White Chocolate Moments

by Lori Wick

  "How did she seem?" Sam asked Violet. His meeting was done and he'd called as soon as he was free.

  "A little tense:'

  "Did you walk in with her?"

  "She didn't want that:'

  "You should have anyway."

  Violet was dead silent after that, and Sam knew he'd overstepped. Violet had told him early in her employment that she would do everything in her power to do things as he liked, but when it came to judgment calls, she expected him to trust her and even be forgiving if she erred. She was the only one of his employees to ever stand up to him in this way. And she had never let him down.

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  Sam backtracked.

  "What made you decide not to walk her in?"

  "She has her own way of handling this, Sam. I'm not going to push in where I'm not wanted. She knows I'll do anything she wants."

  "All right:' he agreed, but still wished he knew more. He thanked Violet and got off the phone, turning immediately in his calendar to see if he could get home before 3:00.

  When Arcineh got home, she found her desk had arrived, and more of the things from her bedroom. She had lived upstairs only a few days at her grandfather's--the climb had been too hard on crutches--and even though it seemed strange to have these things here, she appreciated Violet's efforts.

  Little by little that woman had been bringing Arcineh's possessions to Sam's house. Her clothing was all there, and everything else Violet thought she might want. Now the desk was there, the one from her bedroom. Arcineh touched it and felt emotion flood through her.

  She remembered the day her mother bought it for her. For a long time it had sat on the screen porch, a place where Arcineh loved to do her homework in good weather. Only recently had she moved it to her bedroom.

  Without warning, tears filled her eyes. The enormity of what she'd lost and how life was never going to be the same crushed down on her like a huge boulder. She stood very still and cried, sobbing into her hands and desperately wanting her mother.

  Violet had come up to check on her and was almost at the door when Arcineh broke down. That woman did not intrude but stood outside in the wide hallway and felt her own tears run unchecked down her face.

  This was the way Sam found them. He had meant to be home already, but the streets had been clogged. He watched Violet's slim

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  shoulders shake and could hear Arcineh from the top of the stairs. He moved a little, and his housekeeper heard him.

  "How long?" he asked her.

  "Just a few minutes:' Violet managed.

  Sam nodded but stood still. He didn't know if he should leave Arcineh alone or not. She had not been overly teary--she never was--making him think she might need this. She might feel squelched if she knew he and Violet were listening.

  Sam touched Violet's shoulder and motioned her to follow him downstairs. The two went to the kitchen, hoping Arcineh would come there when she was ready.

  "Your dance teacher called today:' Violet said to Arcineh when she came to the kitchen some 30 minutes later. She found her grandfather eating a snack. He gave her a muffled greeting around a mouthful of food.

  "What did Geneva want?" Arcineh asked, taking a few crackers from the package Sam had opened.

  "She wanted to know if you were coming back anytime soon:' Arcineh only nodded. Geneva Sperry had not even mentioned her returning when she had visited in the hospital.

  "What will you do?" Sam asked, having watched her closely the whole time.

  "I don't think I want to dance anymore:' Arcineh's voice was quiet. "But I don't know how to tell Geneva that"

  Sam wanted to tell her not to give it up, but he remembered what Violet had said. Arcineh seemed to know what she needed at times, and Sam saw no reason to push her in this.

  "How was school?" he asked next.

  Arcineh's sigh was huge--a sigh of relief. "It was okay. People

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  stopped staring by lunchtime, and only one person made a crack about your money"

  "What was said?" Sam asked in genuine curiosity

  "Just that you have even more than my folks did, and something stupid like my situation could have been worse'

  The anger on Sam's face was unmistakable. He'd never heard of such nonsense, and his opinion of the school that Arcineh attended, never having favored it, sank even lower.

  "What did you say?" he asked in a voice tight with irritation.

  "I ignored it:' Arcineh said offhandedly, reaching for more crackers and adding cheese. "You know what rich kids are like."

  "I think I do, but what do you mean?" Sam was calming in the wake of her nonchalant attitude.

