Authors: Meredith Greene
“I don’t need a camerafied, web-browsing, photo-shopping, gamer phone,” she said, folding her arms. William laughed at her stubbornness.
“Let me get what I want for you or I’ll get you a silver-plated diamond chip phone like Miss Hilton has,” he warned, grinning at her. Michelle sighed with frustration.
“Fine,” she acquiesced. “Just get some insurance in case it’s stolen.”
“I think you need an iPod, too...” William said, stopping by a display. Michelle’s brow darkened, making her fiancé grin.
“I’d never use it,” she said, firmly. “I have a CD player and I like that just fine.”
“We’ll see,” her man said, taking her arm.
They rode back to his office in a taxicab; most of the time riding was spent programming the phone with various important phone numbers and selecting a ring tone; William managed to get Michelle’s ire up by picking a hip-hop song.
“No self-respecting young lady has ‘Come Getcha Sugar’ as their ring tone,” Michelle said, firmly. William laughed hard at her annoyed expression; he leaned back against the seat. It was so much fun to tease her.
“I know love,” he said, smiling. “It’s hilarious to get a reaction from you. No hip-hop then. Here’s a respectable Debussy piece. What say you to that, my lady?” Michelle poked his shoulder playfully.
“You’re a tease, William Montgomery,” she said, trying not to smile. William lifted an eyebrow at her and
gave her phone back.
“I think you like it, Michelle,” he said, in a low tone. His fiancé blushed; no other answer was needed. William leaned over and smelled her hair; the action was fast becoming his favorite pastime. She smelled so good, like faint flowers and her soft, sweet skin. He closed his eyes and sat back. “Well... what are you doing for the rest of the day?”
“Cramming for my final exam on ‘relativity’,” Michelle replied, smiling. “And making sure the decorating is finalized and calling about twenty other people. Really, I had no idea a simple wedding could be so darn complicated.” William chuckled.
“Good luck,” he said, kissing the top of her head. “It will be worth it, love.” Michelle looked up at him lovingly.
“It already is,” she said. “Thank you for the phone, by the way.” William winked at her as the cab drew up in front of his office building.
“It was more a gift for me, love, but you’re welcome,” he said, getting out. “I’ll see you tonight for dinner at my flat. My mother will be arriving around four, I think.”
Michelle nodded at him, slowly.
“I’ll be there,” she said, biting her lip. “I’ll miss you ‘til then.” William gave her a look that told her he thought similarly. The cab drove off, in the direction of the Waldorf. Although the amount to yet accomplish still weighed on her, Michelle felt light; two days and she’d be William wife.
“Mrs. Montgomery,” she said, aloud. “Michelle Montgomery.” The name sounded well; she felt proud that it would soon be hers.
A LITTLE before 4 pm, Michelle walked out of the elevator on William’s town home floor. She carried a bunch of pale-pink roses and gifts for Margaret and Alfred. Knocking on the door, Michelle stood and smiled for the peephole. Alfred opened the door with a grin.
“He really should teach you the code,” the elderly man said. Michelle gave him the flowers and a kiss on the cheek.
“For your table, Alfred,” she said, following him in.
“Thank you, my dear,” he said, amiably. “How very sweet of you. They will look quite well alongside the butternut squash and asparagus soufflé, I think.” Michelle smiled and gave him another package.
“And that is just for you,” she said, taking off her coat; she hung it up on the coat-hook while Alfred opened his gift.
“I say... Coulommiers cheese!’ he said, beaming. “Wherever did you find this?”
“A farm outside Paris that produces them has an Internet site; you can order them right from the Web,” Michelle explained, smiling.
“You don’t say,” the elderly man said, impressed. Peeling away the sealant tape, he lifted the lid of the box and gave an expert sniff. His smile widened. “Packed in ash... utterly perfect. I have just the right light Bourgogne to serve with this...” Alfred walked off towards the kitchen, carrying the roses under one arm; as he walked the aging valet smelled the delicious cheese and talked to himself.
“Who’s arrived? Is that Michelle?”
A familiar voice sounded out from the living room. Michelle walked in the den and found Margaret sitting among several photo albums on the long, white couch. The lady stood up smiling, and gave her a warm hug and kissed her cheek; Margret’s eyes were bright with fondness. Michelle felt moved her kind expression.
