TITLE: "Christmas Dreams" (Ch. 4)
AUTHOR: Dream Catcher
DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own Sailor Moon
A.N.: Well, it's finally here. It took a while to write, but chapter four is finished. I want to thank all the patient readers and my friend Anduril, who is also a writer at fanfiction.net. I had some time to finish this today because of a snow day, so thank you bad weather. Well, here's chapter four.
Chapter Four
As Darien approached the Mathis home, a since of dread and foreboding filled him. He began to sincerely wonder if the call he had made to the Mathis home earlier that day, confirming his invitation, had been a wise decision or not. After all, they were strangers. But then he remembered the bags he carried.
The house seemed too welcoming and friendly for his tastes; considering, he was accustomed to Christmases where the only decorations adorning the outside of the home was the traditional wreath on the door.
But, the Mathis home was the complete opposite of what his used to be. Colored lights decorated every window and door and some were even wound around the railings of the porch. A realistic looking Santa was sitting on the porch swing, his cotton stuffed belly protruding out in front of him and his plastic face painted a merry red. Artificial snowmen sat alongside a family of real snowmen in the front yard.
Darien tried to balance himself as he walked up the ice-covered steps leading onto the porch, which was not an easy task considering he held in one hand the bags Serena had left at the service station, and in the other, he held a pot of red poinsettias for Serena's mother.
He was able to make it up the steps after a few slips and almost falls without losing any of the possessions in his arms, and as he approached the door, he reached out one bag filled hand, hoping one of his knuckles could ring the doorbell. But he stopped his arm mid-reach.
"What am I doing here?" he asked himself out loud. It was completely out of character for him to accept the invitation Ilene had giving him. But how could anyone turn down Ilene's pleading eyes? They were too friendly- too motherly.
Was that it? Was that why he was here? Was he really here because he was substituting this family for his own crappy one?
He turned to look at the Santa sitting in the swing, as if expecting him to answer his question. But Darien was surprised to see one of the Santa's eyes wink at him, one rosy cheek rising to meet the eye.
Had he just seen what he thought he had seen? There was no possible way the Santa could have winked at him. Was there?
Darien turned to look at the door when he heard it open, and Ilene's smiling face greeted him. Her long hair was pulled back away from her face, and she was busy wiping her hands off on her apron as she opened the screen door with her shoulder.
"Hello, Darien. I thought I heard something out here," Ilene said, reaching out to give Darien a friendly hug that was awkward not only because it was openly friendly but also considering all the processions Darien held.
"I." Darien trailed off turning to look once again at the Santa, who was back to smiling.
"You like it?" Ilene asked, referring to the Santa, but she didn't allow Darien to answer. "My husband found him and brought him home last January after he saw someone trying to throw him away. He was once used a decoration at the mall, but I guess they grew tired of him." She paused, turning her focus away from the Santa and instead at Darien while rubbing her hands over her bare arms. "Well, come on in. It's cold out here."
Darien didn't have time accept her invitation because Ilene was already inside, waiting for him to come in. He had no choice but to follow her into the warm foyer where the fresh scent of potpourri filled his senses.
He wasn't used to the open friendliness that everyone in the Mathis family seemed to possess. He had always been around the uppity socialites, never the working class. The friendly hugs like the one Ilene had given him, their down-to-earth appearances, and the simple-ness of their lives were all new to him. He was used to the stiff handshakes, fancy crystal, and fake smiles.
As a child he had always wondered why his Christmases never seemed like the ones in books. He had never been brought up to believe in Santa Clause or his eight tiny reindeer.
"Father," a excited six year old Darien approached his father, "Today some kids were talking about this man named Santa who brought presents to kids all over the world. He did it in only one night! He wears red and has a long white beard." Darien said while lowering his hand to his knees to show how long the beard was supposed to be.
Richard stared at the young boy in front of him, completely disappointed in his son. "Son," he said, his voice no where near affectionate, "there is no such person as Santa Clause. He is just some made-up person that little kids like to believe in. You're not a little kid, are you, Son?" When Darien shook his head no, Richard said, "Good. Now go find your mother. I need to finish these reports."
Darien left, and Richard shook his head thinking of how gullible his son is. Must get it from his stupid mother, he thought.
"Darien?" Ilene asked, trying to get his attention. He had seemed to go into his own world for a moment after he had walked inside.
"Huh? Oh, sorry." He paused for lack of better words and in slight embarrassment. "Where do I put this?" he asked shrugging off his winter coat that had become too warm once he had stepped into the Mathis's foyer. He shivered slightly at the change in temperature.
"Oh just put it on the coat rack," she smiled.
Darien did as he was told and placed his coat neatly on the coat rack after sitting the bags beside the door. Then, he remembered to other item he had trudged up the slippery steps. "Uh, this is for you," he said, holding out the pot of poinsettias for Ilene to have.
"How sweet. Thank you." She paused to set the flowers on a nearby table. "Well, I need to finish dinner. My husband is in the living room watching the game. If you'd like, you can join him."
Darien thought back to the night before and remembered the non-too- trilled look he had seen on Mr. Mathis's face when Ilene had invited him to dinner. "Would it be alright if I helped you with dinner?"
"Nonsense! You're the guest, and are to be treated as-"
"Sammy!" yelled a female voice coming from upstairs. "Give that back! Sammy, you get back here this instant! I mean it!"
Darien looked up the stairs and watched as a small boy came running down the stairs at full speed, his eyes wide in fear even though he was smiling. When he reached the bottom, he ran for his mother.
"Sammy!" yelled the female again while rushing down the stairs. When she reached the bottom, she pointed an accusing finger at Sammy as he peeked out from behind his mother's legs. "That little, little, maggot took my brush, and he won't give it back!" Serena exasperatedly said, completely oblivious to their guest.
Serena needed to get the brush back so she could look presentable when Darien came. She was not about to let her shopping spree with her friends be in vain. Something had to come out of the four hours of shopping, sore feet, and Mina's constant chattering. She was going to impress Darien, if not for herself, then for her friends, who were sure to grill her over the night's events.
She continued to glare at her brother, willing him to give her the brush. How was it, that I was given such an intolerable brother? she wondered. Was she cursed? Maybe.
"Serena," Ilene said trying to get her daughter's attention. When her daughter ignored her, she tried again, this time louder, "Serena."
