“I was making you breakfast in bed,” she informed him cheerfully.
He glanced over her shoulder at the evidence that, indeed, he had interrupted her in the middle of preparing food.
With the knowledge of her intentions and understanding that her earlier disappointment was not directed at him, Nate didn’t know what to do. Nate was not the kind of man who didn’t know what to do and he didn’t like it.
No woman had made him breakfast in bed, no woman had even made him breakfast. Not a single one of his lovers had done anything for him, given him a present, brought over a bottle of wine or prepared dinner for him. They were happy for him to buy dinner, presents, even holidays but the women in his life were used to being taken care of, being spoiled. Nate had played the game mainly because if he didn’t, they’d turn whiny and demanding. He’d learned it made life far more peaceful and furthermore, he could afford it.
This was an entirely new experience.
Lily seemed not to notice his surprise.
“Once I got started, though, I didn’t know what to do. You never remark on your food, say what you like. You just… eat.” Her smile hadn’t faltered, in fact, her voice sounded almost teasing. She gently pulled away from him and threw her arm out towards the food on the counter. “I decided bacon, eggs and toast was my best bet. Everyone likes bacon, eggs and toast. Then I realised I don’t even know how you like your eggs!”
She laughed softly, finding this amusing and came back to him, casually putting her arms around his waist again and resting her entire torso heavily against his tightened chest.
“You know, I feel like I’ve known you for years but I’ve really only known you a few weeks. Isn’t that funny?” She drooped her shoulders and tipped her head back to stare up at him with her extraordinary eyes, the blue so clear, so deep, so open, Nate felt lost in them.
Lost in her eyes, lost in her mood, lost in Lily, so lost, he didn’t answer.
“So,” she whispered, “how do you like your eggs?”
Her question took him away from his silent contemplation of her. She sounded as if his answer meant everything in the world to her.
He looked warily down on her, his body tight, not knowing whether to give into the relief he felt at her new attitude or worry at what she was hiding behind it.
“I’ll like them any way you cook them,” he answered, noncommittal.
Something he could not read flashed in her eyes, something that looked strangely like determination and her arms tightened about his waist.
“Scrambled?” she asked.
“That’ll be fine,” Nate replied.
Her smile came back. “How about fried, do you like that better than scrambled?”
“Either,” he answered.
“Poached?”
“Fine.”
At this, her eyes lit and she shook her head and laughed, her entire body vibrating with it. For a second she dropped her forehead against his chest, giving in to her bizarre moment of amusement then she flipped her head back again, nearly clipping his chin. She lifted her hands to either side of his face, pulling it to hers and she stunned him further by kissing him briefly, the laughter still on her lips. She hadn’t touched him of her own accord outside of bed since they’d been reunited.
“What am I going to do with you?” she mumbled, clearly not wanting an answer as she carried on, her voice very soft. “How do you like eggs best, Nate? Please tell me.”
This trivial piece of information did mean something to her and he sighed then responded, “Poached.”
Both of her hands went straight up in the air as if she was calling a goal in an American football match. With this gesture, her back arched, pressing her front closer against him.
“Success!” she cried happily and loudly, her face alight with triumph and Nate felt the brittle edge go off his morning at the sight. Then an instant later her face fell dramatically and she exclaimed, “Oh no!”
“What is it?” he asked.
“I don’t know how to poach an egg.”
It was then that Nate started laughing, all tenseness gone, the edge smoothing out and his arms tightened around her as her hands dropped to hold him at either side of his neck. She leaned up and kissed him again.
“Never fear,” she declared, pulling away from him and turning, all business, toward the counter, “I saw someone do it on a cookery programme once. I think you have to get the water going in some kind of centrifugal thingie-ma-bobbie and crack the egg in it. I’ll figure it out.” She opened the bag of bread.
Nate allowed himself a moment to let his relief show. He allowed it because, with her back to him, Lily couldn’t see it. She seemed so happy, so much the old Lily he wanted time to revel in it. He reached out and pulled her back into his arms, burying his face in the hair at the side of her neck.
It wasn’t often that Nate felt hope so when he did, he knew it was a precious thing.
And at that moment, he felt hope.
Not a forever kind of hope. Tat hope, he knew, didn’t exist, but a hope for now.
“Nate?” She was pulling slightly away in an effort to see his face but not get out of his arms. “Is something the matter?”
He lifted his head and kissed her nose. “Nothing.”
Again, something flashed in her eyes but instead of her face closing off as it normally did when he didn’t give her the answer she wanted, she leaned back into him. The midnight blue in her outer irises had moved in towards the pupil.
“Now that we have breakfast semi-sorted, perhaps you’ll give me a good morning kiss?” she prompted softly, her voice timid but her eyes were inviting.
This wasn’t the old Lily. This wasn’t even the new Lily.
This was an altogether unknown Lily.
She’d never asked for a kiss before and Nate didn’t need to be asked twice.
Both Fazire and Victor arrived in the kitchen at the same time interrupting a good morning kiss that had become pleasantly heated.
