Unseen Genius: Chapter 17

Unseen Genius: Chapter 17: A Birthday Surprise


Brielle paced the length of her kitchen while vigorously beating the chocolate cake mix in her arms. This was her second attempt at making the cake, a fact which was highly irritating. The first pan had burnt in the oven when her attention had been pulled away from the task for a moment, a split second.


Oh, who was she kidding? She had been too busy staring at Erik to notice the smoke drifting out of the oven. Brielle had been trying to puzzle out what exactly it was about him that was so alluring. Though the mask upon his face was an obvious source for the deep mystery which seemed to saturate his every pore, it could not explain away the magnetic pull of his personality. Whenever he came into the room, her eyes automatically fixed upon him. Every time he spoke, her attention was jerked to his words. His every movement, every expression was utterly captivating.  


She sighed deeply and glared at the vexing man across the room. He was now lazily leaning against the kitchen table, one foot crossed easily over the other. Brielle quickly narrowed her eyes at Erik when she noticed his finger dipping into the icing bowl.


Stabbing her finger at him across the room, she squared her shoulders. “I will not tell you again Erik! Keep your fingers out of that bowl or so help me God…” her threat dwindled off unfinished. He looked sufficiently sheepish to convince her he would do as she asked.


When she turned her attention to pouring the batter into the pan, Erik secretly dipped his finger back into the icing for another taste. “I was under the impression when I agreed to accompany you here that there would be an icing spoon involved.”


“That is only after we ice the cake!”


Erik sighed heavily and pushed off the table to pace about the room. “If you hadn’t burnt the first one the blasted thing would already be done.”


She wrinkled her nose at him and placed the pan into the oven. “Well excuse me. I suppose you can add baking to the list of things I don’t do well. Seeing as you are now keeping track.”


“Had I known you were going to get hysterical I never would have asked that question in the first place.”


When Brielle turned her head towards him, she caught sight of his hand reaching into the icing once again. Outraged, she snapped upright and marched across the room, snatching the bowl from the table. “What is wrong with you! You are worse than Aria is!” she exclaimed, trying to sound annoyed but laughing instead.


“I suppose I should be insulted, however, your daughter is an exceptional child. Therefore, I choose to take that as a compliment.” His sinful mouth curved upward ever so slightly as he crossed his arms over his chest.


He was doing that more often now - teasing her and then smirking about it. She didn’t know whether she should be happy about that or not. The development showed he was more comfortable now, a miracle in and of itself. But the man had a biting wit and sharp tongue in his kindest moments; his retorts left Brielle’s in the dust on most occasions. It was hard to argue with a man who had an answer for everything.


“Do as you please then,” she huffed, shaking her head and setting the icing bowl far from his reach. With a frown, she noticed the signs of the many finger trails through the chocolate. If she had let him, Brielle was certain he would have eaten half the frosting. Apparently Erik had a sweet tooth.


“Actually, I have been meaning to ask you a question,” he said, ignoring the annoyance in her voice.


“Oh what is it?” Brielle sighed as she fanned herself with a yellow potholder, suddenly feeling oddly warm under his gaze.


“Her name, Aria that is, where does it come from? It is rather unusual. It isn’t Irish is it?”


Brielle felt the irritated tension ease from her expression. “Heavens no, Aria isn’t an Irish name. Actually her full name is Arianna but I only added the ending to make it more acceptable. We only call her that when she is in trouble.”      

  
“So why did you wish to name her something so untraditional then?”


A smile lit her features, the wary distance in her gray eyes fading. She forgot, for the moment, to be on guard. “The day she was born there was a terrible storm raging outside. I remember the lighting tore the sky to pieces and the thunder all but shook the house apart. It was a hard, bleak day but the moment I first held her in my arms all of that disappeared. The thunder, the rain, the anger at being alone all faded and I heard music in the air.” She closed her eyes, gently tilting her head to the side as if listening to something.


“I heard music sweeter than all the choruses of heaven joined in harmony. Sometimes when I think about that day, I imagine that is what it must be like for Conner every day - hearing music like that playing through the mind. A silent symphony which plays only for you. I don’t know how musicians can stand it - living with such exquisite intensity burning every note in their brain.” She paused for a moment, wrapping her arms about her waist. “And so I named her Aria. It means melody.”


When Brielle opened her eyes with a contented sigh, she was surprised to see how close Erik was to her. He had stopped pacing about the room and now stood within touching distance from her. An oddly intense expression tightening his features.  


