Being His

by Mac Flynn

  I heard a soft knock on my door. "It's not locked," I called to them. Steven slipped into the room and closed the door behind him. His face was pale and he was covered in sweat. "You know, you really should take your clothes off before you go swimming in the pool," I teased him.

  He walked shakily over to me and collapsed at my side. "That was the most horrible experience of my life," he shakily told me.

  "Oh come on, you've seen me naked," I pointed out.

  I didn't even get a speck of a smile out of him. He ran his hands through his hair and shuddered. "My mom is, well, she's not sure about you."

  "I kind of noticed," I mumbled.

  Steven cringed, and I felt bad for being so blunt. "That noticeable, huh?"

  I snorted. "We girls can sense when there's danger. It's like the other five senses, but you need breasts to have it." That joke fell flat with him, too, so I rubbed my hand along his back. He purred like a kitten and became putty in my paws. "Maybe your parents just need time to get to know the me that's beneath the clothes and unnecessary fifty pounds. Nicole seems to like me."

  That got a smile on his face. "She does seem fond of you," he agreed. "I've never seen her take to any of my other girlfriends like she has to you."

  "I'll take that as a compliment and ignore the remark about other women in your life," I graciously replied.

  He glanced up at me with a raised eyebrow. "Getting jealous?"

  I held out the ring he'd given me. "No, but they are."

  Steven swung around and pushed me down against the bed covers. He swung his leg over me so he straddled my waist, and leaned down so his lips brushed against my ear. "I could make them even more jealous."

  I rubbed my nose against his. "I'm sure you could, but are the walls thick enough to keep the whole house from getting jealous?"

  I gasped when he left a hot trail of kisses down my neck. "Who cares?" he murmured.

  "You did a few seconds ago," I whispered.

  "That was a long time ago," he muttered. "Now we're alone and-" there was a knock on the door.

  Doffing's voice floated through the wood. "Master Steven, Miss Collins, lunch will soon be served."

  I wanted Steven to have me for the first course, but he sighed and rolled of me. "All right, we're coming." The soft footsteps retreated from the door; we were alone again until the next interruption.

  That was five seconds later when Nicole peeked in. "Hurry up or I'm feeding everything to Trudy!" She slammed the door and raced off down the hall.

  "Maybe we should find ourselves a nice train station to have some fun time," I quipped. "And did she really mean that?"

  Steven stood and offered me his hand. "I don't know, but we'd better not risk it."

  We hurried downstairs and Steven guided me to the room across the hall from the living area. In that room was a really long, wide wooden table with high-backed chairs and fine-china set at the places. The family was already seated, and I noticed the two empty seats with plates were on opposite sides of the table. I got to sit on Nicole's left with no one to my left, and Steven was placed between his mom and oldest sister. His dad was at the head flanked by Nicole and his mom. It was one big, happy family, but without the happy part.

  His mom looked constipated, Elizabeth more so, and his dad consumed a little too much alcohol from his wine glass. Nicole smiled at me and had Trudy begging between us. Those big browns eyes melted my anxiety and my naturally chipper mood returned. "So what are we having for lunch today?" I asked my hosts.

  Elizabeth glanced over me. "Roast pig," she replied.

  I could tell we were going to be great friends. Fortunately, I'd heard these jokes before and wasn't much fazed. "Hot dogs?" I asked her.

  Boy was I wrong. Old Doffing shuffled into the room with a plate of sliced ham larger than Trudy, complete with head and apple in the mouth. My mouth salivated at the juicy meat, and when my plate was full of the slices I dug in. I froze on the first bite; there wasn't something horribly wrong with it. I chewed a little more, and my mouth didn't sense the delicious fat and juices of pork. Instead it tasted soft, and the slice fell apart on my tongue. I swallowed and glanced down at the cut slice; the opening into the meat showed the tofu hidden beneath. They'd served me a lie. I cringed and gave myself more helpings of the vegetables. At least they wouldn't lie to me, and had a natural texture.

  Elizabeth noticed my aversion to the lie on my plate. "Not hungry?" she sweetly asked me.

  "I'm saving that for last," I replied.

