by Milly Taiden
“Say something Love,” he says. I shake my head and sit back on my heels. If I can't run that means he has to go. I don't have the strength to ask him to leave.
My hands are resting on my thighs and the only thing I can see is how big I am. It only takes a few seconds for the wave of sorrow to wash away all the self confidence my belief in Alex's love had given me. I don't have anything to say. If it's over, it's over. I'm not going to make a spectacle of myself.
I barely hear him when he says, “I love you. I think I'll always love you. You're the sweetest woman I know and I don't want anybody else but you. ” The words reach my brain and they're not making any sense. I look up to his face. I don't understand. How could what we have be wrong if he feels that way about me? He must read the question in my eyes because he tells me, “It's this domestic life I can't deal with. ”
I hear the explanation he's giving me but I don't believe him. It's not even been a couple of months since he's moved here. We've both been so active that there has been no time to create a boring routine. I understand the fear of the wear and tear of a relationship. I get it. Really I do. I know that the magic of the beginning eventually fades with the passion. I've always been a people watcher so I know this happens. I have no illusions. Curiously it seems that living with a wicked witch prevented me from believing in fairy tales. Unlike regular teenagers, I know happy-ever-afters are few and far between. But I believed we would have one because we were not ordinary people, because our love was deeper than most.
I can’t understand what the issue is. We're living very privileged lives. We both do something we love, we're both becoming successful at it and there's been no money issue. Just as Oliver and Andrew do, I pay my share of the maintenance and utilities to Ten and I've never asked Alex for a penny. There's no drudgery. How could he possibly be unable to deal with our domestic life?
The only explanation is that he's having second thoughts about us having another child. He's scared of committing to me. He’s scared by the responsibility of being a father. I just wish he would tell me the truth instead of taking the coward's way out and making up this stupid excuse. He gets up from the bed and I think he's going to leave but instead he goes to the door to lock it shut, takes his clothes off and then comes back on the bed next to me stark naked and obviously aroused. I want him so badly the idea of pushing him away barely registers in a far back corner of my mind. I know I should but it seems like the most absurd thing I could do right now. If this is our last time together I will take it and make the best of it. I'm pitiful.
Tonight I have back in my bed the Alexander of the first night. He's trying really so hard to please me as if he wanted to spoil it for anybody after him. He's tender and delicate and so loving that his caresses are almost painful. There's not a single part of my body he doesn't explore and bring to life. Every cell tingles and catches on fire under his touch.
He doesn't only take care of my body magnificently making up a hundred times for his return debacle, he messes with my brain as well by saying all the right things. All the words that I want to hear pass through his lips. He tells me how much he loves me. He swears he can't imagine how empty his life would be without me. He whispers that I have this magical power over him, that when I look at him I give him incredible strength and that it’s only because I love him that he feels he can conquer the world. His words and his touch make me soar like I never soared before. I rise to heaven again and again and when I think I'm done and sated he lifts me up one more time and I let him. I don't ever want this night to end but at some point I can't keep my eyes open and I fall asleep in his arms holding on to him for dear life.
A few hours later, I open my eyes. His guitar case is no longer tucked away behind the door. He's gone. On the nightstand there's a tiny blue square box and an envelope. A parting present? A goodbye note? I don't want to open them. I push them in the top drawer of my nightstand and slam it shut.
I want to go back to sleep and believe, he's just gone out of town for a gig and he'll be back tomorrow. I roll to his side of the bed and bury my head in the pillow that smells like him. He said I was his harbor, if he really meant it he'll have to come back to me, won't he?
***
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“What's wrong with this picture?” Marc asks me as he's paying the check for the meal we barely touched. I know this is a test. If I pass, Marc is going to let me tackle my first take over. I'll be one of the new managers at Marc Martin Restaurant Extraordinaire, Inc.
“What do you want me to start with?” I ask.
He shrugs, “It's your show Lyv. ”
Okay, it's sink or swim time. I warm up by stating the very obvious about the restaurant we just had a very unimpressive meal in. “First there's the location. This place is smack in the center of a very busy part of town. There's a great potential for lunch and happy hour. I'm not sure about dinner. ”
Marc nods and I feel a little more comfortable when I go on. This is my world. I know how it works.
“Second there's the decor. It stinks. It's horrible. I understand not every one shares my taste for bright and airy and that dark, intimate does have some charm but this is like a funeral home. ”
Marc chuckles. He obviously agrees.
I continue. “Without even turning bright lights on I can tell that the place should not pass sanitary inspection. Everything if filthy. ” I show him the color of my napkin. I used it to wipe the fold between the seat and the back cushion in our booth and you can tell no one's thought of cleaning it in like . . . for ever. Marc makes a face and shows me his napkin. He's done the same on his side of the booth and it's just as revolting.
I go on about the staff. “They're very obnoxious, actually they match the food. It's obnoxious too. ” Marc raises an eyebrow. I defend my choice of word. “Yes, food can be obnoxious when the presentation on the plate is a lot more interesting than the flavor of the content. ” That gets a half smile out my boss. I go on for a while more and there's no doubt in my mind the only thing this place has going for it is its location.