Serena turned her eyes to look at her mother, but her face and finger remained pointed at her little brother. "Yeah?" Serena asked, wondering what the cause of her mother's knowing smile was.
"We have a guest."
Serena blinked. A guest? It couldn't be Darien.could it? He has another five more minutes until he is supposed to arrive. But, then Serena averaged in her head the time it took to chase her brother around the house, and came up with a startling discovery.
Slowly she turned her face, and her eyes- if possible- grew wider.
Ilene had to bite her tongue to keep the laugh bubbling in side of her from escaping. Her daughter's bewildered face was almost too much to handle. She snuck a glance at Darien, and saw that he too was fighting back a laugh.
Darien was indeed fighting back a laugh, but his attention was not focused on Serena's predicament. It was focused on her appearance. Her eyes that reminded him of sparkling blue pools were wide. Her cheeks crimson, as if a rose had been brushed across their soft surface and left its color behind. Her long blond tresses hung loosely down her back, while her long bangs brushed across her ivory forehead. She certainly had the deer-caught- in-headlights look perfected.
Although she looked ridiculous, she still gave off the impression of innocence and, dare he say it, beauty. Gone was the calm and colleted girl from the night before. Instead, in front of him stood a flustered young woman dressed in a red jumper. It was hard for him to decide which he liked better: calm and collect, or innocent. In the end, he gave up deciding.
Serena stared at Darien, wishing it was all a dream, but when she saw the smirk on Darien's face, she realized no dream could be this cruel.
She started to run over the possible solutions to her problem. She could always laugh like a ditz, and brush it off. She could acknowledge his presence and go back to scolding her brother. Then, there was always the possibility of running up to her room and hiding there the rest of the night.
She considered the last option but then determined that none of her choices would work.
Instead, she raised her shoulders and stood to her full height of 5' 4" and dropped her accusing finger that had been pointing at her brother. "Hello, Darien."
"Hello, Serena." He then turned to Ilene, "Thank you for inviting me to dinner."
"Think nothing of it, Darien. Now, you just go ahead into the living room and watch the game with Ken."
"Are you sure you wouldn't like me to help you?" He asked again.
"I'm positive." Then turning to her daughter, "You go on upstairs and fix your hair." Serena opened her mouth to speak, but Ilene cut her off, "If you need a brush that bad, borrow mine."
"Don't worry, Mom. As soon as I get mine back from." She trailed off as she turn to the spot in which Sammy had been standing moments before. Instead of Sammy, there was a bare spot of hardwood floor.
She balked. Where had the brat gone?
She had just lost her favorite brush, and there was no telling whether or not if she'd get back. With her shoulder's slumped, she began to ascend the stairs, while calling a defeated "I'll bring your brush back" to her mother.
Both Ilene and Darien watched as she climbed the stairs. Ilene shook her head and headed towards the kitchen, while Darien continued to gaze up the stairs.
When Darien finally realized he was alone in the foyer, he had an inner struggle on where to go. He could go into the kitchen and ask Ilene to let him help, or he could go face Papa Bear. Darien sighed when he realized that if he went to the kitchen he would be forced out anyway.
He approached the living room carefully. He knew how fathers could be towards young men his age when their daughters were involved. Even if a guy- like Darien- wasn't trying to woo a man's daughter, the guy must be cautious anyway. And that's just what he was going to be. Cautious.
Darien suddenly had a flashback of his senior prom.
Darien and Sarah Thomason had been nothing but friends since the eighth grade and since neither of them had a date to the prom, they had decided to go together as friends.
It had been ten minutes since his arrival, and Sarah had yet to come down. During Darien's entire wait, Jack Thomason, Sarah's father, had sat in silence across from him. The wait wouldn't have been so bad had it not been for the knowledge that Jack was acting different around Darien then in their previous meetings. Jack would usually strike up a conversation, but tonight was different.
But the real cause of Darien's distress was the rifle that Jack insisted upon cleaning in front of Darien.
The gun sat in Jack's lap as he stroked it with a cloth like he would a kitten. Darien gulped as he watched Jack's calloused hand move the cloth across the barrel. And if possible, the silence in the room became even more unbearable.
But then the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs reached his ears, and he hastily got up from his seat to meet is date at the bottom of the steps.
Before he could reach the steps, however, he heard Jack say, "I don't want to have this talk again," knowing full and well that he hadn't spoken a word the entire time Darien was there.
Darien watched as Jacks face lit up into a small smile showing he was joking, but the real threat that lie beneath was still apparent.
Yes, Darien thought humouredly, fathers were not a force to reckon with.
He approached the living room slowly, wondering what he would say to Mr. Mathis once there. Maybe they would strike up a conversation about the football game that Ilene had said he was watching or maybe the weather.
No, the weather was a bad idea. He wanted to impress Mr. Mathis, not bore him to death. And what topic was boring and had no creativity in it what so ever? Why, the weather of course.
Why was he so worried about impressing Mr. Mathis in the first place? This was not one of his father's fancy dinners that required him to be the utmost gentleman. No, this was a relaxed dinner at the home of a family that was practically strangers, No big deal.Right?
Maybe he was so worked up over first impressions because he wanted to show these people he wasn't some lowlife and that he really was the hero that depicted him to be. But there was a good chance that he'd never see these people ever again; so, why did he worry about what these people thought about him?
Deep inside, a small part of him knew the answer to that silent question he asked himself. But that small part of him was too small to respond, and the question remained unanswered to Darien.
Darien enter the "lion's den" and saw that the lion himself was intently watching a football game on the television. He sat, leaning forward slightly, in a sofa chair, eyeballs glued to the screen.
Darien approached Ken and stopped to the side of him, careful as to not stand in front of the TV.
"Mr. Mathis, I'm Darien Shields," he said, holding his hand out for Ken to shake.
Ken's eyes strayed from the television to look at Darien, but he still watched the football game from the corner of his eye.
Ken couldn't decide on whether he should be nice to the boy or not. He wanted to assume the role of protective father like he had always done before, but he had done a little thinking since last night and realized that some of the things Ilene had told had been true. Whether he liked or not, the boy had saved his daughter.
He could give the boy some credit on a few other things too. Ken had heard how polite he had been to Ilene when he had come in, and manners were something Ken held in high regard. The boy also knew how to dress, unlike the other boys Ken had seen around town who had their pants hanging down below their butts and their underwear showing.
But the well-mannered boy in front of him could be a fake, and Ken hated a fake.
