Draw Me A Picture

by Meredith Greene

  “He’s finally here,” she whispered. William leaned forward over her shoulder and looked at her face; it was wet with tears, though she did not look unhappy.

  “I love you, Michelle,” he said; his voice was replete with sincerity. “We made him out of our love for each other.” At his words Michelle looked up, into the bright blue eyes she knew so well. They shone with pride and love, for her and their boy; his smile warmed her through, knowing the words he spoke were true.

  “You’re right; we did,” she assented, smiling back. “I love you, William.” Her man caressed her hair and looked over at their son.

  “He looked like an Ethan,” he said, quietly. Michelle looked down at the newborn in her arms as well.

  “He does,” she said, surprised. “How did we not think of that name before?” William chuckled, touching the baby’s head.

  “I don’t know,” he said, smiling at the little mite. “Ethan.”

  “Ethan Lawrence,” Michelle suggested. “For your mother.” William laughed, a little.

  “Not bad,” he said. Slipping his hand under Michelle’s chin, he looked into her lovely eyes again. “You’ve made my life good, Michelle. Every part of my life is better because of you.” Michelle felt tears flooding her eyes and blinked them away.

  “I can honestly say the same, my dear sir,” she said, unsteadily. She saw a familiar look in her man’s eye; Michelle let William kiss her, implanting the tender moment forever in her mind.

  A few hours later, William sat on a large chair by his wife's hospital bed, watching over his small family. Ethan slept peacefully in Michelle’s loving arms, full and content with his first feeding. His beautiful mother was asleep as well, completely tired out. William was amazed at how she was able to stay cognizant until she was certain her son had fed and burped properly. She had much more strength than she’d previously suspected; her husband was not surprised. He already knew Michelle was a remarkable young woman; he was just grateful to have her for his own. And a son, now as well.

  “Life is good,” William said, leaning his head on the head rest so he could look at the sleeping pair better. A contented smile rested on his lips, his eyes a little more watery than he’d like to admit.

  A soft knock came at the door of Michelle’s private room; looking up, William saw his mother standing in the doorway, with Alfred right behind her. Smiling, William stood up, opening the door to let them in. Margaret gave her son a tight hug, smiling brightly; her face looked a little younger all the sudden and her eyes were full of pride and excitement. Alfred shook William’s hand heartily, beaming broadly. Putting a finger briefly to his lips, William turned and pointed at the hospital bed. Margaret gasped, quietly, her hands clasped to her chest.

  “Oh, how precious!” she whispered, moving a little closer. Alfred smiled, clapping William on the shoulder.

  “Congratulations, William,” he said, quietly. “There is nothing like it, now isn’t there?” William smiled at the aged man then looked over at his sleeping wife and son.

  “Indeed not,” he said. “She’s so beautiful... so is the baby.” Alfred chuckled a little and slipped a cigar into William’s shirt pocket.

  “There you go, lad,” he said, smiling. “A fine young boy there.”

  “Thank you, Alfred,” William said, clasping the man’s hand. “I appreciate you coming by.”

  Margaret was in quiet ecstasies over the sight of her little grandson.

  “Oh, William!” she said, softly. “He’s adorable! Just beautiful! Well done, my boy... well done.”

  “Thank you,” William said, leaning down to receive a motherly kiss from her. “His name is Ethan Lawrence.” Margaret smiled even wider.

  “Perfect!” she said, clapping her hands a little. “Oh, what a darling! He looks like an Ethan, too. And you snuck in Lawrence, too. I appreciate that, my boy. It was my father’s name. I adored him; he looks like my father a little. Oh, he’s lovely!” Taking out a slim digital camera, she took several pictures of the mother and baby, Alfred and William as well, much to her son’s amusement.

  “I can see this is an indication of times to come,” he said, shaking his head. Margaret smiled at him.

  “It is a grandmother’s right to take copious photos,” she said, sagely. She stood by Michelle and laid her hand gently on the top of the young woman’s head. “Poor thing. Did she have much trouble?”

  William’s face fell a little at the memory of his precious wife going unconscious.

