Draw Me A Picture

by Meredith Greene

  “Or start slapping...” Michelle said, rubbing her face again. William kissed her affected cheek a few times. “Oh... I could get used to that,” she said, sighing. “Feel free to assuage your guilt for even dating that femme fatal.”

  William snorted.

  “She is the epitome of a heinous ex-girlfriend,” he said, looking into Michelle’s eyes. “One of the worst mistakes I’ve ever made. I didn’t date for years, just because of her.” Smiling back up at him, Michelle felt lighter; even William was prone to a bad decision every once in awhile. It wasn’t like she’d never made a mistake.

  “I’m OK with it,” she said, meaning every word. “I’m the one who gets to keep you.” William didn’t bother kissing her cheek this time; she deserved a proper one. One of the guards nearby noisily cleared his throat after a minute; William reluctantly pulled away from his fiancée.

  “Shall we go see the rest of the exhibits, love?” he inquired. “Or would you like to get some dessert somewhere? I know of an excellent ice-cream parlor nearby.”

  “Yes to both,” Michelle said, smiling. “I’m not going to let that wolverine wreck our evening.” William smiled at her.

  “That’s a fairly accurate description,” he said, abounding amused. “She really got you fired?” Sighing, Michelle nodded.

  “Her company is the favor-er of illegal loopholes that I told you about,” she said, frowning. “Johnson & Black has let them get away with it for years. By now they must owe tens of millions in back taxes. The IRS investigators are so overwhelmed; it’s easy to imagine how they managed to slip under the radar all these years.”

  William looked thoughtful for several moments.

  “Someone could tip them off,” he suggested, looking at her sideways. “Someone who knows every detail of their illegal dealings.” Michelle shrugged.

  “I thought about it,” she admitted. Looking up at William she searched his profile for some kind of emotional indication; sometimes her man was difficult to read. “I also thought,” she continued, “… that if they were turned in, a lot of people would suddenly be without employment. I wouldn’t want to put anyone in that position, especially when the hardest-working people would be the ones to get the pink slip.”

  “You have made a stand already and been terminated for it,” William said, glancing down at Michelle. “Nobody can ask more of you than that. However, to know what is right and not do it is...”

  “... I know; the worst cowardice,” Michelle finished, sighing. “I don’t usually agree with things Confucius said, but that particular idiom I remember.” William chuckled.

  “I’m impressed you even know who said it,” he said, smiling at Michelle. “Still, they should not be allowed to get away with it, Michelle.” His expression grew serious. “You’ve paid for your moral stand; why not make them pay for their lack of it?”

  “The problem here is upon being hired, I had to sign a confidentiality agreement, regarding clients,” Michelle explained, heavily. “Believe me, when I was sitting out there on my street corner day after day, knowing those thieves were still employed and enjoying their good life, I became the #1 proponent of whistle-blowers everywhere.”

  Laughing under his breath, William smiled at his fiancée’s drawn brow. Her face was so gently formed that it was difficult for her to look angry and be taken seriously.

  “So, my little speech of cowardice was a trifle unnecessary?” William said, his voice teasing. Michelle gave him a small smile.

  “No,” she stated. “I like knowing that you care as much for my character as you do in seeing that I am properly clothed.”

  “Yes, I do, Minx,” William said. “I am convinced that my worries were unfounded.”

  Michelle leaned her head against his shoulder as they strolled. For what seemed the millionth time since she met William, Michelle gave a small, silent prayer of thanks; somehow the hard times she’d gone through did not seem quite so unfair. Her character was tempered by want and her experiences made her grateful for small blessings. This blessing, however, left them all behind; she found her companion.

  As a small child Michelle had loved to drive with her father to the store or to get the mail; he loved to listen to a type of country music that he described as “bluegrass”. One particular song stuck in Michelle’s mind and she never forgot the words to the chorus, though she did not know who the artist was or even the name of the song. Its words and lovely melody echoed in her ears many times since then, especially on lonely nights:

  “Send me a companion to share life’s troubles and joys;

  Someone to hold through the night.