One particular fake came to Ken's mind: His father, the man who had left his mother when she was eighteen and six months pregnant.
Ken had never met his father, and he was damn glad, especially after he found out the whole story. He could still hear his mother's voice as she told him the story when he was fifteen.
"I was eighteen and lonely," she said, her voice distant as she once again relived that part of her life. "My boyfriend Sam had just broken up with me after he realized I wouldn't give him what he wanted. I was heartbroken and thought it was my fault. To ease the pain, I took a walk, not caring where I went or how I got there.
"Well, when I finally did stop walking, I realized I had ended up outside some rundown bar. I was tempted to go inside, but the thought of a drink was as appealing as people make it out to be. I was about to turn around and walk back home, but the door of the bar opened and through it came your father.
"He saw me, looked me over, and flashed a smile in my direction. When I didn't smile back, he asked if something was wrong. I told him everything was fine.
" 'A pretty thing like you shouldn't be here alone,' he had said. He played my weakness, called me beautiful, smart, and whatever else he could come up with.
"I fell for it, and in my emotional state, I ended up falling into his bed. Six months later I started to show, and every kind word he had called me when we met didn't seem to apply to me anymore. He left me, and I quit college and returned home.
"Don't be like your father, Ken. Find that special someone and treat her right. Have a family full of love and happiness. Get the small white house with a picket fence to raise your nice family in. Just don't be like your father."
Ken hadn't let himself be like his father. He had done like his mother had told him, and ended up with the perfect life, unlike his mother.
She had never gotten married, claiming Ken was the only man she needed in her life, but Ken often wondered if the real reason was because she didn't want to risk history repeating itself.
He wasn't about to let history repeat itself either, and he feared it would be Serena that would make the wrong decisions. Not because he thought she was unintelligent, but because she was too naïve. He had to look after his daughter.
Ken stood and took Darien's offered hand. I was time for the questions.
"How old are you?" Ken asked.
Uh-oh, Darien thought, the Third Degree. "Eighteen."
"Where are you attending college?"
"Syracuse, Sir"
"What's your major?"
"Medicine."
"What are your intentions with my daughter?"
Whoa, Darien hadn't expected that one. Sure he figured Mr. Mathis was thinking the question, but he hadn't thought he would voice it. How was he supposed to answer a question like that when he had no idea what his intentions were himself? Honestly, was the only answer that came to mind.
"To be honest, Sir, I don't know what my intentions are. I do not know your daughter well enough to form any intentions that go farther than friendship."
Ken looked good and hard into Darien's eyes. He's not lying, Ken realized.
Ken didn't know if he should be happy or disappointed that the boy was telling the truth. He could be happy because if Serena was interested in the boy, he was a pretty good catch. But, Ken was slightly disappointed because he now had no reason to be mad at him.
Ken did have one last question to ask Darien, and this question, if answered wrongly, could change Ken's whole opinion of Darien.
"Cowboys or Redskins?" Ken asked, his face completely serious.
Darien blinked. Ken wanted to know what football team he rooted for? Oh dear, if he answered wrong, Darien knew that dinner would not be a good one. He decided that honesty must be the best policy, and he told the truth.
"Cowboys."
Ken stared at Darien, his face a mask. Then, one side of his mouth lifted into a smile and Darien became more relaxed.
"Well, Darien, call me Ken. You want to watch the game? It's either that or trying to talk your way into the kitchen."
Ken sat back down in his sofa chair and resumed watching the game.
Darien, more at ease, took a seat on the couch and took this time to get a better look at Ken.
Ken Mathis looked to be in his late forties, and although he seemed to be thinning a little around top, Darien could tell from Ken's profile that he had been a handsome man in his youth. Darien figured Ken was still considered handsome, but it was a more refined kind of handsome, not boyish. A few laugh lines were carved into his face, but they didn't make him seem older.
Yes, Darien liked Ken, much more than his own father, and for some reason, Darien felt a little saddened at the thought. But, he didn't want to think about the sudden emotion, and he began to focus his attention on the game.
Ken realized that he slightly enjoyed Darien's silent company. With his own son too young to enjoy the game of football, it was nice to be in the company of a younger male who did understand the game for once. He couldn't wait until Sammy was older.
Ken watched Darien out of the corner of is eye. Yeah, the boy couldn't be that bad if he was a Cowboys fan.
There was no way she was going downstairs again.
Serena continued to brush her hair in front of the mirror, the event from downstairs playing over and over in front of her eyes, almost as if the mirror were a television screen. She imagined what she had looked like with hair tousled and her face, makeup free. If it was half as bad as she imagined it, disaster was an understatement.
She sighed and placed her mom's hairbrush the vanity and preceded to fix her hair up into a style that Raye had dubbed the meatball hairstyle. When her hair was finished, she got up from the stool and walked to the window where the sun was already setting.
The setting sun reminded her of a painting she was saw at the local art museum, bright and colorful. It was the perfect backdrop for the bare trees and snow covered ground. The endless array of colors was mesmerizing to watch as the yellow faded into orange, the orange into pink, then to purple, and finally the black of night.
It was sad to see the colors fade away to the dark, but Serena knew that tomorrow would bring another sunset, one more beautiful than today's.
Serena continued to stare at the darkened sky as the first stars began to appear, and she almost forgot about the events from downstairs.
Almost.
"Serena, honey, it's time for dinner!" her mother called.
Damn. Serena had hoped her mother had forgotten about her. Evidently, she hadn't.
"Coming, Mom." Serena called back. Although how soon she would be coming down, she didn't know. A week, maybe?
"Well," Serena told herself, "Running away from your fears will never get rid of them. Eventually they'll catch up with you and bite you in the ass." Although she was trying to be serious and talk herself into going downstairs, she couldn't suppress the image that formed in her mind of Darien chasing her around her house and when he caught her, he.
She shook her head. Those images were not going to motivate her into going downstairs. If those images were motivating her to do anything, it was climbing out her window and sliding down the drainpipe, which, at the moment, seemed like the better alternative.
Serena began to pace back and forth at the foot of her bed.
Risk of embarrassment or drainpipe. Risk of embarrassment or Drainpipe.
"Serena!" her mother called again, this time right outside her bedroom door, causing Serena to jump. "Sweetie, dinner is ready."
Serena sighed. It seemed the decision was already made; she had to go downstairs or else she had to deal with her mother.
