Read Draw Me A Picture Online

Authors: Meredith Greene

Draw Me A Picture (67 page)

BOOK: Draw Me A Picture
7.35Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Walking quietly, he stood by the bedside, his hands in his pockets. Michelle’s face looked so serene; her slender toes peeped out from the bottom of the dark blue throw. Leaning down, William hovered above his ladylove, a fond smile on his lips. Her dark red-brown hair lay on the pillow around her head in a shiny pile, setting off her glowing skin. William enjoyed the sight of his dozing, pregnant wife for several moments before his empty stomach began to object.

“Michelle...” he said, gently. He kissed her forehead, drawing back in time to see her eyes flutter open. The lovely eyes of his Lady focused on him; she smiled.

“You’re home,” she said, lifting her hands to William’s face; she touched him tenderly. Grinning down at Michelle, William nodded.

“I am glad you’re resting more,” he said, leaning down; he kissed her face tenderly. “The house looks wonderful, though, love... and the smell of stew is making my stomach grumble.” Michelle laughed, softly.

“You poor, hungry man,” she said, with sympathy. Her spunky smile flooded William’s with relief. He knew Michelle was often physically uncomfortable being so pregnant; she bore it well, however, and seemed genuinely happy to have his child within her.

William helped his wife stand up; he smiled at her initially awkward steps. He could not imagine what it felt like to have one’s entire center of gravity shifted out front.

“Shall we eat in the living room, love?” he asked, keeping hold of her hand. Michelle regarded him with a grateful look.

“Yes, thank you,” she said. “Those dining chairs do a number on my back now.”

“Not a problem love,” William said. Helping Michelle sit down on the fluffy couch, William brought out trays with bowls of stew and some rolls; as he set the last tray on the coffee table, he sensed his lady watching him.

Glancing at her, William met her eyes; she regarded him in such a fond, loving way he was pulled to her side, like metal to a magnet. She sat with her feet tucked up, her hand draped over her rounded stomach in a protective manner.

“Thank you,” she said, softly. “I could have brought dinner out, you know.” William grinned.

“I am aware of that, sweetheart,” he said, sinking down next to her on the couch. Putting his arm around her shoulder, he leaned closer, inhaling the sweet smell of Michelle’s hair; his other hand joined hers over their hidden baby. “It’s so nice to come home to you.”

The words, though whispered, filled Michelle with a sentimental confidence; sometimes she felt downright ugly, all dis-proportioned and heavy like this. It was nice to know William’s regard for her held fast. Turning to look at her man, Michelle found him contentedly nuzzling her hair, his eyes closed. She took the moment to lean over and steal a kiss from her husband; she giggled as his eyes snapped open.

“I got you,” she said, ignoring William’s raised eyebrow. “It’s hard to do that; you’re so sneaky. And... It’s nice that you come home to me.”

“It would take death for me not to return to you,” William said. Michelle glanced over at him. A cheeky grin rested on his handsome face. “Especially when she is clearly feeling the Minx again.” Michelle sat forward to hide her blush. Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw William move towards her, a certain gleam in his eyes; if she did not act, she’d get tickled... again. Skillfully, Michelle eased William’s tray off the table and onto his lap in one, smooth movement.

“You must be thirsty,” she said, trying to sound innocent. “I’ll get you something to drink.” William was not fooled; grinning, he leaned forward and grabbed two bottles of mineral water from the floor, not taking his eyes from his wife. Her pink-hued face did not escape him.

“Got them already,” he said, grinning. “Don’t think you’ve got away with anything, you little minx.” His words caused Michelle to smile and bite her lip; she settled a little farther away from him on the couch with her own food. Admittedly hungry, William put away his more ‘amusing’ plans for later. They ate to the tune of raindrops pelting the large windows, making ever-shifting patterns on the outside surface. The weak sun set behind the thick clouds, causing the raindrops to glow dark blue against the overcast sky.

“I like the rain,” Michelle said, looking at the windows.

“Do you?” William said, dipping some bread into his stew. “I’m partial to sunshine, myself.” Michelle chuckled softly.

“Who isn’t?” she returned, glancing at him. “Still, the rain is kind of alluring. I know it’s wet and cold and makes people feel miserable, but I think it is amazing. It refreshes the earth and washes away the grime.” She watched the windows a moment, ignoring her food. She felt William’s warm breath on her ear.

