by S. E. Lund
"This is our first real date since Sophie was born," Drake said, meeting my eyes in the mirror. "I wish we could go to The Russian Tea Room first, but maybe after, we can stop and get some blini and drink some Anisovaya."
"Maybe," I said and put on my diamond earrings and diamond choker. "I don't want to be out too late. We don't want to take advantage of Karen.
"She said she'd be happy to stay until midnight, so we'll have time."
I nodded and watched as Drake ran a comb through his hair and smoothed an errant wave. He turned to me and smiled.
"How do I look?" He held out his arms and turned in a circle.
I laughed. "You look mahvellous, dahling. Mahvellous."
He came up to me from behind and put his arms around my waist.
"You look good enough to eat," he said, murmuring against the skin of my neck. "In fact, I think I will eat you when we come back and once Sophie's back to sleep after you feed her."
I smiled and tried to finish fixing my hair, but Drake was insistent, his hands squeezing my breast over top of my black velvet dress, the other sliding down over my belly to my groin, his fingers pressing against my clit. I closed my eyes and moaned softly. He knew right where to touch and what to do to instantly arouse me.
Downstairs, Karen was looking after Sophie, getting her ready for a feed before putting her down to sleep.
"Later," Drake said and caught my eye in the mirror. "We'll have a nice bath and you'll be so relaxed, you'll let me do practically anything to you."
"I will," I said and smiled to myself. "You always have your way with me."
Finally, after a kiss that promised so much more later, we pulled apart and each of us smoothed our clothes before going back downstairs. I was so glad I agreed to have Karen come and do nanny duties, and a little bit of housework, so that Drake and I could enjoy Sophie or take time to be alone.
We took my father's limo service to Carnegie Hall. I wished we could listen to Dawn Upshaw perform Symphony No. 3 by Gorecki but she wasn't performing it anywhere close to where we lived and I had no intention of flying to London or wherever she was. Instead, we would enjoy an evening of Mozart, whose music I loved, and Ravel, whose music I liked.
We arrived a bit early and stood in the foyer waiting to take our place in my father's box seats, when I noticed a few people staring at us while we stood together and talked. Drake was busy telling me something about Sophie when he must have noticed the same thing I did. I felt as if the two of us were surrounded by people talking about us. He stopped talking and glanced around, then turned back to me, his brow furrowed.
"I can't believe it," he said, his voice low and with a definite edge to it.
"What?" I asked, not wanting to admit that I felt people staring at us.
"People are definitely staring at us. A woman over to my left actually pointed at us and spoke to the other people in her group."
I took a quick peek and saw one of the women watching us intently. I wondered who she was and why she seemed so angry. The expression on her face, with her hair all done up in a tight ponytail, makeup heavy, wearing a gold sequined dress and high heels. She looked wealthy, her face pulled back by the tight hairdo and maybe some plastic surgery.
"She's definitely staring at us," I said.
Drake leaned down and kissed me purposely, then he took my arm and pulled me towards the auditorium. "Let's go. I don't need this."
We left the foyer and went to our seats, sitting in the front of the box so we could look out over the entire stage. They were great seats and we settled in. I was thankful that the lights were low so that we weren't all that visible, but still, as I glanced around, I felt a few faces looking up at us in the box and I glanced quickly away. Luckily, Drake was busy reading the program and didn’t notice. I stared at him, feeling so bad that he had lost so much over the case – how he'd been forced off the board of the Foundation and the Corporation. How he'd given up his Fellowship to be with Sophie and me. How he'd taken a year's leave of absence from NYP…
He was no longer active in the BDSM community nor did he play with his band.
What was left for him but me and Sophie? The man who was so busy, his life so tightly scheduled with everything in such firm control was now changed. He was still as handsome, still as attentive, still as accomplished, but I felt like he was diminished. I wanted him to start playing with Mersey again, so at least he'd have his music and his friendships with the other band members to console him. I wanted him to finish his Fellowship as soon as possible, but would they invite him back after the case and all the publicity?