  She pointed her knife down at my plate. "But I see you've taken a bite. How do you like our imitation-meat tofu?" she wondered.

  "It's, um, it's different," I admitted.

  "And what's different mean where you come from?" she persisted.

  I squirmed in my chair; I didn't want to tell a lie, but my brain was fogged over by the tofu and couldn't think clearly. Steven came to the rescue. "Just let it go, Elizabeth. She's our guest, remember?" he bravely interceded on my behalf. I perked up; he was my knight in shining armor.

  Elizabeth raised an eyebrow; apparently she wasn't used to him biting back at her. "I was just asking how she appreciated our animal-conscious meal. It was very smart of mother to put us all on this diet of grains and vegetables."

  The color drained from my face; this trip was turning into a nightmare of epic proportions. Steven scowled at his younger sister. "Maybe not all of us think the same way about animals as you do," he countered.

  "That's quite enough out of both of you," Helen spoke up. That cowed both my enemy and my knight; before his mother's wrath the paint on his white armor peeled back to reveal yellow. "We will have no more discussion of the food placed in front of us. It is healthy and tasteful, and no other will be served." She glanced at me at the last part; that meant no getting out of the tofu meals.

  The rest of the lunch was quiet and uncomfortable. Walter imbibed more wine than was good for him and tottered off for a nap, and Nicole played with her food and snuck most of it to the dog. Helen asked Elizabeth about all her accomplishments, from playing the piano to corporate finance. They tried to get me to join, but I stuffed tofu into my mouth and feigned chewing. You don't chew that stuff so much as push it down your throat with your tongue. Steven sat stiffly by my side and didn't say another word.

  When I'd finished my plate, I grabbed Steven's arm and dragged him from the table. There were a few things I wanted to talk to him about.

  CHAPTER 3

  I marched him to the backyard with all the delicacy of a jailer dragging an inmate to their cell. He tried to escape several times, but this ma'am wasn't about to let him go until we were far enough from the house not to be overheard. We walked along the winding river-stone path and past several clumps of trees for twenty yards before I released him on bail and folded my arms across my chest. "Is there anything you want to tell me before we have children?"

  Steven blinked, and his eyes whipped down to my stomach. "You're not-?"

  "No, but I want to know about any medical conditions the baby might have before we start having them," I comforted him.

  He breathed a sigh of relief. "Like what were you thinking?"

  I raised my hand and counted down three fingers. "If there's any medical conditions, insanity, or alcoholism in the family."

  Steven raised an eyebrow. "Why alcoholism?"

  I snorted. "Because your dad drinks wine like a fish drinks water. I've seen alcoholics drink less during a meal." He stared at me with a disbelieving glance, and I shrugged. "Okay, I haven't seen it, but it sounded good. Besides, Nicole told me a few things about your family, but maybe you can give me the full biographies."

  He sheepishly grinned and shrugged. "There's not much to say. We're a pretty normal family."

  "Oh, I doubt that," I countered. "Your mom has a thing for tofu, your sister Elizabeth is the perfect model for a Bond villain, Nicole is crazy, and your father really likes his wine."

  "See? Not much more to say than that," Stev
en countered.

  "Nicole also said your parents wouldn't like me because of the way I look," I added.

  He stepped back, cupped his chin in his hand and looked me over. "All of you looks fine to me," he complimented.

  "I think the problem is there's a lot there to look fine," I explained to him. "Your parents wanted you to bring home somebody thin and pretty like Elizabeth, didn't they?"

  Steven sighed and nodded. "I'm afraid so, or at least my mom was, but don't let that get you down."

  "So they're really nice people underneath all those overpriced clothes?" I guessed.

  He smiled, and wrapped an arm around my shoulders. "Yep, even Elizabeth."

  I snorted. "I'll need a shovel or a backhoe to find the goodness buried in that one," I quipped.

  "But you'll try?" he insisted.

  I grinned and gave a peck of a kiss on his lips. "I've got more to lose by not trying than by trying," I pointed out. "And I'm not letting you go just because you have a crazy family."

