Spindrift

Chapter Eleven

1880

______

Michel's was the sort of restaurant that Ariel knew about, but under ordinary circumstances could not see herself entering on her own accord.

That it had a lot to do with her poverty experience. She never really had the money to eat at a place that was marketed with four-dollar signs. She could save for such an excursion, of course, but when the unpredictability of her dad's disorders overtook really any chance of a date night or a fancy dinner night, it seemed rather frivolous and pointless to even plan on a dinner like this.

From the garden reception area, where guests waited to dine, to the foyer for check in, the Greco-Roman culture blended with the reef and beach culture of the Nereids. Cultivated palms, birds of paradise, blooming flowers of all sorts lined the parking lot and walk path.

Fountains spilled water into waiting basins, their spouts shaped like shells – conch shells, oyster shells and spirals, lit up with LED lights of assorted colors, predominately green, reflected off the surface of the concrete.

Ariel crossed her arms over her middle, looking around as she and Lee waited in the line for the hostess stand.

"What?" Lee asked, rubbing her arm.

"How do I belong here?" Ariel asked.

"You're my wife," Lee said.

"You married me, knowing it was a step down," Ariel said.

"Why?" Lee asked. "Because my dad played it smart with his military career and your dad has had problems stemming from it? They were men with the same choices to make, just different goals in the end."

"And different outcomes," Ariel said. She shook her head. "But why do I belong here? I am so beneath this place -."

"Hey, the court said you were guilty. The jury said you were guilty of what happened but are you truly?"

"No," Ariel said.

"Then why shouldn't you be here, as my wife?" Lee asked.

They were finally at the front of the line, greeting the smiling hostess with smiles of their own.

They were shown to the dining room where the Harvettis were seated at a round table.

Kent Harvetti had statesmanship. His presence filled the room in much the same way as Perrin did, his mostly grey hair combed smartly back out of his eyes and tie properly done well. The suit was a few shades lighter than the jacket Ariel bought for her husband, so she felt some relief there. At least one of the things she made the decision of on her buying spree worked out.

Based on how the women around her were dressed, Ariel felt immediately underdressed. She didn't have a necklace, let alone the thick, layered baubles or other shiny things. She had the thin, dull gold band that served as her wedding ring. Although her ears were pierced, she stopped wearing earrings when she couldn't keep Ian from pulling on them.

Whatever unease she felt in the lobby bloomed standing next to her husband as they were shown to the dining area.

And changed so completely when Kent motioned to his wife, introducing her.

"Marisol," Ariel said, stealing the word away from him.

She hadn't changed, and Ariel wasn't sure that was a good thing. Slowly, Marisol stood, her brassy blonde hair gathered at the base of her neck and shaped into a perfect bun. The woman and her pears – she wore several strands of them of different length, the longest gathered and knotted right at the perfect point in her cleavage.