She opened her door, and there was her mother, smiling knowingly.
"Problem?" Ilene asked sweetly.
Serena groaned. Her mother just knew her too well. It had to be that relationship of the womb that she once saw on a TV special. It was actually quite interesting to hear the story of a woman who somehow felt that her son was in trouble when she was miles away from him. Serena briefly wondered if her mother had felt anything the night before. Maybe she'd ask later.
"No, Mom. Everything is fine," Serena lied, even though she knew her mother could see right through her lie. But Serena also knew her mother wouldn't comment on it either.
"Well, come on then. You don't want dinner to get cold do you?" Ilene asked, knowing Serena's weakness lay in food.
Serena smiled, knowing what her mother was trying to accomplish. If her mother intended to bribe her with food, who was she to disappoint her? She accompanied her mother down the stairs and into the dinning room where Darien, her father and little brother were already seated. Her father was seated at the head of the table, and surprisingly enough, with Darien to his right. An extra chair had been brought in and placed beside Sammy while the chair that was usually positioned at the other end of the table opposite Ken, had been moved to the other side of Darien. The food was already sitting on the table, teasing them with it's smell.
Serena felt bad for having made everyone wait, and it made her reasons for not coming down seem entirely too selfish. But as she looked at her father and Darien, she noticed that they didn't seem too dejected because of their wait. In fact they looked as if they were content just as they were. As Serena sat down next to Darien, she began to listen to their conversation.
"Can you believe they traded their coach?" Ken asked incredulously.
Darien was shaking his head, a look of disbelieving on his face, "Why in the world would they allow him to leave. Rumor has it that he wasn't being paid enough, but I doubt that. Who wouldn't pay to have him coaching their team?"
Ken was about to respond when Ilene glided through the kitchen door to take her seat beside Sammy. She placed her napkin in her lap and then reached over to put a napkin in Sammy's lap.
"Can we eat now?" Sammy whined.
Serena smiled to herself. Serves him right for taking my brush, she thought while placing her own napkin in her lap.
"Not before we say the blessing," Ilene said. "And because you're so anxious to eat, Sammy, how about you do the honors?"
Sammy sat up straight as a ramrod, proud to have been chosen. He bowed his head and clasped his hands at his chin. His eyes closed causing his long lashes to brush is cheeks that had yet to loose their baby fat. He reminded Serena of a tiny cherub.
Once everyone had followed his example, he started the simple blessing he had been taught by his mother.
"Thank you for the world so sweet," he said in his childishly sweet voice. "Thank you for the food we eat. Thank you for the birds that sing. Thank you, God, for everything. Amen."
A chorus of amen's followed, and then arms began reaching for the nearest dishes.
Serena reached for the mashed potatoes and helped herself to a spoonful. She passed the bowl to Darien, and he gave her the plate with the chicken on it. Their hands lightly brushed during the exchange, and both of them barely noticed the way their stomachs jumped.
Barely.
Serena grabbed the chicken away from Darien as fast as she could without being rude. Her embarrassment from the earlier events was replaced by bewilderment. What had just happened? She glanced at Darien to see if he looked just as confused as she felt, instead of finding him starring at his hand in bafflement, she saw that he had resumed the conversation with her father that he had been partaking in before the blessing.
What just happened was certainly more important than football. But then she wondered: Did he even feel it? She looked at him again, he certainly didn't seem to have felt it.
Serena began to wonder if whatever it was she felt was related to the feeling romance writers are always writing about, the one she always had thought had been something some over imaginative woman had come up with. Or was it? Maybe it was something that happens when you're attracted to a person, and there was no doubt in Serena's mind that she was attracted to Darien. She had been aware of her attraction to Darien since she met him last night, when their eyes met in a clash of bewildered sky versus the endless depths of a churning ocean.
Maybe, Serena thought with a sigh, Darien didn't feel anything because he isn't attracted to me.
But Darien was just as confused as Serena, maybe even more so because of his lack of knowledge in romance novels. Unlike Serena, though, he decided to push that matter to the back of his mind instead of dwelling on it. If he was to dwell on it, he knew he wouldn't be much of a guest because instead of socializing with them, he would retreat to his on little world where he could think everything through logically.
Yes, logically, was the only way to do things if you wanted to do them right. He wasn't spontaneous, and was happy because of it. Orderly was the way he liked things, and any other way, he became panicky.
Some called his fetish a curse, but he called it a gift because he knew that he would succeed in life because of it. He would become the doctor he always wanted to be, even if it as against his father's wishes.
Darien still remembered the day he confessed he was going to be a doctor and not the lawyer his father had wanted him to be. His father's face had turned red, but his hands had remained steady in an amazing restraint, for Darien knew his father had wished to reach out and slap him. It had been the first time he had dared to stand up against his father, and he had won. He had finally become his own man.
"So, Darien, are you going to the parade tomorrow?" Ilene asked after swallowing a bite of mashed potatoes.
Darien turned his gaze to Ilene and smiled lopsidedly, "I haven't really thought about it."
Ilene smiled sadly, but there was a gleam in her eyes. "You should really go. It would should be fun." Then as an after thought, she added, "Serena's going."
Serena's eyes grew, and her cheeks burned as she blushed. She stared unbelieving at her mother, as her body seemed to freeze. Her hand became slack around her fork, and it dropped from her hand to the floor. She didn't even realize it was missing until she heard it clang on the hardwood floor.
Numbly she reached down to grab the fork, her eyes still gawking at her mother. Serena was shaken out of her reverie, however, when her head something very hard.
She groaned and turn her head sideways, and once again she fell captive to Darien's gaze. The pain in her head was forgotten, and so was the fork that still lay on the floor.
But whatever force was holding their eyes together was broken when Ken cleared his throat. Serena blushed and ducked under the table to retrieve the elusive fork. When she brought her head up, fork in hand, she spared a glance at her father but avoided Darien's eyes.
Oddly enough, her father wasn't scowling at Darien as she had been expecting him to be. Instead, he was staring fixatedly at some point on the wall, a look of contemplation etching his features. Weird, she thought, normally Dad would have been glaring daggers at any boy I showed an interest in.
But Serena was knocked out of her thoughts when she heard Darien say, turning to her mother, "You know, Ilene, I think I just might go watch the parade tomorrow after all."
TO BE CONTINUED
A.N.: Hoped you liked this chapter. Please give comments, suggestions, and even flames if necessary. Until next time.
