She grabbed her favorite pair of jeans off the bed and Royce sat on the edge of it, leering at her as she stripped down to her red lace underwear. She gazed into his eyes and then turned her back to him to step into her jeans, pulling them slowly over her hips. She sauntered over to him while pulling off her shirt to reveal a matching red lace bra. Leaning over him she reached for the periwinkle sweater on the bed. His eyes devoured her body as she slipped the sweater slowly over her head. Just a little adjustment and it clung to her, slightly off the shoulder. She stood between his legs and wrapped her arms around his neck. He reciprocated with his arms around her back, rubbing his hands provocatively across her bottom.
“I’m going to miss my bed. It’s so comfortable and molds perfectly to my body.” She leaned down to kiss Royce softly.
He bounced up and down on it. “It feels good,” he said with a wicked grin. “We’ll have to give it a whirl tonight to decide which bed to keep!”
She had to smile back at him, “Another science experiment?”
“Oh, yes,” Royce said. “I’m quite fond of science experiments these days.”
She chuckled and turned to her closet to fish out a pair of shoes.
“Nice picture.” She looked up to find him holding the frame off her bedside table with their group of friends on Lady Lavender. “How long has this been here?”
“Since the day I moved in,” Madalyn said, searching his eyes. “I couldn’t let you go, Royce, even when I had thought you had let me go.”
“Me too,” he whispered. “The picture of us from the cruise has been on my side table since I arrived home. I bought it on my way to get you breakfast, certain you’d want to continue our relationship, but knowing you were from Chicago. I needed something to keep you close to me while we were apart.”
Madalyn crawled onto his lap, facing him with her legs wrapped around him. “Why did you keep it, baby? You were so angry with me that first time I saw you!”
“I was pissed off!” he said. “It isn’t often that my instincts are so far off base. But it didn’t change the fact that I loved you. How many times did I stare at it, arguing with myself about whether or not I should reach out to you?”
“Why didn’t you?” she asked softly.
“Pride?” He shrugged his shoulders. “I was devastated and angry at myself that I hadn’t broached the topic of continuing our relationship earlier with you. Maybe I was afraid of being rejected twice?”
“Hush,” she said, touching his lips with hers. “It doesn’t matter now.” She rubbed his cheek and gave him a full body hug. He smiled and fell back onto her bed, pulling her with him. They kissed and fondled and rolled around for a while, just happy to be with each other.
“Time to face the music,” Royce said, finally getting to his feet and holding out his hand to her.
“Literally and figuratively!” she said, grinning at him. “Have you decided on which theme song you’d like to sing?”
“Not yet. Any advice for me?”
“Stay away from The Big Bang Theory,” Madalyn warned. “It doesn’t sit well with my uber-Catholic dad! That is unless you’re looking to have a heated debate during your first meeting?”
• • •
Madalyn turned off Woodward Avenue onto West Lincoln for a few blocks and then turned onto S. West Street, stopping in front of her parents’ house. She studied her childhood home and smiled softly. It looked exactly as when she had lived there, except for the fresh coat of pale yellow paint, and a bright red door. Looking at the home, one would never guess that it was built in 1907. It was sturdy and well maintained. The small yard and simple landscaping were easy to care for in the summer months. But the best feature of the home was the location. It was situated a few blocks away from downtown Royal Oak and the family bakery. It was wonderful for her parents to be able to walk to work each day. If only Madalyn could be so lucky.
“Well,” Madalyn sighed and glanced over at Royce. “This is it!”
“Are we all going to fit in there?” Royce asked with furrowed brows. He didn’t even attempt to hide his skepticism.
Madalyn slapped his thigh and giggled. “Yes, Mr. I-need-over-two-thousand-square-feet-all-to-myself! You’ll have to slum it tonight. The layout is wide-open. You won’t believe it is only 1,500 square feet. Come on. Let’s go inside.”
Royce opened her car door and held her hand, walking to the front door. He had purchased a bottle of white wine on Madalyn’s advice. He wanted to make a good impression. She tapped on the door lightly, then opened it and strode into the small foyer, calling out to her parents.