Would patients want him as their surgeon?
Worry about him and his future was a tiny black spot on an otherwise wonderful night – the first date we'd been on since before the accident. I wanted to enjoy every moment, but instead, I felt a touch of anxiety and sadness.
That wasn't fair to Drake, and so I took in a deep breath and put on a smile.
"What's the sigh about?" Drake said as he turned a page in the concert program. Then he turned to me, his blue eyes focused on me. "That sounded sad."
I raised my shoulder a bit, not wanting to reveal my real concerns. "It's strange being away from Sophie, I guess."
Drake took my hand and squeezed. "Karen is eminently qualified to sit in the living room while Sophie sleeps. In fact, she's probably the very best person we could have looking after her, other than a pediatric trauma surgeon, so relax."
I smiled and leaned back in my chair, squeezing his hand back. "I know. I will."
He leaned over and kissed me and then turned back to his program, reading over a paragraph about the conductor. I smiled again, and tried to enjoy my time out with Drake but as I looked at him – really looked at him – I felt some unaccountable fear. Fear that he'd be taken away from me. Fear that he'd feel cheated of his life, the life he had before I came along, and that he'd leave me – leave us – so he could be a neurosurgeon again. It was silly – Drake loved me and he loved Sophie. It was my postpartum PTSD brain, looking for something wrong when there was nothing.
By the time the performance started, I'd forgotten all about the rude woman who pointed at us. I sat back and enjoyed the performance, remembering back to the time I was here with Drake, when Dawn Upshaw was performing, and how I wanted him gone. Now, in contrast, I relished having him beside me, our hands clasped, his arm around my shoulder.
If I thought the evening was already perfect, other than the fact that people had been pointing and whispering about Drake while we waited in the lounge for the performance to begin, I was wrong. During intermission, Drake and I went to the bar for a drink. It was there, as we stood at a table and each drank a glass of wine, that Drake reached into his jacket pocket and removed a small package.
It was a gift from him for our anniversary. Small and square, wrapped in white tissue with a thin gold ribbon, the gift looked like a ring box.
"Drake, you shouldn’t have," I said with a frown, even as I took the box eagerly.
"I should have and I did. You're my life," he said and took my hand, squeezing it, his eyes burning into mine. "You and Sophie have made my life full and real for the first time in a long time. For forever. I've never had a relationship like this with anyone – not Maureen, not anyone. This small token is nothing compared to what you've given me."
My eyes filled with tears at the sound of his voice, so low and full of emotion, and the words he spoke.
"Oh, Drake…" I smiled through my tears and we leaned closer to each other and kissed once more.
"Open it," he said, his eyes wide, his expression eager.
I did, pulling off the ribbon and removing the tissue paper. Inside was a white box and when I opened it, I gasped. The earrings were teardrop diamonds, that matched the teardrop necklace Drake had given me.
"They're beautiful," I said and looked up at Drake. He was smiling.
"I can't wait to see you wear them," he said and gave me a wicked smile. "Them and nothi
ng else…"
"I can't wait to put them on. And nothing else."
Drake leaned in again and kissed me, the two of us smiling while we kissed. For a moment, there was only the two of us, and the rest of the world melted away as I held his gaze, feeling so happy and loved – really loved.
Then, the happiness was shattered.
"Disgusting," someone said – a woman's voice.
I frowned and turned to look in the direction of the voice and saw a middle-aged woman dressed in a black gown, her hair in a bouffant and her lips blood red. Jewels glittered on her ears, neck and wrists. She stood with a couple of other people – another woman and two men.
The woman turned back to her companions, and the four of them spoke amongst themselves, occasionally glancing at Drake and me.
I felt such hurt and anger at that moment, I wanted to go over and throw my drink in her face. What did she think? Did she believe that Drake was involved in the attack? Did she think he was a bad man because of his past in BDSM?