  At that moment footsteps crunched along the gravel walkway, and we both turned to find Elizabeth headed in our direction. She had that sickly-sweet smile on her face, the one a cat makes in front of a birdcage. "There you two are. I thought perhaps you'd run away, but then I remembered running isn't exactly somebody's strong suit."

  I plastered a smile on my face. "Only when I hear an ice cream truck," I retorted.

  Elizabeth didn't have a modest bone in her skinny body, and so was taken aback by my self-deprecating humor. Steven stepped between us to avert a world war. "Was there a reason you were looking for us?" he asked his sister.

  She made a startling request. "I haven't gotten a chance to talk to Monica alone, and was hoping you'd let her go for a little while."

  I didn't trust this setup one bit, but it would give me a chance to study her. If I got enough material from her I could do a scientific dissertation on the douche-bag and propel myself to fame. "That sounds absolutely lovely," I drawled. I wrapped my arm around hers and tugged her away from Steven. I glanced over my shoulder and waved at the confused fellow. "Ta-ta, darling!"

  I pulled her farther away from the house in case I needed a quick spot to hide the body. She was tense and every time our hips bumped into each other she cringed. I smirked and struck up a conversation. "So now that we're finally alone we can share our deepest dreams and darkest secrets."

  She wiggled her way out of my clutches and brushed off her sleeve. "To be perfectly honest-" which I suspected was the first time in her adult life, "-I was curious to know about your family and friends."

  I was expecting those questions; nothing like going through someone's background to dig up dirt. I shrugged. "Oh, there's not much to tell. I don't have any family, and not many friends."

  "Friends? Really?" Elizabeth wondered. "Imaginary or real friends?"

  "Neither. They're blowup dolls," I snarkily replied. "They're full of hot air, but most people are." I made sure to glance at her as I was talking; she got the hint.

  She took my barb in stride. "No pets? I thought I saw you carrying a cage into the house."

  I filled my voice with sadness, and forlornly nodded. "Unfortunately, yes. I have a cat with claws. One day I found all my blowup dolls lying on the floor with my cat standing on top of them, meowing in triumph. He'd won my sole affection by murdering all my friends." The look of disgust on her face was priceless. I perked up and grinned at her. "But enough about my sad stories, let me hear something about you."

  That was a subject she didn't mind talking about. "Well, I graduated top of my class in both high school and college, and was the leader of several sports teams. After college I went to work for one of the finance companies in the city, and have been there ever since."

  "That was a, um, a very linear life story," I complimented her. I needed to dig through her cold exterior to find the frigid interior, and maybe someone I could possible, remotely, second-cousin-three-times-removed relate to. "Haven't you done anything fun in-between those things?"

  Her snooty nose turned up. "What do you define as fun?"

  "Well, maybe some parties in college, or an exotic vacation on a faraway island?" I suggested. The family was probably rich enough to afford an island.

  I was surprised when Elizabeth hesitated; there was some dark, fun secret buried in her and I could see it being pulled out. That is, until we heard the banshee screech of their imperious mother. The look vanished from her face and she was back to her snooty old self.

  "Elizabeth? Monica?" Helen called.

  "Over here, Mother," Elizabeth answered back.

  Helen appeared around the bend of a grove of trees. "My goodness, how chummy you look," she commented. There wasn't any cheer in those words.

  Elizabeth quickly put some distance between us. "We were just talking about ourselves, Mother."

  "Just the subject about which I wish to speak with Monica," she informed us. I cringed; it was one thing dealing with the viper, and a totally different trouble dealing with the old dragon. "Come along, Monica. We can speak in the living room," Helen suggested.

  I grudgingly shuffled behind her back to the house and the living room. All this attention made me feel like the most popular steer at a slaughterhouse. We sat down and Helen ordered tea for us; I hated tea, but choked some down when Doffing brought it. Helen set her cup down and proceeded with the inquisition; for once it was expected. "Steven tells me you're an orphan, and that you used to work in an office."

  "Yep, I'm a tough working girl, and modest to a fault," I replied.

  That didn't crack a smile from her thin, pressed lips. "And where did you two happen to meet?"

  "At the office. He was my boss at our last place, and I worked my wily charms to attract his attention," I joked.

