Draw Me A Picture

by Meredith Greene

  “When would you like to get married?” William asked.

  Michelle looked at him, her cheeks turning a bit pink.

  “Tomorrow,” she said, smiling shyly. William chuckled.

  “So would I, love,” he said, softly; he found her hand with his. “Realistically, though.” Michelle looked thoughtful for several moments.

  “I don’t have anyone really to notify, besides my uncle,” she began. “I don’t have an employer to arrange with. I could probably pack all my things in two hours and move if I had to. I suppose I would only need about two weeks plan the wedding.”

  “Two weeks?” William asked, surprised. “Don’t weddings usually take longer than that to arrange?” Michelle smiled at his expression.

  “Maybe for Princess Diana’s wedding they did,” she said, trying not to laugh. “I’ve always hoped for a wedding that is beautiful in its simplicity.”

  William looked relieved at her words.

  “I was hoping you’d say that,” he said, frankly. “So, you want to plan it yourself?” Michelle nodded, smiling. “Thank God,” William said, letting out a short breath. “When my mother saw the ring on your finger last night I could actually see her formulating plans that very second. I was deluged with visions of being dragged to photographers and cake sampling and picking out silver patterns and bridesmaid’s gowns...” He stopped, seeing Michelle laughing into her gloves.

  “Please stop!” she begged. “No, no. None of that. Good grief...” She wiped tears of merriment from her eyes. “I meant what I said; beautiful, but simple.”

  Making sure he had a secure foothold, William leaned over and wrapped one of his arms around Michelle’s waist. He kissed her face, pausing to smell her hair.

  “You are a gem; do you know that?” he said in a low voice. “So, the ceremony… are you thinking of having it in New York? Is there anywhere you’ve always wanted to go? What about Italy?” Michelle laughed; her fiancé’s expression struck her as ‘adorable’. He seemed bent on making her dreams come true. Most of them already had come to fruition, beginning with meeting him.

  “Do you have a preference, William?” she asked him, kissing his cheek. Her fiancé shook his head.

  “No,” he said, smiling. “Anywhere… anytime would suit me just right. I would like to take care of the honeymoon, however.” Michelle blushed and looked down, biting her lip.

  “I have no problem with that,” she said, glancing up at him. William was very tempted to give her as many kisses as he could fit in while sitting in a tree; his warning of remaining ‘distant’ floated back to him and he withdrew reluctantly away from the warm, sweet-smelling Michelle.

  “Now, getting back to our plans… is there anywhere you’d like to go for the honeymoon?” he inquired. “Paris? Venice? Just tell me... I’ll find out sooner or later, you know.”

  Michelle smiled at her boots for a moment, thinking. No one had ever offered her a no-holds-barred vacation before. Names of locations only heard of clouded together like an impenetrable mass in her mind. As Michelle pondered the question, it occurred to her that William must have been to a great many places in the world already. A honeymoon was unlike any mere vacation; ideally it should be held at a location previously unexplored, for both of them.

  “Where haven’t you been?” she asked, looking up at William. He saw through her attempt to change the subject.

  “Answer the question, minx,” he said, leaning closer. The look in his eyes invoked an odd feeling in Michelle, and not exactly an unfavorable one; perhaps stalling wasn’t the right tactic.

  “Someplace private,” she said, gingerly. “A place where no one would bother us; where we could talk and go walking, you know... like we’re doing now.”

  William looked pensive for several moments. He did not think Michelle was being deliberately obtuse, but was hoping for a simpler answer, like Florence or Bali. The subtle point implied by her words did not escape him, however; his lady clearly preferred solitude, though with him; William had no problem with that suggestion whatsoever. In fact, he found it preferable to any other situation that he could think of. He rather disliked crowds of people. Looking up, he found Michelle watching him with an uncertain expression.

  “It would be too easy to just say 'Paris' or ‘Rome’...” she continued; her gentle tone caught William's attention. It was clear to him that Michelle did not wish to offend him with her vague answer. “I know you've probably been both those places already...”

  William nodded, a slow smile of understanding spreading across his face. Her consideration touched him greatly.

