Part 16: link


    “Wake up, darlin’, we’re here,” Arthur says quietly, stroking Gwen’s cheek.
    “Mmm,” she scrunches against him and blinks her eyes open. “Did I fall asleep again?”
    “Yes,” he chuckles, baciare her forehead. “We’re here,” he repeats. She looks out and sees a house, not overlarge, nicely kept. A home. “Come on.”
    He climbs out of the car and opens her door again. They walk to the front door and it opens before Arthur can lift his finger to the doorbell.
    “Arthur!” An older man with white hair and expressive eyebrows beams at them, opening the door. “This must be the lovely Guinevere,” he smiles at her.
    “Hello, sir, nice to meet you,” Gwen says, offering her hand. He ignores it and hugs her.
    “Gaius, are they here?” a woman’s voice approaches now, and a small woman bustles into the foyer, all soft lines and twinkling eyes. “Morgana! They’re here!” she yells over her shoulder.
    “Be right down,” a voice floats down the stairs.
    “Hello, dear, I’m Aunt Alice,” Alice says, hugging Gwen as well. “Oh, let me take your coat,” she says, puzzling over the giant parka Gwen is still wearing.
    “Hello,” Gwen says, a bit overwhelmed at all the hugging. “It’s Arthur’s coat,” she explains. “Mine was buried somewhere.”
    “Auntie, Uncle, you’re gonna smother her,” Arthur protests, bringing Gwen back to his side.
    “It’s all right,” Gwen says, giggling a little, nervous. “I was just surprised, is all.”
    “Welcome to Milwaukee, Guinevere,” Gaius says.
    “Gwen, please,” she tells them. “Arthur seems to insist on callin’ me Guinevere, but most folks call me Gwen.”
    “Gwen it is, then,” he nods.
    Footfalls on the steps pull their attention to the staircase. Morgana floats down, all beautiful pale skin and flowing raven hair.
    “Hey, Morgana,” Arthur greets her casually.
    “Arthur, how’s my preferito cousin?” she grins at him.
    “Your only cousin?” he grins back.
    “That, too.”
    “I am fantastic. Just spent all giorno in a car with the woman I love. Couldn’t be better.”
    “You have got it bad,” Morgana says, looking at Gwen now.
    “Morgana, this is my fiancée, Guinevere,” he introduces them.
    “Gwen,” she says, holding her hand out.
    “No,” Morgana says with a grin, hugging Gwen.
    Must be a family trait. “Thought I’d give it a try,” Gwen says, laughing now.
    “Are te hungry? We waited cena for you,” Alice says.
    “I am,” Arthur says, looking at Gwen. She nods.
    “You can unpack the car after we eat,” Gaius says.
    “Miss Alice? Can te point me to your…”
    “Oh, yes, of course. First door on the left, dear,” Alice says, pointing. “And call me Aunt Alice, Gwen!” she calls down the hall after her.
    Gwen turns back and smiles at the friendly woman, relieved that Arthur’s relatives are open and friendly. Of course they are. They wouldn’t have taken us in if they weren’t. Arthur wouldn’t have even asked them. I wonder if he asked o if they offered. I bet he was willing to stay in a hotel and they offered their home to us.
    She exits the bathroom and finds her way to the kitchen, following the sounds and smells.
    Arthur walks over to her as soon as he sees her. “You need to call Elyan, right?” he asks.
    “Yeah, probably should,” she nods.
    “Uncle, Guinevere needs to call her brother to let him know we got here safe,” Arthur says.
    “Why don’t te take her to the den? She can use the phone there, where it’s not so loud,” he says.
    “We’re not loud!” Morgana protests.
    “Oh, give the girl some privacy,” Gaius says. “You’ll have all sorts of time to get to know her.”
    Arthur leads Gwen into Gaius’ den, a attraversare, croce between an office and a parlor. It’s all dark wood and dark green walls, with a scrivania, reception on one side and a divano on the other.
    “He used to have a coffee tavolo in front of this couch,” Arthur mutters absently. “Phone is on the desk.”
    “It’s all right that I’m dialin’ long distance?” she asks, lifting the phone.
    “Yes, it’s fine, just dial,” he says.
    Gwen dials, looking around the room while she waits. “Elyan, it’s Gwen,” she says.
