Draw Me A Picture

by Meredith Greene

  “I’m Minx… and you get to be Tarzan? No, way... you’re terrible at tree-climbing.” William narrowed his eyes at Michelle.

  “Is that so?” he said, leaning closer to her. “Well, Minx, I think you’re asking for it.”

  “Ah, the inevitable empty threat...” Michelle returned, gleefully. She realized she’d made a tactical error at once; there was very little space to maneuver away and run.

  William lifted his wife off the floor and tossed her onto the couch before she had time to bolt; he tickled her for good measure, liking the sound of her laughter very much. Giggling hard, Michelle tried to wiggle away... to no avail. Enjoying himself thoroughly, William prevented his bride’s escape by straddling her on the couch. Chuckling, he glanced down; Michelle’s robe had come open a little. Halting his tickling endeavors, William allowed his wife a few moments to catch her breath.

  “You’re not wearing a shirt under this?” he asked, his voice a little strained. Michelle met his gaze, her breast rising and falling rapidly still.

  “Uh, no,” she said, smiling. She bit her bottom lip, but William saw it was not from shyness. Her eyes almost glowed with exercise and something else a trifle more enticing.

  “Bloody hell...” William thought. He liked Michelle’s version of visual entrapment. Very much so. She regarded him with a rather warm gaze.

  “You’re a bit overdressed, sir,” she said, her eyes twinkling.

  “Hm... shy Michelle is temporarily gone and the Minx has replaced her.” William said, untying Michelle’s sash. His wife laughed, softly.

  “Every girl has an inner vixen, you know,” she informed him. “I just don’t let mine out to play very often.” William lifted an eyebrow at her.

  “Interesting,” he said, grinning; his smile made Michelle feel very much at home.

  Several minutes later, Michelle touched William’s face with her fingertips. He seemed very pleased with himself; they rested on the couch, covered partially with Michelle’ robe.

  “In spite of your lack of tree-climbing abilities,” she said, quietly, ”… You’ve earned the nickname, in my opinion.” William chuckled.

  “I’m flattered,” he said, sitting up a little. “You know I’m liable to get spoiled with all this... activity, you know.”

  “Activity?” Michelle said, with mock-surprise on her face. “Is that what we’re calling it? Yes, well, don’t worry you’re going back to work on Monday. Then you’ll have to wait for activities until you return home to me in the evening.”

  “Now, that sounds bloody depressing,” William said, grimacing. Looking over at Michelle, he grinned; she sat up on the couch, her blood-red robe draped over her. “Don’t worry love. I’ll find ways around that.” Michelle liked his tone but refrained from showing it. She did watch him put on his clothes again, however. Walking through the dining room, William carried the tray back.

  “I could get very used to such frequent activity,” he thought, grinning. He felt like he’d been dosed with raging teenager hormones again. Not that he minded.

  Pulling on her robe once more, Michelle glanced over at William’s side table, a little off to one side of the living room. She saw the wedding gifts piled there and smiled.

  “William?” she called, tying her sash. Her husband strolled through the door, smiling at her boyishly.

  “Present,” he said. Michelle grinned at him and pointed to the gifts. “Oh, yes. I guess we forgot to open those. I have been a bit... distracted.” He kissed Michelle’s neck and walked over to the side table. “There was one in particular I was curious about...” He spied the lime-covered gift and brought it out, grinning. “Here it is,” he said. Michelle stood next to him, looking at the gift.

  “You do know that my uncle has nothing against the British, right?” she asked, looking up at William; he chuckled.

  “I am aware of that, love,” he said. “It’s kind of a joke between us.” Michelle located a trash-bin and brought it over.

  The gift turned out to be an electric knife and a DVD; the movie was really an episode of a popular cooking show, showing one how to cut a fruit bowl out of a watermelon. William laughed a good deal over it, especially the note included. It read: 'Everyone needs to know how to cut a fruit bowl. Better luck with yours'.

  “At least he didn’t include Bob’s saw...” William said, smiling. The knife was a rather good one, even in his estimation; it would be handy carving meat and so forth.

