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Authors: Meredith Greene

Draw Me A Picture (51 page)

BOOK: Draw Me A Picture
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“That might not be so bad,”
he thought, with an impish grin.
 

William saw his fiancée back to her uncle’s Brooklyn home, though Michelle objected. It was far out of his way. As per his usual trait, William did it anyway.

“You’re very stubborn,” Michelle told him, in the taxi. Chuckling, William draped his arm over her shoulders.

“You have no idea, love,” he said. “In a good way, though. I go for exactly what I want and attain it by all legal means, within reason.” It was Michelle’s turn to laugh.

“I see,” she said, smiling. “And what will you want next, once you’ve attained what you want now?” Michelle immediately wished she’d bit back her words. Even in the dark of the cab, William’s eyes glittered with a strange, almost overpowering look. He leaned forward, holding her to him.

“A family,” he whispered in her ear. “I promised to give you babies remember?” Something about William’s tone made Michelle want to get as close to him as possible. William responded by kissing her ear softly and moving down to her jaw line to her neck.

The window between the cab driver and the backseat slid open.

“No intercourse in my cab,” he barked, making William jump back a little. “Get a room for that.” Michelle blushed furiously, and noted her man did as well.

“We weren’t going to
here
,” William said, sounding nettled. “She’s my fiancée, for heaven’s sake...”
 

“Whatever pal,” the driver said, sliding the window shut. Michelle giggled softly.

“What a bitter guy,” she remarked. William grunted; he did not sound amused.

“Just because the blighter’s not getting any...” he mumbled under his breath. Michelle did not hear all of it but guessed fairly accurately what William said. Blushing, she looked out her window. Street-lamps lit up her face for a split second each time they passed; her skin looked fair and soft. Looking away, William cleared his throat and concentrated on the small, cracked light fixture on the ceiling of the cab. As much as he disliked cold showers, they did help; he could not wait, however, for the day when he’d never have to take one again.

“Eight days... only eight more days. I can do this,”
he thought; he glanced at Michelle. She was worth it. Every discomfort was absolutely worth it. William thought of the honeymoon plans, relaxing back in his seat. “She’ll be so surprised,” he thought, smiling to himself.
 

They said goodnight in the cab; William braved all forthcoming 'angry driver' comments and give Michelle a long kiss before letting her out. She blushed in the most satisfactory manner and skipped up the stairs with a smile. Giving the driver directions to his building, back on the Island, William leaned back, running over the evening’s events in his mind. He thought of Michelle’s words to Cassandra in the ladies’ room and chuckled. His soft-spoken fiancée had rallied herself nicely, proving she could be the Lady of the Castle just fine… especially when threatened. The thought comforted him and he rode home in contented silence.

 

 

 

 

MICHELLE COULD not sleep. Several hours of lying on the spare room bed passed but she could not stop from thinking about possibly harming William’s reputation, just by marrying him. Doubts preyed on her; though part of her mind knew William didn’t care about such things, Michelle knew that others did. What if his family had nothing to do with him after their marriage? Margaret was a gem and very accepting, but not everyone could be so. Sighing in frustration, Michelle threw back the covers and drew on her robe. Her uncle had brought her things from the hotel somehow, and they’d all been dry-cleaned.

The long, silk robe felt good and familiar in this strange place. Softly descending the stairway, Michelle went to find a cup of tea in the kitchen; she needed an area to pace around and think.

Some minutes later, Oscar thought he heard noises downstairs and fully awoke immediately. Grabbing his .45 he silently crept downstairs, the gun at the ready. Soft sounds emanated from the kitchen; light shown out from under the door. Remembering his niece, Oscar approached the kitchen door, soundlessly opening it a crack. Michelle was indeed inside, walking around with a cup in her hand; her face appeared troubled. Putting the safety on, Oscar stowed the gun out of sight in the back of his waistband and pushed the door open.

“You alright?” he asked. Michelle jumped in surprise, one hand to her chest.

“You scared me,” she said, smiling. “Yes, I’m' OK.”

“Sorry about that,” Oscar said, grinning. “I thought I had a home invader.” Michelle smiled ruefully and pointed at herself.

