Draw Me A Picture (46 page)

OSCAR MET them at the door when they returned to the Brownstone.

“Sheesh... I thought I’d have to send the National Guard out to retrieve you,” he grumbled, “… And, I see you bought the whole mall.” Smiling, Michelle put her bags down inside the entry and pointed at William.

“It’s his fault, officer,” she quipped. “He made me do it.”

“Stool pigeon,” William said, kissing her cheek. “It’s true; I picked out a large amount of nice clothes for her and forced her to accept them. It’s terrible really... I’m a horrible person.” Michelle poked his shoulder.

“I got him to buy an actual T-shirt,” she said, smiling; her comment made William grimace.

“I do possess such a thing already, sweetheart,” he said, folding his arms in front of him. “I’m not a complete snob.”

Oscar chuckled.

“Well you guys look nice enough for the meeting tonight,” he said. Both William and Michelle looked at him confused. “You remember,” Oscar continued, smiling. “I’m officially supposed to meet your fiancé tonight. 7pm. Marco’s.” Michelle laughed.

“Yes, I remember,” she said, smiling. “When should we leave?” Oscar checked his watch.

“Oh, in about two hours; subway will be jammed so we’ll have to wait… with the rest of the common people.”

At this, William smiled and sighed in a long-suffering manner.

“I have ridden the Subway, before, sir,” he said. Michelle kissed his cheek.

“I’m sure you have,” she said, giving the man a sweet smile. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll just go up and shower and puts these lovely things away, if that’s alright.”

“Yeah, go ahead,” Oscar said, sitting down on a slightly worn, red plaid couch. A football game was playing on TV.

“Do you need any help, love?” William asked, as Michelle gathered up the shopping bags. The pink striped one especially caught his eye and he winked at her, causing yet another blush.

Oscar cleared his throat.

“None of that,” he said from the couch. “I’m certain my niece can shower without help.” This time, William’s face turned red; bright red.

“I meant... help with the bags,” he stuttered, looking very uncomfortable. Oscar popped open a beer.

“Sure you did, Sport,” he said. “Sit down and have a beer.” Michelle giggled all the way up the first two flights of stairs, much to William’s annoyance.

“Minx,”
he thought, smiling.
 

Upstairs in the gray spare room Michelle laid out the items from the various bags on the bed; it felt a little like Christmas morning. In the mall she really hadn’t realized all the things William had chucked into the bags, being far too distracted by the sight of him in that shirt. Michelle lifted up a little package of apple blossom soap and body spray; she smiled. He’d put in one or two bottles of lotion marked ‘sensual’, she noticed.

“Well, two can play at that game,”
she thought.
 

Michelle showered using the apple soap and conditioner; after drying her hair she put on the same dark, blue dress and tights, sprayed lightly with the perfume. She tousled her hair a little and smoothed it with much brushing. Smiling at her reflection, she put on dark blue eyeliner and smoky gray eye shadow along with some shiny lip-gloss. Finding the pair of new heels, Michelle put them on over the black tights, bending down to fasten the ankle strap.

Looking over, Michelle saw a bit of white sticking out of one of the remaining shopping bags. Reaching into it, she pulled out a white wool pea coat, looking at it with her mouth open.

“That turkey,” she said, darkly. A smile was not far from her lips, however; it was such a pretty coat. She tried it on and liked how it let just a little of her dress show out below it. Taking it off again, Michelle glanced in the mirror; surprised, she stared at herself. Her makeup seemed a bit dramatic, though no more than most girls wore. It was just a little strange to look in a mirror and see a slightly sultry Michelle looking back at her. Taking a deep breath, she left the room with her new coat.

“I’m ready,” she called out, once down in the living room. William and Oscar were on their respective couches and looked over at her.

“Good heavens,” her fiancé said, looking a little flushed. “Very nice.” Michelle gave him a sweet smile.

“Can I come give you a kiss of gratitude?” she asked, coyly. William drank in the sight of her, rubbing the back of his neck. His face took on a reddish hue, Michelle noticed.

“Bloody hell,” William murmured. Oscar heard him and chuckled.

“I think you’d just torture the poor guy, Michelle,” he said, standing up. “Best to give him a little space while looking as pretty as you do. I’ll get my coat.”