  A companion to picture in the frame of my mind.

  I wouldn’t mind if I met you tonight.”

  Walking by William in the scattered crowd of convention visitors, Michelle felt complete; the longing in that song had somehow been fulfilled and she no longer felt abandoned. This man truly cared for her, mind, body and soul. Only one thing marred her joy; above all things, Michelle hoped she filled the missing pieces of William’s life in the same, complete manner as he did for her.

  Cassandra Matheson’s words--though spoken by an unworthy vessel--did manage to plant a little seed of doubt in Michelle’s mind. She glanced up at William, thinking of how much he’d improved her life and could not think of anything equal she’d done for him. She wondered that if, by marrying her, the man she loved would be harmed socially and eventually resent her for it. Michelle knew she’d not be able to endure resentment; not from William.

  “I’d rather die a thousand deaths,” she thought, soberly.

  “You’re very quiet, love,” William said, after a minute. “Even for you.” Realizing that her thoughts were reflecting upon her face, Michelle looked up at William; his cerulean eyes held a look of mild concern.

  “My apologies,” Michelle said. “I was pondering something weighty, which I don’t want to share right now.”

  William laughed, and grinned very wide.

  “I love your honesty,” he said, admiringly. “Most women would have tried to convince me it was ‘nothing’ or that you were thinking of 'wedding arrangements', or some such rot.” Michelle allowed herself a real smile.

  “What’s point in that?” she asked him. “I think you'd be able to tell... I’m a horrible actress.” She felt a soft kiss placed on her cheek and turned to William. He looked at her with such affection Michelle felt it silly to hold on to her fears.

  “How could he look at me like that if he didn’t want me for his companion?” she thought. William was a very intelligent man; surely he’d thought of the consequences of them marrying, and of her lack of any social status whatsoever. Maybe he didn’t care; certainly, William had shown that he lived his life as he saw fit. However, he was raised in high society, and wealth. Some things do not change, and this Michelle feared would be their detriment.

  “Well… please let me know when you want to discuss it, love. Whatever it is.” William’s voice drew Michelle from her quiet musings. “You can tell me anything, you know that, right?” His fiancée met his gaze.

  “Yes, I do,” she replied, earnestly. “And I will… after I consider it a bit.” William seemed satisfied with this answer and pointed out a display of armoires to her; he knew she was fond of them.

  As they looked at one piece after the other, William glanced at Michelle several times. He had a feeling that Cassandra had said something to her before he’d arrived in time to listen; he’d seen his sweetheart bounce insults off her like water from a duck’s back. Yet, now he could tell something was really bothering her. Michelle was not an obstinate person, however; William hoped she’d let him help her through whatever the problem was. If not, he may have to extract the information from her.

  “That might not be so bad,” he thought, with an impish grin.

  William saw his fiancée back to her uncle’s Brooklyn home, though Michelle objected. It was far out of his way. As per his usual trait, William did it anyway.
/>   “You’re very stubborn,” Michelle told him, in the taxi. Chuckling, William draped his arm over her shoulders.

  “You have no idea, love,” he said. “In a good way, though. I go for exactly what I want and attain it by all legal means, within reason.” It was Michelle’s turn to laugh.

  “I see,” she said, smiling. “And what will you want next, once you’ve attained what you want now?” Michelle immediately wished she’d bit back her words. Even in the dark of the cab, William’s eyes glittered with a strange, almost overpowering look. He leaned forward, holding her to him.

  “A family,” he whispered in her ear. “I promised to give you babies remember?” Something about William’s tone made Michelle want to get as close to him as possible. William responded by kissing her ear softly and moving down to her jaw line to her neck.

  The window between the cab driver and the backseat slid open.

  “No intercourse in my cab,” he barked, making William jump back a little. “Get a room for that.” Michelle blushed furiously, and noted her man did as well.

  “We weren’t going to here,” William said, sounding nettled. “She’s my fiancée, for heaven’s sake...”