“You kind of do,” she said. “I am sorry I woke you.” Oscar put up a hand.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said. “I could use some tea myself.” Michelle arrested her stride and went back to get him a cup. Oscar accepted the tea gratefully and sat at on a bar stool He sipped the hot liquid, watching his niece walk around in a circle.

“I’m going to go out on a limb here and say you got something on your mind,” he said, trying not to smile. He’d had the pre-wedding jitters himself once; such were not ‘nice’ things to experience. Michelle smiled, continuing to pace.

“I bet that’s fairly obvious,” she said, quietly. “Yes, I am in the 3am ‘clutches of doubt’.” Oscar laughed.

“Well at least I don’t have to guess,” he said. “Your William is a lucky guy to have one of the forthright Gregory women for a wife.” Again, Michelle could not help but smile; she looked over at her uncle and hesitated only a moment before sitting down a couple of seats away from him.

“I can’t help but thinking that William is stepping down several steps--socially speaking--by marrying me… and that eventually he’ll come to resent me for it.” She spilled it all out, knowing her uncle liked to view all the information at once.

Oscar did not answer right away, but sipped his tea for a minute.

“You’re not a girl prone to foolishness, Michelle,” he said, at last. “But, you’re talking like a fool right now.” Michelle felt a little surprised and hurt at his words, but waited for the man to continue. Not hearing an immediate objection and defense, Oscar smiled. Being homeless and unemployed for two years had apparently taught his niece patience… a valuable trait, in his eyes. He leaned forward and looked the young woman in the eye.  “Clearly, the guy likes you,” he went on. “More than that, I think he’s head over heels fallen for you. When a guy feels like that, nothing will stop him... not social status, or money, or anything. You’ll find that most guys have a one-track mind, a stubborn streak if you will; it’s what makes us go after a career we want with everything we’ve got… to toil in the hot sun to pay the bills, or... to go after a girl, when we meet the right one.” His look softened. “He asked you to be his wife, so he’s got honor. He works hard even though he doesn’t have to, so he’s respectable. I heard him speak with you honestly, so why worry about what may or may not happen? If you do that, you’ll just destroy your own marriage with suspicion.” Oscar paused and sipped his tea.

Sitting on her bar stool, Michelle digested this information.

“So, I’m allowing outside influences to determine my future,” she stated. Oscar set down his tea on the counter.

“There’s nothing wrong with listening to outside advice, Michelle,” he said, gravely. “It’s like eating fish; it’s good for you... but you have to spit out the bones.” Michelle laughed, her smile returning.

“That’s not a bad metaphor at all, Uncle,” she remarked. “I understand what you are trying to say. Perhaps I should give William the benefit of the doubt instead of deciding already what he will do, or think.”

“Exactly,” Oscar said. “William comes from a different world, that true, but you two are so much alike in mind and soul it’s almost creepy to watch. Even I can see you guys were made for one another.”

“Until I met William, I did not believe that soul-mates actually existed,” Michelle admitted, drinking her tea. Oscar sighed, a little sadly, Michelle thought.

“They do,” he said, standing up. “Life’s just too short to waste in pondering ‘what-ifs’ and ‘maybes’. Do you love this guy?”

“Yes,” Michelle answered, firmly. Oscar smiled at her quick response.

“Then marry him and don’t look back,” he said. He walked over to the sink and put his cup down in it. “Remember at least this one thing, Michelle; when you marry you’re not one person anymore, but part of another. When you’re his wife, you’ll need to talk with him about these things. Don’t keep them to yourself in some misguided attempt at independence. If you want to be independent, don’t get married. It will just drive a wedge between you, and I’m certain you don’t want that.”

Michelle shook her head.

“I do not,” she said, with conviction. “It’s the whole reason I’m up tonight. I never want him to resent me. I couldn’t bear that.” Oscar smiled.

“Don’t give him a reason to,” he said, sagely. “Then you’ll always be in the clear when ‘misunderstandings’ arise. They will, you know.” Michelle nodded, putting away her own teacup.

“I am aware of that,” she said. “We’ve already experienced a few of those.” Oscar nodded, opening the kitchen door.

“Glad to hear it,” he said. “Life isn’t perfect. But, if you can be honest with each other through troubled times, the good times are that much sweeter for you and can be enjoyed in good conscience.”

At the stairs, Michelle smiled at her uncle with warmth.

