Running Late
#1 of RunningLate
Arianne was late. Not only that but she was worried, too; this wasn't just any kind of late. This was a very specific, significant late that could spell big trouble for her if it kept on getting later.
The ironic thing was that it had all started because she was early. Mary's parties had always been known for their certain rowdy quality, and even arriving an hour before the official starting time (she'd been in the area and couldn't see why not) there were already drinks merrily flowing between the household members: Mary herself, her room mates Catherine and Darren and Mary's husky hunk of a boyfriend, Gray. He was tall, dark, muscular, had the voice of a prowling jaguar, the scent of a Bengal tiger and could make girls weak at the knees from a casual glance. It was widely suspected that Mary's frequent lack of inhibitions, restraint and often clothes while attending parties had grabbed his attention in the same way he'd grabbed her arm to haul her upstairs towards the bedroom half an hour later. In any case, if Gray's snide references to "ravaging the fox" were anything to go by, Arianne doubted that Mary was all too dissatisfied by the situation.
As for her herself, Arianne had Eric, who was an altogether different type. He was the sweetest fox she could have wished to find: softly spoken, tactful, genuinely caring and brilliantly cuddlable. He'd drop everything for her if she ever needed him, always be there to console her when she was sad or listen when she was angry, or spend the morning warm and sleepily wound together under a duvet on the sofa. Arianne wasn't the excitable type like Mary, she knew that. She'd always dreamed of a man to cherish and take care of her, someone she could love, and it looked as though Eric was that someone. She didn't crave more and more excitement and euphoria like Mary did. She preferred the slower lane.
Apart from on that night. Arianne didn't know if it was the booze or the summer heat, or all the new, exotic boys who kept on arriving as the evening got into full swing - OK, maybe it was the booze; two bottles of wine don't do anyone any good - but she could remember feeling a certain amount freer, less reluctant and more willing to embrace life. Unfortunately - probably the booze again - that was more or less all she could remember feeling. There was a substantial amount of time that seemed as though she was only able to look at it from behind a heavily frosted window: someone who might have been a leopard refilling her glass; one of the girls who had a dress sense annoyingly similar to her own had left different items of clothing in different places all over the living room; Mary had chosen to find herself a plant pot rather than attempt the stairs to the bathroom; someone had made mention of "making the wolf howl," which had been followed by some giggling; there had been a shadowy period Arianne had rather enjoyed, which for some reason reminded her of a clear, moonlit night; someone had cheered and shouted "You weren't wrong there!"; then Mary had thrown up and collapsed in the back garden, a point which most, including a more than tipsy Arianne, had taken as their cue to leave.
Piecing it all together, Arianne had little doubt as to what had ended up happening. She hadn't told Eric - there was no need: it was just a bit of meaningless, drunken fun, after all - but she couldn't for the life of her remember who it had been with. It could have been anyone, the way things had gone that night. It didn't matter, really, in the end; what Eric didn't know couldn't hurt him. As long as it stayed that way.
But now there was a problem. Arianne's body was on the whole pretty regular when it came to monthly affairs such as this, but this time around it hadn't been. The usual Tuesday was three days ago now, but nothing had occured then and there didn't seem to have been any changes since. Nagging alarm bells were beginning to ring.
Arianne's train pulled up punctually at her station and she pushed the thought from her mind, for the moment at least. There was still time. In any case, she needed to get home to Eric, who had passed up the opportunity to go to work that morning due to a bad fever he'd contracted overnight which had left him unable to get out of bed. Arianne had had to leave him with a Lemsip, a hot chocolate and a kiss, blankets up to his neck, to get through the day with, and she was anxious to get back home after work.
The living room curtains lay drawn as Arianne hurried up the small garden path. Eric was probably holed up on the sofa, poor thing. The first thing she'd do would be to make him a nice hot cup of tea and maybe donate him some warm cuddles of her own.
Then, just as she was about to insert her key into the door, it opened to reveal Eric himself, dressed in a shirt and tie and holding two glasses of sparkling champagne in his hands.
"Evening, gorgeous," he grinned mischievously.
Arianne blinked. "Wha- Eric, I thought you were ill - what's going on?"
She glanced past him down the hall into the dining room, where the candlelit table was set for two. Slow saxophone music was issuing gently from somewhere inside. "Did - did you - "
"You didn't really think I'd forget our two-year anniversary, did you babe?"
"Oh Eric, you haven't!" Arianne began to break into dizzy giggles and she flung her arms around his neck. "Two-year - I can't believe it!"
"You'd better. Two fantastic years of me and you, baby. Come on inside."
But what about last week? a nagging voice in Arianne's brain reminded her. She ignored it, hiding her face to close the door, and had rearranged a natural-looking smile once again by the time she turned around.
"Eric, you really shouldn't have done this!"