  “How about Scotland?” he said. “I’ve actually never been there.” His fiancée appeared momentarily surprised at the suggestion; the bright expression in her eyes told William it was a good guess. “Not in the cities, mind you but there are some charming villages to stay in; we could drive around and walk. Though, it not exactly warm there….”

  “That sounds perfect,” Michelle said sincerely. She had not even thought about going to the top portion of the British Isles, but suddenly the idea appealed greatly: cold, clear air outside, a warm fire on a hearth inside where they could cuddle... stormy coastline and long, low hills to walk over. She looked at William; he grinned at her triumphantly.

  “Told you I’d find out,” he said. “Your face says it all.”

  “You wouldn’t mind going there?” she asked, searching his eyes.

  “Not at all,” he said; his tone was one that told Michelle as long as she was present he’d be having a great time. Blushing deeply, she looked back at the lake again.

  “I like this,” William said, after awhile. “We should have all our important discussions in a tree.”

  Michelle smiled.

  “It’s one of my favorite things to do,” she admitted. “It’s kind of juvenile, but if no one’s looking I’ll do it. I love sitting up high and looking out over all the other trees; it’s relaxing and it feels safe.”

  “It’s not juvenile,” William said. “In a public park it may not be so appropriate, but this is nice. When I saw you up here I thought it was a fantastic idea; I was immediately compelled to join you.” The earnest tone of William’s words caused Michelle to laugh, softly.

  “I’m glad you did,” she said, earnestly. “As nice as it is sitting up here alone, it’s far better when someone you love can share it with you.”

  “True,” William agreed. “Well, what do you say we go back?”

  “Why; are you cold?” Michelle asked, her voice teasing. William raised an eyebrow at her.

  “Not with you around,” he said. He waited for her to blush; it didn’t take long. “I want breakfast, love,” he continued. “Unless you can magically make it appear here, I think we should go ‘rustle up’ something ourselves.”

  Michelle took especial pleasure in attaining the ground first.

  “You’re slow,” she called up, watching William pick his way down.

  “You’re just smaller,” William defended. “You’re able to squeeze your tiny frame through these branches quicker.”

  “Maybe I should get you a ladder...” Michelle suggested, biting her lip; her eyes held laughter as she looked up at her man. William gave her a narrow look.

  “Maybe you should start running,” he said, ominously. Seeing the look in William’s eye Michelle took his advice, stumbling a bit in her haste to get away. Swinging down to the ground a few seconds later, William smirked at her retreating form.

  “Not this time, love...” he murmured.

  Michelle could not run as fast as she normally did; laughter hindered her breathing; she halfway hoped she’d see William slip and land on the throw rug again. Rounding the corner of the house, she could see the kitchen door and ran towards it. She only made it a few feet before someone grabbed her from behind; she was lifted up in the air and found herself looking at William’s back. Her fiancé paused, taking deep breaths and smiling as he held a squirming Michelle over his shoulder.

&
nbsp; “William!” she protested, trying to catch her breath. “Put me down!”

  “Not a chance,” William said, cheerfully. “Ladder indeed... little minx. I am going to carry my prize around the victory circle, thank you very much.”

  Opening the kitchen door with one hand, he brought his ‘prize’ in; he walked about a little before setting her down. Michelle was winded and giggling softly; her eyes watered a little but she looked very rosy with the exercise.

  “You... unfair,” she managed to say; she leaned against a wall and pulled off her hat and gloves.

  “Here, let me help you,” William said, grinning. “You look like you're going to fall over.” Michelle gave a soft snort.

  “Maybe I wouldn’t be if someone hadn’t gone all Tarzan on me.” William chuckled. He stood in front of Michelle and proceeded to unbutton her coat. As he did, he had to look down at his hands; he grimaced. His fiancé was wearing that pretty, red shirt again, her fair breast rising and falling as she breathed.