“Sorry, sorry… we’ll come back.” Victor edged back out when Nate reluctantly lifted his mouth from Lily’s and turned his gaze to the two men.
“I’ll not come back!” Fazire grouched, flagrantly ignoring the scene he’d just interrupted and stomping in. “I need coffee immediately.”
Lily pulled away from Nate and approached her friend.
“Fazire!” She grabbed Fazire by the cheeks and pulled his head to her, tipping it down and kissing it on the top. “Nate likes his eggs poached,” she imparted this on her friend as if she’d just been the first to decode the enigma machine.
After he was released, Fazire looked from Lily to Nate and back to Lily. He shrugged his disinterest in the news and went to the coffeepot.
Nate leaned his hip on the counter and nodded to his father who straggled in wearing his pajamas and a dressing gown.
“Who made this?” Fazire demanded to know, he was holding the coffeepot aloft and staring at Nate angrily deciding Nate had to be the culprit, his lip curled in disgust.
“I did,” Lily answered, busily lining bacon on the grill pan.
At Lily’s admission, Fazire wasn’t deterred in his ire.
“It looks like water,” Fazire accused, transferring his angry eyes to her.
“It does not look like water. Just because you can’t chew it, Fazire, doesn’t mean it isn’t any good.” She tossed her head and looked over her shoulder at Victor who had decided to seat himself at the kitchen table to watch the show. “Fazire likes his coffee strong.”
“I gathered that,” Victor commented.
Lily threw a startlingly bright smile at Victor and went back to work. Even though she’d turned her back to him, Victor stared at her in frozen wonder for a moment then his eyes slid to Nate.
Then Nate’s father smiled and slowly he winked at his son.
* * * * *
That evening, after Victor and Laura had gone, Fazire had disappeared to his room and Nate had listened to Tash reading before he tucked her in to slee
p, Nate had gone to find Lily.
She was sitting in the sun room in a new wicker lounge with a bright blue cushion edged in a soft beige, her legs curled beneath her, her head bent, reading a book. Mrs. Gunderson was sleeping in a tight cat body curl next to her.
With Nate’s money and Lily’s choices, everything in the room was of far better quality and vastly improved style. The furniture was wicker, woven plump with thick, dark reeds. The windows had been replaced with timber framed, double-glazed, sparkling panes. The walls had been repainted in clean linen and large potted palms were placed attractively around the room. The day outside was grey but the room had a soft glow from lamps with bulbous, beige bases with crisp shades sitting on wicker tables by the lounge and in between the two chairs opposite it. A square, glass-topped, wicker table sat in the centre of the arrangement holding a huge crystal globe vase filled high with irises.
Nate felt a sense of satisfaction seeing Lily sitting there peacefully reading with her cat. It was the kind of room Lily should be in, expensive and elegant and it was the kind of thing Lily should be doing, reading and relaxing, not running around taking care of everyone.
He’d been studying her for some moments when she sensed him, her head coming up and her face, which had been concentrating on her book, relaxed into a small smile.
“Is Tash sleeping?” she asked.
Nate felt something uncurl inside him at her simple question. It wasn’t important; it wasn’t profound, just a mother asking a father if their child was sleeping.
Yet, to Nate, it was the most intimate question anyone had ever asked him.
“Yes,” he answered.
Lily put her bookmark in her book and set it aside but she didn’t rise.
“She loves to read to you, I think it’s the highlight of her day.”
Nate made no verbal response but that thing unfurling in his chest loosened further upon hearing her remark.
Finally he spoke. “I don’t want to interrupt your reading.” She shook her head to indicate she didn’t mind and he continued. “I’ve been meaning to tell you that tomorrow morning we have an appointment at the Registry Office to begin the process –”
He didn’t finish as suddenly Lily hurled herself out of the lounge and across the short space and threw herself bodily at him, rocking him back on his heels. Mrs. Gunderson went flying on an angry cat meow at her rapid movement.
Lily’s arms went around his shoulders and with a little hop, her legs went around his hips and he reflexively put his hands under her bottom to hold her steady against him.
She was pressing her cheek against his and holding him tightly.
“What’s this?” he whispered into her ear.
Her head jerked back and she looked at him, her eyes bright and tears were glimmering at their bottom edges.
“You said in Alistair’s conference room you were going to marry me but then you didn’t say anything about it again. You said two months. It’s been nearly a month already!” He had no chance to respond to her overwhelming reaction as she went on excitedly. “We’ll fix a date tomorrow, yes?” she asked and he nodded, finding himself pleased by her extremely positive response.
She leaned into him and again put her cheek against his.
“I have so much to do! I have to find a dress and Tash needs a dress. And we have to get invitations.” Her head jerked back and she looked at him again, all sign of tears were gone, her eyes were alight and dancing. “A small wedding? In the Registry Office?”
At her question, he nodded again and with a soft pull, she released her legs from his hips and he let her go. He watched as she kept talking excitedly and walked around the room, turning off the lamps.
“Fazire will need something to wear and then there are flowers. I think peonies, Mom loved peonies. It’s the Indiana state flower, did you know that?” She didn’t look at him as she asked the question, nor did she wait for a response.