“Hello? Mom, Dad, we’re here,” she said and pulled Royce in behind her. She inhaled deeply. The mouth-watering scent of beef stroganoff simmering in a pan hung in the air. Her mother had been listening when she’d mentioned the dish was Royce’s favorite. Perhaps she had missed the part where Madalyn said “his mother’s” beef stroganoff. Oh well, a little friendly competition between mothers never hurt anyone. This was going to be interesting.
“It smells good in here.” Royce scanned the room while they waited for Madalyn’s parents. The front half of the house was one large open space—a living room to the left and a dining room to the right, which sat adjacent to the kitchen, separated only by a large island. The hardwood floors united the rooms and provided overall warmth while two area rugs in similar color palettes, but varying patterns, provided definition to each living space.
Mr. and Mrs. Russell finally appeared from a hallway that led back to the three bedrooms and two bathrooms. They rushed to greet Madalyn and Royce with broad smiles.
“Mom, Dad, this is Royce,” Madalyn said, beaming at him. “Royce, this is my mother, Margaret and my father, Robert.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you both,” Royce said, smiling and handing the bottle of wine to Mrs. Russell. “I hope you like Chardonnay. You have a beautiful home.”
“How thoughtful,” she simpered and welcomed his hand in hers for a warm shake. “Please call me Marg.”
“Please call me Bob,” her Dad said, sizing Royce up as he shook his hand firmly. “Come in, come in. No need to hover at the door. Let’s pop open that wine and have a taste! Make yourselves comfortable while we get some glasses. Your sister called. She’ll be here in a few minutes.”
Madalyn sat on one of the two beige couches laid out in a simple L shape with a glass side table separating them at the corner. Red throw pillows with hints of taupe and beige geometric accents brought a splash of color to the room and played well off of the dark walls. Royce snuggled in close next to Madalyn on the couch and casually observed his surroundings.
“The built-in bookshelves are nice,” he said and squeezed Madalyn’s knee. “The white shelves against the dark walls are stunning and open up the space. I see what you mean about the layout. Who would’ve thought you could fit two couches and two side chairs along with a dining room set in here?”
He suddenly jumped up and strode over to pick up a picture from one of the shelves. Madalyn closed her eyes as if in pain. Thirteen-year old Madalyn with glasses and braces was not her best look. Royce chuckled and set the picture down and then walked over to the corner of the room where the piano sat majestically. He ran his finger along the keys and glanced over at Madalyn.
“What happened to the glasses?” he asked while he strolled around the room, looking at pictures.
“Lasik,” she said and turned to stand when the doorbell rang. “You’ve got to love the magic of modern medicine.” She walked over to answer the door. “It must be your family. Jeanine would let herself in.”
Royce joined her as she opened the door and engulfed his mother in a warm embrace. Mrs. Spencer shared the same jet-black hair and emerald green eyes. The straight nose and full lips also came from the maternal line. But the similarities ended there. Where Royce was tall with a thick build, she was short and petite. How had she ever given birth to this man? Standing at her heels was a man just shy of six feet tall wi
th dark brown hair and eyes. Except for the shape of his nose and lips, Madalyn would never have guessed the man was related to Royce. Mark must take after his father.
“Mom,” Royce said and then turned to his brother. “Mark, this is Madalyn. Madalyn, this is my mother, Rebecca, and my brother Mark.”
Madalyn vigorously shook each of their hands and thanked them for joining the festivities on such short notice.
“I’m sorry Madison wasn’t able to join us,” Madalyn said. “I look forward to meeting her soon.”
“She was disappointed,” Mark said and then punched Royce in the arm. “Madison can’t believe her old uncle has finally found a woman. She said she had lost hope years ago. Can you believe it?”
“She’s a sassy one.” Royce shook his head and smiled. “You’re going to have your hands full in a year or two.”
Mark blanched. “Please! She’s only ten. Give me at least four or five more years of my sweet little girl.”
Madalyn’s parents arrived with the wine glasses and bottle of Chardonnay.
Mrs. Russell smiled at Mark and shook her head. “Take it from a mother of three girls. You have two or three years … tops! Girls grow up faster than boys.”
Mark groaned as if in pain and everyone laughed.