  “A little,” he admitted. Margaret looked concerned. “She fainted for a few minutes until they stopped her bleeding.” William continued, sitting down in the chair again. “Gave me one hell of a scare.”

  He felt Alfred’s hand on his shoulder and looked at the man.

  “It’s a good thing she’s strong, then,” the elderly man said, smiling. William nodded, looking over at Michelle. She stirred a little in her sleep.

  “We’ll come back later,” Margaret said, softly. She gently caressed little Ethan’s head; the natural affection on her face touched William deeply.

  “We’ll go eat in the cafeteria for awhile, and let her rest.”

  “I’ll come get you in a bit,” William said, stand up. “Visiting hours last until eight I believe.” Margaret nodded; she gave William another kiss on his face and let Alfred escort her from the room.

  Sighing, William stood a moment by the bed, his hands in his pockets; he suddenly wished he was a painter, so he could capture the serene scene in front of him. It was not secret to him why some master artists had chosen a mother holding her baby as models; the natural affection represented clenched at the heart and brought a smile to one’s face. He stood there, feeling grateful Michelle had come through the ordeal of childbirth alright, and that his son was apparently perfectly healthy.

  “Thank you, God,” he whispered, smiling benevolently down on his wife and child.

  A soft sigh brought William from his reverie. Michelle’s eyes opened and she yawned, looking around a little. She saw William and smiled.

  “Hello,” she said, softly; her eyes were bright and warm again, a little more color in her face. William smiled at her, sitting down on the chair; he scooted it forward so they could sit as close as possible.

  “Hello, love,” he replied, “You look a little better.” He clasped one of her slender hands and brought it to his lips.

  “I feel ok…” Michelle said. “Just tired.” Her eyed drifted down to the sleeping babe in her arms. “Ethan,” she said, softly. “Is he perfect or is it just me?” William’s chuckle made her look back up. Her husband’s blue eyes radiated warmth.

  “It’s just you,” William said, teasingly. “He’s rather like a pale raisin, really...”

  Michelle made a face and jabbed her man slightly in his ribs with her finger. Laughing, William confiscated her hand and kissed it. “I’m joshing you, love,” he said, smiling at his wife. “When I saw him first, I thought he was just gorgeous. I cannot explain it really; I’ve seen babies before but he is adorable.” Michelle’s eyes grew soft at his words; William’s face fairly shone with pride and affection as he gazed at the baby.

  “I know what you mean,” she said, gently. “I think it’s because he’s ours.” William slid his arm behind Michelle’s shoulders, leaning close to her face.

  “I think you are right,” he said. “While you were sleeping I was mulling over how it will be to watch him grow up... him and the others.” Michelle giggled, a little tiredly.

  “Just give me a few months before we try for more...” she said, smiling up at her man. William kissed her face. There was no real way to convey the tenderness of his feelings at the moment; a little over a year ago, he’d been a lonely workaholic with only an aging valet for company. Now held his wife and newborn son in his arms, feeling completely unable to express his gratitude.

  “I’m very happy,” was all he said. His wife regarded him with her odd, lovely eyes; William saw real trust and affection in them.
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  “So am I,” said she. William could think of no better answer than to kiss her. Michelle did not mind; to her, thought his kiss far outweighed entire sonnets of prose.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  A lone figure stood on a section of white-sanded coastline, looking out over the Pacific Ocean; pensive gray eyes took in the scene of the blue-gray water endlessly washing up over the sand. A cool breeze blew, tempering the warm rays of the California sun. The man looked down at his watch; smiling, he turned away from the water, stepping over towards a beach blanket carefully laid out, by a wide umbrella and several chairs.

  Taking off his sandals the man grabbed a short shovel and began digging up the sand, making a large, high pile. As soon as he had enough dug up, the man set down the shovel; carefully, he began forming the sand with his hands. Several pedestrians and beach-combers walked by the half-formed sandcastle, smiling at the sight of a grown man in the sand, fashioning towers and ramparts.