  "They believe their money defines them and makes them special. It's pitiful'

  "You don't think you're special?"

  "I'm very special, but it has nothing to do with money. Only an idiot would believe that."

  Sam was so struck by the fact that he and Arcineh had never talked this way before that for a moment he couldn't speak. Arcineh took his silence as negative.

  "Do you think money makes you special, Grandpa?"

  "No, I don't. I think you have the right idea."

  "Is this person a friend of yours?" Violet asked, unable to let it drop.

  "Not at all." Arcineh made a face. "He's older and completely full of himself"

  The adults fell silent then, their eyes meeting for just a moment. Arcineh was going to town on the crackers. At another time Violet might have reminded her of dinner, but these days any food she ate seemed to be a bonus.

  And Violet was pleased she stayed quiet. By the time she served dinner, Arcineh was hungry again. Violet took this as a good sign. Things seemed to be finding a routine. Arcineh was starting to sound

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  and act more like the girl she had been, and even though "normal" meant that Sam worked too much, it still had a right feel to it.

  Right up to the moment Geneva Sperry paid Arcineh another visit.

  (

  Violet and Arcineh had been home from school for an hour when the front doorbell rang. Sam Bryant did not get many visitors, and they were not expecting anyone, but Violet still answered the door. She didn't know this woman by sight but somehow knew who she was.

  "Hello:' Geneva said softly. "Is Arcie home?"

  "Yes, she is," Violet answered, moving back to allow her entrance. "May I tell her who's calling?"

  "I think we must have talked on the phone. I'm Geneva Sperry, her dance teacher."

  "Please come in and sit down," Violet invited. While Geneva headed into the family room, Violet took the stairs to Arcineh's room. Arcineh heard her coming and came into the hall.

  "Your dance teacher is here'

  Arcineh looked nervous, a look that brought Violet's chin in the air. "What's wrong?" Violet wished to know.

  "I don't want to tell her. She won't like it:'

  "That's her problem, not yours."

  Arcineh looked the housekeeper in the eye and knew why she'd always liked her. Violet Kray was no one's fool. Arcineh went toward the stairs. She smiled at the sight of Geneva in a bright pink and orange outfit, her hair a shade of purple this week, and realized for the first time she was as flamboyant a dresser outside the studio as in.

  "Hello, Arcie," the older woman greeted, hugging the child in genuine affection.

  "Hello, Geneva."

  "May I talk to you?"

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  "Yes:'

  It was not lost on Geneva that Arcineh sat as far from her as politeness would allow. The old Arcineh would have taken the other end of the plush leather sofa, but not today.

  "I was wondering, how are you doing?" Geneva forced herself to ask this question when all she wanted to do was tell Arcineh to return to her studio that week.

  "I'm doing fine."

  Geneva nodded, sure that was all the more she would say. "How is your hip?"

  "It's not too bad. It still hurts some."

  "Well, I want your doctor to give you p
ermission to come back,

  but even when he does, we'll take it very slow for a while'

  "I'm not coming back," Arcineh said quietly, and then waited. Geneva did not miss the stubborn, albeit guarded, look in the

  child's eyes. As passionate as she was about Arcineh's talent, the

  teacher knew better than to argue with her.

  "When did you decide this?"

  "Just a few days ago. I don't want to dance anymore."

  "Can you tell me why?"

  Arcineh shrugged. She wasn't keeping a secret. She truly didn't know.

  "Well, I'll miss you:' Geneva said working to keep her voice calm. "And if you change your mind--" She deliberately let the sentence hang and then changed the subject. Geneva asked Arcineh about school and how she liked living with her grandfather, but the subject of dance did not come up again.

  Arcineh enjoyed seeing Geneva but was relieved when she left and she realized her teacher had not pressed her. She had not been playing games. At the moment Arcineh had no desire to ever dance again.

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  "How are you?" Quinn asked Arcineh the moment they were alone.

  "Most days all right:' Arcineh told her, unbelievably glad to see her cousin acting normal and with not a hint of tears.

