A Pocketful of Gems

Chapter 5: to set before a king - Part 1

Anger and passion are supposedly one and the same.

If you asked me, however, Im not passionate right now, Im angry. I glared over at Spencer beside me on the sofa; his forecast was heavily overcast, but with no likelihood of rain, due in part to a truce put in place by our joint mediator, Abel.

As luck would have it, Eve sent me the video of Spencer crying, and it tickled my sadistic heart just enough for me not to be mad, but not enough for me to be forgiving.

Too many eyes and ears at Eve's house, no chance that we'd not be exploited for cheap labour at Spencer's house, and the possibility that I'd get car sick on the long ride to Abel's house - left us at my house.

My parents were at work so the house was eerily quiet, we got there and my call of 'honey I'm home', a daily ritual of mine, went unanswered, as was the norm, but not un-teased. Spencer, who closed and locked the door behind us, said nothing and did not join in with the teasing.

He chose the sofa and Eve and Abel chose the two other available seats leaving only the space on the sofa beside Spencer. I didn't mind it; I could deal with Spencer sans the awkwardness and a written and signed truce. I wasn't going to freak out and run off to hide every time I saw his beautiful smiling face. I looked at his face. He was looking at me.

"What?" I growled.

"Hmm?" he startled and sat up straight. "Sorry, what?"

"You're staring."

"Sorry... um, I just noticed you've gotten a few new freckles." I slapped my hands over my cheeks. What? He noticed? Only I ever notice.

"Mind your own business." I snapped and looked away.

"You can tell that?" Eve asked. We looked at her, and she and I looked at Spencer. He mumbled something incoherent and trailed off into silence. He gave a noncommittal smile and turned to me.

"Wanna try eating something?" I shook my head, "at least drink something."

He pleaded with his gloomy eyes.

"Mom stocks Gatorade by the cases, in case of a nuclear fallout."

"I'll get you one," he rose from the sofa, made eye contact with Abel and they both nodded.

"At least you'll ain't super awkward with each other," Eve said.

"Talking to Spence has always been effortless," I admitted, "we would start talking and before you know it we're having a conversation... how long you think his mood is gonna be like this, its totally depressing."

"I'd say till evening," Abel grinned at me. "Spencer has the attention span of a goldfish. I'm surprised he's held out so long, but I reckon he's faking it to get sympathy or to make himself seem cool."

"How's dragging everyone's mood down cool?"

"It's the aesthetics, Gemma," I frowned at him. "All the young kids want that tortured rockstar look."

I looked at Spencer when he came back balancing a tray of drinks, "he's pulling off Edward Cullen."

"Movie or book?" Abel asked.

"The trailer." He laughed out loud.

"Why you two being so mean?" Eve took her drink from Spencer, "or is this some kinda bonding ritual?"

Spencer gave me a tall glass of Gatorade and sat down.

"Do you know any Statistics Gemma?"

"Statistics?" I paused with my glass at my lips. Spencer touched his fingers to the bottom of my glass and I was forced to take a mouthful. I glared at him. "Do you mean like how one in every ten person friend-zoned kills their love interest?"

"Exactly," Abel smiled. "Did you know that 75% of married couples argue about money, 55% about infidelity, 37% about having children and 62% about prior marriages?"

"No..." Spencer put his arm over the back of the sofa.

"Yet only 48% of these couples felt guilty about arguing with their spouse."

"Okay?" I shrugged and brought the glass back to my lips.

"That feeling of guilt, most times, is the deciding factor if their marriage is in a position to be saved."

I put my hands around the glass in my lap, "how?"

"Everyone is guilty of something Gemma; we just need to learn what."

"Well we are talking about my parents, right, so I'm 100% certain it is not infidelity, mom wouldn't get a divorce, she'd have just kill him, 60% certain its not a money issue, 40% certain it is not about having children or issues of another marriage." Spencers fingers touched my shoulder and I shifted away from it.

"Those are only a few reasons for marital arguments," he assured. Eve shifted in her seat, he cooed to her in soft Spanish and she smiled. It sounded like he told her his arms were more comfortable. Spencer tugged at some curls that trailed off my shoulder.

"It might be easier to find the source of their rage towards each other if we focus on one person at a time." Eve looked at Abel for confirmation.

"Baby you're a genius." He looked at me, "think carefully Gemma, who would you say is the main aggressor when your parents argue?"

"Aggressor?" I stared at him incredulous. Spencer's hand rested gently on my shoulder.

"Who picks or start fights?" he didn't change his tone or expression. Abel was being as dethatched as possible. I was already an emotional wreck; I guess someone had to be level-headed.

"Oh, I sipped my Gatorade." I wasn't betraying him I told myself, "Dad. He's always angry about something."

"Does he have a temper?"

"No, no its not his temper, he's just angry about everything."

"Isn't that the same thing?" Eve asked. We looked at Abel.

"No, not necessarily," his mouth twisted and he looked up at the ceiling somehow managing to stay intensely sexy despite frowning. "A temper is a personality disorder, it doesn't need a trigger most times, whereas anger is emotional, usually triggered by something that happened-"

"Or something that was done." They looked at me and back at each other.

"Do you think your dad is feeling guilty about something he did?" Eve asked.

"I can't say for certain," I said in a low whisper, "but I know Im about to."

I folded my hand into a fist and struck Spencer in the ribs. He doubled over.

"How about you contribute and quit trying to get a cheap hug."

"Wasn't my intention," he gasped. He looked up at me, his face brighter. My chest tingled and my lips quirked.

"I was thinking," he sat back and put his arm over the back of the sofa, "if we could speak to someone who knew Mr. Hazelwood, like a male friend or colleague, they might know what's making him so angry, the cause of his guilt. I'm assuming he wasn't always like this?"

I shook my head, "grumpy sometimes, but the fights are pretty recent, as for someone who can offer insight into dad's drastic change of behaviour? I know just the person... Auntie Gale.

"Your favourite aunt who buys you expensive shoes?" Spencers arm was back on my shoulder.

"She's dad's little sister and probably his best friend in the whole world."

"But would she speak to us and not go back to your dad about it?" Abel asked.

"Yes, shes a Psychiatrist, she values the privacy of those she hold council with, formally or informally."

"Would we be able to talk to her soon?"

"Um...she lives two states over."

Eve shrugged, "we can call her."

"No... it has to be face to face," I leant against Spencer and inhaled the sweet scent of maple that clung to him. The cinnamon was still there too and it made me feel warm. "Go with me on this; I have my reasons."

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