she realized, and she despised herself for it. "I think ya need ta go now."

He smiled sadly and nodded. He took the box behind his right lapel and put it gently into her unresisting hand. "I will go, and I won't pursue you, if you think that will help. And I want you to know I will always carry the other box with me, even if they have to bury me with it. But you must promise me that if you ever, for any reason, could use my help, you will not hesitate to call. No questions asked; no commitments made. Promise?"

Her shattering heart managed to force this concession out of her mind, and she nodded, slightly, then found enough voice to whisper hoarsely, "I promise."

Nathan bent to kiss her, and her traitorous heart nearly got her lips to meet his, before her mind wrenched her head a little, permitting only a kiss on the cheek. If she had let him kiss her, she would have lost all control and begged him to stay.

He squeezed her hand, murmured, "I love you, Ariana Collins," and walked away.

CHAPTER 16 -- Ghosts and Hauntings and Partings

Ariana found her way to her room, despite her aching eyes. She locked herself in and curled up on her bed in pure misery; her carefully held mask dissolved in hot, salty tears.

After she had no more tears to cry, she took the locket out of the box and put it around her neck, kissing it and holding it tight.

Her handbag was on her bedside stand, and she stared at it through hazy, puffy eyes for a long time. Finally she pulled it onto the bed next to her and opened it. From a deep, far corner of an inside pocket, she took the ragged pieces of a small photograph and fit them back together. The handsome face of young lad with dark hair, dark, laughing eyes, and a lighthearted smile, looked back at her. Sean O'Doule. Her husband.

Ariana had three brothers and two sisters. Her sisters had gotten married young, while she had been with touring music groups since she was seventeen. She loved the whirlwind of new places and new people, and days always filled with thunderous applause. But her mother had other ideas. Ariana's brothers had all gotten married, and, with the way of the world, moved off to be closer to the families of their wives. Her older sister had turned out to have endometriosis so badly that she couldn't get pregnant. Her younger sister had turned out to be sterile. Both were trying to adopt, but their predicaments had left Ariana as their mother's only chance to have blood grandchildren close at hand; after all, daughters should settle near their mother, shouldn't they? And to her mother, her nearly thirty-year old daughter seemed on a collision course with spinsterhood more devastating than any ice berg to an ocean liner.

On break between tours, she had been introduced to Sean. Well, re-introduced to Sean. His father and her father had been business partners since time out of mind, and she had known him as an annoyingly smart, happy-go-lucky, lad who was clever with his hands and an irritating three years younger than she was. Then he turned into a tall, handsome young man with a clever, teasing sense of humor. And her mother had had her heart set on a wedding. So they kept in touch while she was on tour. And it had been grand to have an absentee boyfriend to talk and tease about with the other singers, especially one who made no demands beyond the twice weekly letters, which she seldom had time to answer, and weekly phone calls, which couldn't last more than about ten minutes, time zones and phone rates being what they were. By the next tour break she had found herself engaged, and her mother had pushed a wedding through by sheer force of maternal personality. So she found herself married to a handsome young man - who was awkward and unsatisfying in bed. She had been a virgin, and the first time had hurt, but it was supposed to get better, wasn't it? After all the fuss people made about sex, she had had high expectations. But her mind had been mostly on the next tour anyway. Poor Sean. She had never considered that he might be a shy, awkward virgin too, whose new wife had disappeared practically out from under him.