“You are the oddest woman I have ever met,” he murmured, a crease forming between his brows as if she were a puzzle he was trying to figure out, his eyes becoming dark with confusion and some other unnamable emotion. Erik moved ever so slightly toward her and Brielle was suddenly terrified he would reach out and touch her. If he touched her now, she didn’t know what she would do. And yet, she was frozen where she stood.   


As his eyes burned into hers, images began to flicker to life within her head. In her mind she could clearly see herself wrapped in his arms, her mouth crushed against his. The feel of his lips brushing along the corner of her mouth, the tickle of his breath upon her cheek were more vivid for a moment than the coolness of the kitchen counter under her hands or the smell of baking in the air.


Clearing her throat, Brielle moved to step away from him, frightened by what his close proximity was doing to her. At her movement the fantasy faded from her mind, leaving her weak in the knees. Slowly she sank into a chair, terrified by the explicit thoughts which had so suddenly overpowered her senses. If he knew what I was thinking just a moment ago…


The man was dangerous. More dangerous than if he had suddenly picked up a knife and rammed it into her chest. It was her heart he was now threatening, she was sure of that now. Why else would she be thinking such scandalous things? Damn it Brielle, you promised yourself to never care for another man. You promised!!


“My but you will spoil me with such lovely speeches,” she suddenly said, breaking the tense silence. Her sarcasm had the effect she wanted. Erik turned his head away from her, breaking the chains his eyes had been wrapping about her. She was shocked to see a flicker of embarrassment cross his features before disappearing. What had he to be embarrassed about? It was she who had suddenly become the lecher.  


Relieved to be free from his gaze, Brielle let out a sigh and closed her eyes. With one hand she rubbed at her right temple, trying to ease the twinge of pressure growing there. All the excitement was giving her a headache.


“Thank you for staying with me while I made the cake. It will be done soon, so if you would like to go do something else now I wouldn’t mind.”


He was quiet for a moment in thought before he silently pulled out a chair and sat down. “At the moment I don’t believe there are any other pressing issues I must attend to. I might as well stay here.”


Brielle couldn’t help but smile at that. He was the only person she knew who could make saying, ‘I would rather stay here,’ sound so arrogant.




     
Later that evening, Brielle stood alone in the kitchen putting the final touches upon the cake. In the end it had come out slightly lopsided, but she was able to hide its asymmetrical shape with the icing. All in all she considered herself lucky that it had only taken two attempts to bake the wretched thing.


She stepped back from the table to survey the colored lettering she had just finished with a smile. At least her handwriting had always been lovely. It almost made up for the strange shape of the cake itself. Brielle looked up from her work when the sound of a piano duet suddenly broke into her thoughts.


No doubt it was Aria and Erik at it again. He had been trying to teach the child how to read sheet music for the two hours since Brielle had finally shooed him out of the kitchen. The attempt was not going well. Naturally talented though Aria was, she had no interest in the pages of music lying about the house. Even from this end of the house, Brielle could hear the child’s whining in the pauses of the music.


Grinning, Brielle stuck four small white candles into the cake while imagining the expression which must be on Erik’s face. He was always so good with the child, yet Brielle knew how it must cost him at times. She had never known a man with more of a temper, but never had she heard him raise his voice to her daughter. The gentleness he hid within him always caught her off guard.


Lighting the candles, Brielle turned and shouted down the hallway. “Everyone move into the dining room! It is time for the cake.” At her words the piano music crashed to a halt; the following silence was punctured by the sound of tiny footsteps racing down the hallway. Picking up the cake, Brielle turned and walked carefully down towards the front of the house.


Brielle edged the dining room door open with her foot and stepped inside. Aria sat squirming at the head of the table, her gray eyes dancing with childish delight. Erik stood with his arms crossed near the window; his eyes were attentive despite his aloof stance. By his stiff posture Brielle could tell he was uncertain of what came next. He really hasn’t had a birthday party has he? How terrible. What sort of household doesn’t celebrate birthdays?


As she stood there smiling at her daughter, Brielle found herself growing suddenly furious on Erik’s behalf. The thought of a child growing up without the simple pleasures she had always taken for granted was enraging.


Brutally, Brielle shoved the anger aside and stepped toward the table. Purposely broadening her smile, she paused before setting the cake unto the table. “Do you plan on eating standing up Erik? Please have a seat.”


As if he had been waiting for some instruction, Erik quickly pulled out a chair and sat down on Aria’s right. Letting out a calming breath, Brielle released her anger and set the cake before her daughter. She raised a hand and brushed it over Aria’s raven hair before leaning forward and kissing the top of her head.


“Happy Birthday, my love. May your next year be even better than the last.”


Brielle raised her eyes with a start at the sharp intake of breath which suddenly issued from Erik. His eyes were now riveted upon the cake’s surface - more specifically, the writing upon it.