“Thank you for the advice,” she said; her face held genuine gratitude. “From the number of poignant things you've said, I can tell you once felt doubt as I do... or something similar.” Oscar nodded.

“Doubts are something you’ll always have to deal with,” he said, plaintively. “But, in marriage doubts are like poison. I’ve just seen far too many couples slowly separate themselves from each other; it was a damn shame every time.” His niece nodded in agreement, and then bit her lip, a look of uncertainty crossing her features.

“I assumed you would....” she began, “But I'd like to ask all the same; would you walk me down the aisle, sir?” Oscar looked at his niece for a few moments.

“I'd be honored to, Michelle,” he replied. Smiling again, Michelle bid her uncle goodnight.

Lying on her bed upstairs, Michelle could not fully explain the wave of comfort she felt. One could go online and get advice from numerous sources about any number of things, but the simple words from her candid, rather unrefined uncle had a deep affect on Michelle. Not only did she feel better, but her mind stopped manufacturing doubts and scenarios to be blown out of proportion. Snuggling deep in the warm blankets Michelle drifted off to sleep, thinking of William’s warm, blue eyes regarding her with both adoration and trust. To her, there remained no better feeling in the world than knowing he loved her.

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER TWENTY

 

 

 

The week prior to the wedding harbored such mad activity Michelle almost did not notice the passage of time at all. Naively, she thought almost everything for the wedding was taken care of but Laurel soon showed her otherwise. Everything had to be re-approved and rechecked and people re-threatened to show up on time. Airplane tickets were bought for relatives flying in and hotel reservations made. True to Daniels’ prediction, the lure of free air-travel and a Waldorf wedding proved too great for even the most distant relatives to resist, though William’s family made up the bulk of the guests.

The ‘fire’ the famous hotel experienced turned out to be nothing more than a prank smoke-device of sorts, placed in a janitors closet on the second floor. Apparently It was not a device that generated heat but merely a dense cloud of chemical ‘smoke’; teenagers staying with their parents in one of the rooms proved to be the culprits. Mr. Chan, the hotel manager appeared nearly gleeful to put the incident behind him and booked the more expensive rooms being for the up-coming wedding guests.

The number of relatives fairly amazed the young bride; she spent several hours on the phone with Margaret and talking to her uncle, sorting out who was who. Feeling like she was back in school cramming for finals, Michelle made note cards and spent her moments of spare time memorizing names. Laurel giggled privately at the cards but did not mock her.

“I can’t believe I’m related to these people and yet we've hardly ever had contact before,” Michelle told William, as they ate lunch on Friday. They ordered pastrami sandwiches to go and found a bench in Grand Central Station. William favored eating lunch there on occasion… just sitting and watching the multi-hued parade of people bustling by. At Michelle’s comment on relatives, her fiancé laughed.

“You and I share that failing, love,” he said. “I hardly hear from my relatives, save for Christmas. My mother has a large party at her London house and even then I have to think very hard to remember everyone.”

“I hope you’ll whisper hints to me in the receiving line,” Michelle said, sighing. “I’ll have a hard time just remembering my own flesh and blood, and I don’t want to insult anyone.” Chuckling, William took a bite of his sandwich. Of the many things this city was famous for, the very best pastrami sandwiches had to be among the top ten. Beside him, Michelle enjoyed lunch trying to ignore the fact she’d have to skip a meal tomorrow to make up for the calories she now consumed.

Wiping his mouth, William looked over at his fiancée. She delicately licked her lips and her fingertips, completely unaware of what such actions did to her loving man. As if to add to his discomfort, she wore that wonderful little tweed skirt, with a form-fitting black sweater with a zipper running down the front. William forced himself to think of anything other than what was beneath said zipper. He failed.

“Two days,”
he thought, taking in a deep breath.
 

After eating, William revenged himself a little by dragging Michelle into a little store that sold cellular phones.

“It’s more for me, love,” he explained, when she objected. “I really despise leaving messages at the hotel, or worse… with your uncle.” Michelle grudgingly admitted he was right. Besides, she loved the idea of being able to dial his number anytime, anywhere and be able to hear William’s voice. She managed to argue him down from the most expensive phone to the more reasonable range.

BOOK: Draw Me A Picture
10.57Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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