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After The Call…

by

Malu
(goodandplenty2002@hotmail.com)

Niles drove Miss Babcock to her apartment around four o’clock that Saturday. The trip back from the cemetery was silent - as a matter of fact the Butler had spent the whole morning as silent as one can be.

They wouldn’t make it to the picnic anyway. The weather had had a 180-degree change and the day had become cold and rainy.

The police turned out to be very cooperative and the family was able to bury Eric after a short service. At the funeral his wife had cried, moaned, and all but collapsed. C.C. was crushed and somehow scared. She caught herself silently praying, repeatedly, "Please, don’t let me lose Niles, not that soon. Not ever."

The Butler had been torn up since he got the call about his friend and getting through that long, sad day had sucked him dry. The Blonde was standing there all the while, holding her umbrella, as the love of her life paid his last respects as one of Eric’s pallbearers. He was calm, but looked very distant. It was as if something had broken inside him. That wasn’t the Niles she knew… not her Niles.

-"Here." He brought her back from her reverie, handing her the keys to the apartment the second they stepped in.

-"Thank you." She said watching his face; his expression was slack. -"Are you okay?"

-"I’ve been better." His head was hanging down and the shoulders were drooping a bit - definitely not her Niles, she thought again. She fingered her pearls and cast a saddened eye on him.

He sneezed, his hair and clothes were soaking wet.

-"Niles, please, get rid of those clothes. I don’t want you catching pneumonia."

-"I think I have a migraine coming on and I feel it would be better if I got an early night. I better get going. I’ll take a shower at home."

-"Wait a minute, a few weeks ago I was in the same boat and you made me stay. Now-…"

-"And do you recall what happened in the end?"

She smiled shyly. -"Niles, I’m in no mood for sex either. You don’t need to stay the night if you don’t want to, but you left a couple of clean socks and underwear here. You give me that shirt of yours and I’ll put it in the drier. Meanwhile, I’ll tidy up the bathroom for you and you get yourself a nice hot bath, okay?"

He sighed loudly finding the idea rather inviting.

-"If you want to leave then, it’s up to you." She insisted while helping him to get rid of his damp overcoat and making it rest on the back of a chair. -"You must be freezing."

Niles rubbed at his ears a couple of times as he tried to ward off numbness. -"Now I know why Eskimos rub their noses. If they kissed with their lips, they would stick together."

She giggled. -"Just a sec…" She stopped fumbling with his wet tie and ran to her room returning moments later with a pair of hangers in her hand. -"Here, use these. I want to hang your coat next to some heat."

He stared at one hanger for a split second. -"Déjà vu?"

She walked to the fireplace turning the gas on. -"Call it pay-back."

He bitter smiled, stepped out of his shoes, and took off his socks.

She lit up the fire. -"One of the advantages of living in the penthouse." She wondered loudly.

-"I guess." He let out dryly as he unbuttoned his shirt.

Her smile froze.

-"I’m sorry, my Love. This has been a hard day and I’m exhausted." He added tenderly.

Supportively. -"I know."

He began to remove the wet fabric stuck to his skin. His upper body was all covered in goose bumps.

-"Wait... The room is still too cold. Come." She pulled him by the hand toward her bathroom and immediately turned the hot water to her Jacuzzi on full force.

He simply stood there, immobile, watching what she was doing.

From the edge of the tub she looked up at him. All she wanted was to know what lay in the deep mysterious shadows of those blue eyes.

-"What?" He said starkly.

She jumped to her feet and gently helped him with the shirt. -"Nothing. Come on, get rid of these things and dip in."

He hurriedly complied.

She hung his shirt on her shoulder as he handed his trousers and underwear over to her. -"Niles, do you think I can put your pants in the drier?"

-"I never tried that, I usually sent it to the cleaners - let me see." He checked the label. -"Yes, but put it on low."

-"Okay." She discreetly admired his body then took his hand and led him toward the bathtub. -"Your shampoo is here and over there you have some clean towels."

