Gladly Beyond by Nichole Van

Author:Nichole Van [Van, Nichole]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Fiorenza Publishing
Published: 2016-04-05T07:00:00+00:00

Nineteen

Dante

Claire froze. And then jumped to her feet, walking away from the table and around some of my mom’s potted lemons.

I shot daggers at Tennyson.

“No one ever listens to my warnings.” He nudged my foot under the table, nodding his head toward Claire. “Go talk with her. If it makes you feel any better, she doesn’t stay upset for long.”

I leaned forward, mouth open.

“No.” He kicked me again. “Don’t even ask it. Her emotions are her own. I’m not spilling how she feels about you.”

“What good is having a brother who can feel others’ emotions then?” I half-laughed.

A beat.

Tennyson’s eyes got that weary too-knowing look. The one full of shadows and things unspoken.

“Not much, Dante.” He sat back on a sigh. “Really not much at all.”

Damn.

I held his gaze for a moment, dragging all my love for him to the surface, letting it flood me.

Feel that.

I stood, tossing my napkin on the table.

Tennyson used to tattle on us as kids, saying Branwell and I were throwing mean emotions at him.

We always denied it, but he was totally right. We did. Anger, jealousy, scorn, disdain . . . I’m sure he got every nasty emotion possible from us over the years.

Love, acceptance, devotion. Those were the emotions I channeled when around Tennyson nowadays. He had lost so much more than just a leg in Afghanistan, not to mention the events afterward—

I stopped myself right there.

Better to think about Tennyson when he wasn’t around to feel all my thinking.

I rounded the corner. Claire stood at the iron railing on the edge of the terrace, hands hugging her arms, looking out toward the Duomo.

Fitting.

Clouds were moving in. A breeze ruffled her hair.

I wanted to wrap my arms around her waist from behind, snug her tight against my chest and just hold her until the tension passed. Let her soak up my strength.

Instead, I joined her at the railing, gripping the iron tight to keep my hands and feet still.

Silence.

“Let’s go over my problems with chasing a possible regression in the Duomo, shall we?” She spoke without looking in my direction.

Score one for honesty. I had to give her that.

I would always know where I stood with Claire.

“First, despite your hedging on the Sandbox Rule, we’re definitely drifting into trouble territory here—”

“Regressions aren’t plagiarism, Claire.” I moved to lean against the railing, angling my body toward hers. The need to study her winning out.

“No, having the occasional lunch or dinner together isn’t plagiarism.” She brushed a strand of hair out of her mouth. “Actively pursuing a joint answer to the Colonel’s sketch is. It’s like sharing exam answers or copying homework.”

“No. That’s cheating. Not plagiarism.”

“Wow. Splitting a very fine hair there.”

“If I have to.”

“You should have been a lawyer.” She rolled her eyes. Her knuckles were white, gripping her upper arms.

“How would the Colonel ever find out about this?” I relaxed an elbow into the railing. “On the outside, we’re just colleagues visiting a completely unrelated Uccello monument in the Duomo.”

“Well, I’m having dinner

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