They knew nothing about Drake. Nothing.
Instead, I turned to Drake and shook my head quickly. "Let's go back to our seats," I said softly.
On his part, Drake stood a little taller, his back stiff. I could see his body tense and knew he was upset, but I took his hand quickly and squeezed it.
"Come on," I said again. "Let's go back to our seats."
I led the way and he followed me, my hand clasped in his. He was frowning, his handsome brow knit, his eyes dark. When we finally arrived back in the box, we sat down in our seats, and Drake glowered, resting his chin in one hand.
"Will I never be able to go out in public without people recognizing me and commenting?"
I took his hand and squeezed. "It'll pass as soon as the trial happens and Lisa goes to jail. People will soon forget as soon as the next scandal comes along."
"I hope so," Drake said. "If not, we're moving away."
"Where would we go?" I asked, surprised that Drake would consider leaving.
"I don’t know," he said, his voice sounding tired and a little exasperated. "Somewhere else. California. South Carolina. Maine. Wherever you want to go."
"I don’t want to leave my father," I said, unable to contemplate leaving him when he was so fragile. I should have humored Drake, sympathized with him, but the thought of leaving my father was too much to bear at that moment.
"No, no," he said and shook his head. "I'm sorry. Of course we won't leave Manhattan. We can’t leave your father. I'd miss him too much. We'll stay and learn to ignore the idiots."
I nodded. "It'll pass, Drake," I said and squeezed his hand once more. "Like I said, as soon as the next scandal comes along."
He exhaled and turned back to watch the stage as the lights flashed to indicate the intermission was over. While people filed back in to take their seats once more, I saw a few heads turn to glance up at us.
Damn them.
Sadly, it wouldn’t be the last time Drake and I became the object of public whispers…
My father gradually improved with each passing day, and I began to relax again, not filled with fear that he would die at any moment the way I had been after his stroke and hospitalization. As for me, my own life with Sophie was becoming more manageable as she grew and got into a routine of sleeping, eating, and spending time sitting on our lap or in her bouncer chair or swing. Despite being a preemie, she was growing like a weed and so I stopped worrying about her health as much.
Thanksgiving came and we spent the day with my family. My father and Elaine hosted dinner. Health and Christine came with their kids. It was a wonderful evening with turkey and all the trimmings. Sophie even sat with my father for a while, but he was still weak on his one side – even more so than before, and I had to sit beside him and help him hold her. He bent down and gave her big kisses on her plump rosy cheeks and did so again and again.
"She's a keeper," he said and smiled at me. "I'm so glad things worked out and you both were fine after the accident. What a wonderful gift, to have such a beautiful baby."
"I know," I said and smiled, my emotions still so close to the surface. My father's stroke was still so recent, and he was only slowly recovering function. My own recovery was complete, even if I still had a lingering fear of something happening to Sophie, but now at least Drake and I were closer than ever. I felt I could confide in him about my fears and he understood and always had calm words to comfort me.
The only dark cloud I felt hovering over me was the fact that Sophie would always be an only child. When I saw Heath's children playing so well together, I felt a pang of sadness that I would only ever have one child. I pushed that sadness out of my mind and heart and tried my best to enjoy what I did have. I had a lot to be thankful for and so for the rest of the night, I shoved all my usual sadness and anxiety aside and tried to live in the moment, and enjoy what I did have instead of being sad for what I would never have.
Seeing Drake holding Sophie and how comfortable he was with her, how easy he was holding her and playing with her, caring for her and feeding her a bottle, made it all worthwhile.
If only the police would clear Drake of any suspicion, we could finally move on, but the case seemed to be taking forever. That darkness I couldn't escape, although I was determined not to let it ruin my holiday and so I shoved that thought to the back of my mind and turned to watch my husband and my sweet baby, sitting with the rest of my family.
Chapter 13 : Drake
As Christmas approached, Kate and Sophie and I went to Macy’s in mid-December to do the usual window shopping and to buy gifts for each other.