“Happy Birthday Aria and Erik,” it read.


Brielle had debated her last minute decision to include the second name in the icing, but the impulse to include him somehow in the celebration had overpowered her better judgment. Somehow she had just felt it was the right thing to do. However, now she wasn’t so sure it had been a good idea. The expression on his face had suddenly become unreadable. At that moment she felt very juvenile.


“Please don’t misunderstand,” she began uncertainly. “It is just that I didn’t think anyone should go through life without ever having a birthday cake. It is silly I suppose.”


At her words he glanced up at her, the candlelight reflecting in the liquid blue of his eyes. Reflecting in the shocked tears gathering there. “No,” he rasped before clearing his throat. “It isn’t silly at all.”


Aria, sensing the distress in her teacher, calmed instantly and reached across the table to pat Erik’s hand upon the table. He glanced at the child, then back up at Brielle, blinking rapidly but remaining silent. The urge to join her daughter in comforting Erik bubbled up within Brielle as she stood across the table from them. Her hands slowly fisted in her skirts as she remained standing where she was. She couldn’t risk getting any closer to him, couldn’t risk the intimacy of touching him, even if only comfort was on her mind.


Worrying her bottom lip between her teeth, Brielle watched quietly as Erik composed himself. She hadn’t had any idea he would be affected this much from just a birthday cake. Slowly a picture of what his life must have been like was taking shape for her. And the more she learned about him, the angrier she became at the people who should have cared for him. No one should be treated as he must have been treated.


“Aria, go ahead and blow those candles out before they melt all the way into the icing,” Brielle said quietly, wishing to draw the attention away from Erik. She knew he would be terribly embarrassed with his display if they continued to stand about and stare.


Distracted, for the moment, Aria turned her eyes away from her teacher and turned to the task at hand. She puffed up her cherub cheeks and blew all four of the candles out in one breath. Grinning at her accomplishment, Aria giggled behind her hands.


“Cake!!?” the child cried out.


“Yes of course. We all get cake.” Brielle said with a grin, glad to see the flicker of a smile tug at the corners of Erik’s mouth. “But shouldn’t we open the presents first?”


Aria happily clapped her hands in agreement. “Presents!”


Brielle turned then and retrieved a wrapped package from atop a nearby dresser. “Now I have to warn you. You may be a little disappointed this year.”


At her words, Aria paused before ripping off the wrapping, a pout pushing out her bottom lip. Slowly, the child pulled off the brown paper and with a sigh opened the box. Brielle smiled as shocked delight suddenly overpowered the disappointment on her daughter’s face. With a gasp, the child drew out a rosy cheeked china doll from the box before her. Looking to her mother, Aria hugged the delicate doll to her chest.


“You may be a little disappointed because this wasn’t the one you wanted,” Brielle said, reaching out to brush her hand over her daughter’s head. “Someone had already bought it by the time I arrived at the store. Are you terribly disappointed?”


Aria shook her head, grinning as she hugged the doll even harder. “Not that disappointed I see,” Brielle said, matching her daughter grin for grin. Turning her attention to Erik, Brielle’s smile fell slightly. “I didn’t think far enough ahead to get you anything, Erik.”


He immediately waved away her worry. “You have already done more than enough.”


“What is a birthday without presents though?” she retorted with a frown before an idea suddenly lit up her face. Reaching back to the nape of her neck, Brielle unhooked the silver clasp there. She pulled the two ends on the chain around to the front, drawing a small silver medallion from under the lace of her bodice. Smiling once again, Brielle rounded the table to stand next to where Erik was sitting. She took hold of his hand and placed the medallion in the bowl of his open palm.


“I can’t accept this!” he exclaimed, trying to hand the necklace back to her. “Do you wish me to wear a woman’s jewelry?”


“Don’t be absurd. This is not a woman’s jewelry. My brother has one just like it. It is a Saint Jude medal.” At his blank stare she rolled her eyes. “Saint Jude is the patron saint of lost causes.” A devilish grin lit her face at those words. “Perhaps he can do you some good.”


He smiled at the joke and closed his fingers about the silver, his eyes continuing to search hers. “I don’t believe in such things. God, saints, they are all…”


Brielle interrupted his train of thought by wrapping her hands about his closed fist. “You don’t have to. Faith comes in all forms whether it be in a God or a lucky charm. If nothing else may Saint Jude be your lucky charm.” As his brow drew down into a frown she released his hand, once again feeling childish under his somber gaze. Looking at her daughter, who was still gripping her new doll happily, Brielle suddenly changed the subject. “I believe it is time for cake.”        