I stop and look at Marc expectantly. He shakes his head and asks, “So you like the place we saw yesterday better?”
“No doubt in my mind, the other one requires only minor work. It could be done in less than two months. There’s just some rethinking of the decor and maybe some retraining of the staff. I think it has a lot going for it and I sure can’t understand why they went under. ”
“I’m glad you feel that way because I purchased it this morning and you're starting the renovation on Monday. Of course you need to finish the renovation and start it running before your due date. Do you think you can do that?”
I swallow my emotions and say, “Yes, Marc. Thank you. I won't let you down. ” At the same time I cradle my tummy with my hands and send a silent prayer to my baby. Honey, don't you even consider coming early.
I can’t believe I am so lucky. Not only did Marc agree to give me chance when I was so very young but he’s kept promoting me and never batted an eye when I told him I was expecting. The most amazing thing is that for sentimental reasons, his corporation is subject to French law and that he’s applying French law rules to his American employees.
For most of those I work with, the down side of this is that we get paid monthly instead of weekly. I never had a pay check before he hired me so I don’t see what the big deal about this monthly pay is, but it seems it takes some getting used to for a lot of people who were used to get their money at the end of each week.
But no one really complains too much because we also have a health plan, three weeks paid vacation, and the cherry on my cake, a month fully paid maternity leave. You’ve gotta love the French and their protective laws!
I decline Marc's offer to drop me home. It will do me good to walk a few blocks before I get to the apartment and crash. Ten wants to take me out to go celebrate my 18th birthday but I'm too tired I would rather stay home with my boys. I can't believe that I'm only nine
teen. Nineteen and pregnant again. Sounds like the title of those horrible novellas they gave away at Sunday school to make us fear temptation. Well I got tempted and I sinned and I'm not repentant.
I haven't heard from Alex in many months. I have made Andrew promise that he wouldn't tell him about the pregnancy. Ten drove the point home by telling him that if he lets it slip, he's out in the street. Since there's no way our favorite police officer could find such nice accommodations for the price he's paying, his family loyalty is no longer a top priority. There's more than one way to understand that charity really begins at home.
It takes me forever to get back and when I finally do, I'm greeted by the most delicious smell. This is great since I barely touched what was served in that restaurant from hell. If the restaurant’s dining room is dirty, chances are the kitchen is not very clean either.
I kick of my shoes and tiptoe barefoot in the kitchen. Oliver and Ten are cooking. Oliver's latest conquest is sitting on the counter top with a glass of wine in her hand giving them instruction on how to destroy the lumps of their gravy. Wow, they're making gravy? I have this sudden craving for a mashed potato volcano with a spoonful of gravy lava. What's wrong with me? I use to have sexual fantasies, now I have food cravings. I'm eighteen pushing sixty.
Three pairs of eyes turn to me as I step in and Ten asks, “So?”
I pull from behind my back the bottle of Champagne that I purchased on the way home and say, “Yes! I got the promotion. You are now talking to the new Marc Martin Restaurant Extraordinaire property manager and,” I pause for effect, “I got a new property to put in shipshape before mid November. ”
They all cheer loudly and Ten says, “Congratulations, Lovey. ”
Oliver takes the handle of the saucepan from Ten's hand and starts giving a serious beating to the mixture. I think it works. The lumps are so intimidated by his natural authority that they vanish. Ten applauds in awe of such culinary talent and Babe scoots down from the counter to go stand very close behind Oliver. She slides her hands into his front pockets and I look away. I know precisely what she's doing and it's not fishing for spare change. I hope she doesn't get Oliver so distracted that he'll let the gravy burn.
Ten bends over to speak to my belly, “Now baby, you're gonna be real good and you're gonna stay put till the due date. ”
As the two of us, well three I guess if I count baby, get out of the kitchen. I laugh and ask, “How do you like being a father figure?”
He grins. “I can't wait and that's something I want to talk to you about. ”
“Can we talk in my room, I’d like to put my feet up?”
“Sure. I'll be with you in a minute. ”
I plop on my bed with my butt on one pillow and my feet high on the headboard. I close my eyes and start to devise a battle plan in my head for the work that's to start Monday on the new place. I've been first assistant for renovation on the past three projects. I should be able to make it work. In a perfect world I should be able to reopen during the first week of November so I'll shoot for that and give myself two weeks of wiggle room. I would really like a few days to rest before I'm due.
Ten walks into my room, laughs at my position and sits down next to me, his butt on the other pillow and his back to the headboard so we look at one other.
“This is not how I had planned to do this but I guess I'll have to rough it,” he jokes. “Lyv Wild,” he says. I'm startled. He never calls me anything other than Lovey. This must be serious. “Will you marry me?”