AUTHOR: Dream Catcher
DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own Sailor Moon
A.N.: Well, it's finally here. It took a while to write, but chapter four is finished. I want to thank all the patient readers and my friend Anduril, who is also a writer at fanfiction.net. I had some time to finish this today because of a snow day, so thank you bad weather. Well, here's chapter four.
Chapter Four
As Darien approached the Mathis home, a since of dread and foreboding filled him. He began to sincerely wonder if the call he had made to the Mathis home earlier that day, confirming his invitation, had been a wise decision or not. After all, they were strangers. But then he remembered the bags he carried.
The house seemed too welcoming and friendly for his tastes; considering, he was accustomed to Christmases where the only decorations adorning the outside of the home was the traditional wreath on the door.
But, the Mathis home was the complete opposite of what his used to be. Colored lights decorated every window and door and some were even wound around the railings of the porch. A realistic looking Santa was sitting on the porch swing, his cotton stuffed belly protruding out in front of him and his plastic face painted a merry red. Artificial snowmen sat alongside a family of real snowmen in the front yard.
Darien tried to balance himself as he walked up the ice-covered steps leading onto the porch, which was not an easy task considering he held in one hand the bags Serena had left at the service station, and in the other, he held a pot of red poinsettias for Serena's mother.
He was able to make it up the steps after a few slips and almost falls without losing any of the possessions in his arms, and as he approached the door, he reached out one bag filled hand, hoping one of his knuckles could ring the doorbell. But he stopped his arm mid-reach.
"What am I doing here?" he asked himself out loud. It was completely out of character for him to accept the invitation Ilene had giving him. But how could anyone turn down Ilene's pleading eyes? They were too friendly- too motherly.
Was that it? Was that why he was here? Was he really here because he was substituting this family for his own crappy one?
He turned to look at the Santa sitting in the swing, as if expecting him to answer his question. But Darien was surprised to see one of the Santa's eyes wink at him, one rosy cheek rising to meet the eye.
Had he just seen what he thought he had seen? There was no possible way the Santa could have winked at him. Was there?
Darien turned to look at the door when he heard it open, and Ilene's smiling face greeted him. Her long hair was pulled back away from her face, and she was busy wiping her hands off on her apron as she opened the screen door with her shoulder.
"Hello, Darien. I thought I heard something out here," Ilene said, reaching out to give Darien a friendly hug that was awkward not only because it was openly friendly but also considering all the processions Darien held.
"I." Darien trailed off turning to look once again at the Santa, who was back to smiling.
"You like it?" Ilene asked, referring to the Santa, but she didn't allow Darien to answer. "My husband found him and brought him home last January after he saw someone trying to throw him away. He was once used a decoration at the mall, but I guess they grew tired of him." She paused, turning her focus away from the Santa and instead at Darien while rubbing her hands over her bare arms. "Well, come on in. It's cold out here."
Darien didn't have time accept her invitation because Ilene was already inside, waiting for him to come in. He had no choice but to follow her into the warm foyer where the fresh scent of potpourri filled his senses.
He wasn't used to the open friendliness that everyone in the Mathis family seemed to possess. He had always been around the uppity socialites, never the working class. The friendly hugs like the one Ilene had given him, their down-to-earth appearances, and the simple-ness of their lives were all new to him. He was used to the stiff handshakes, fancy crystal, and fake smiles.
As a child he had always wondered why his Christmases never seemed like the ones in books. He had never been brought up to believe in Santa Clause or his eight tiny reindeer.
"Father," a excited six year old Darien approached his father, "Today some kids were talking about this man named Santa who brought presents to kids all over the world. He did it in only one night! He wears red and has a long white beard." Darien said while lowering his hand to his knees to show how long the beard was supposed to be.
Richard stared at the young boy in front of him, completely disappointed in his son. "Son," he said, his voice no where near affectionate, "there is no such person as Santa Clause. He is just some made-up person that little kids like to believe in. You're not a little kid, are you, Son?" When Darien shook his head no, Richard said, "Good. Now go find your mother. I need to finish these reports."
Darien left, and Richard shook his head thinking of how gullible his son is. Must get it from his stupid mother, he thought.
"Darien?" Ilene asked, trying to get his attention. He had seemed to go into his own world for a moment after he had walked inside.
"Huh? Oh, sorry." He paused for lack of better words and in slight embarrassment. "Where do I put this?" he asked shrugging off his winter coat that had become too warm once he had stepped into the Mathis's foyer. He shivered slightly at the change in temperature.
"Oh just put it on the coat rack," she smiled.
Darien did as he was told and placed his coat neatly on the coat rack after sitting the bags beside the door. Then, he remembered to other item he had trudged up the slippery steps. "Uh, this is for you," he said, holding out the pot of poinsettias for Ilene to have.
"How sweet. Thank you." She paused to set the flowers on a nearby table. "Well, I need to finish dinner. My husband is in the living room watching the game. If you'd like, you can join him."
Darien thought back to the night before and remembered the non-too- trilled look he had seen on Mr. Mathis's face when Ilene had invited him to dinner. "Would it be alright if I helped you with dinner?"
"Nonsense! You're the guest, and are to be treated as-"
"Sammy!" yelled a female voice coming from upstairs. "Give that back! Sammy, you get back here this instant! I mean it!"
Darien looked up the stairs and watched as a small boy came running down the stairs at full speed, his eyes wide in fear even though he was smiling. When he reached the bottom, he ran for his mother.
"Sammy!" yelled the female again while rushing down the stairs. When she reached the bottom, she pointed an accusing finger at Sammy as he peeked out from behind his mother's legs. "That little, little, maggot took my brush, and he won't give it back!" Serena exasperatedly said, completely oblivious to their guest.
Serena needed to get the brush back so she could look presentable when Darien came. She was not about to let her shopping spree with her friends be in vain. Something had to come out of the four hours of shopping, sore feet, and Mina's constant chattering. She was going to impress Darien, if not for herself, then for her friends, who were sure to grill her over the night's events.
She continued to glare at her brother, willing him to give her the brush. How was it, that I was given such an intolerable brother? she wondered. Was she cursed? Maybe.
"Serena," Ilene said trying to get her daughter's attention. When her daughter ignored her, she tried again, this time louder, "Serena."
Serena turned her eyes to look at her mother, but her face and finger remained pointed at her little brother. "Yeah?" Serena asked, wondering what the cause of her mother's knowing smile was.