Oscar led them out of his domicile and down the chilly sidewalk.

“It’s only a few blocks to the station,” he said, back to the couple walking a little behind him. “It’s a good walk for me in the morning.”

“Very convenient,” William remarked absently. He was busy gazing down at Michelle as she walked gracefully beside him; she looked so alluring that he was having trouble concentrating. He nearly walked into a pole when Michelle smiled up at him through her lashes. He hovered near her like a guardian all through the Subway ride, something which amused Oscar very much. Michelle felt a few stares directed her way and put her arms around William’s waist and looked up at him adoringly; he exchanged several tender looks with her as the swaying subway bore them under the river, through lower Manhattan and finally to midtown.

Marco--the restaurant proprietor--looked genuinely glad to see them when they arrived. He kissed Michelle’s hand and clapped William on the back, giving them several congratulations on their upcoming marriage. He did not however lead them up to the upper balcony but into a large, corner table in the crowded main room. The room buzzed with the low hum of conversations and periodic laughter. As they waited for their dinner, Marco brought over a quartet of musicians in traditional minstrel dress: two violinists, a guitarist and a mandolin player. The men played sweet, love-strewn pieces from the heart of Italy. The whole dinner environment changed with the music, being relaxed but a little lively as well.

Oscar had three glasses of wine and stood up after dessert, tapping his glass with a fork.

“I want to drink a toast to William and Michelle, may they have a long, full life and a close, loving marriage. May they never be apart, in either soul or spirit.” He lifted his glass and Marco did as well. Oscar managed to take the young couple at his table completely by surprise by belting out ‘That’s Amore’ with Marco in an impromptu off-key duet. Michelle laughed softly to herself during the song and clapped heartily at the end.

William stood up after his boss sat down. He raised his glass to Oscar.

“To the oddest and best relative I could have by marriage,” William said. “May you always be able to do exactly what you want, social confinements and OSHA regulations notwithstanding…” Oscar chuckled at this and drank to the toast with an amused expression. “… And to my lovely bride to be,” William continued, looking down at Michelle; she returned his gaze with her striking eyes and smiling lips. “May our loneliness forever be a thing of the past.”

Michelle smiled up at him, a little emotion rising into her eyes. She held William’s hand as he sat down again next to her.

“I think you’re wonderful,” she said, her eyes shining. “When I met you, I never thought I’d get to call you. Just ten more days, and I can.” William kissed her closed fingers; he looked at his watch.

“Actually, it’s almost nine days more,” he said, in a low voice. “Just over a week, love.” Michelle nodded and leaned against his shoulder. The world seemed to be at a standstill for a few, blissful moments. The couple sat together, simply enjoying the sounds and sights of their quiet celebration.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

For the second time in ten days, Michelle woke up in an unfamiliar room. The gray walls and red-shaded overhead light jogged her memory. Michelle rolled over. A group of shopping bags on the floor met her eye; she smiled, thinking of William. He alone could get away with such a stunt. The pink-striped box stood on a chair like a silent reminder of intriguing times ahead. Michelle threw off the covers, smiling happily. Glancing at the small clock, she decided to shower. It was only 5:30 in the morning, but Michelle’s uncle had informed the previous evening that Laurel and her entourage would stop by his place early to pick her up.

The hot shower relaxed her a bit too much; turning the water briefly to ‘cold’ seemed to remedy this problem. Michelle spent most of the time washing and thinking about the dinner last night; William’s sincere words rang through her mind like the song of distant church-bells.

“May our loneliness be forever a thing of the past,” she repeated, smiling.

After drying her hair, Michelle put on a white, long sleeved t-shirt and found another pair of black tights; she noticed William threw in about ten of them. Looking through the bag, Michelle found the tweed skirt he liked so much and bit her lip. Perhaps she could stop by his office for lunch. It was Saturday, but William was making up the previous day’s ‘vacation’. A smile overtook her face. Modeling the skirt in front of the door mirror, Michelle decided it was a bit short, but not too bad; it did have a crisp, modern look to it. Dragging out the slender black boots, she put them on and laced them up tightly over her ankles. One of the sweaters Beryl picked out for her peeked out of a bag, a cheery, apple-red color. Michelle picked it up and felt stunned at the softness of it; she grudgingly admitted Beryl may have been right about the cashmere verses wool debate.