Picking up the knife, Brielle pulled the cake to her and began to cut thick slices. Carefully she slid three pieces from the whole and laid them out on plates. She quickly grabbed the forks upon the table and passed them out, trying not to lick her fingers while handling the silverware.


Finally pulling out a chair, Brielle sat down across the table from Erik. She picked up her fork and took a bite, no longer sure what to say to fill the silence. Usually Aria would fill up the quiet with her gift for gab, but tonight the little girl was strangely quiet. She was so quiet, in fact, that after awhile Brielle became concerned.


“Aria, are you feeling alright?” The little girl smiled and nodded her head, stuffing another bite of cake into her mouth.  

   
“Well, as long as you are sure you are alright,” Brielle conceded, tapping her fork against the plate.


Brielle watched as Aria glanced at Erik, the pair sharing a secret look before going back to their cake. The clinking of fork against china grew louder as she tried to figure out what she was missing.


“Alright you two, tell me what is going on.”


“Nothing is going on. But I do believe your daughter wishes to tell you something,” Erik replied, pointedly keeping his eyes upon his plate.  

       
Thoroughly confused, Brielle glanced towards Aria. “What is it, love?”


“Thank you for making m-m…” when her voice locked up Aria stopped speaking. Instead of clamping her lips closed as she normally did, she let out a deep sigh and began to hum quietly, her eyes flickering to Erik for a moment.


Taking another breath, Aria opened her mouth once again. “Thank you for making me my birthday cake Momma. I like it a lot.”


The sound of her daughter speaking clearly and without a stutter caught Brielle completely by surprise. Her fork clattered onto the table, her hand suddenly unable to form a grip. It took a moment for the impact of those two simple sentences to sink in. A smile bloomed across her features as she jumped to her feet.


“Oh say it again, love!” she cried out, her hands gently cupping her daughter’s face. “Say Momma again.”


“Momma!” the little girl supplied, standing upon her chair to wrap her chubby arms about Brielle’s neck.


Closing her eyes against the happy tears burning there, Brielle leaned her cheek against the child’s raven head. “Never was there a sweeter word said in all the world.”


She raised her face then to look at the man responsible for the small miracle of that one word. Erik sat utterly still as her eyes found his. A bottomless expression of longing flickered like candlelight behind his eyes. And without thinking Brielle reached out to him then, her hand coming to rest upon his.


“Thank you.”    


He looked away then, shrugging as if to discount her gratitude. Erik’s hand slowly became a fist under her palm. Her expression sobering, Brielle dug her nails into the back of his fist. “Thank you.”


“There is no need to…”


She threw her arms about his shoulders, cutting his words off. Without thought Brielle clung to him, that one clearly spoken word ringing in her mind, ignoring the stiffening of his body at her touch. All the years of feeling unable to help her child, all the maddening diagnoses and advice came rushing to the surface. She felt herself sink to the floor to kneel beside him.


“Thank you, Thank you, Thank you…” Brielle mumbled against his chest. Suddenly she found herself unable to release him. Her steely courage had deserted her, leaving her with nothing of the iron-willed woman she had become. She was nothing more than the tired and lonely girl that had been hidden away for so many years.


Distantly, Brielle felt her daughter’s arm wrap about her waist. Somehow Aria’s presence only served to heighten the perfection of the moment. She clenched her eyes shut and breathed in a sigh. He smells sweet…like sandalwood. I could stay like this forev…


The jarring sound of a fist knocking against the front door jerked Brielle roughly from her musings. Her head snapped up, her eyes wide and confused. A moment passed as her brain switched gears. As the pressure of Erik’s chest against her body began to register, a blush infused her face. With a gasp Brielle released him, a look of horrified embarrassment clouding her features.


The knocking sounded again and Brielle stumbled to her feet, trying to straighten her hair and clothing. Unable to meet Erik’s eyes, she turned her back to him. “That must be Conner. He said he would try and make it home tonight.”


“Brielle…” Erik sighed, his voice deep, almost desperate.


With a forced smile, Brielle backed away from him towards the hallway. “I shouldn’t leave him out in the cold. I will be right back.” And with that she fled the room, hardly knowing what to think or feel anymore. A painful happiness was beginning to warm her heart and it was terrifying.


She strode quickly down the hallway, her hands pressed against the butterflies dancing in her belly. Suddenly she needed to feel the cold winter air upon her face. Throwing the lock roughly, Brielle jerked open the front door.


The smile of greeting on her face instantly slipped off her face at the sight of the tall black haired man at her door. The happy and nervous butterflies in her stomach all died at that moment, turning leaden within her. She tried smiling once again but couldn’t seem to make it.


“Hello Andrew.”