Mrs. Russell ushered them into the living room area and encouraged everyone to sit and relax. Royce made the formal introductions and insisted on helping Mrs. Russell hand out the glasses of wine.
Jeanine suddenly burst through the door with a flourish, her hair in its usual state of spiky disarray and her cheeks flushed with excitement. If Madalyn didn’t know any better, she would have guessed Jeanine had been thoroughly kissed moments before entering the house. Craig was not far behind, ready to present a stunning floral arrangement to Mrs. Russell.
Jeanine looked to be in very high spirits. Madalyn stole a peek at her father and caught the momentary shock on his face before he schooled his features into bland curiosity. It was just as she had feared; Jeanine had not mentioned to her folks that Craig was African-American. Madalyn gave Royce a smirk and slight elbow to the ribs. He was a mastermind. Talk about deflecting pressure off them and onto Jeanine. Long hours spent at the bakery didn’t afford her parents much time for friends or entertaining. And they certainly didn’t have any ethnic friends. She knew her dad would be a gracious host and come around in the end. It was just a different generation.
Jeanine wisely rushed into the kitchen to find a vase for the flowers, allowing her mother to remain in the living room with her guests and effectively avoiding the evil eye that would certainly be cast upon her. Madalyn excused herself to go find wine glass charms, making a beeline for the kitchen and her sister.
“What were you thinking?” she hissed at Jeanine as she rummaged through the kitchen drawers in search of the wine glass charms.
“What are you talking about?” Jeanine asked, feigning ignorance, as she filled a vase with water.
“You know exactly what I’m talking about!” Madalyn replied in a low tone.
“Oh, grow up,” Jeanine said, throwing her a disgruntled look. “Why let Dad stew over the information all night and get wound up for nothing? You know and I know that once the initial shock is over, he will be fine. Look at him, he’s already conversing well with Craig and I’m sure he’ll be a huge fan after tonight. Craig has wonderful ideas for the bakery and his dishes are delicious!”
Madalyn stared at her father from across the room and admitted that Jeanine was right. As always. She made herself useful and turned the burner on underneath the large pot of water intended for the noodles. She was starving and the rich smell of the stroganoff made her anxious to eat.
“So what’s the story between the two of you?” Madalyn casually asked her sister. “If I didn’t know better, I would’ve said you had been thoroughly kissed before you rushed into the house.”
Jeanine’s head popped up at that comment and a deep red flush crept over her cheeks. “Craig is more than just a wonderful chef,” she said in hushed tones. “I know I shouldn’t get involved with an employee, but I can’t resist him. His love for cooking rivals mine. It feels wonderful to share my passion for all things created in a kitchen with him.”
Madalyn smiled lovingly at her sister. It was lovely to see Jeanine so giddy. She deserved to be happy and everything looked like it was coming together for her. When Jeanine was finished arranging the flowers, she placed them in the center of the kitchen island then walked hand in hand with Madalyn back to the living room, just like the olden days.
• • •
Mrs. Spencer sat back in her chair and stared down at her empty plate. “Dinner was magnificent!” she announced to Mrs. Russell. “You’ll have to share your recipe with me Marg. I‘ve always prided myself that my beef stroganoff was the best, but there is something in your dish I can’t quite put my finger on which sets it slightly apart, something that gives it a rich, complex flavor. I love it!”
Mrs. Russell glowed from the compliment. “I’d be happy to share it. I use filet mignon and a hint of heavy cream. I like to call it the rich man’s beef stroganoff,” she said, chuckling.
“It would make a great addition to the comfort food lunch menu at the bakery,” Craig said. “That is if we can get the pricing right.” Jeanine’s eyes lit up and she nodded in agreement.
“Well whatever your secret is,” Mark said, looking over to Mrs. Russell, “it’s the best stroganoff I’ve ever tasted, truly second to none.” Madalyn stared at Mark from across the table and felt offended on his mother’s behalf. Why would he openly snub his mother’s cooking with her sitting right next to him? What a jerk move! Madalyn shifted uncomfortably in her seat and glanced over at Royce.