  “This was a bad idea,” he thought, concentrating hard on the last coat button. Watching William’s face, Michelle wondered at the slightly pink color suddenly shadowing his neck; he seemed to be uncomfortable. Glancing down, Michelle blushed herself; she saw one of the buttons between her breasts had come undone. William helped her off with her coat and turned away, presumably to drape it over a chair. Taking the opportunity, Michelle quickly buttoned her shirt up to an appropriate level again, feeling embarrassed. She hadn’t meant to overly tempt the guy. William removed his own coat, laying them both over a chair-back.

  Turning around, William spotted Michelle walking around one of the kitchen counters, looking for an apron. He noticed her shirt was buttoned up and smiled.

  “Smart girl,” he thought, looking at her affectionately. Watching his fiancée, William was struck by how gracefully she moved; she seemed very comfortable in the kitchen. Once, years ago, he’d brought the daughter of a well-respected judge up here to meet his mother; she stayed less than two hours. His mother had made it a point to be as formal as possible; the girl had nearly cracked under her stern scrutiny. In stark contrast, Michelle was walking around his mother’s kitchen, carrying a basket of eggs, humming to herself as naturally as if she were in her little hotel room.

  “Do you need any help, love?” William asked, standing on the other side of the counter from Michelle. She sent him a shy smile and looked back down at the basket of eggs. He could see she was still a bit embarrassed from the ‘button’ incident.

  “Sure,” she said, biting her lip. “Know anything about omelets?” Omelets sounded good to William.

  “Yes, I do. If you hand me the eggs I’ll whisk them,” he offered, giving her an encouraging smile. Michelle did so, feeling a little better. It felt good to cook again, let alone with someone cherished; the atmosphere in the large kitchen was homey and relaxed. Michelle set about to finding cheese and other items in the ‘larder’, as William referred to it.

  The smell of cheese and fried mushrooms filled the air. Michelle stirred some browning shallots in a little pan; next to her, William used a spatula to loosen the edges of an omelet that was nearly done. Switching off the heat, Michelle tilted her pan over William’s and watched admiringly as he expertly folded the omelet and slipped it out on a plate.

  “OK… I’m impressed,” she said, smiling. William grinned at her; his smiles made Michelle heart race, but she tried hard not to show it. “If I can just keep from drooling over the man I should be alright,” she thought. She busied herself with setting out drinking glasses. William came close, holding a glass jug of a brownish-tan liquid. The label bore a picture of whole apples falling from a tree.

  “Oh… apple cider,” Michelle said, smiling brightly; her joyful expression pleased William.

  “I thought you’d like it,” he remarked, pouring some of the cider into the glasses. “The flavor should go well with these omelets.”

  The door of the kitchen clicked, loudly.

  “Once again!” Jean-Claude yelled with his hands in the air. “What? I must get up now at three in the morning to cook for you? Sacre Bleu!” Though his words seemed fierce, Michelle could see the man had laughter in his eyes. It was just a game.

  “Terribly sorry Jean-Claude.” William said, smiling. “We just got a bit famished waiting around.” The chef mumbled a few things Michelle couldn’t hear.

  “Don’t worry, sir,” she said, gently. “We’ll clean up after ourselves.” The chef smiled at her. He looked at William and pointed to Michelle.

  “She has the good manners, oui?” he said. “Bon... likely your food is cooked all wrong.” He stalked over to the table and sat down with them, much to Michelle’s amusement.

  Alfred soon joined them, and Margaret not long after. She swept into the kitchen and saw them all sitting there.

  “Everyone’s up? Oh, good,” she said, brightly. William and Michelle apparently made the omelets right; Jean-Claude did not complain. Michelle noticed he ate rather quickly, for a chef. She liked her own food very well and savored the apple cider especially. It tasted so fresh, as if one had just that morning plucked perfectly ripe, tangy apples and used them to make this liquid ambrosia. William watched Michelle sip the juice; she licked her lips and smiled at the glass with real enjoyment.

  “It’s so easy to make her smile,” William mused, silently. A simple thing like apple cider or a taxi-ride made her eyes sparkle, like she was about to do something really exciting. She climbed trees and sat watching the scenery, completely content. She drew faces and sold them for just pennies, not caring if the work was demeaning. She didn’t lose hope at the prospect of misfortune. She seemed to have the missing pieces of his life, and he knew he provided the same sort of completion for her. Sitting with his family and extended family, William felt that it was right she be here with them; she belonged there. She belonged there, with him.