  It had taken several tries, but this weekend had finally worked--no horse shows, not too busy or tired, and Tiffany itching to come to Chicago. She had brought Austin as well.

  "Have you been back to your house?"

  "Just once:'

  Quinn shuddered a little, but Arcineh didn't notice. The thought of having her parents die was horrifying to Quinn. She was sure that she would die as well. "Do you remember anything about the accident?" she suddenly asked.

  Arcineh slowly shook her head no. "I remember feeling sleepy in the backseat, and then I woke up in the hospital. I must have fallen asleep:'

  Quinn nodded, still regretting not being at the party that night. She'd told herself that there would be no tears this weekend, but at the moment that command was taking all she had.

  "Are you going cry?" Arcineh looked upset at the thought.

  "No!" Quinn denied with a face that said Arcineh was overreacting. And it worked. Arcineh nodded and changed the subject, just what Quinn needed.

  "How's it going?" Tiffany asked her father, determined not to ask if Arcineh could live with them but hoping her father would mention it.

  "I think all right. We're settling in well:'

  "That's good. What have you done with the house?"

  "Personally, nothing. Violet arranged to have Arcineh's desk delivered, and she's been continually bringing her clothing and effects. We'll have to tackle the whole house this summer"

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  "I can help if you'd like Tiffany offered, a part of her still believing that Trevor and Isabella were there.

  "I'll plan on that"

  Tiffany began to feel better. She had not seen her father protective of Arcineh before. Their last visit, the weekend of the funeral, was still heavy on her mind. For just a little time, she had thought that Quinn might have slipped from his mind. Everyone in the family knew that Quinn was the favorite grandchild, and that fact was as important to Tiffany as it was to Quinn--perhaps more.

  "I'd like to eat at the Rotisserie tonight:' Tiffany suggested. "Are you and Arcie up for it?"

  "That sounds good:'

  Tiffany relaxed a little more. Her father enjoyed eating amazing ribs at the 12-story restaurant that overlooked the lake, and he'd not been swift to say that he'd have to check with Arcineh. Even on the drive up, Tiffany had feared too many changes at once but realized she was wrong. She was suddenly very glad she had come.

  "Are you going to counseling?" Austin asked of Arcineh when he found the girls in Arcineh's room.

  "Get out of here, Austin:' Quinn took no time in saying. We didn't say you could come in:'

  Austin ignored his sister and came as far as the footboard on the bed.

  "Well, Arcie, are you?"

  "No; she frowned at him. "What for?"

  Austin shrugged. He'd been quiet and withdrawn since his uncle and aunt died, and he'd heard his mother mention counseling to his father. He figured if he might be going, Arcineh would certainly be on someone's couch.

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  "Will you please leave?" Quinn said, using a tone that made a mockery of the word.

  "I'm going, I'm going. You're probably talking about stupid stuff anyhow:"

  Quinn and Arcineh just rolled eyes at each other, and when Austin left, Arcineh got up and locked the door.

  "No privacy at all! And in my own room:' she muttered on the way back to the bed, not noticing Quinn's face. Something about that statement stung the older girl, and she wasn't exactly sure why.

  "So tell me Arcineh commanded, starting where they'd left off, "Do you still like that guy at the stables?"

  "Yes, but he likes the owner's daughter:'

  "How old is she?"

  "His age-16:'

  "I thought he was only 14:'

  "No, that was the other one Quinn answered as a matter of course. She fell in and out of love on a regular basis.

  "You'll be 13 in just a month:' Arcineh tried to encourage her. "You never know when he might notice:'

  Quinn couldn't help but smile. She knew she was pretty but it was more than that. Arcineh had sounded like her old self: confident, upbeat, and willing to encourage.

  "I am thinking about changing my hair:' Quinn offered.

  "Show me!" Arcineh exclaimed, instantly into that, and the day was swallowed up. The two girls worked on each other's hair until it was time to leave for the restaurant.

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  Chapter Three

  "Do I hear music?" Sam asked of Violet when he came to the kitchen on Monday. For all the years she'd worked for him, Sam had gone directly to the kitchen when he arrived home to check with her and have a snack.