"We have a guest."
Serena blinked. A guest? It couldn't be Darien.could it? He has another five more minutes until he is supposed to arrive. But, then Serena averaged in her head the time it took to chase her brother around the house, and came up with a startling discovery.
Slowly she turned her face, and her eyes- if possible- grew wider.
Ilene had to bite her tongue to keep the laugh bubbling in side of her from escaping. Her daughter's bewildered face was almost too much to handle. She snuck a glance at Darien, and saw that he too was fighting back a laugh.
Darien was indeed fighting back a laugh, but his attention was not focused on Serena's predicament. It was focused on her appearance. Her eyes that reminded him of sparkling blue pools were wide. Her cheeks crimson, as if a rose had been brushed across their soft surface and left its color behind. Her long blond tresses hung loosely down her back, while her long bangs brushed across her ivory forehead. She certainly had the deer-caught- in-headlights look perfected.
Although she looked ridiculous, she still gave off the impression of innocence and, dare he say it, beauty. Gone was the calm and colleted girl from the night before. Instead, in front of him stood a flustered young woman dressed in a red jumper. It was hard for him to decide which he liked better: calm and collect, or innocent. In the end, he gave up deciding.
Serena stared at Darien, wishing it was all a dream, but when she saw the smirk on Darien's face, she realized no dream could be this cruel.
She started to run over the possible solutions to her problem. She could always laugh like a ditz, and brush it off. She could acknowledge his presence and go back to scolding her brother. Then, there was always the possibility of running up to her room and hiding there the rest of the night.
She considered the last option but then determined that none of her choices would work.
Instead, she raised her shoulders and stood to her full height of 5' 4" and dropped her accusing finger that had been pointing at her brother. "Hello, Darien."
"Hello, Serena." He then turned to Ilene, "Thank you for inviting me to dinner."
"Think nothing of it, Darien. Now, you just go ahead into the living room and watch the game with Ken."
"Are you sure you wouldn't like me to help you?" He asked again.
"I'm positive." Then turning to her daughter, "You go on upstairs and fix your hair." Serena opened her mouth to speak, but Ilene cut her off, "If you need a brush that bad, borrow mine."
"Don't worry, Mom. As soon as I get mine back from." She trailed off as she turn to the spot in which Sammy had been standing moments before. Instead of Sammy, there was a bare spot of hardwood floor.
She balked. Where had the brat gone?
She had just lost her favorite brush, and there was no telling whether or not if she'd get back. With her shoulder's slumped, she began to ascend the stairs, while calling a defeated "I'll bring your brush back" to her mother.
Both Ilene and Darien watched as she climbed the stairs. Ilene shook her head and headed towards the kitchen, while Darien continued to gaze up the stairs.
When Darien finally realized he was alone in the foyer, he had an inner struggle on where to go. He could go into the kitchen and ask Ilene to let him help, or he could go face Papa Bear. Darien sighed when he realized that if he went to the kitchen he would be forced out anyway.
He approached the living room carefully. He knew how fathers could be towards young men his age when their daughters were involved. Even if a guy- like Darien- wasn't trying to woo a man's daughter, the guy must be cautious anyway. And that's just what he was going to be. Cautious.
Darien suddenly had a flashback of his senior prom.
Darien and Sarah Thomason had been nothing but friends since the eighth grade and since neither of them had a date to the prom, they had decided to go together as friends.
It had been ten minutes since his arrival, and Sarah had yet to come down. During Darien's entire wait, Jack Thomason, Sarah's father, had sat in silence across from him. The wait wouldn't have been so bad had it not been for the knowledge that Jack was acting different around Darien then in their previous meetings. Jack would usually strike up a conversation, but tonight was different.
But the real cause of Darien's distress was the rifle that Jack insisted upon cleaning in front of Darien.
The gun sat in Jack's lap as he stroked it with a cloth like he would a kitten. Darien gulped as he watched Jack's calloused hand move the cloth across the barrel. And if possible, the silence in the room became even more unbearable.
But then the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs reached his ears, and he hastily got up from his seat to meet is date at the bottom of the steps.
Before he could reach the steps, however, he heard Jack say, "I don't want to have this talk again," knowing full and well that he hadn't spoken a word the entire time Darien was there.
Darien watched as Jacks face lit up into a small smile showing he was joking, but the real threat that lie beneath was still apparent.
Yes, Darien thought humouredly, fathers were not a force to reckon with.
He approached the living room slowly, wondering what he would say to Mr. Mathis once there. Maybe they would strike up a conversation about the football game that Ilene had said he was watching or maybe the weather.
No, the weather was a bad idea. He wanted to impress Mr. Mathis, not bore him to death. And what topic was boring and had no creativity in it what so ever? Why, the weather of course.
Why was he so worried about impressing Mr. Mathis in the first place? This was not one of his father's fancy dinners that required him to be the utmost gentleman. No, this was a relaxed dinner at the home of a family that was practically strangers, No big deal.Right?
Maybe he was so worked up over first impressions because he wanted to show these people he wasn't some lowlife and that he really was the hero that depicted him to be. But there was a good chance that he'd never see these people ever again; so, why did he worry about what these people thought about him?
Deep inside, a small part of him knew the answer to that silent question he asked himself. But that small part of him was too small to respond, and the question remained unanswered to Darien.
Darien enter the "lion's den" and saw that the lion himself was intently watching a football game on the television. He sat, leaning forward slightly, in a sofa chair, eyeballs glued to the screen.
Darien approached Ken and stopped to the side of him, careful as to not stand in front of the TV.
"Mr. Mathis, I'm Darien Shields," he said, holding his hand out for Ken to shake.
Ken's eyes strayed from the television to look at Darien, but he still watched the football game from the corner of his eye.
Ken couldn't decide on whether he should be nice to the boy or not. He wanted to assume the role of protective father like he had always done before, but he had done a little thinking since last night and realized that some of the things Ilene had told had been true. Whether he liked or not, the boy had saved his daughter.
He could give the boy some credit on a few other things too. Ken had heard how polite he had been to Ilene when he had come in, and manners were something Ken held in high regard. The boy also knew how to dress, unlike the other boys Ken had seen around town who had their pants hanging down below their butts and their underwear showing.
But the well-mannered boy in front of him could be a fake, and Ken hated a fake.