Stepping quietly downstairs, Michelle did not see her uncle anywhere. She found the kitchen with ease; it was a pleasant though starkly decorated room with black counters, shiny metal fixtures and clean, wood floors. On the counter a coffee maker sat, automatically brewing; the thick smell of it filled the air. Feeling a bit awkward in the strange space, Michelle wondered if she should touch anything; she didn’t want to mess something up or cause her uncle’s routine to suffer. A small white piece of paper on the counter by the coffee maker caught her eye. Picking it up, she read it and smiled. It read: ‘Use whatever you like.’

Oscar walked down the stairs a quarter of an hour later. He buttoned up his gray suit coat, migrating towards the smell of coffee like a moth to a flame. Pushing open the kitchen door, he was greeted by the sight of his niece slipping a tasty-looking omelet on a plate.

“Hello, Uncle Oscar,” she said, smiling; she looked very respectable in her new red sweater. Oscar smiled.

“You like calling me that, don’t you?” he said, sitting on a bar stool on the opposite side of the counter.

“I have a lot of making up to do,” Michelle told him. She poured a cup of coffee and looked at her uncle with an inquiring face.

“Black is fine,” he said, reaching for the cup. He eyed the omelet as he sipped the hot beverage. “That looks good.” Michelle smiled and slid it over to him.

“Shallots and mushrooms with Monterrey jack cheese,” she informed him. “I’ll have you know that I have never heard of a bachelor having shallots in their kitchen, ever before.”

“I like them minced on tacos,” Oscar informed her, taking a bite of the omelet. He looked down at the plate and chewed a little faster. “This is good,” he said, cutting another piece. “I usually do peanut-butter sandwiches or cereal.” Michelle smiled as she finished making the second omelet. She sat a couple spaces down from her uncle.

“Happy to be of service,” she said, taking a bite herself. They ate a moment in a sort of content silence. It occurred to Michelle that any awkwardness she may have felt around her uncle had all but evaporated.

“So, how are the wedding plans going?” Oscar asked, after a few minutes. Michelle swallowed and took a small drink of milk.

“Very well; it’s almost done, really,” she said, smiling a little. “Laurel is amazingly efficient.”

Oscar chuckled.

“Yep,” he said, finishing his coffee. “She’s the best assistant I’ve ever had.”

“I find it very hard to be exasperated with her; she’s always so cheerful,” Michelle continued, her smile growing.

“It’s her secret weapon,” Oscar said, laying his silverware on the plate. “I’ve seen her make even hard-bitten lawyers smile with her never-ending helpfulness.”

Thinking back on Laurel's reaction to meeting Luca, Michelle cleared her throat a little.

“I don’t mean to pry, but do you think she’s happy?” she asked, trying to casual. Oscar looked at her for a few moments.

“You think I keep her too busy,” he stated. Michelle looked him in the eye.

“No,” she said, truthfully. “She chose this job and she has devoted herself to it.” She paused to sip her coffee. “I just hope that when she does find love, she’ll be able to devote herself to that.”

Oscar smiled.

“You mean without abject pressure from her beloved boss?” he asked. Michelle nodded. Oscar poured himself some more coffee. He looked at Michelle. “You know something.” Michelle shrugged a little and stood up.

“Maybe,” she said, smiling; she took Oscar’s plate and hers to the sink. No more was said but Michelle felt she’d prepared him for the possibility of his wonderful assistant falling for a certain café-owning Italian
immigrant. Washing the dishes, she smiled, wondering if Laurel had been back to Luca’s café already. There was something very familiar in the gaze those two had given each other; Michelle recognized it immediately. It was the same look William and she had shared that day on the street corner. Thinking of William’s blue eyes, Michelle finished cleaning the omelet pan, a dreamy smile on her face.
 

Oscar let Laurel, Drake and Daniels in about twenty minutes later. Daniels immediately began sniffing the air.

“Something smells good, Mr. Maclane,” he said, looking at Oscar curiously. The man shrugged and sat down with his newspaper on the couch.

“Michelle made omelets,” he said, sipping his coffee. At that moment, his niece walked into the living room.