“You look so well, my dear!” Margaret told her, sitting back down. She moved a large photo album from the couch and indicated Michelle to sit.
“How excited you must be! I know I am and I’m not even the bride.” Smiling at her, Michelle sat down; she took out a small box and gave it to her future mother-in-law.
“It’s just a little thank-you for your kindness,” she said, smiling. Opening the small package, Margaret
saw a spa pass for the morning of the wedding. She looked at Michelle with bright eyes.
“What a lovely idea! A spa appointment the before the ceremony…” Margaret read the little card with obvious approval. “How clever to have foot massages and a pedicure right before, to calm our nerves; oh... that sounds lovely!”
“I can’t take credit for the idea,” Michelle said, smiling; she was relieved Margaret liked the gift. “My uncle’s assistant Laurel suggested it as a way to say ‘thank you’; she’ll be joining us that morning.” Margaret patted the back of Michelle’s hand.
“I appreciate it my dear. I’d like to meet this young lady,” she said, smiling at the spa card again. Michelle smiled secretively.
“Uh… is Sophie coming to the wedding?” she asked, casually. Margaret nodded.
“Yes, she has some business to attend to the day before, but she’ll be here in plenty of time; she wants to make sure Luca meets a nice girl at the...”
Margaret stopped talking as she encountered Michelle’s expression. The lady smiled and leaned forward a little. “What do you know?” she inquired, pointing her finger at her future daughter-in-law. Michelle bit her lip to keep from laughing.
“I think Luca has actually fallen for Laurel,” she said. “Please don’t say anything, but Sophie will be very happy; she‘s a really sweet, smart and thoughtful young lady.” Margaret clapped her hands and looked really pleased.
“Oh, now I really want to meet her! I’m so glad. Sophie was beginning to pout with jealousy over my boy getting engaged. She wants grand-babies too, you know.” At this, Michelle blushed.
“Mother...” came a dark voice from behind and above them.
Both women turned to see William standing behind the couch, looking narrowly at his mum. “I warned you about the ‘G’ word, didn’t I?”
“My apologies, my boy,” Margaret said, smiling brightly. “Slip of the tongue, you know.” William snorted and turned his attention to Michelle. She felt her face warm up and distracted herself by picking up one of the photo albums. William’s eyes widened at the sight of it.
“Margaret was just going to show me these...” Michelle started to say. The book was unceremoniously plucked from her hands.
“None of that,” William said, firmly. “These must go right back where they came from.” His mother began to object but William silenced her with a look. Margaret hid a smile and packed the albums away for later use.
Taking Michelle by the hand, William led her into the hallway and gave her a proper greeting. After a moment, he stopped himself and rested his forehead lightly against Michelle’s; they gave into a few seconds of mutual eye-gazing.
“Don’t mind my mother with the whole grand-babies thing, love,” he said, after a moment. Michelle smiled; she did not look offended.
“You don’t seem to mind talking about babies,” she said, softly. And odd look crept into her eyes and William suddenly felt very warm; he narrowed his eyes at his ladylove and grinned.
“I haven’t shown you the whole house, have I?” he asked, his voice very quiet.” You haven’t seen my bedroom.” He stepped back a little and took Michelle’s hand. All of the sudden, Michelle was over his shoulder, being carried down the hall. Michelle’s eyes widened.
“William!” she whispered fiercely. “Put me down!” William answered her with a deep chuckle.
“There you two are,” Margaret said, smiling. “William, what are you doing to the poor girl?”
Reluctantly, William set Michelle down; he noted his fiancée’s red-flushed face with satisfaction and guided her back through the hall to the living room. Margaret looked at him reprovingly. “Now, you can’t tell me you were racing this time,” she said.
“True,” William said, loosening his tie. “If you ladies will excuse me a moment I must go shower and change before dinner.” He winked at Michelle and walked back down the hall to his room. Michelle had never been so tempted to follow someone down a hall. Margaret pulled slightly on Michelle’s arm.
“My dear, I think you’re staring,” she said, kindly. Blushing, Michelle went to sit with her in the living
room once more.
They chatted about the wedding plans and the past weeks’ events until William emerged. Michelle did not meet his gaze, but he grinned at her anyway.