One particular fake came to Ken's mind: His father, the man who had left his mother when she was eighteen and six months pregnant.
Ken had never met his father, and he was damn glad, especially after he found out the whole story. He could still hear his mother's voice as she told him the story when he was fifteen.
"I was eighteen and lonely," she said, her voice distant as she once again relived that part of her life. "My boyfriend Sam had just broken up with me after he realized I wouldn't give him what he wanted. I was heartbroken and thought it was my fault. To ease the pain, I took a walk, not caring where I went or how I got there.
"Well, when I finally did stop walking, I realized I had ended up outside some rundown bar. I was tempted to go inside, but the thought of a drink was as appealing as people make it out to be. I was about to turn around and walk back home, but the door of the bar opened and through it came your father.
"He saw me, looked me over, and flashed a smile in my direction. When I didn't smile back, he asked if something was wrong. I told him everything was fine.
" 'A pretty thing like you shouldn't be here alone,' he had said. He played my weakness, called me beautiful, smart, and whatever else he could come up with.
"I fell for it, and in my emotional state, I ended up falling into his bed. Six months later I started to show, and every kind word he had called me when we met didn't seem to apply to me anymore. He left me, and I quit college and returned home.
"Don't be like your father, Ken. Find that special someone and treat her right. Have a family full of love and happiness. Get the small white house with a picket fence to raise your nice family in. Just don't be like your father."
Ken hadn't let himself be like his father. He had done like his mother had told him, and ended up with the perfect life, unlike his mother.
She had never gotten married, claiming Ken was the only man she needed in her life, but Ken often wondered if the real reason was because she didn't want to risk history repeating itself.
He wasn't about to let history repeat itself either, and he feared it would be Serena that would make the wrong decisions. Not because he thought she was unintelligent, but because she was too naïve. He had to look after his daughter.
Ken stood and took Darien's offered hand. I was time for the questions.
"How old are you?" Ken asked.
Uh-oh, Darien thought, the Third Degree. "Eighteen."
"Where are you attending college?"
"Syracuse, Sir"
"What's your major?"
"Medicine."
"What are your intentions with my daughter?"
Whoa, Darien hadn't expected that one. Sure he figured Mr. Mathis was thinking the question, but he hadn't thought he would voice it. How was he supposed to answer a question like that when he had no idea what his intentions were himself? Honestly, was the only answer that came to mind.
"To be honest, Sir, I don't know what my intentions are. I do not know your daughter well enough to form any intentions that go farther than friendship."
Ken looked good and hard into Darien's eyes. He's not lying, Ken realized.
Ken didn't know if he should be happy or disappointed that the boy was telling the truth. He could be happy because if Serena was interested in the boy, he was a pretty good catch. But, Ken was slightly disappointed because he now had no reason to be mad at him.
Ken did have one last question to ask Darien, and this question, if answered wrongly, could change Ken's whole opinion of Darien.
"Cowboys or Redskins?" Ken asked, his face completely serious.
Darien blinked. Ken wanted to know what football team he rooted for? Oh dear, if he answered wrong, Darien knew that dinner would not be a good one. He decided that honesty must be the best policy, and he told the truth.
"Cowboys."
Ken stared at Darien, his face a mask. Then, one side of his mouth lifted into a smile and Darien became more relaxed.
"Well, Darien, call me Ken. You want to watch the game? It's either that or trying to talk your way into the kitchen."
Ken sat back down in his sofa chair and resumed watching the game.
Darien, more at ease, took a seat on the couch and took this time to get a better look at Ken.
Ken Mathis looked to be in his late forties, and although he seemed to be thinning a little around top, Darien could tell from Ken's profile that he had been a handsome man in his youth. Darien figured Ken was still considered handsome, but it was a more refined kind of handsome, not boyish. A few laugh lines were carved into his face, but they didn't make him seem older.
Yes, Darien liked Ken, much more than his own father, and for some reason, Darien felt a little saddened at the thought. But, he didn't want to think about the sudden emotion, and he began to focus his attention on the game.
Ken realized that he slightly enjoyed Darien's silent company. With his own son too young to enjoy the game of football, it was nice to be in the company of a younger male who did understand the game for once. He couldn't wait until Sammy was older.
Ken watched Darien out of the corner of is eye. Yeah, the boy couldn't be that bad if he was a Cowboys fan.
There was no way she was going downstairs again.
Serena continued to brush her hair in front of the mirror, the event from downstairs playing over and over in front of her eyes, almost as if the mirror were a television screen. She imagined what she had looked like with hair tousled and her face, makeup free. If it was half as bad as she imagined it, disaster was an understatement.
She sighed and placed her mom's hairbrush the vanity and preceded to fix her hair up into a style that Raye had dubbed the meatball hairstyle. When her hair was finished, she got up from the stool and walked to the window where the sun was already setting.
The setting sun reminded her of a painting she was saw at the local art museum, bright and colorful. It was the perfect backdrop for the bare trees and snow covered ground. The endless array of colors was mesmerizing to watch as the yellow faded into orange, the orange into pink, then to purple, and finally the black of night.
It was sad to see the colors fade away to the dark, but Serena knew that tomorrow would bring another sunset, one more beautiful than today's.
Serena continued to stare at the darkened sky as the first stars began to appear, and she almost forgot about the events from downstairs.
Almost.
"Serena, honey, it's time for dinner!" her mother called.
Damn. Serena had hoped her mother had forgotten about her. Evidently, she hadn't.
"Coming, Mom." Serena called back. Although how soon she would be coming down, she didn't know. A week, maybe?
"Well," Serena told herself, "Running away from your fears will never get rid of them. Eventually they'll catch up with you and bite you in the ass." Although she was trying to be serious and talk herself into going downstairs, she couldn't suppress the image that formed in her mind of Darien chasing her around her house and when he caught her, he.
She shook her head. Those images were not going to motivate her into going downstairs. If those images were motivating her to do anything, it was climbing out her window and sliding down the drainpipe, which, at the moment, seemed like the better alternative.
Serena began to pace back and forth at the foot of her bed.
Risk of embarrassment or drainpipe. Risk of embarrassment or Drainpipe.
"Serena!" her mother called again, this time right outside her bedroom door, causing Serena to jump. "Sweetie, dinner is ready."
Serena sighed. It seemed the decision was already made; she had to go downstairs or else she had to deal with her mother.
She opened her door, and there was her mother, smiling knowingly.