  She took it seriously; her eyes narrowed and her knuckles turned white as she clutched her hands in her lap. "And what sorts of designs do you have on my only son?"

  "Definitely not plaid, if that's what you're worried about, but I thought a little postmodern would look good on him," I told her. She wasn't comforted, and I sighed. "Listen, I didn't even know he was rich until we got up here."

  "How do you think he afforded his cars and suits?" she snapped at me.

  I shrugged. "He didn't show off his money with expensive cars and flashy suits, so I figured he had some money put away in the bank."

  "And if you had known he was from a wealthy family, would that have made you chase after him with even greater enthusiasm?" she asked me.

  I resisted the temptation to roll my eyes, and instead stood up and spread out my arms. "Do I look like somebody who would go chasing after anybody?"

  "I must agree with you there," she grudgingly replied. I wasn't sure if this agreement was a step forward or back.

  I plopped myself back on the couch. "Besides, Steven was the one who came at me, not the other way around. I tried to warn him I was sassy and overweight, but he wouldn't listen."

  "He is a very stubborn boy," she concurred.

  We were on a roll here with the communication until there was a crash upstairs and a lot of shouting. We jumped up and Doffing hurried into the room with the speed of a lame gazelle. "There's a tussle in Miss Collins' bedroom!" he informed us.

  There was another crash and yelling. "Between what? Two pro-wrestlers?" I asked him.

  A yip told us one of the combatants, followed by a loud hiss from the other. "Trudy!" Helen shrieked.

  "Mr. Perkins!" I yelped.

  We both raced past Doffing, who shuffled along as well as he could after us. We flashed up the stairs and hit the hall to find the other members of the asylum-er, family, stood outside my open bedroom door. From the horrific noises coming from the room the battle still raged on, and the two sisters watched from the entrance.

  "Where's Trudy?" Helen shrieked.

  The poor pup must have heard his mom's voice because Trudy shot out of the room with Mr. Perkins on his tail; literally. My cat sat astride Trudy's bac
k with this ridiculously large grin on his cheeky face. Trudy yipped and howled, and sped on by us. I caught up my kitty as they flashed by, and the last that was seen of Trudy was a ruffled butt rushing down the stairs. We heard yelling from Doffing; he'd been toppled by the frightened pup.

  I was stifling my laughter when I turned around to see Elizabeth and Helen glaring at me. They acted like my cat had nearly killed their dog, rather than just psychologically scar her for life. I nervously laughed. "Cats certainly are strange creatures aren't they?" I asked them.

  Helen balled her hands into fists and shook like a leaf on weed. "They are horrendous creatures, and you will keep that thing locked up for the remainder of your time here."

  "But I'm sure I shut the door when I went down to lunch," I protested.

  Elizabeth shut the door to test out my theory; the latch was loud and clear, and chimed the death knell of my defense. "You must have carelessly left it open and Trudy smelled the cat. She tried to protect us by attacking the creature."

  "Think what a great job she'll do with intruders," I quipped. Something about Elizabeth's smug look told me there was more there than she was telling us.

  "Trudy is a purebred, and not meant for such violence," Helen argued. She pointed a quivering finger at my door. "Now lock that beast in the room!"

  "I don't have a key," I reminded her.

  Doffing straggled up the stairs. "I have a key, Miss Collins," he offered. He handed me the key, and everyone watched as I deposited Mr. Perkins in the room, stepped back out into the hall, and locked the door behind myself.

  Helen gave a firm, approving nod; I felt like I'd just committed a mortal sin. "And keep your door locked at all times," she ordered me.

  The imperious matriarch with her daughter by her side marched downstairs. Nicole slid beside me, and when she spoke her voice was a whisper of its usual self. "Your cat was framed," she informed me.

  "You know what happened?" I whispered back.

  She nodded and glanced around. "Not here, though. Let's get inside your room." We hurried in and sat down on the bed where Mr. Perkins purred us to his heart's content; the little fellow was glad he'd protected my things from the vicious dog. Once Nicole knew we were safe she spilled the beans like a coffee addict making their first cup in the morning. "It was a sunny day a lot like this one-"