-"Thank you." He stepped in and slowly sat down into the warm water.

-"I’ll let you relax for awhile. If you need anything just call me, okay?"

-"Yessir." He jested.

She smiled and walked out carrying his clothes with her.

He closed his eyes feeling the tension of the day gradually easing from his body.

Minutes later she returned silently.

His head was resting on the edge of the tub, the pump was off, and he had his eyes closed.

She watched him for a second then decided to get back later.

-"Shh, where are you going?" His voice was low but loud enough to echo within the walls.

She walked back and leaned on the doorframe. -"I thought you were asleep."

He cracked one eye at her. -"I was. But I usually sleep with one eye open."

She pushed up the sleeves of her black, long turtleneck-sweater-dress to her elbows.

He extended his hand.

She offered hers and then sat on the edge of the Jacuzzi.

-"Why don’t you join me?" He jested.

She played with the hair in his forehead; some color at least had returned to his skin. -"Not today."

-"It figures, one of the side effects of Prozac is lack of sex drive."

She grabbed a big strand of his hair and pulled up.

-"Ooow!"

-"Take that back."

-"Wooo!"

She smiled feebly. -"I know you’d make good for me, Lover. But I know your brain would be someplace else."

He was serious again. -"You know me so well, don’t you?"

She kissed his head as if easing the pain away. -"Less than I’d like."

He ignored the remark, rested his neck on the edge of the tub, and closed his eyes again.

She played with his brows. -"The rain has stopped."

-"Good." He muttered.

Her cool fingers stroking his temples, soothing the pulsing vessels, making him peaceful. -"You’ll miss him, won’t you?"

-"A lot." He whispered.

She gave him a long light kiss. -"Don’t blame it on him, Niles."

He opened his eyes in a piercing look. His pupils contracted from the light. -"Blame what, on him?"

-"Whatever is broken inside here." She placed her hand over his heart. -"Suicide is neither wrong nor right; it is not a defect of character. It is simply an imbalance of pain versus coping resources."

He blinked questioningly.

-"What I mean is, try not to judge Eric, okay? It wasn’t his fault, Niles. It’s not like he was a nut, or weak, or flawed because he took his own life."

He sighed.

-"It doesn’t even mean that he really wanted to die - it only means that he had more pain than he could cope with. Suicide happens when pain exceeds resources for coping with distress."

He stared at her in silence. His eyes so blue, their color almost hurt her to look at.

-"You are a faithful friend, Niles. What also makes me crazy about you is that underneath all that swagger, and sometimes indifferent way to treat people, you wear your heart on your sleeve. The bad thing, though, is that you always expect your friends to wear their hearts in the same place."

-"All I wanted…" He hesitated. -"Why didn’t he ask for help, C.C.? I would do that."

She smiled. -"I’m sorry to disagree, Niles. You show your emotions more than the average men, alright. But you would never beg for help. You above all people? No way."

He narrowed his eyes.

-"That’s my point. People have their pride, some more some less. To make things harder, every human being is taught from childhood that suicidal people are shameful, sinful, weak…you name it. Worse yet, when people become suicidal, they apply those ideas to themselves. The stigma…the social stigma, I mean, inflicts even more pain upon them. That’s what basically stops some desperate people from seeking help. I was so lucky that Sarah was there for me. That she could actually get me out of trouble without even knowing what was going on. Remember, I told her of my intentions that night, years later."

-"Okay, you’ve got me on that one. I perhaps wouldn’t ask for help in that particular case. I would probably think, "I messed it up, I’ll clean it the best I can." But I also wouldn’t shoot myself squarely in the head."

-"Niles, it is not how bad the problem is, but how badly it's hurting the person who has it. A lot of people struggle with suicidal thoughts and feelings for months or even years. What differs you from the people who end up killing themselves is that you have, as I said last night, an inner strength or a willpower that I rarely saw in other people I met."

-"What does inner strength have to do with it?"