  “True,” Michelle commented. “Perhaps we should try it out one day; it’s the kind of thing one would use for parties and things.” Looking at the DVD cover, William grinned; his eyes were full of humor.

  “I have an idea,” he said.

  THE DOORBELL roused Oscar from his couch; hitting the mute button on the football game, he adjusted his sweater and opened the door. No one was out there, but on his doorstep, sitting in the evening chill was a perfectly cut watermelon bowl, with fruit salad in it. Grinning, Oscar picked it up.

  “Ok… show yourselves,” he said, loudly. Around the corner came a little laugher, William and Michelle came around, both smiling. The young people looked happy and in love. “I see you’ve put my gift to good use,” the man said. “Come inside a minute.”

  “Why thank you,” William said, jovially. “Don’t mind if we do.”

  Installed in the warm living room, the two guests accepted a cup of decaf from Oscar. He sat down, looking at them both a minute.

  “I’m not going to be obvious and ask if you have a good time,” he began, grinning at William. “I can see you did.” Michelle blushed and smiled.

  “Yes, we did,” she answered. “Thank you for not asking.” Her uncle chuckled.

  “Anytime,” he said. “I have some good news, myself.” At this William sat forward a little.

  “What now?” he thought. With Oscar it could be anything, literally; perhaps the man had decided to join a ‘green’ group to herd goats, grow carrots and picket oil-tankers.

  Seeing his small audience was listening, Oscar smiled.

  “I’m moving to California,” he said. Michelle’s eyebrows went up; questions were on the tip of her tongue. Holding her peace, she waited for her uncle to explain.

  “I’ve heard that the climate there is very nice,” William said, carefully. Oscar stood up, walking over to the window. Snow was already falling again.

  “Hence its appeal,” he said, turning back to his guests. “I don’t want to wade through another New York winter.”

  “I understand that,” Michelle said, quietly. “Do you know where you’d be settling?”

  “I think I’ll try Sacramento,” Oscar answered, taking a sip of his coffee.

  “I liked capitals and I hear the market’s ripe for buyers, and there are more than a few law firms teetering on the brink. Good place for me.”

  William chuckled.

  “Yes. As they taught us in law school: ‘the early vulture gathers the carrion’,” he said, amused. Oscar laughed.

  “That's not bad,” he remarked. “I’ll have to remember that one.” He looked over at Michelle. “I hope you guys will come out and visit sometime,” he said, sobering. “Keep in touch and all that?” Michelle smiled at him fondly.

  “We will,” she promised. “Do you think you’ll like living in... Sacramento?” Oscar thought for a moment.

  “I think so,” he said. “Can’t be worse with all that sunshine.”

  “The man has a point,” William said. “I bet Bob will be getting a promotion.” Oscar grinned, walking back over to the couch; he sat down again, fixing William with his flint-gray stare.

  “Over the main office, yeah,” Oscar said. “Bob knows almost as much about running the place as me. The new office, however, needs you to run it.”

  It took a moment, but slowly William and Michelle realized what Oscar just said. Michelle smiled, very wide; she wanted to hop up and clap her hands, but refrained. William blinked, allowed his calm facade to crack; he grinned.

&nbs
p; “I won’t disappoint you, sir,” he said. Oscar nodded, sagely.

  “I know,” he said. “You’re too stubborn to disappoint and you’re damn good at your job. I think you can manage a branch office just fine.” Michelle kissed William’s cheek. She favored her uncle with a bright smile.

  “I know for certain that this has nothing whatsoever to do with me,” she said, sighing. “You’d never do family favors.” This time, Oscar laughed, hard.

  “You know me too well already,” he said. “Well, get on with you two. I need some sleep.”

  William shook his hand before they left. “We’ll talk Monday, sport,” Oscar told him. “Until then, enjoy your weekend with your bride.” He gave Michelle a small hug and watched them walk down the steps to a waiting taxicab.

  “Wow…” Michelle said. “You get a wife and a promotion all in the same month.” William smiled down at her, liking her animated demeanor.