“We’ll need a photographer. I don’t want one of those Nazi photographers that take seventeen hours to pose all the photos. It should be a fun day. We should be drinking and eating, not spending all our time having our pictures taken. What do you think?”
Before he could answer, she stopped and jerked erect after turning off the second lamp.
“I know! Fazire can take the photos!” She clapped her hands in front of her excitedly and Nate remembered her doing precisely the same thing when he’d given in to her motorcycle ride on their first and only date. The sight of it made his chest expand in a way he’d never felt before, it was warm, it was pleasant and he had no idea what it meant. He had no idea that it heralded contentment and security, two things he’d never felt in his life.
He had not even come into the room and was still standing in the doorway. He leaned against its jamb and continued to watch her.
He didn’t stay very long in his position. Lily walked toward him, grabbed his hand and led him out of the room through the living room and up the stairway to their bedroom. The entire time she talked and she planned.
She asked him if he wanted dancing then didn’t wait for his answer and decided there should be dancing.
She asked him if he wanted to wear a morning suit then didn’t wait for his answer and decided that was too stuffy for a Registry Office.
She asked him if he wanted speeches then decided there must be speeches.
In the bedroom, after he’d closed their door, she turned into his arms.
“Just leave it to me. I’ll take care of everything. I’ll call in Laura and Maxie and we’ll have it sorted in no time.” She pressed her index finger in his chest. “You just need to be responsible for the honeymoon. Can you do that?”
His arms tightened and he smiled into her shining face.
“I think I can manage that.”
She tipped her face up to him and smiled.
* * * * *
Three days later, Nate was in his new Bristol office in a meeting, two of his transplanted staff seated in the chairs in front of him awaiting instructions, when the buzzer went on the phone.
When he was in a meeting, the buzzer never went on his phone.
Ever.
Nate wasn’t a cruel boss but he was a demanding one. He expected his staff to work hard and smart, to be ambitious but not greedy nor backstabbing and to be forthcoming with good ideas and constructive criticism. He rewarded them for these things. The more of them they demonstrated, the better they demonstrated them, the larger the reward.
If they failed to demonstrate them, they were gone.
He was not friendly with his staff. He didn’t take them out for drinks. He didn’t buy them Christmas presents although he did give them generous Christmas bonuses. He didn’t share his personal life with a single soul in the office or out of it, for that matter. He did not encourage this behaviour amongst his managers and their employees either. He expected work to be work, he expected success, he expected absolute professionalism and he led by example.
He was not a doting father to a corporate family.
He was the respected, removed commander of a very tightly run corporate army that, day-after-day, achieved remarkable results.
It was his edict that he was never to be disturbed during a meeting unless it was urgent. An edict like all of his edicts that was always strictly obeyed.
Therefore, when the phone sounded, both of his staff jumped in surprise.
Nate hit a button on the phone. “Yes?”
“Ms. Jacobs for you,” His secretary, Jennifer said over the intercom, adhering to his command that any time Lily called, any time, she was to be put straight through.
Nate didn’t spare his two employees a glance (if he had, he would have seen their eyes widen in surprise), he just picked up the phone.
Lily had called him once to complain about her living room furniture being carted away.
Tash, on the other hand, called him every day when she got home from school to tell him every minuscule piece of news that she felt
might be of import which was practically every second of her day. Nate looked forward to his daughter’s calls. Natasha was talkative but clever, incredibly clever. She had at her command a great number of words, and she used them well and often, far better than people three times her age. It was clear Tash was advanced and Nate was already looking into special schools for her something, he thought vaguely, he really should discuss with Lily.
Nate had learned quickly that Tash’s calls were to come on a regular schedule and he had Jennifer clear his diary for that hour, without exception.
But Lily had only called once. There was no more furniture to be hauled away and most of the work was being completed that week. He had no idea why Lily would call and he was concerned it was not good news.
“Lily,” he greeted her.
“Hi! You busy?” she responded brightly, her light hearted tone taking him by surprise.
Nate was busy. Nate was always busy.
“No,” he replied.
There was a pause. Then she asked, “What’re you doing?” And she spoke as if she was calling just to chat, as if she did this every day.
He sat back in his chair, taken aback by this latest development that was the New Lily and finding himself wondering at her intentions.
His glance slid past his two employees who were pretending (poorly) not to listen in to their normally cold and indifferent boss’s unprecedented conversation with the unknown “Ms. Jacobs”, a woman for whom he would interrupt a meeting without even the briefest hesitation.
He ignored them.
“Working,” Nate answered.
She let out a carefree laugh then remarked, “Of course.”
“Lily, is there something –”
She interrupted him. “Tash is going to be on school holidays soon and I think we should plan a family trip.”
Nate froze at her unexpected words.
He’d had family holidays with Victor and Laura but as Victor worked constantly, they’d been few and far between. During those holidays Jeff had taken every opportunity to torment Nate in his own special way while Danielle had taken her own opportunities to torment Nate in entirely different ways.
Nate did not have fond memories of family holidays.
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