Eric put one soft, brown arm around Arianne's shoulders and kissed her on the cheek. "Yes I should. Nothing's too good for you, Ari sweetheart." He motioned towards the kitchen. "Come on. Dinner should be just about ready."
Arianne followed him down the hallway. She should have been feeling fantastically happy about the prospect of such an evening, without a care in the world, but something about this whole arrangement didn't feel right. Not that Eric had ulterior motives about the evening; last Wednesday's episode was just making her feel a little on-edge. To see that Eric had gone to all this trouble, for her, had caused a fleeting twinge of guilt to dash through her stomach, as if what she was fearing were poisonous. Two years together, with a man who would take a full day off work just to surprise her with a romantic dinner in the evening, and she couldn't even resist temptation at one party? Could she really justify that? And what if it did turn out -?
Arianne stepped into the dining room and gasped. The table was made out with a deep blue velvet tablecloth, a vase of roses and four flickering candles, and behind it on a small stool sat a smartly dressed leopard in a matching black suit and bowler hat, whose saxophone appeared to be the source of the sensuous music that had been drifting ever since Arianne had entered the house.
"This - this is beautiful!"
Two plates floated their way in from the kitchen, closely followed by Eric. "And for dinner: roast duck with sweet and sour sauce and stir-fried vegetables. Come on, sit down."
"Wow, Eric! You - you've really outdone yourself."
Arianne felt slightly breathless, although it wasn't entirely from wonder. The nagging worry about the party was knawing uncomfortably at her lower insides, making her feel an unnatural lack of hunger towards what would normally be a delicious treat. As the two of them sat down to eat, she stayed quiet. On any other day this would have been absolutely wonderful, but something wasn't right. This was meant to be a celebration of her and Eric, as a couple, but it just didn't feel like it, to her. Arianne's moment of weakness was weighing on her mind like a stone, making the delicate, tender meat taste of cardboard. As Eric cleared his plate further she merely pushed the food around, answering his attempts at making conversation with a few short, indifferent words. Each mouthful she swallowed only served to remind her of what else could be down there inside her. What on Earth would she do if it was really true? She didn't want children, and she certainly didn't want anyone other than Eric to be involved. How would he react? Would he leave her? Arianne had never seen Eric properly angry before, but there was always a first time. The real fear she had was that Eric would never be able to trust her again, and Arianne wouldn't blame him: he'd never given her any reason to want to hurt or betray him; quite the opposite, in fact, as this evening had certainly proved. It wasn't fair to him, at all, but she couldn't do anything about it.
And if it were true...the thought was terrifying. Arianne felt her clammy hands struggling to control her knife and fork, a chill creeping up her spine. There was nothing else for it. She had to tell him. She took a painful, shuddering breath.
"Are you OK, Ari? You've hardly touched your food."
Eric had his head propped up in his hands, gazing inquiringly into her eyes. Arianne gritted her teeth, turning to stare at the tablecloth, and paused.
"I- it's just been a heavy day. Don't worry."
"I might be able to cheer you up. You see, I've got something to tell you."
He echoed the words in her own brain. Arianne could feel her eyes beginning to burn, the roast duck in her stomach turning sour. She felt sick.
"I asked you something on this day two years ago, and it was the best decision of my life. Since we've been together I've grown to love you more and more every single day. You are everything to me, Ari, and you always will be, no matter what."
Arianne wasn't sure how long she could keep herself from tearing up. These kind words shouldn't be directed at her, not from him. She didn't deserve them. She couldn't take them.
"That's why I need to answer this for me:"
Arianne gasped. Eric had got up from his chair and lowered himself down on one knee in front of her. A sparkling ring sat in the small blue box in his hand. This was too much.
"Arianne Sherton: would you do me the honour of marrying me?"
Arianne burst into tears.
"No! I - I can't d-do it!"
A dead silence hung in the air. Even the sahophone-playing leopard paused for a few moments, stunned.
Eric's smile began to slide. "But...why?"
"B-because you don't d-deserve me!" Arianne hid her face in her hands, unable to control her sobbing. The saxophone player had evidently thought it politer not to continue with his music.
"Ari, what?" Eric stood up and placed his arm gently around her shoulder. "What are you talking about? I don't want anyone else, I want you."
"No, you d-don't!" He didn't know. After what she'd done, she didn't deserve him. "Something's happened, s-something I shouldn't have let h-happen! It's n-not fair on you, I should have been m-more careful!"
"Ari, I don't care what it is, there's no need to worry." Eric had genuine concern in his voice and it was making her feel even worse. "I'm here for you. What is it? What's wrong?"
Eric was in front of her, pulling her tear-stained face up from her hands. Arianne gave a hiccough, somewhere between a sob and a squeak, and looked into his soft, brown eyes.
"Eric, I... I think I might be pregnant. And I don't think it's yours."