  Glancing up, Oscar Maclane saw a familiar blond-haired Englishman walking along the beach; a young woman with dark red-brown hair walked by his side, with a little baby in her arms. Dusting off his hands, Oscar stood, smiling broadly. He put up a hand in greeting; William returned it, walking his family closer. Michelle looked beautiful in the sunlight, her face alight with happiness; she held a squirming little bundle in her arms. The baby was trying valiantly to remove a tiny, canvas sun hat that had been tied on under the little chin.

  “Uncle Oscar,” his niece said, giving the gray-eyed man a kiss on his cheek. “It is so good to see you.” Oscar smiled at her.

  “Glad you could make it,” he said. He grinned at William, shaking the man’s hand. “You too, sport.” William chuckled.

  “Thank you for the invitation,” he returned. “I must say, it is nice here in sunny California.”

  “Damn straight,” Oscar said. “It hardly rains at all, and no snow.” His gray eyes rested on the little baby in Michelle’s arms. Ethan had stopped wiggling and was regarding Oscar with curious, greenish-gold eyes; a little wisp of blond hair showed from under his hat. “Well he’s your spittin’ image, William.”

  “Indeed,” William said, grinning. “However, he did get his mother’s lovely eyes.”

  Oscar bent down a bit, smiling at the little mite.

  “Hey there Ethan,” he said, leaning closer. “I’m your Great Uncle Oscar.” The baby boy regarded Oscar a moment, then reached out a little hand and grabbed the man’s sunglasses from off the top of his head. William laughed; Michelle tried to get the glasses from her son’s tiny fist, while her uncle looked on.

  “You have to watch him,” William warned. “He’ll have your watch or anything he fancies before you can say ‘Jack Robinson’.”

  “He’s one sharp cookie,” Oscar said, still smiling. “Got some Gregory in him after all.” He accepted his glasses back, matching glares with the little baby. “Come on, I’ve got an umbrella, some cold drinks and chairs over here.”

  “Sounds wonderful, thank you,” Michelle returned, with a smile. William stepped over to his wife and relieved her of the little kleptomaniac.

  “Come here young man,” he said. “You need a talking to.” The baby looked up at his father and crowed out ‘Da!’ Michelle laughed softly, walking away towards the umbrella.

  “No arguments, you,” William told his son; as if he knew he was in trouble, Ethan displayed an adorable smile, showing off his single, tiny tooth. “Little bugger.” William murmured, affectionately. He followed after Michelle, noting the sandcastle construction to one side. “Quite an engineering project there, Oscar.” he remarked, handing the baby to his mother.

  “Beaches and sandcastles are synonymous,” Oscar said, kneeling down in the sand once more. He tossed a small trowel at William’s feet.

  “There’s room for one extra crew member,” he said. William grinned.

  “Don’t mind if I do,” he said, getting down in the sand. Michelle smiled, watching the men build different sides of the sand structure, obviously enjoying themselves.

  "I saw your picture in the magazine last month," Oscar said, suddenly. He looked up at Michelle. "You know, the one with the raindrops on the window." Michelle smiled.

  "Thank you," she said. "I was inspired to draw it by your crew member there." William winked at her as she glanced over at him. "It's one of my favorites," she continued. "I didn't want to let the gallery have it, but well... it is nice to see it on the wall with my name underneath it."

  Oscar smiled at her and looked back down at the sand.

  "It was very good," he said. "Made me almost miss the rainstorms. Almost." Laughing, Michelle nodded.

  "I can see why you love it here," she remarked. "It's beautiful."

  The waves crashed on the sloping shore; birds cried in the sky as they flew over the sand. People walked by looking at the ocean, apparently enjoying the warm sand beneath their feet. Sighing, Michelle smiled down at her wiggling son, letting him down onto the blanket. Ethan immediately crawled over to the sand, grabbing a big handful. About to stop him, Michelle heard William chuckle.

  “Let him, love,” her man told her. “He’ll find out soon enough.” He was right. Ethan took a mouthful then whined and shook his little head a few times. Trying not to laugh, Michelle helped her son get the sand out of his mouth.