“Delicious,” Royce chimed in. He smiled over at Mrs. Russell. “However, if I may say so, I think both dishes have a time and place depending on the event, making each equally delightful.”
Mrs. Spencer gazed at Royce with a gentle smile on her face. “Well said Royce, especially for someone who was such a hell raiser when he was a little boy!”
“Is that so?” Madalyn laughed, happy to see that Mrs. Spencer had a playful side too, effectively diffusing the tense situation. Madalyn turned to Royce to observe his reaction. It was a rare pleasure to see him blush. She grabbed for his hand under the table and squeezed it in hers. “I’d love to hear more!”
Royce silently implored his mother not to cave, but she simply ignored him. He took a deep, calming breath, and then propped his elbows against the table, leaning his chin against his hands.
“When Royce was about 5 years old we used to live in a colonial house in Novi,” his mother said. “Royce loved to play with sparklers on the Fourth of July. I didn’t want him to, but his father overruled me. He said Royce was a big boy and could handle it. Royce would light one sparkler up with the matches and then use the sparkler to set off another three at a time in his hand. It scared me to death!”
Mrs. Spencer shuddered at the memory then sat back in her chair and took a sip of wine before continuing. “I was keeping track of him out of the corner of my eye while talking to his father about our next vacation, when all of a sudden a yew bush standing at the far corner of our garage went up in flames with thick black smoke billowing ten feet in the air.”
Madalyn gasped and threw her hand over her mouth. She turned to Royce with wide eyes. Was this true? A genuine smile appeared on his lips and his shoulders bounced with his suppressed laughter. Madalyn’s father chuckled and shook his head. He looked happy to have had only three girls. Madalyn turned back to Mrs. Spencer. She was all ears.
“His father rushed to the side of the house and turned on the water, hosing down the bush in a matter of a few minutes. We were fortunate that our house was made of brick or it would surely have gone up in flames.”
“Royce was always showing off one way or other when he was a boy,” Mark said. “What am I saying? He still does!”
Madalyn narrowed her eyes at Mark and st
ruggled to bite back the harsh words that threatened to escape in Royce’s defense. She decided for humor instead to lighten the mood. Madalyn turned to Royce and slapped him on the knee. “You were a very bad boy!”
“Now there’s the kettle calling the pot black!” Mr. Russell called out, raising a brow to Madalyn.
Royce perked up and turned to Mr. Russell, “Is that so?” Then turning to Madalyn with raised brow, “I can’t wait to hear how Madalyn was a very bad girl!”
“Daddy,” Madalyn said with wide imploring eyes. “Please don’t. Not the story about … ”
“Now, now, Maddie,” he said with a twinkle in his eyes. “It’s a cute story and will only take a minute. It’s only fair to share a story about you after what we just heard.”
Madalyn buried her face in her hands. She knew exactly which story he had in mind. He always took pleasure in reciting it whenever an opportunity presented itself. Royce was never going to let her hear the end of this.
“When Maddie was a little girl,” her father started, turning to Mrs. Russell with a knowing smile on his face, “probably around the age of five, she loved to watch the movie Grease.”
Royce squeezed Madalyn’s hand under the table and winked at her with a why-am-I-not-surprised-to-hear-this look on his face. Mrs. Spencer leaned in to the table, listening intently. It must be interesting for her to contrast stories of little girls with that of her two boys.
“So one Sunday afternoon her cousins were here visiting,” Mr. Russell said, “and we popped Grease into the TV to keep the kids entertained while the adults enjoyed some beverages around the kitchen table.”
Royce turned a curious gaze at Madalyn, unsure where the story was headed. She buried her face in his shoulder. He would know soon enough. Royce chuckled at her embarrassment.
“About an hour into the show we heard one of the boys yelling ‘Get off me! Get off me!’ We thought for sure the two boy cousins had gotten into a fight so I jumped up from the table, ready to break it up.” Madalyn peeked up at her father and he gave her a beautiful smile. At least he received pleasure from reciting the tale. “But what did I find? My little Maddie had pinned poor David to the ground and was kissing him all over his face! Well that was the last time we let her watch Grease for a while. We learned our lesson as parents.”
Little White Lies Page 21