  “Whatever pal,” the driver said, sliding the window shut. Michelle giggled softly.

  “What a bitter guy,” she remarked. William grunted; he did not sound amused.

  “Just because the blighter’s not getting any...” he mumbled under his breath. Michelle did not hear all of it but guessed fairly accurately what William said. Blushing, she looked out her window. Street-lamps lit up her face for a split second each time they passed; her skin looked fair and soft. Looking away, William cleared his throat and concentrated on the small, cracked light fixture on the ceiling of the cab. As much as he disliked cold showers, they did help; he could not wait, however, for the day when he’d never have to take one again.

  “Eight days... only eight more days. I can do this,” he thought; he glanced at Michelle. She was worth it. Every discomfort was absolutely worth it. William thought of the honeymoon plans, relaxing back in his seat. “She’ll be so surprised,” he thought, smiling to himself.

  They said goodnight in the cab; William braved all forthcoming 'angry driver' comments and give Michelle a long kiss before letting her out. She blushed in the most satisfactory manner and skipped up the stairs with a smile. Giving the driver directions to his building, back on the Island, William leaned back, running over the evening’s events in his mind. He thought of Michelle’s words to Cassandra in the ladies’ room and chuckled. His soft-spoken fiancée had rallied herself nicely, proving she could be the Lady of the Castle just fine… especially when threatened. The thought comforted him and he rode home in contented silence.

  MICHELLE COULD not sleep. Several hours of lying on the spare room bed passed but she could not stop from thinking about possibly harming William’s reputation, just by marrying him. Doubts preyed on her; though part of her mind knew William didn’t care about such things, Michelle knew that others did. What if his family had nothing to do with him after their marriage? Margaret was a gem and very accepting, but not everyone could be so. Sighing in frustration, Michelle threw back the covers and drew on her robe. Her uncle had brought her things from the hotel somehow, and they’d all been dry-cleaned.

  The long, silk robe felt good and familiar in this strange place. Softly descending the stairway, Michelle went to find a cup of tea in the kitchen; she needed an area to pace around and think.

  Some minutes later, Oscar thought he heard noises downstairs and fully awoke immediately. Grabbing his .45 he silently crept downstairs, the gun at the ready. Soft sounds emanated from the kitchen; light shown out from under the door. Remembering his niece, Oscar approached the kitchen door, soundlessly opening it a crack. Michelle was indeed inside, walking around with a cup in her hand; her face appeared troubled. Putting the safety on, Oscar stowed the gun out of sight in the back of his waistband and pushed the door open.

  “You alright?” he asked. Michelle jumped in surprise, one hand to her chest.

  “You scared me,” she said, smiling. “Yes, I’m' OK.”

  “Sorry about that,” Oscar said, grinning. “I thought I had a home invader.” Michelle smiled ruefully and pointed at herself.

  “You kind of do,” she said. “I am sorry I woke you.” Oscar put up a hand.

  “Don’t worry about it,” he said. “I could use some tea myself.” Michelle arrested her stride and went back to get him a cup. Oscar accepted the tea gratefully and sat at on a bar stool He sipped the hot liquid, watching his niece walk around in a circle.

  “I’m going to go out on a limb here and say you got something on your mind,” he said, trying not to smile. He’d had the pre-wedding jitters himself once; such were not ‘nice’ things to experience. Michelle smiled, continuing to pace.

  “I bet that’s fairly obvious,” she said, quietly. “Yes, I am in the 3am ‘clutches of doubt’.” Oscar laughed.

  “Well at least I don’t have to guess,” he said. “Your William is a lucky guy to have one of the forthright Gregory women for a wife.” Again, Michelle could not help but smile; she looked over at her uncle and hesitated only a moment before sitting down a couple of seats away from him.

  “I can’t help but thinking that William is stepping down several steps--socially speaking--by marrying me… and that eventually he’ll come to resent me for it.” She spilled it all out, knowing her uncle liked to view all the information at once.

  Oscar did not answer right away, but sipped his tea for a minute.