    “Yes, we’re here, sicuro, cassetta di sicurezza and sound. No, no trouble, not really,” she say, chuckling a little. “Well, some old folks gave us some dirty looks at the rest stop. And a policeman pulled me over when I was drivin’ ’cause he couldn’t figure out what a colored girl was doin’ drivin’ a car with Tennessee plates through Illinois all alone…”
    “Yes, he was a damn fool. What? Oh, Arthur was lyin’ down, sleepin’. He woke up and set that policeman straight right quick though, let me tell you,” she says, grinning at Arthur.
    “Yes, Elyan, he did. And we made a new friend somewhere in the middle of Illinois. She owned the restaurant where we had lunch.”
    She listens for a minute, laughs, and then listens again. “Elyan, they’re waitin’ cena on us, I gotta go.”
    “Be good, Baby Brother. I Amore you.” She listens a moment longer, then hangs up. She sighs and walks over to Arthur, who stands and wraps his arms around her.
    “What was funny?” he asks, baciare the superiore, in alto of her head as she leans it against his chest.
    “He told Latoya what we did. Swore her to secrecy, o’ course,” she interjects, looking up at him. “She sprayed sweet tè across the kitchen.”
    Arthur laughs. “I’m sure that was quite a sight,” he says. “Come on, I’m hungry.” He takes her hand and they walk back to the kitchen.
    “I’m gonna make a stop here, I think,” Arthur pauses, ducking into the bathroom.
    “I ain’t gonna wait for you,” she calls, and she hears his laughter behind the closed door.
    “How is your brother?” Gaius asks as she re-enters the kitchen.
    “He’s good, thank you,” she says. Morgana indicates a chair and Gwen sits.
    “Older o younger?” Morgana asks.
    “Younger, da a year.”
    Arthur comes strolling back in now, his shoes off already.
    “Did te wash your hands?” Alice asks, bringing a piatto to the table.
    “Of course I did, Auntie,” Arthur answers, holding them up for inspection.
    Dinner is roast beef with potatoes and carrots, and it’s delicious. Gwen can tell that Arthur’s family is being polite, but they really want to ask them a million questions. Her own nervousness makes her hold her own tongue as well, and cena is a quiet affair.
    “Oh, for heaven’s sake,” Morgana finally exclaims, breaking the silence. “This is stupid. We all have questions, let’s just ask them.”
    Gwen hides her grin behind her napkin as she wipes her face. I think I like Morgana.
    “What would y’all like to know?” Gwen asks.
    “How did te meet?”
    “I knocked her on her backside,” Arthur says.
    Gaius’ impressive eyebrows rise. “Would te care to elaborate?”
    So they tell them. The whole story. Dr. King’s speech, the accident afterward, Gwen’s father’s death, Percy and Duncan and Ezra, the trial. Arthur talks, then Gwen interrupts and picks up where he left off, then Arthur starts in again.
    Arthur’s relatives are so interested that da the time Arthur and Gwen finish, they realize they’ve been sitting at the tavolo for well over an hour.
    “We did try to deny our feelings,” Arthur finally says.
    “I think I tried a little harder than te did, Baby,” Gwen says.
    “Yeah,” Arthur admits, grinning sheepishly. “But I did try. I think I just accepted it sooner. Merlin’s fault,” he decides.
    “Ah, yes, the mysterious Merlin,” Morgana says. “Oh, I can ask you,” she turns to Gwen. “Is Merlin a real person o is Arthur just making him up?”
    Gwen laughs. “He’s real, and he’s a charmin’ man. Very talented.”
    “Oh, so he was tellin’ the truth,” Morgana teases.
    “Morgana, stop teasing Arthur,” Alice says, finally standing to clear the dishes. “I would like to meet this Merlin some time, though, if he’s as good a musician as te say,” she adds.
    “Are te a musician, Miss—I mean, Aunt Alice?” Gwen asks, standing as well. “Can I help?”
    “Yes, I am, Gwen, I teach Pianoforte lessons. And te just sit back down. You’ve had a long giorno and te don’t need to help clear. Morgana, however…” she looks pointedly at her daughter.
    Morgana sighs and stands as Gwen sits again. She really wants to help, but she doesn’t want to insult them, either.
    “I know te want to help, darlin’. Try again tomorrow if it means that much to you,” Arthur leans over and says softly.
    She smiles at Arthur and nods. “We should unload the car,” she suggests.
    “Mmm. Right,” he stands.
    “I’ll help,” Gaius joins them as they walk to the front door again, pausing so Arthur can put his shoes back on.