  Glancing at William, she smiled, watching him form a turret. Her husband sat on the sand with one knee up, the other leg extended out comfortably. Studying him, Michelle appreciated William’s relaxed posture, as well as the faint beginnings of a tan on his face, neck and arms. His fitted, white t-shirt and khaki cargoes made him look a little more 'fun' than his normal business attire. Letting Ethan back down onto the blanket she straightened her sun-dress and sat back in a low, fold-out chair.

  The baby crawled back out to the edge of a blanket but did not eat the sand again. Instead the little marplot busied himself with trying to get the drink-cooler open, hitting it impatiently when he did not succeed. A seagull flew down, landing on the sand near the blanket. Ethan was transfixed by the bird and soon the two were locked in a strange kind of staring contest. Laughing under her breath, Michelle dug in her tote bag for her camera and snapped a few pictures.

  While smoothing a large outer sand wall, William glanced up at his wife and son. He chuckled at the sight of his baby boy locked in a death-gaze with a seagull. His wife--on the other hand--was happily sitting in the shade taking pictures. She looked rather comely in the summery dress; its thin straps threatened to slip off her shoulders each time she moved. Williams admired her hair, pushed back from her face by the sunglasses perched on her head; it spilled over her shoulders in slight waves, the redness much more apparent in the strong light. The sun had also brought a little more color to her cheeks. William watched her, until he heard someone clear their throat nearby.

  “You’re going to have a lot of kids, you keep looking at her like that,” Oscar commented, grinning to himself. William glanced at the man, amused.

  “You’re not far off,” he informed the man. “Michelle’s about a month along with our second.”

  Oscar stopped his work on a large interior building and matched William’s gaze. “She wants a large family--as well--so don’t worry,” William continued.

  “You guys sure don’t waste any time,” Oscar said, returning to his ‘work’. “I’ll give you that.”

  “I don’t think any man would blame me,” William said, his eyes straying back to his wife. “Michelle is quite a catch.” Oscar did not answer but smiled at the sand. He still remembered what it felt like to love a pretty woman.

  Michelle felt William’s scrutiny almost at once. She shot him a bright smile. William grinned back at her. Michelle grabbed a cold water bottle from the cooler tossed it at her husband’s feet; her eyes held the slightest bit of a challenge. A few seconds later William flopped down on the blanket next to her chair.

  “You look lonely over here, love,” he said, pushing up his sunglas
ses. “Want to go for a walk?”

  “Yeah, go. I’ll watch my grand-nephew,” Oscar piped up from by the sand-castle. “You two go walk a bit.” Michelle was dubious.

  “Are you sure?” she said, looking over at Ethan; the baby had lost interest in the bird and was back attacking the drink cooler. Oscar grinned and stood up; he walked deliberately over to the baby, lifted him up and placed him in the middle of the sand-castle. The sand buildings were about as tall as Ethan’s head as he sat in the sand. For a moment, the baby seemed puzzled, but he soon reached out and pushed a tower over. It toppled dramatically, scattering sand. Crowing with delight Ethan crawled forward, pushing over another sand building. Baby laughter bubbled up, its infectious qualities inducing Oscar to join in.

  “You go,” he said, waving them off. “We’ll hold down the fort.”

  William stood up and dusted off his pants. Holding out his hand to Michelle, he favored her with a charming smile. She let him pull her up to stand. They strolled away from the distracted Ethan and castle building Oscar at a leisurely pace.

  “Who knew he was a natural babysitter?” Michelle asked, smiling. William looked down at his wife, liking the spark of life in her eyes.

  “It boggles the mind,” he said, letting his eyes peruse Michelle’s face. “Did I mention you look unduly attractive in that dress? You’re positively glowing.” Michelle blushed.

  “It’s the baby,” she said, her hand going automatically to her stomach. “Or, maybe it’s the fact that I’m walking next to the most handsome man on the beach... or both.” Grinning, William put her arm through his.

  “Minx,” he said. “I’ve half a mind to carry you off.” Michelle laughed, softly.

  “You already did,” she replied. “But, you can do it again. I’d let you.”

  Smiling at her, William strolled with his lady along the shore, letting the cold water spill over their feet occasionally.