  “You’re not a girl prone to foolishness, Michelle,” he said, at last. “But, you’re talking like a fool right now.” Michelle felt a little surprised and hurt at his words, but waited for the man to continue. Not hearing an immediate objection and defense, Oscar smiled. Being homeless and unemployed for two years had apparently taught his niece patience… a valuable trait, in his eyes. He leaned forward and looked the young woman in the eye. “Clearly, the guy likes you,” he went on. “More than that, I think he’s head over heels fallen for you. When a guy feels like that, nothing will stop him... not social status, or money, or anything. You’ll find that most guys have a one-track mind, a stubborn streak if you will; it’s what makes us go after a career we want with everything we’ve got… to toil in the hot sun to pay the bills, or... to go after a girl, when we meet the right one.” His look softened. “He asked you to be his wife, so he’s got honor. He works hard even though he doesn’t have to, so he’s respectable. I heard him speak with you honestly, so why worry about what may or may not happen? If you do that, you’ll just destroy your own marriage with suspicion.” Oscar paused and sipped his tea.

  Sitting on her bar stool, Michelle digested this information.

  “So, I’m allowing outside influences to determine my future,” she stated. Oscar set down his tea on the counter.

  “There’s nothing wrong with listening to outside advice, Michelle,” he said, gravely. “It’s like eating fish; it’s good for you... but you have to spit out the bones.” Michelle laughed, her smile returning.

  “That’s not a bad metaphor at all, Uncle,” she remarked. “I understand what you are trying to say. Perhaps I should give William the benefit of the doubt instead of deciding already what he will do, or think.”

  “Exactly,” Oscar said. “William comes from a different world, that true, but you two are so much alike in mind and soul it’s almost creepy to watch. Even I can see you guys were made for one another.”

  “Until I met William, I did not believe that soul-mates actually existed,” Michelle admitted, drinking her tea. Oscar sighed, a little sadly, Michelle thought.

  “They do,” he said, standing up. “Life’s just too short to waste in pondering ‘what-ifs’ and ‘maybes’. Do you love this guy?”

  “Yes,” Michelle answered, firmly. Oscar smiled at her quick response.

  “Then marry him and don’t look back,” he said. He walk
ed over to the sink and put his cup down in it. “Remember at least this one thing, Michelle; when you marry you’re not one person anymore, but part of another. When you’re his wife, you’ll need to talk with him about these things. Don’t keep them to yourself in some misguided attempt at independence. If you want to be independent, don’t get married. It will just drive a wedge between you, and I’m certain you don’t want that.”

  Michelle shook her head.

  “I do not,” she said, with conviction. “It’s the whole reason I’m up tonight. I never want him to resent me. I couldn’t bear that.” Oscar smiled.

  “Don’t give him a reason to,” he said, sagely. “Then you’ll always be in the clear when ‘misunderstandings’ arise. They will, you know.” Michelle nodded, putting away her own teacup.

  “I am aware of that,” she said. “We’ve already experienced a few of those.” Oscar nodded, opening the kitchen door.

  “Glad to hear it,” he said. “Life isn’t perfect. But, if you can be honest with each other through troubled times, the good times are that much sweeter for you and can be enjoyed in good conscience.”

  At the stairs, Michelle smiled at her uncle with warmth.

  “Thank you for the advice,” she said; her face held genuine gratitude. “From the number of poignant things you've said, I can tell you once felt doubt as I do... or something similar.” Oscar nodded.

  “Doubts are something you’ll always have to deal with,” he said, plaintively. “But, in marriage doubts are like poison. I’ve just seen far too many couples slowly separate themselves from each other; it was a damn shame every time.” His niece nodded in agreement, and then bit her lip, a look of uncertainty crossing her features.

  “I assumed you would....” she began, “But I'd like to ask all the same; would you walk me down the aisle, sir?” Oscar looked at his niece for a few moments.

  “I'd be honored to, Michelle,” he replied. Smiling again, Michelle bid her uncle goodnight.