Guilty Pleasures (51 page)

Serge loaded steaming stacks of blueberry pancakes and their oozing syrup onto plates and threw them at Lance. “See if the little savages take a little longer on these! I’m fucking tired!”

Lance noted the children’s evil little eyes glazing, and their vicious jaws masticating at a slower rate. He could tell they were nearly finished. One last effort and the little monsters were nodding over crumbs. The parents herded them out, Rosette staying behind to wring Millie’s hand with heartfelt gratitude.

“Did I say you could book them every day?” Serge moaned. “Was I wrong! Please, Millie, tell me hamburger night is not a fixed item.”

“Oh yes. From now on, pizza night and hamburger night. We have the Huns every two weeks.”

“Shit!”

“Go on, Serge. It’s nine thirty and we’re off, what more do you want?”

“Yeah, yeah . . . I suppose you two are crawling off to fornicate somewhere.”

“Watch that mouth, mister! Will and I are going out to dinner, like a normal couple. What about you?”

“None of your business.”

They walked out into the unseasonably warm night.

“Listen, Millie, I was wondering, would you mind if we went in for dinner?”

“You want to stay home, Will?”

“Please.”

“Oh, all right, what are you up to?”

“Up? Are you complaining about my being
up
to something, Millicent Deafly?”

Millie giggled and snuggled closer to him. “Not at all, dear sir. Onward home we go!”

Lance packed Millie off to a long leisurely bath and to slip into something slinky, and ran into the kitchen. He set the table, lit tall scented candles and set up a cheese and wine dinner for two—grape juice for Millie—with crusty French bread, glossy black olives, pears, grapes, and a lettuce and cheddar cheese salad with garlic croutons. He fiddled nervously with the napkins, and straightened the glasses one more time.
 

He slipped in a Katie Melua CD, feeling soft, calm, and sexy. It was perfect, just like Millie, soft and flushed from her bath, wearing a long, silky, turquoise Chinese robe and, from what he could tell, nothing else. He pulled her into a slow dance, feeling her warm, naked body move maddeningly under the slippery silk.

“I’ve been wanting you all day. I’ve been wanting to touch you, to kiss you.” He leaned down and buried his face in the soft curve of her neck. “To smell you. To tell you how beautiful you are, and how much I love you.” He slid his hands up to cup her breasts, his thumbs playing over her nipples.
 

She sighed, her head back, offering him her throat, her hands going to the opening at the front of the robe, baring her breasts to his questing mouth.

“Will . . . oh, Will . . . I adore you, but I think you’d better feed me first.”

Lance laughed and spun her up in his arms. “Right away, my lady!”

They sat at the table side by side, touching, kissing, holding hands while they ate. The candlelight gleamed on her rounded cheeks and her pert naked breasts.
 

Lance groaned. “My God, woman, haven’t you had enough? I’m dying here.”

“I can’t help it. I’m really hungry, please pass the bread.”

“Millie, I love you. I’ve never felt so strongly about anyone, ever.”

“Oh, Will, you’re so sweet! Please pass the chèvre.”

“I know you’re afraid, but I also know I can make you happy.”

“You do make me happy, darling Will. Please pass the smoked salmon pâté.”

“What I’m trying to say here is . . .” Lance groped awkwardly in his pocket and pulled out a pretty cloisonné box. “Please marry me.”

Millie hastily swallowed a chunk of the bread and started coughing. “Will . . . I . . . please . . . give me a minute . . .”

She took a large gulp of wine from Lance’s glass and a deep breath. “I wasn’t expecting . . . something so . . . formal!”

Hesitantly she accepted the little box and opened it to expose a beautiful rose-cut diamond in an antique setting. “Oh, Will . . . it’s lovely.”

Lance took the ring and gently slipped it onto her finger. “It was my grandmother’s.”

“I don’t know what to say.”

“
Yes
would be good.”

“Of course . . . of course yes, but . . . not right away? Give me a little time to get used to this, okay?”

“Okay, relax. We’ll get married when you’re ready. You decide when and where and I’ll show up.”

“Wonderful! Just . . . one little thing, darling . . . could you pass the olives?”
 

From the Diary of Millicent Deafly:

Sit down for this! Will proposed, ring and all.
 

It’s the loveliest ring. It was his grandmother’s. He keeps insisting he wants me to meet her.