  “It is a good promotion love, in more ways than one,” he said, opening the cab door. “As the branch boss, I’d get more time off and a bit more flexibility in my schedule.” Michelle considered his words as they got in the taxi.

  “So, you’ll be able to come home more often?” she asked, her face coloring a little. William smiled, lifting one eyebrow.

  “As I recall, I promised you babies,” he said, leaning down to her ear. “I plan to deliver on that promise.” Michelle smiled at this.

  “I see,” she said, drawing back from his face a little. Looking into his bright blue eyes, Michelle saw herself reflected in them. Her reflection smiled back. “I hope they have your gorgeous eyes, William.”

  “Mm...” he answered, his face buried in her neck. “A few need to have your eyes, though. Such a lovely, odd color.” Michele giggled.

  “Ok, so how many kids should we go for?” she inquired, leaning back against the seat. William looked at her face a moment, a smile playing around his mouth.

  “I say we just keep up our activities and God can decide how many we get,” he said, at last.

  “You’re a genius,” Michelle said, smiling.

  “Certifiable,” William returned. “After all, I did figure out how to make you mine.” Michelle sighed; she leaned her head down on his shoulder.

  “That you did,” Michelle said. The young couple rode homeward over the Brooklyn Bridge, towards their own domicile of hope.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  In the full sunlight of her bedroom’s semi-circle window, Michelle stood at a wooden easel, putting finishing touches on a drawing. William finished the easel a month earlier, surprising her with it one evening. He’d been working on it for some time, apparently; he’d informed his bride--at the time--that it was his most complicated piece yet. Just knowing that William had made it especially for her sent warmth through Michelle’s fingers and inspired her to continue her passion for drawing.

  The picture occupying the easel resembled a cozy scene from inside a country pub; aged and young faces alike looked out from the thick, white paper; some smiled, some drank from pints and others looked right back at the observer. Michelle smiled; it fairly radiated a warm feeling of inclusion. Leaning forward, Michelle bit her lip in concentration, applying a tiny lined shadow under one subject’s worn-looking hat.

  The bedroom door opened; turning, Michelle saw William walking up to her, a pleased smile on his face.

  “Welcome, o’ lord of the castle,” Michelle said, capping her pen. “How goes the fine furniture making, deep in your craftsman’s dungeon?” William grinned back at her; his eyes held the look of one who carries secret knowledge, and means to keep it so.

  “It’s too lovely outside to stay in,” he stated, kissing his wife’s face. “As much as I like seeing you using my present, I insist on carrying you off to an undisclosed location. Right now.” Michelle laughed, softy.

  “Really?” she said. “It’s Saturday… and I’m still in my pajamas.”

  William walked deliberately over to the closet; a few seconds, he came out bearing Michelle’s pale pink dress.

  “This will do,” he said, grinning. “Honestly, your side of the closet is still very bare, love. It takes me nearly five minutes to find something of mine to wear.” Michelle rolled her eyes.

  “That’s the point,” she said, smiling. “I like being able to dress quickly.” She picked up the pink gown, feeling the soft fabric with a smile. “You want me to wear this? Now I’m curious...” Quickly, Michelle stripped off her camisole and pajama bottoms, stowing them in a nearby laundry basket. “The last time I wore this was for the pre-wedding photographs,” she continued.

  “I’d like some photographs of you right now...” William said, taking in his wife’s form appreciatively. Michelle smiled and favored him with a warm gaze.

  “If you want to go right now, you’d better quit looking at me like that,” she said, softly. William licked his bottom lip, moving towards Michelle.

  “I meant ‘right now’ as in sometime in the next hour,” he said, quietly. Michelle’s greenish eyes looked into his, giving William the distinct impression she understood and minded not. He needed no further encouragement.

  “PLEASE TELL me where we’re going...” Michelle said, pleadingly. William chuckled, not taking his eyes from the road. They drove down a small country road in his roadster, the city far behind them.

  “Your doe-eyed expression, though very lovely, will not wheedle any information from me, love,” he informed her. “I’ve waited a long time to bring you here, so be patient.” Michelle sighed, her man’s maddeningly calm tone only let her know that he was perfectly in charge of the situation and his plans were in motion. Smiling a little, Michelle realized she did not mind not knowing all the time; William had excellent plans as she’d discovered numerous times.

