Book IV: Avi Dragon

The Great Lady

Angel applied her own sunscreen, as best she could. She sat on the chair at the little desk to smooth the cream over her arms and legs, oblivious to his attention. His hands shook on his calves when she ran her hands up under the hem of the dress. Logically, he knew she had to go beyond where it fell, but he had yet to see the thighs she was protecting.
   When she dipped below the neckline, a blob of sunscreen splattered from his arm onto his shorts. Even her neck, stretched up to get under her chin, did something to his insides. She dabbed gently across her face, instead of smearing it everywhere. He imagined this is what it would look like if she wore foundation. Without her glasses, she looked oddly vulnerable. The braids made her look younger than she had to be, as did the dress.
   Her eyes opened, a soft green, and stared right at him. It caught him unawares. She extended her bottle of sunscreen, higher SPF than his. "Could you get my back?"
   His Adam's apple bobbed twice. "Sure." He didn't plan on taking his shirt off, so he didn't need her to return the favor. Part of him considered it, but he wasn't quite confident enough to do it.
   She pivoted on the chair and pulled her braids over her shoulders. She held the bottle over one shoulder, unable to look at him. She must've read him wrong. He must be afraid of hurting her. If only everyone's eyes showed their moods...
   Avi tried to pretend he was just oiling his dragon's hide, the same as he'd always done. The problem was, her skin was too soft to be dragonhide. Dragons didn't wear dresses, with straps that he had to work around, and under.
   And he'd never seen lavender light bouncing off the wall, however briefly. He tried to pretend he hadn't noticed before she closed her eyes.
   But he had.
   She tried to pretend that his hands weren't skimming over her skin with just the right amount of pressure. She didn't remember the long months of having lotion applied just so. She hadn't become desensitized to it. This was a fresh memory, vivid and difficult to process. She had to work very hard not to shiver under those lean, guitar man hands.
   It was over too soon, but also not soon enough. She wished she had her wide-brimmed hat to hide under. He strode toward the baby to hide something else, before she turned around.
   He handed her a reusable bag full of beach paraphernalia, hooked the diaper bag over his shoulder before she could object. Then there was nothing to do but take the baby to the beach for the first time, not that she'd know that.
   They walked out onto the grassy verge, and it dawned on Angel that she'd forgotten to buy shoes. She was still wearing the slides that her sister had bought her to wear home. Home... I guess that's not here, anymore... Shoes. Shoes, of all things, made her homesick. How weird was that?
   He squeezed her arm in mute support. "Do you really need shoes? We can do that tomorrow, if you like. I think those should last until you can get into your things, but I don't mind doing a bit more retail therapy."
   She huffed a not-laugh. "I've wanted a good pair of sandals with arch support for years. If you're feeling truly masochistic, we can try the mall."
   He took the towel from the bag she held and spread it out. "Why didn't you buy a pair, if you wanted them that long?"
   She plopped down with an awkward sort of grace. "The ones I liked were all too expensive." She made the admission to the rocks in front of her. She did her odd, unique Angel shrug. "The ones I have in the storage unit are too thin on the bottom. All style, no substance. But," she sighed, "that's what I could afford. I checked the secondhand stores, of course. That's why it was a long process: you never know what they'll have, or when."
   "Oh..."
   Angel murmured, almost too quietly for him to hear, "Heyla, Lady. Been a while." She stared out at the Lake for a while without moving.
   After a while, she sifted through the rocks around her, in what he thought was an aimless, nervous habit. He sat next to her, with the baby in front of them in her car seat, and opened the umbrella. He didn't need to tell her that she could afford good shoes now. She knew that, and it embarrassed her. He followed her lead, and focused on what he could do, instead of worrying about what he couldn't change.
   "Nice!" she crowed. "Hey, have you got an empty bottle, or something?"
   "What?" He was thrown off-guard, until she showed him a pretty, amber-colored rock.
   "It's an agate. Well, a piece of one. I don't usually find chunks this big; 'specially not on this part of the beach. I was just looking for beach glass."
   He held the rock up to the sunlight, and found it see-through. He checked the diaper bag, but there wasn't even an empty baby food jar. She was just too efficient.
   "Want me to go buy a soda or something?"
   She shook her head. "Soda bottles have narrow necks. Gatorade and Powerade bottles work best. Some tea bottles have wide necks, but I don't know what they'll have in the hotel."
   He smiled at her braids, for she was already on the hunt for more pretty rocks, or glass. "Okay, I'll go look for something with a wide mouth."
   "Try a frog," she joked.
   "What?" he laughed.
   "It's a children's book my cousin loved. Never mind."
   He kissed her shoulder impulsively, then leapt to his feet to go in search of a container for her rocks. If this small thing made her happy, he would indulge it even more happily. She absently nabbed the handle of the umbrella before it could blow away, showing the baby the pretty things she found.
   He walked back to the hotel with a bright smile that never wavered.