“I have to get something for you,” I said, after we spent some time checking out the displays. “You two stay out here while I zip in and get my gift for you. I don’t want you peeking.”
“Okay,” Kate said and kissed me when I leaned in. I kissed Sophie’s cheek and then went inside, looking for the locket I wanted to get for Kate. I’d drop it off at a special jeweler in Chelsea and get it engraved with the words I’d chosen. I wanted this gift to be special – a sign that I was hers and she was mine. I’d chosen the line from the chorus of And I Love Her by the Beatles. She loved that song and it had special meaning for us.
The locket was still there in the display case. It was from an estate sale and was a beautiful antique with burnished gold and a delicate filigree. It would look wonderful against Kate’s skin. I paid the clerk and pocketed the tiny box, eager to see Kate’s face on Christmas Eve when she opened it. I had already bought a gift for Sophie – a $10,000 bond that would gain interest over the years so that she could do whatever she wanted with it when she came of age – go to college, invest in a business – travel the world, but I wanted something special for Kate.
I made my way outside to find Kate and Sophie standing in front of one of the displays. I kissed them both.
“There you two are,” I said and brushed a flake of snow off Sophie’s rosy cheek. “My two girls.” I kissed Sophie’s forehead once more. “The loves of my life.”
I looked in Kate’s eyes only to find that she had been crying. “Hey,” I said, frowning. “Why do I see tears?” I pulled her into my arms and held the two of them, repeatedly kissing them both, trying to understand if Kate was upset.
She smiled. “It’s nothing,” she said and laughed. “I just miss my mother. We used to come here every year…”
“I know,” I said softly and wiped a tear from her cheek. “I miss my father. We didn’t have this kind of happy tradition, but I always spent my Christmas Eve with him, going out for dinner and then to look at the lights.”
She laid her head on my shoulder for a moment of comfort while Sophie sucked away on her pacifier noisily.
“So, are we going to Dad’s for supper?” I asked as we started walking down the street to where our car was parked.
“Yes,” Kate said and took my hand. “We can go any time. He’ll probably have his ear attached to his phone, but we’re always welcome to drop
by early. I can help Elaine with supper and you can take Sophie to see dad.”
“Sounds like a plan,” I said, smiling with delight that I finally had a real family.
We had a wonderful meal with Ethan and Elaine. Ethan had recovered a bit of function, but still had to stay in his motorized wheelchair, using his good hand to move the joystick, so he could travel from room to room. He kept busy on the phone, which he had rigged up to his cell with an ear piece so he could carry on conversations despite being unable to hold a phone to his ear. Dinner was exceptional as usual, and we returned home after tea and conversation. Sophie had fallen asleep in the car and so after Kate put her to bed, she had a warm bath while I checked my mail and tried to catch up on what Dave reported on the foundation.
I finished up and went into the bathroom, to find Kate stepping out of the tub. I helped her dry off.
“What do you think, Mrs. Morgan?” I said, standing behind her, my hands roving up her body to cup a breast. “Shall we take advantage of this time and fuck like bunnies?”
She laughed but I could see the look of desire in her eyes, which were heavy.
“Whatever you say, Doctor Morgan,” she said, closing her eyes as I pushed my hips against her, my cock already hard and pressing against her buttocks.
Just then, Sophie woke up and let out a massive scream. Immediately, Kate‘s body responded and milk sprayed out of one of her breast – no doubt the one that had been drained the least and so had filled up the most since her last feed.
We laughed so hard, Kate standing there with her fingers on her nipples, trying to stem the tide, so to speak. She grabbed some tissue and held the pieces over her breasts to stop the milk from spraying all over everywhere.
“My god, you’re lush,” I said, wrapping the towel around her while Kate pressed the tissue against her nipples. “It’s such a waste that I don’t have a lactation fetish, because you would be my goddess.” I kissed her briefly. “You are my goddess even so.”