Grandfather Robert's Will
Chapter 34's

“If you're being sweet, it's harder for me to prevent myself from doing something stupid.”

Jenson started to raise his glass, but then stopped. “For example?”

“For example...” Rachel lowers her champagne glass, then takes Jenson's and also puts it on the table. While looking at Jenson, Rachel wrapped her hands around the man's neck, then slowly touched her lips to Jenson's lips.

As he had expected, Jenson's lips felt warm and soft. His hand came over Rachel's shoulder, clutching her without a jostle. Maybe they both already understood that the insistence would not be able to curb Rachel. When Rachel softens, when she gives of her own volition, not through seduction, not through demands. So it was Rachel who moved closer, Rachel who attached her body to Jenson's body, offering a hint of intimacy without obedience.

The scent of Rachel's body clenched her tightly, strengthening her emotions. Behind Jenson's hand, Rachel's body felt solid Rachel pulled him deeper.

Rachel did not resist the touch, not when Jenson's hand crept down to her waist or climbed up again. It seems like Jenson had already done so, in a dream that he himself refused to admit. If it's time for an acceptance, Rachel will accept. If this is a time for pleasure, he will welcome it. If he finds both of them while with Jenson, he no longer refuses. Maybe tonight will be a night without questions.

Rachel breaks away but only to smile at him. “You know, I didn't think of you as a cousin when I kissed you.”

“Really?” Jenson was v*lum his wife's lips. Rachel has very full voluptuous and sneering lips. “You think of me as what?”

Rachel knitted her brows. Jenson's arm hugged her, but didn't imprison her. Rachel knows later she must analyze the difference “I haven't had time to think about it.”

“I thought you'd consider me your husband.” Jenson begins to pull her back, but Rachel refuses.

“No. It's just a Christmas present from me, and thanks to you for giving me a special gift, a dog.” he walked up to the tree, Rachel looked down and found a flat box. “Merry Christmas, Jenson.”

Jenson sits on the arm of a chair to open the box while Rachel raises her champagne glass. Rachel gulped it down, observing a little nervously, waiting for Jenson's reaction. After all it was just a memento, he told himself, playing around with his glass stalk. As Jenson tore off the wrapper, Jenson stared at the pencil-made sketch of their grandfather's face without knowing what to say.

Jenson knew the picture frame was made by Rachel herself. The frame was made of silver and full of ornaments in a style that Grandpa Robert would love. But the sketch got Jenson glued. Rachel drew Grandpa Robert according to what Jenson remembered most, standing up, somewhat bent forward as if ready to come up with a new problem. Her remaining thin hair looked tangled. His cheeks seemed to stretch in a large grin that was wide open. The sketches were drawn with love, talent, and humor, three qualities Grandpa Robert possessed and adored. As Jenson looked up, Rachel was still twirling the glass stalk in her hand.

Why Rachel was so nervous, Jenson realized. He never expected Rachel to be like that, which he knew Rachel was always confident, even arrogant about the results of her work. “Rachel. No one has ever given me anything more meaningful than this.“

The lines between Rachel's eyebrows relaxed as her smile expanded. That strange sense of pleasure is hard to hide. “Really?”

Jenson extended her hand. “Really.” He looked at the sketch again and smiled.

“This looks exactly like Robert's grandfather, I miss him a lot.” recalls Jenson.

“And it is very suitable once.” Jenson observed the frame even more closely. Its belly glittered dimly, adorned with curls and stripes. The frame could have been placed in an antique store and passed down as an heirloom, Jenson mused. “I didn't know that you also made these kinds of things.”

“That's. The boutique showcases some of my work.”

“Not in the same category as beads,” his reflection.

“So, yes?” Rachel tilted her chin. “I was thinking about making you a big gold necklace decorated with imitation stone from glass just to irritate you.”

“Maybe it will irritate me.”

“Maybe next year only. Or maybe I'll make one for Bruno.” Rachel looked around. “Where is he?” he's looking for her

“Maybe go to the back of the tree, scavenge for gifts. During his brief stay in the garage, he had already eaten a pair of golf shoes.”

“We will stop such actions,” Rachel announced, and go look for her.

“You know, Rachel, I didn't think you could draw like this.” Jenson leaned against the chair to observe the sketch again. “Why don't you just paint?”

“Why didn't you write a great Action Novel?”

“Because I enjoy what I do now.”

“Quickly once.” Not finding any sign of the puppy around the tree, Rachel began looking for him under the furniture. “Although some painters have been quite successful in trying to design jewelry, I feel…

"Jenson!”

Jenson put back her untouched champagne and rushed to where Rachel was kneeling near the cot. “What's up?” he demanded it, and then he saw for himself what had happened. With eyes closed, breath heavy and loud, the puppy lay under the cot. Even as Rachel grabbed him, Bruno complained and struggled to stand up.

“Oh, Jenson, he's sick. We need to take her to the vet.”

“It's midnight baby. We won't find a vet that opens at midnight on Christmas Eve.” Gently Jenson rubbed Bruno's stomach and heard him groan. “Maybe I can call someone.”