  Violet smiled before saying, "She's been in the family room with the stereo on for about an hour."

  "Is she dancing?"

  "I didn't check:'

  Sam was already working on an apple, so he didn't comment on what he was thinking, but he wondered if maybe Arcineh and Quinn had talked about her dancing. Austin had been quiet and moody all weekend, but the girls had visited for hours, never seeming to grow sad or weary of the other's company.

  Sam had had very little time with Quinn, not the norm when she visited, but Quinn hadn't seemed to mind. Sam had missed his usual visit with his older granddaughter, who was sensitive like her mother, but knew Arcineh needed her more.

  Sam finished the apple and headed in his granddaughter's direction.

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  She was not dancing, but the look on her face told him she was enjoying the music.

  "How does my stereo compare to yours?" he asked, taking a seat across from her.

  Arcineh smiled. "I think I like yours better."

  Sam grinned at her, and for a moment let the music wash over him. He knew Arcineh had been studying ballroom dancing and suspected that this rendition of "You Made Me Love You" was something she'd danced to. Sam's eyes drifted to her face often. She looked thoughtful but not as though she was yearning to be on her feet. He was starkly reminded of the accident.

  "How is your hip feeling?"

  "Good"

  "Not stiff?"

  "A little in the mornings sometimes:'

  Arcineh's eyes stayed on him, and she knew he had something on his mind.

  "What's wrong?" She minced no words.

  "I was just wondering if you want to go to your father's office tomorrow?"

  "When?"

  "Whenever you want:'

  "I have a math test in the morning, but then I think I could leave:'

  "Do I call or send a note that I'm coming for you?"

  "Could I maybe just go and take the test and leave?"

  "Will they allow that?"

  "Sure Arcineh answered easily, knowing th
at kids left for far less significant reasons. "Will we go to the cemetery too?" Arcineh suddenly asked.

  "I wasn't planning on it, but we can:' Sam said, though he didn't want to.

  Arcineh swiftly shook her head no, and Sam knew that on this

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  matter they agreed. The following day's events did not come up again, but they proceeded just as Arcineh had predicted. Sam took her to school long enough to take her test and then took her to see her father's office.

  "How did it go?" Violet asked Sam when they returned. Arcineh had gone directly to her room.

  Sam shrugged a little. "She didn't say much, but I think we'll bring all of his effects here. That way if she wants to see them or have them, they'll be available'

  Sam could still see her in his mind. Her face horribly pale, Arcineh slowly lowered herself into her father's desk chair and shivered as though she were freezing. Sam didn't speak; his own heart felt frozen in his chest. His son was gone. He couldn't remember the last time he'd told Trevor that he loved him or was proud of him, but he'd felt all of that and more. And now he was gone.

  "Should I check on her?" Violet asked, cutting into Sam's reverie. "I'll do it," Sam told her, starting that way, but Arcineh beat him to it. She was already coming down the stairs.

  "Can I have my dad's desk chair?" she blurted as soon as she saw her grandfather.

  "Certainly"

  Sam didn't know what she had expected him to say, but he could see that she was fighting tears. In his opinion, everything in the office already belonged to her.

  "When can I have it?" she choked out.

  "Today. I'll put it in my car and bring it to you:"

  Arcineh nodded, but the trembling was back.

  "It's all right:' Sam soothed as he went to her. "I didn't take you there so I could start getting rid of things. We'll bring it all here and tuck it away for you:'

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  Arcineh clung to her grandfather, so desperate to hug her father that she didn't think she would make it. Her little body trembled with the intensity of her feelings, and Sam closed his eyes in equal pain.

  Violet came from the kitchen just then to check on them both, spotted their embrace, and backed away. At the moment she felt as they both did: Life would never feel normal again.

  "Mr. Bryant?" his secretary, Carlee, said, ringing him in his office midmorning the next day. "There is a Ms. Geneva Sperry here to see you. She says she's Arcie's dance teacher:'