I said yes, of course, but I also told him to wait a little while. He agreed.
 

I dragged him off to bed and devoured him. Speaking of devouring, I found myself looking at the little Huns with fresh eyes. What if he/she is a holy terror like that bunch?

With Will, Serge, and Hendricks lining up to spoil the child, I can only imagine!

I suppose I’ll have to tell my mother, sooner or later.

Later. Much, much, much later.
 

Maybe when baby goes away to university?

Chapter 42

We now come to a part of the female anatomy of primordial importance to all men.

No,
not
the vagina. I speak of that supreme achievement of mammalian evolution:
the tits
. Let us not, however, refer to them as the
tits
, the
boobs
, the
hooters
, or the
jugs
—at least in feminine company and
never
in an intimate setting. Let’s show a little class here, guys! Say it:
breasts
.

Try using a reverent tone. Shah Jehan had the curve of the dome of the Taj Mahal modelled on his wife’s tit, so let’s try the Holy Grail approach here.

Kneel before these Wonders of the World, and if you’re lucky and skilled, she might let you play with them for
hours
.

—Sensual Secrets of a Sexual Surrogate

Lance nibbled delicately at the curve of Millie’s waist, following it down to the ripe, luscious curve of her hip.
 

She squirmed and giggled. “That tickles! Don’t stop!”

“Good morning, Mum! This is your three o’clock wake-up call!” Lance kissed the soft curve of her belly. “Hello there! Don’t mind me, it’s just Dad.” He kissed farther down, brushing the soft pelt over her pubis with his lips. He gently parted her and slid his tongue up her moist pink flesh to flicker at the rosy nub of her clitoris.
 

Millie gasped, arched her back and pulled him up. “Use your fingers, Will. I want to be kissing you when I come.”

Lance always had been a
very
obedient boy.

An hour later, they were late and in the van, heading for the market to shop for S.’s fundraiser. Millie was looking quite content. They whirled through the now familiar market stops, stocking up for the tea event.
 

At eight, they pulled into Guilty Pleasures, where Serge was already busily baking sponge cakes for layering and various sweet pastries.
 

Millie sniffed hungrily at the still-hot tiny apple pies. She surreptitiously palmed one and started nibbling at the buttery crust. Her mouth was full with the scalding hot filling when her phone rang.
 

Serge lifted his hands up, signalling Millie to pick up the phone.

“ ’Lo!” Millie’s colour altered dramatically. “Yes. Hello, Mother.”

Mrs. Deafly cleared her throat. “Darling, did you hear the news from Josh?”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Oh, you know how he was doing that whole God thing? He is getting ordained—Catholic, can you believe it?”

“Really?”

“Yes . . . in Guatemala!”

“When?”

“In two weeks’ time. I’m calling so you can take time off and come with me.”

“Well, I won’t be going.”

“Whyever not! Your only brother’s got his life together and you won’t take time off to see him ordained?”

“I’m sorry, but flying to some hole in the wall in South America to see my brother take the cloth is not in my immediate plans.”

“Have you no sense of family, of your obligations? You owe me, Millie!”

“I’m very, very aware of my family obligations, which is why I’m not going.”

“You
will
go. You will, Millie! I will not take no for an answer.”

“I’m pregnant, Mother, and I won’t be risking my health for anything, no matter what you say.”

“Pregnant? How? When? Who’s the father?”

“That’s not your business, Mother. I’ll see you next month as usual. Have a nice trip and send Josh my love.”

“Millie—”

“Good-bye!” Millie tapped the phone to cut off the call. She was white faced and thin lipped with rage. “How dare she? She thought I’d just drop everything on her say so?”

“Calm down, Millie dear. She won’t call again for another two weeks, at least, so be cool,” Serge said, consolingly.

“Josh’s lost the needle and found God. She wanted me to go off to Uruguay or Guatemala or wherever with her in two weeks.”

“Well, you’re not going, so calm down.” Lance slipped a comforting arm around her. “Getting riled is not good for you or the baby.”

She hugged him back, hard, and Lance rocked her gently until he felt her muscles relax.
 

“All right, boys, I’m back, so let’s get back to work.”

“Right on, Millie baby.” Serge grinned, relieved. “Take a look at this menu, and tell me what you think.”

“I will, Serge, but first I think I have to go throw up.”