  Shortly after noon, William turned down what appeared to be a private drive; soon both sides of the road were lined with apples trees, in full bloom. They drove right through the middle of a vast apple orchard. Michelle sat forward, her face alight. The trees were tall and entirely engulfed in the white and pink blossoms, looking like fluffy clouds pinned to the earth via a thin, wooden stake. Rolling down her window, Michelle inhaled the sweet, sweet fragrance of the tree-spawned flowers.

  “Oh, William,” she whispered, “How beautiful!” Smiling, William pulled over to the shoulder at the base of a small, tree covered hill. Michelle’s face reflected his own enjoyment of the place, though he was not inclined to let it show, just yet.

  “I thought you’d like it,” he said. “I was waiting until I knew for certain the trees would be blossoming.” Michelle turned and kissed his face, twice. Her eyes shone.

  “You sneaky Tarzan, you,” she said, affectionately. “Been monitoring crop reports?” William shrugged, hiding a smile.

  “I have my sources,” he said, cryptically. Michelle put her arms around his neck.

  “Really? Enlighten me,” she said, kissing his chin. William cleared his throat.

  “All in good time,” he said. “I have a picnic basket in the trunk, love.” Michelle’s smile grew even more bright.

  “At the risk of sounding unduly like an adolescent... how cool is this?” she said, hopping out of the car. William chuckled, opening his car door.

  Collecting the lunch hamper, they walked hand in hand up the low hill. At the top a large apple tree stood, its branches so long they drooped down almost to the ground, forming a kind of sheltered, flower-roofed space underneath.

  “Oh, let's live here!” Michelle said, fingering some nearby blossoms. “Right under this tree. We can put our bed there and the armoire here and the fridge there.” William chuckled; although ridiculous, the idea held immense appeal. Waking up each morning to Michelle and apple blossoms... an excellent combination.

  “While I agree with you, I say we spent a little time looking around the place before deciding to reside here,” William said, amused. He held up a thick blanket. Smiling, Michelle nodded and helped him spread it out on the
ground under the tree. There was another blanket, but William pushed it out of sight behind the basket. He sat down, his back to the tree trunk.

  “Are you going to sit, love?” he coaxed, patting the blanket next to him. Really, though, sitting was the last thing on his mind. “I have something to tell you.”

  Intrigued, Michelle sat, cuddling up next to her man.

  “Men have the advantage with phrases like that,” she said, gently; she touched his ear softly. “You know I’m immediately curious and said curiosity makes me gravitate to your side.” William looked down into Michelle’s eyes, liking her mood very much.

  “Yes, well that is the point of the exercise,” he said. “I have a bit of a confession to make.” Michelle wondered at the pink tinge taking over William’s neck but let him continue. “The night I found you at the gallery, I had this, er... vision, I guess you could call it.”

  “Vision?” Michelle asked, gently. William looked out over the lovely view.

  “Well, perhaps ‘daydream’ is a better word,” he said, looking at her once more. “You looked up at me with those beautiful eyes of yours... and suddenly I was sitting with you in an apple orchard, very like this one… with blossoms and a picnic. I saw the same thing during the ceremony on our wedding day.” Michelle looked at William steadily, an awed expression on her face.

  “That is very romantic,” she said, her voice soft. “What were we doing?” William grinned.

  “Talking, actually. And Laughing,” he said, looking slowly over his wife’s fair countenance. “Then, I leaned down and kissed you.”

  “I like this dream so far,” Michelle said, smiling; her eyes sparkled. “Was there more?”

  William shook his head.

  “No. I got the impression it was a make-your-own-ending kind of vision,” he explained. “I can think of a few ways to end it.” Michelle blushed, striving to hold her husband’s warm gaze.

  “A few?” she inquired. Grinning, William slid one arm behind Michelle’s back.

  “Indeed,” he returned. His gaze made Michelle feel like melting; she didn’t even notice him unbuttoning the back of her dress. “I have a fairly good imagination, you know.”