“I believe Alfred has a matter to consult you on in the kitchen, my dear madam,” he said. Margaret was not fooled but went anyway, smiling to herself. Flopping next to Michelle on the couch William caught her around the waist and pulled her onto his lap.
“You...” Michelle began to say, but that was as far as she got. William had no intention of letting the moment pass him by. Humans were present in the next room over so he felt fairly secure, but at the same time a bit of stolen moment wouldn’t hurt, he reasoned. He was wrong.
“Bloody hell… it was just a kiss,” he grumbled, gently pulling away from Michelle.
“So much for being distant,” said she, a little breathlessly. William cleared his throat.
“Yes, yes... we all know I said that,” he said, a little cross at himself. He stood up, a bit painfully and helped Michelle off the couch. “Come on... let’s eat something.”
Michelle stopped him.
“You’re very honorable, sir,” she said. William saw in her eyes that she meant it. Squeezing her hand, he led her into the kitchen.
“Two days... just two more days,” William thought, ruefully. If some of his ancestors could wait a year for their brides, then he could wait two miserable days for his.
The food Alfred dished out distracted him a bit; the meal featured fall-orientated dishes prepared with the elderly valet’s signature simplicity. To Michelle’s surprise, Alfred let her help him clean up the dishes afterward.
“I should familiarize you with the kitchen, my dear,” he explained. “I am certain you’ll want to know where everything is.” Michelle nodded readily.
“Thank you... I wanted to ask but, this is still your domain,” she said, wiping a copper pot dry. Alfred chuckled.
“Yes, well... I shall be retiring back to London once Master William is married,” he informed Michelle. “I’ll get to visit my grandchildren often and enjoy the fruits of my labor.”
“That sounds wonderful, sir,” Michelle said, smiling. “Though, I do hope you’ll take a day to come to our wedding.”
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world, Miss Michelle,” Alfred said, kindly. “I hear the food will be very good.” Michelle laughed softly at this; she told him the menu. Alfred seemed to be impressed by the choices and complimented her for keeping it simple.
“Some of the best dishes on earth are made of a very few, fresh ingredients,” he said, approvingly. “I do love a good Waldorf salad, I must admit.”
The after-dinner conversation revolved around wedding this and that, especially meet-and-greet for relatives, scheduled for the following evening.
“Really Michelle, you mustn’t worry about my family,” Margaret said, sipping her tea. “They can be snobs but I’ll deal with them if they so much as look at you in the wrong way.” Michelle smiled at her.
“Thank you, Margaret,” she said, her eyes bright with mirth. “I do believe I can handle anyone now.” She felt William’s warm gaze and looked his way; he smiled at her from the other couch. A sort of pride radiated from him and Michelle felt silently emboldened by it.
“All the same,” Margaret continued, “My sister Florence really can be a pill. Her husband’s not a bad sort, but her children... really arrogant, though I hate to be severe on any of my family.” Michelle smiled at the way Margaret enunciated ‘pill’.
“I think my common Scottish relatives will counter-act them nicely,” she put in, smiling. Margaret laughed; her laugh reminded one of a clear, ringing bell.
“Oh yes! They would, wouldn’t they... yes.” She murmured something into her tea, smiling at some inner joke.
After dinner, William finally showed Michelle his workshop. It was a large room, which had once been two, William informed his fiancée; several well-kept machines, saws and tools displayed themselves with a silent pride, and workbenches lined the walls. Everything appeared neat and in order, saved a few piles of fragrant sawdust on the floor.
“I’m impressed with how tidy everything is,” Michelle remarked, walking around; she touched a workbench almost reverently.
“Yes I like things neat.” William responded, smirking. “You ought to expect that by now.” Michelle smiled at him.
“I do,” she said. She saw a pile of already-cut pieces of fine wood; the light wood had numbers penciled on them. “New project?” she said, pointing. William nodded, putting his hands in his pockets. He wanted to put them on Michelle but did not.
“Yes. Let’s head back upstairs, shall we?” he suggested. “I’ll give you a proper tour of the place when we get back from our honeymoon.” Michelle understood his meaning and blushed.
“Good idea,” she agreed, heading for the stairs.
Some minutes later, William walked Michelle down through the lobby and out to a waiting taxi.
“I think these next two days are going to be the longest of my life,” he admitted, running a hand through his hair. Michelle smiled at him, patting his arm gently.