“Draw me a picture,” came his voice. Michelle looked over at him, curious. William grinned, an odd light
in his. “A picture of the rain, love,” he explained. “The look on your face tells me that you would make a wonderful picture of it and make others see it as well. You have a gift for that, you know.” Michelle smiled, slowly.
 

“What, did I open your eyes to something?” she inquired; William loved the underlying teasing in her voice.

“You really want me to answer that?” he said, quietly. “If so, I’ll ask you how I’ve changed your life.” His hand slipped gently onto Michelle’s round belly. Below the taut skin of her burgeoning stomach, William felt a sort of fluttering, then a stronger movement. A smile spread over his face; the movements were so human, almost impatient... like the baby wanted to get out and run.

“He’s been moving a lot,” Michelle said, her eyes shining from William’s earlier words. Just seeing him now, feeling their child move within her brought her perilously close to some tender tears; his face was alight with pride and anticipation. The baby moved again and sent a sharp kick towards William’s hands.

William grinned suddenly, putting his hands back down.

“He kicked me,” he said, highly amused. “The little bugger...” Looking at his wife’s face, William saw tears in her eyes. “Are you alright, love?” he asked, putting his arm behind her back. “Does your back hurt?” Michelle shook her head.

“No,” she said, smiling; she touched William’s face with her fingertips. “I’m just very happy.” His smile filled her with warmth; he wrapped his arms around her securely and they watched the rain drip down the window for awhile.

“Lord of the castle...” Michelle said, finally. “I have a boon to seek of you.” William chuckled; it felt so good to have her leaning back in his arms. Serenity ruled, here, in their den. His wife’s choice of fancy words led him to believe she wanted to discuss something important, but was making light of it.

“Ask away my lady,” he said, quietly. “I am in a benevolent mood.”

Michelle laughed softly at this words; her expression sobered a little.

“Do you always want to live here, in America?” she asked.

A little surprised by the question, William was even more surprised by the coincidence. He’d been brooding over that a lot lately, though more informally.

“Not especially,” he admitted. “I am an Englishman; I do want to move back there again one day. Work isn’t an issue; your uncle has three offices in England now, two in London. I’m sure I could transfer to one of them, if they’ll have me. We could stay in mother’s townhouse until we found our own place.” Michelle was quiet for a moment.

“Do you want our son to be British as well?” she said, turning a little to face her man. Their eyes met in the gathering dark. William saw nothing but curiosity and understanding in her expression; he felt confident to continue spilling his thoughts to her.

“I do,” he said. “I admit I’ve been thinking about all that for some time, but I didn’t want to upset you with the idea.”

To his surprise, Michelle began laughing; her laughter was soft, but it puzzled William to no extent.

“Upset me?” she said, between giggles. “You wait until I’m only a month away from having the baby to say this? Our son would have to be born in England to be British, silly. If he’s born here, he’ll...”

“... automatically be American,” William finished for her, staring blankly at the window. He massaged his forehead. “Bloody hell... I didn’t even think of that.” he said, after awhile. He felt Michelle’s fingertips on his face and looked down at her.

“I don’t mind,” she said; her smile spoke of acceptance. “I’ll go with you. I just want to be wherever you are, William Montgomery.” The smile that overtook William’s face told Michelle everything she needed to know.

“Oh, love...” William said, his hold on her tightening, “If you want to stay here, we’ll stay. I must admit, though, I’d love to move back home and have the baby there. And the other babies.” Michelle kissed his face, letting her eyes linger over his features.

“My home is with you,” she said; her soft words were spoken as a promise. William thought he’d never loved her more.

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

 

 

 

Alone in his new wood shop, William stood by the worktable. In front of him rested a small, wooden rocking-horse on top of newspapers. The light-colored wood was yet unfinished, sanded down to a completely smooth surface. Using long, steady strokes, the craftsman carefully brushed on a deep red-brown stain to the smooth, curving surface. The intense look of concentration on William’s brow was offset by the fond, sentiment in his eyes. Setting the brush down on the can of stain, he stood for a moment, just looking at the little toy; his son’s toy. Soon, there would be a little ripper running around his home. William smiled, absently wiping his hands on a nearby cloth.

“Deep thoughts there, my dear sir,” came a soft voice behind him.

William grinned, looking over his shoulder. Michelle stood behind him at the base of the stair, appraising him with her strangely beautiful eyes; she held a plate covered by a clean cloth. The not-so-subtle scent of hot gingerbread met his nostrils.