  Michelle felt William’ scrutiny and looked up; their eyes met over the table. His cobalt eyes held a warm look, one that bathed Michelle with numerous fond feelings. From his expression, he looked to be thinking things good and wonderful about them, about her. She gave him a brilliant smile and looked back down at her breakfast.

  “What a guy,” she thought. “Thank you God for sending him to me.”

  “So, William, what are your plans today?” Margaret inquired, wiping her mouth on a table napkin. Her son seemed to consider the question for a moment.

  As wonderful the idea of being alone with Michelle, William wanted to be very careful how things were perceived until the wedding.

  “I want to drive over to Dorset and show my fiancée the museum there,” he replied; he ate the last bite of his omelet. Margaret seemed pleased at the idea.

  “Oh, a lovely town,” she said, nodding approvingly; she looked over at Michelle. “They have a contemporary art museum there that is very nice; also the houses are so charming… all white clapboard and lamp-posts; very historical.”

  William turned to Alfred.

  “Perhaps I can prevail upon you, old boy to accompany us. It’s not very far. Wouldn’t be the same without you,” he said, smiling. Alfred lifted an eyebrow at him.

  “As charming the company of you and Miss Michelle would be, master William… it would be a bit of a pain to stuff myself back into your little motorcar unless we were returning home.”

  “Not even to join the Dorset Cheese Tour?” William inquired; his face was expressionless. Alfred narrowed his eyes at his employer.

  “Now, don’t think you can wheedle me with cheese...” he began.

  “Fresh farm cheese,” William corrected, laying his fork on his plate. “Chevre, Gouda, the famous Grafton Cheddar...”

  Alfred smiled and turned towards Michelle.

  “This is a man who knows how to argue,” he warned. “You may count me in, sir.” Smiling, William stood up, taking his plate with him; he looked at his watch.

  “A half-hour then?” he suggested. Alfred nodded. Willi
am looked over at Michelle.

  “I’m ready,” she said, smiling. “It sounds like an interesting day... I’ve never heard of cheese blackmail before.” Alfred and William both laughed at this.

  “I am very fond of cheese, my dear,” Alfred said. “Really, it’s a bit of an obsession.” Michelle smiled at him.

  “I can think of worse obsessions to have,” she said. “I’m glad you’re coming with us.” Alfred smiled at her and sipped his coffee.

  Sobering, Michelle glanced at Margaret.

  “I hope you don’t mind us leaving you alone,” she said, apologetically. Margaret laughed.

  “My dear, don’t even think of it,” she said, gaily. “Though I am flattered you did. I have so many letters to write; really, I need to work on them for a few hours.” Michelle believed her earnest tone; she felt better about taking off with William for the day. Standing, Michelle helped stack the dishes and moved towards the sink to clean up the pans. Jean-Claude forestalled her, however; he took her by the shoulders and despite her protests pushed her gently out of the room.

  “Out,” he said, smiling. He closed the door to the kitchen, leaving Michelle to shake her head in the corridor. William emerged a few seconds later.

  “Jean-Claude must like you,” he said, grinning down at Michelle. “He has never cleaned up after anyone before.” Michelle returned his smile.

  “He probably just didn’t want me scratching the pans,” she remarked. Chuckling, William nodded.

  “There is that,” he agreed. Poking William in the shoulder, Michelle looked up at him.

  “Thank you for helping me cook breakfast,” she said, softly. “It made the job very enjoyable.” Her face glowed with a soft gratitude; she looked very touchable.

  “It’s a good thing Alfred’s coming with us,” William thought, grimly. “You’re very welcome, Michelle,” he said. He gently nudged her arm with his elbow. “Go get your coat, minx.”

  THE SMALL town of Dorset looked just as Margaret described. Michelle liked walking down the old-fashioned streets much more than the museum of contemporary art; the modern, rather withdrawn displays therein did not match the town’s warm atmosphere, in her opinion. The locals, however, seemed very proud of the museum. Much more interesting were the historical homes and various displays set up about the area’s history.