He presents to me a little jewelry box. Inside there's an exquisite ring with a blue stone encased between two small diamonds. I recognize the ring, Ten's grandmother used to wear it. I'm so stunned, I don't know what to say. I bring my legs down on the bed and kind of kneel in front of him. I look at the ring again and then at his face and try to make sense of what I've just heard.
“Lovey, it's not some crazy idea that just crossed my mind,” he explains. “I've been toying with it for a while. Actually it was Granny who planted the seed. ”
“Granny?” The woman's been dead for ages.
“Yep, when I started fooling around with girls and brought them home to make my father and grandfather happy, she asked me what I was doing. First I wondered if she thought I was favoring men and was wondering why I was not coming out. Still I was not sure it was what she meant. She was a liberal and all, she did have a couple of gay acquaintances like her hair dresser and the decorator she hired to furnish the model homes when she was in charge of sales of the Clark homes, but I could not believe she would be okay with a bisexual grandson. Anyway, just to make sure, I asked her,” he smiles sweetly as he remembers the conversation.
“She said that she did not understand why I was fooling around when I had already found you. According to her, you were the perfect girl for me. She said that she understood that maybe I was not in love with you and that I loved you as a friend but according to her that was perfect. She said a marriage based on trust and friendship would actually be more solid and last longer than one initially based on passion. ”
I have fond memories of the old lady and I knew she liked me but I had no idea she thought so highly of me. “I have to think about this,” I say.
“Fair enough. ”
I bounce the idea of being Mrs. Clark around my head. It springs one major question. “What kind of marriage are we talking about?”
Ten understands what I'm asking perfectly. “A real one, Lovey. If you'll let me, I will start by being the father to this little one,” he gently puts a hand on my belly, “and then, in a few years, when you're ready, I would like for us to have more. ”
He slides down to take me in his arms and continues, “You’ll move to my bedroom and we'll convert this one into a nursery. We can get an au pair to take care of the baby when you go to work and then we could ask Andrew to move out to make a room for the next baby and then again, when Oliver graduates, we'll have another room for yet another baby. ” Ten's given this a lot of thought and already has it all planned while I'm still grasping at straws trying to look at my best friend in this new light.
“Of course, if the good doctor doesn’t finally get settled with someone, we’ll have to make sure he doesn’t bother the au pair girls…” he jokes.
“So we’ll be lovers?” I ask. I know it’s silly because if we don’t there won’t be any babies but I still need to ask.
“We will,” he says and adds, “I’ll have to figure out how to do it right for you. ”
“That's silly,” I say punching him lightly, “you've been with girls before. ”
“Yes but I didn't really care for their needs at all. I was very selfish in bed,” I gasp. My heart goes out to those poor girls.
“I don't want to do that with you. I want to make you happy. I want to hear you moan and scream louder than you did it with Xander when he lived with us. ”
I'm turning red. Was I really that loud that all the guys listened in? I guess I was. “What about men?”
“What do you mean?”
“At some point you’ll probably want a man again, don't you think?” I say.
“Probably but if you can resist Xander when he comes back, I should be able to resist men. ”
“He won't be coming back,” I protest.
“Oh yes he will. ” Ten makes it sound like it's a done deal, like Alexander's return is as certain as the return of the tides or the seasons. “In his own twisted way he does love you, you know. The second he hears that you've agreed to marry me and that you are sleeping in my bed, he'll come running back for you. ”
He may have a point. Little boys can be very possessive about their toys. Even those they no longer wish to play with. Because the toy's been discarded doesn’t mean that someone else can play with it.
“Mark my words. Your turning him away will make him even crazier about you. It may be hard on you,” Ten says. Yes it will. Just thinking about Alexander hurts.
“I’m the best man for you, Lov
ey. We’ve been a pair for the longest time. You know that you can rely on me and that I will never let you down. You know I love you. I’ll be a good father for our children and that includes Eve if we ever find her. ”
I think about it and try to look at Ten in this new light he’s casting on himself. “If I marry you,” I say, “we'll have to be brutally honest with one another. No lying, no cheating. If I commit to you I will never go back on my word but I will ask the same of you. If it ever becomes too hard for you, I want you to tell me before you stumble so we can work it out or set each other free. ”
“So you'll think about it?”
“Yes I will. You need to give me some time to get used to the idea. I’ll tell you in November, after my opening night. Is that okay for you?”
“Sure. Will you let me cheat a little to help you warm up to the concept?” he asks sheepishly.
“What do you mean?”
“Will you let me kiss you?”
“Why would that be cheating?” I ask amused.
“Because I've been told I'm an amazing kisser. ”
He's grinning and I can't help but laugh. “I don’t know about kissing yet,” I say “but I already know you're going to be an amazing lawyer. You just sold me on the kissing. Now I'm dying to know what I've been missing out on all those years. ”
Ten leans me back on the bed and finds a comfortable position next to me. He adjusts his long frame around my round belly and when his lips get close to mine I close my eyes. The entire concept of Ten kissing me like a lover is so foreign it's mind boggling.