“Indeed,” he said, wiping off his hands. “What have you there?” Michelle looked down at the plate in her hands.

“Oh this? It’s nothing. Nothing at all,” she said, trying hard not to smile. William raised an eyebrow at his wife.

“Hand it over and no one will get hurt...” he said, stepping closer. Michelle laughed softly and gave him the gingerbread. William confiscated the plate, triumphantly biting into the spicy treat. “Good heavens, Michelle,” he said, licking the crumbs off his lips, “I’m going to get horribly fat.” His ladylove smiled.

“You’d still look gorgeous,” she said, her eyes sparkling with an inward joy. “If you’re worried about it, you could get one of those little lap-pools... you know, the kind that re-circulate the water for swimming laps. My uncle told me once that’s how he stays out of the ‘obese’ category.”

“Not a bad idea,” William said, wiping his mouth with the cloth. “It’s a bit cold and rainy here for running.” He looked down at the empty plate a little sadly. “That was excellent, love. I’ve half a mind to go inspect the rest of this delicious baked good, just to see if it’s up to par.”

“Already hid it,” Michelle returned, tilting her head a little to one side. Her smile “After dinner I’ll draw a map for you.” William chuckled, giving her back the plate.

“Temptress,” he said, fondly. He turned to his worktable. “I just have to finish this coat and put on the urethane.”

Michelle hovered by his side; the sight of the little rocking-horse made her eyes shine.

“He’ll love it,” she said, winding her hands around William’s arm. “You have such a gift, my love.” Her husband dropped a kiss on the top of Michelle’s head.

“Thank you sweetheart,” he said. “You know, we still haven’t settled on a name.”

“I know,” Michelle replied. “We’re terrible parents.”

“I think my mother’s still holding out for ‘Lawrence’,” William put in, taking up his brush again. Michelle made a face.

“I don’t mean to be rude but... no,” she said, quietly.

Glancing at his wife’s face William chuckled.

“Maybe we can discuss it more in a bit, love,” he said, smiling. “I want to finish this, but I don’t want you breathing in these fumes.” Michelle sighed, pretending to pout.

“Ok…” she said, heading towards the stairs. “Don’t work too hard, sir. I’ll just go eat up the rest of the gingerbread myself.” She was halfway up the stairs before William turned around.

“Minx!” William called up after her. Michelle smiled as she climbed the steps.

The stairway door opened up into her kitchen. Looking around, Michelle saw the last two boxes of utensils to unpack. They’d picked a very family friendly building on the north-east corner of Hyde Park to live in; as Michelle found out, it was in a section of London called Mayfair. It was a four bedroom apartment but it felt like a home, even more than William’s old apartment. The sale of William’s two town-homes in Manhattan allowed them to purchase this apartment; the place seemed expensive to Michelle, but William was adamant. He wanted a home close to the park where he’d played as a boy. Michelle had to admit it was very comfortable and spacious. The rooms were bright and airy, with high ceilings; the walls were painted a light cream-color, with blazing white molding and cherry-hued wood floors. The apartment boasted a long, windowed living room; the Realtor called it a ‘reception room’, much to Michelle’s amusement.

The kitchen was medium sized with plenty of counter-space, though they had been ordering in quite often lately so that Michelle would not have to cook at night; she’d been going to bed early almost every night. Sighing, Michelle rubbed her back briefly before resuming her work; she spent a half hour putting away plastic food containers carefully into an empty drawer. Every day for the last month, Michelle awoke with an indescribably strong desire to do something, to clean something or organize something. As strangely compulsive the feeling, Michelle abandoned herself to it. As a result, the new apartment closets were all perfectly neat and organized, which William seemed to like. He thought she went a bit far vacuuming up all the sawdust in his workshop and banished her and her cleaning supplies upstairs. Margaret told her it was ‘nesting’; apparently all pregnant women felt it. The energy certainly helped to work off the extra food she’d been consuming.

BOOK: Draw Me A Picture
7.35Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Singapore Wink by Ross Thomas
Secrets and Lies (Cassie Scot) by Amsden, Christine
Tangled Web by Jade C. Jamison
Tag Against Time by Helen Hughes Vick
Jealousy by Jenna Galicki
An Heiress in Venice by Tara Crescent
Beauty and the Beast by Deatri King-Bey