    “You should’ve left your shoes on, Arthur,” Gwen sighs.
    “I hate shoes,” Arthur says. “Heh. We talked about preferiti in the car, but we didn’t talk about things we don’t like. superiore, in alto o’ my list: shoes.”
    Gwen laughs. I Amore this relaxed, silly Arthur. “I don’t like tuna fish,” she tells him.
    “Noted,” he nods, heading out the door.
    Gwen hauls her big gray suitcase in and meets Alice in the foyer. “First on the right, dear,” Alice directs her.
    Arthur follows with a box, and Alice stops him. “Is that yours o Gwen’s?”
    “Mine,” Arthur says, heading in the same direction as Gwen.
    “Where do te think you’re going, young man?” Alice asks. Gaius strolls through with another box, one of Gwen’s, and he passes through to the guest room.
    “Um, guest room?” Arthur asks.
    “Nice try,” Alice says, her hands on her hips. Morgana is watching, amused, from the entrance to the kitchen.
    “I don’t get to sleep in the guest room?” He sets the box down.
    “Are te married yet?” Alice asks. da now Gwen has returned and is watching with interest as well.
    “No. But we’re engaged. She’s got Mama’s ring and everything,” he points at Gwen’s hand.
    “Den,” Alice declares, pointing.
    “But…”
    “Arthur…”
    “We wouldn’t do anything, just sleep.”
    “Den,” she repeats. “The sofa pulls out into a bed.”
    Arthur pouts, but picks up the box anyway. “I honestly didn’t think you’d let me, but I had to try,” he sighs, heading back to the tana, den where Gwen called her brother earlier. Ah, so that’s why the tavolo was gone.
    “I’ll bring te some bedding in just a minute,” Alice calls sweetly after him. He grunts a reply.

xXx

    “Can I help you, miss?” Arthur’s voice in her doorway makes Gwen jump and she quickly closes her suitcase.
    “Arthur, te startled me!” she exclaims. “How’s your dad?” she asks.
    “Same as always. He was happy we arrived safely. I think he’s still in shock that we actually left,” he says, leaning against the doorframe.
    “So am I,” she chuckles.
    He steps inside, walking towards her. “So what’s in there that’s so important, anyway?” he asks, nodding at the suitcase.
    “Nothin’ that te need to be seein’ right now,” she says, sitting on the suitcase.
    “Underwear?” He grins at her.
    “Arthur!” she exclaims again, but she starts giggling even though she is blushing now.
    “Must be,” he decides.
    “Yes, but there are other things as well. te can help me unpack, but do one of those boxes.” She points.
    “Arthur,” Gaius appears in the doorway now, knocking as he pokes his head in.
    “Yeah?”
    “Do te have any boxes for the office?”
    “Bein’ shipped there directly. Prob’ly be here Wednesday,” he says.
    Gaius nods. “All right. te two need anything?”
    “No thank you, sir,” Gwen says. Arthur shakes his head no.
    “I would prefer Uncle Gaius,” he says, smiling.
    Gwen smiles back at him and looks at her hands.
    “All right then, good night,” Gaius says, turning to leave.
    “Um, Uncle Gaius?” Gwen asks.
    “Yes, dear?”
    “Thank te for takin’ us in. We really appreciate it,” she says. “It was mighty nice of you.”
    “You’re welcome. And it has nothing to do with nice. You’re family,” he declares. “Now, I’m off to watch The Defenders.” He turns to leave again, pauses, pushes Gwen’s door wide open, and strolls casually down the hall.
    “Subtle, Uncle,” Arthur calls after him. They can hear the older man’s laughter fading down the hall.
    They unpack quietly for a bit, Gwen surreptitiously tucking undergarments into a dresser Alice had indicated she could use, Arthur trying to be good and not peek.
    “Arthur?” she asks after a bit.
    “Yes?”
    “Did te really want to sleep in here with me? I mean, did te really think I would… I mean…” she sighs. “I don’t know what I mean.” She sits heavily on the bed.
    Arthur sits beside her. “Guinevere, I would never do anything to make te uncomfortable or… um… compromise your virtue in any way,” he says softly, taking her hand. “I mean, of course I would Amore to sleep in here with you, in this nice comfy letto with te in my arms instead of all alone on a thin hide-a-bed mattress. And I meant it when I told Alice that we wouldn’t… do anything. At least not until we’re married. But even if my Aunt and Uncle would allow it, if you detto no, I would still sleep in the den.”