"Problem?" Ilene asked sweetly.
Serena groaned. Her mother just knew her too well. It had to be that relationship of the womb that she once saw on a TV special. It was actually quite interesting to hear the story of a woman who somehow felt that her son was in trouble when she was miles away from him. Serena briefly wondered if her mother had felt anything the night before. Maybe she'd ask later.
"No, Mom. Everything is fine," Serena lied, even though she knew her mother could see right through her lie. But Serena also knew her mother wouldn't comment on it either.
"Well, come on then. You don't want dinner to get cold do you?" Ilene asked, knowing Serena's weakness lay in food.
Serena smiled, knowing what her mother was trying to accomplish. If her mother intended to bribe her with food, who was she to disappoint her? She accompanied her mother down the stairs and into the dinning room where Darien, her father and little brother were already seated. Her father was seated at the head of the table, and surprisingly enough, with Darien to his right. An extra chair had been brought in and placed beside Sammy while the chair that was usually positioned at the other end of the table opposite Ken, had been moved to the other side of Darien. The food was already sitting on the table, teasing them with it's smell.
Serena felt bad for having made everyone wait, and it made her reasons for not coming down seem entirely too selfish. But as she looked at her father and Darien, she noticed that they didn't seem too dejected because of their wait. In fact they looked as if they were content just as they were. As Serena sat down next to Darien, she began to listen to their conversation.
"Can you believe they traded their coach?" Ken asked incredulously.
Darien was shaking his head, a look of disbelieving on his face, "Why in the world would they allow him to leave. Rumor has it that he wasn't being paid enough, but I doubt that. Who wouldn't pay to have him coaching their team?"
Ken was about to respond when Ilene glided through the kitchen door to take her seat beside Sammy. She placed her napkin in her lap and then reached over to put a napkin in Sammy's lap.
"Can we eat now?" Sammy whined.
Serena smiled to herself. Serves him right for taking my brush, she thought while placing her own napkin in her lap.
"Not before we say the blessing," Ilene said. "And because you're so anxious to eat, Sammy, how about you do the honors?"
Sammy sat up straight as a ramrod, proud to have been chosen. He bowed his head and clasped his hands at his chin. His eyes closed causing his long lashes to brush is cheeks that had yet to loose their baby fat. He reminded Serena of a tiny cherub.
Once everyone had followed his example, he started the simple blessing he had been taught by his mother.
"Thank you for the world so sweet," he said in his childishly sweet voice. "Thank you for the food we eat. Thank you for the birds that sing. Thank you, God, for everything. Amen."
A chorus of amen's followed, and then arms began reaching for the nearest dishes.
Serena reached for the mashed potatoes and helped herself to a spoonful. She passed the bowl to Darien, and he gave her the plate with the chicken on it. Their hands lightly brushed during the exchange, and both of them barely noticed the way their stomachs jumped.
Barely.
Serena grabbed the chicken away from Darien as fast as she could without being rude. Her embarrassment from the earlier events was replaced by bewilderment. What had just happened? She glanced at Darien to see if he looked just as confused as she felt, instead of finding him starring at his hand in bafflement, she saw that he had resumed the conversation with her father that he had been partaking in before the blessing.
What just happened was certainly more important than football. But then she wondered: Did he even feel it? She looked at him again, he certainly didn't seem to have felt it.
Serena began to wonder if whatever it was she felt was related to the feeling romance writers are always writing about, the one she always had thought had been something some over imaginative woman had come up with. Or was it? Maybe it was something that happens when you're attracted to a person, and there was no doubt in Serena's mind that she was attracted to Darien. She had been aware of her attraction to Darien since she met him last night, when their eyes met in a clash of bewildered sky versus the endless depths of a churning ocean.
Maybe, Serena thought with a sigh, Darien didn't feel anything because he isn't attracted to me.
But Darien was just as confused as Serena, maybe even more so because of his lack of knowledge in romance novels. Unlike Serena, though, he decided to push that matter to the back of his mind instead of dwelling on it. If he was to dwell on it, he knew he wouldn't be much of a guest because instead of socializing with them, he would retreat to his on little world where he could think everything through logically.
Yes, logically, was the only way to do things if you wanted to do them right. He wasn't spontaneous, and was happy because of it. Orderly was the way he liked things, and any other way, he became panicky.
Some called his fetish a curse, but he called it a gift because he knew that he would succeed in life because of it. He would become the doctor he always wanted to be, even if it as against his father's wishes.
Darien still remembered the day he confessed he was going to be a doctor and not the lawyer his father had wanted him to be. His father's face had turned red, but his hands had remained steady in an amazing restraint, for Darien knew his father had wished to reach out and slap him. It had been the first time he had dared to stand up against his father, and he had won. He had finally become his own man.
"So, Darien, are you going to the parade tomorrow?" Ilene asked after swallowing a bite of mashed potatoes.
Darien turned his gaze to Ilene and smiled lopsidedly, "I haven't really thought about it."
Ilene smiled sadly, but there was a gleam in her eyes. "You should really go. It would should be fun." Then as an after thought, she added, "Serena's going."
Serena's eyes grew, and her cheeks burned as she blushed. She stared unbelieving at her mother, as her body seemed to freeze. Her hand became slack around her fork, and it dropped from her hand to the floor. She didn't even realize it was missing until she heard it clang on the hardwood floor.
Numbly she reached down to grab the fork, her eyes still gawking at her mother. Serena was shaken out of her reverie, however, when her head something very hard.
She groaned and turn her head sideways, and once again she fell captive to Darien's gaze. The pain in her head was forgotten, and so was the fork that still lay on the floor.
But whatever force was holding their eyes together was broken when Ken cleared his throat. Serena blushed and ducked under the table to retrieve the elusive fork. When she brought her head up, fork in hand, she spared a glance at her father but avoided Darien's eyes.
Oddly enough, her father wasn't scowling at Darien as she had been expecting him to be. Instead, he was staring fixatedly at some point on the wall, a look of contemplation etching his features. Weird, she thought, normally Dad would have been glaring daggers at any boy I showed an interest in.
But Serena was knocked out of her thoughts when she heard Darien say, turning to her mother, "You know, Ilene, I think I just might go watch the parade tomorrow after all."
TO BE CONTINUED
A.N.: Hoped you liked this chapter. Please give comments, suggestions, and even flames if necessary. Until next time.