    “Oh,” Gwen says, the imagery of her sleeping tucked in his embrace throwing her logic for a loop momentarily. “I’m just surprised te tried, I guess. That te thought it was a possibility.”
    “I suppose deep down I knew it never would be,” he admits. “And part of me just likes gettin’ a rise out of my aunt.”
    “And te are a man, after all,” she teases, nudging him with her elbow.
    “I am at that,” he declares. “Speaking of when we’re married… when do te want to get married, anyway?”
    “Well, I reckon te don’t want to wait too terribly long,” Gwen says, leaning her head on his shoulder now.
    “Not really…”
    “I’d really like it if Elyan could come up for it,” she says.
    “I’m sure we could work that out.”
    “How about over Thanksgiving? That would give him time for travel without having to miss any work.”
    “Thanksgiving weekend it is, then,” Arthur nods. “November 30. Should be an easy enough data to remember, too,” he grins.
    “Important,” she nods. “You think Merlin’d come, too?”
    “We can ask. Bet he would.”
    Arthur yawns. “You should go to bed, you’re tired,” Gwen says, lifting her head from his shoulder. She reaches up and touches his cheek. “I had two naps; te just had one interrupted one.”
    “You don’t mind?” he asks, turning his face to baciare her palm.
    “I just told te to go to bed, didn’t I?” she asks, half-smiling.
    “I need a goodnight kiss,” he says quietly, leaning towards her now.
    “Mmm, I think we can—”
    He cuts her words off with his lips, pressing them softly against hers, snaking his hands around her waist now.
    Her hand on his cheek slides back to thread into his hair as he deepens the kiss, asking for entrance with his tongue, sliding it along her lower lip. She relents, unable to resist him, baciare him back, caressing his tongue with hers.
    She slowly pulls away, slightly dazed. “Go to bed, Baby,” she whispers, baciare his cheek.
    “You know, for never having properly kissed a man before me, you’re pretty darn good at it,” he remarks, standing. She grins at her hands, blushing.
    Arthur looks back at her from the doorway and smiles at her. “Good night, my love.”
    Once he disappears down the hall, Gwen returns to her suitcase and pulls out a parcel wrapped in black crepe paper. She holds it to her chest a moment, then walks out, one door down and across the hall.
    She pauses outside the door, hearing Musica playing. “One Fine Day” da the Chiffons. Gwen listens for a moment. Wow, Morgana really can’t sing at all. She knocks and the Musica stops.
    “Hi, Gwen, my Musica wasn’t too loud, was it?” Morgana asks, opening the door.
    “Not at all. I didn’t even hear it until I got right outside your door.”
    “What have te got there?” she asks.
    “Can I come in?”
    “Of course.” She steps back and lets Gwen in.
    “I need to hide this from Arthur,” Gwen says. “It’s my Mama’s wedding dress. I’m fixin’ to wear it for our weddin’.”
    “Ooo!” Morgana exclaims, closing the door, suddenly very excited. “Let me see, let me see!”
    Gwen unwraps it to reveal a beautiful cream-colored dress. It has short sleeves and the corpetto criss-crosses down to a beaded waist above a long skirt. Simple and elegant.
    “It’s beautiful,” Morgana sighs. “Your mom had good taste. Does it fit?”
    Gwen nods. “I tried it on Friday before I packed it, to make sure,” she admits. “I can sew, so if I needed to alter something, I could have. But my mama and I were the same size, luckily.”
    “Were?”
    “She died five years ago,” Gwen says.
    “I’m sorry to hear that,” Morgana says, smiling sadly. “But we need to hang this up so it doesn’t wrinkle. Here, we’ll put it in my closet. Arthur would never even think to look there.”
    “Thank you,” Gwen says. “He can be kind of nosy, and I don’t want him seein’ this. It’s bad luck.”
    “That it is,” Morgana agrees. “When are te getting married?”
    “We just decided on November 30. That way my brother can come, because it’s over Thanksgiving.”
    “You’ll need a avvolgere o a scialle o you’ll freeze with those short sleeves,” Morgana says, putting the dress on a hanger and placing it inconspicuously in her closet.
    “That was something else I wanted to ask you,” Gwen says.
    “What’s that?”
    “I think I’m going to need some warm clothes.”
    “Oh, honey, we can definitely go shopping,” Morgana says, grinning.