-"That what might be bearable to you may not be bearable to someone else. The point at which the pain becomes unbearable depends on what kind of coping resources people have. And you seem to have them in abundance. I’m sure you wouldn’t ask for help, but I bet everything that you would hang in there like a rock."

He sighed loudly.

-"Whatever the label, what I call "inner strength" is a powerful filter that you have inside of you, that protects you from anxiety. I sometimes envy that. Anxiety is usually related to fear – fear of what we’ve done in the past or of what might happen in the future."

-"I honestly don’t concentrate too much on those extremes. Besides, to me it is as if time was just an illusion. I try to live in the moment with my mind free to respond to life as it happens."

-"I know. Bort once told me that she got to the conclusion that you are a present-oriented person. She says that present-oriented people tend to have less stress."

-"What are you talking about? I recognize that I’m very flammable."

She smiled mischievously.

He arched his brow. -"I meant irritable."

She sucked at her teeth. -"Short tempered, sometimes even grumpy, but never overwhelmed or depressed, Niles."

-"Sometimes."

-"Seldom. I don’t think I ever saw you going to pieces. A personal little act, okay, but not the real deal. I know depression, dear."

-"What about last night?" A sound of worry in his voice.

-"Oh…an outburst that lasted five minutes? Sure, it worried me. But I wouldn’t call that "going to pieces," I mean, after all, the news was-…"

Interrupting her. -"I never really thought of that."

-"But I did. And there is more about you. Despite being a present-oriented person, you always live your life with a sense of positive expectation toward everything. I think most of us create a lot of the stress in our life by failing to enjoy the humor in everyday situations, not you though. Sure, it’s hard to see the bright side on a tragic event like Eric’s loss, but as I see it, you are always making lemonade out of the lemons life throws at you, I love that."

He sighed loudly again. -"I wake up in the morning always with a thought. Since my reality is actually the reality I create, or see, or decode – call it whatever you will – well, then I think, I can make my day a good day or a miserable one. It’s all up to me."

Pensively. -"Interesting point."

-"I just tell you one thing, C.C., if you’re going to see things as a problem that’s exactly what they are going to be."

-"Very interesting point." Beat. -"But there are also the little things, you know."

-"What’you mean?"

-"Besides your work, you are always reading, studying or writing. You exercise, you are active…That helps to relieve tension."

He crooked smiled.

-"Yeah, yeah, that too. Would you stop?" She propped herself up and forced his body to a quick dive.

He went down and quickly came up again.

-"You maniac." She shoved him lightly.

He chuckled, brushed his hair back with his fingers and rested his head in the same place.

She brushed some hair strands off his forehead. -"Anyway, every single person varies in his or her capability to withstand pain."

-"God, I just wish I could have helped her." His eyes vacant.

-"Her?"

-"Hm?"

-"You said her."

Uncomfortably. -"I said him."

-"The hell you said it, Niles. You said "her." Who was the woman?"

Coyly. -"What woman?"

-"You know very well, "what woman." You told me last night, remember? You lost somebody in the past and that fact still hurts you."

-"I’ve said that, haven’t I?" He sighed sadly.

Supportively this time. -"Who was her, Niles?"

-"Later, Babs. Later, okay?"

She unhappily fidgeted on the edge of the tub.

-"Hey…Hey, look at me."

She refused.

-"Look at me." He tenderly pulled her face to him.

She silently gazed in his eyes.

-"Why can’t you get it through that thick, stubborn skull of yours that I adore you, C.C. Babcock?"

-"Why don’t you tell me then-…"

-"Because…" The words came reluctantly. -"Because I can’t."

-"You can’t? Oh, please."

-"Okay, because I don’t want to; for now at least. But I will…soon…very soon."

She sighed dispiritedly.

-"I just wish I could have helped her…and Eric. They would be both here today, perhaps." There was a deep sound of pain and tragic despair in his voice.

C.C. softened. -"Niles, don’t hold yourself responsible for whatever happened to this…to this lady… I mean, regardless of what occurred in your past I’m sure you wouldn’t have been able to stop her. I feel it. The same goes for Eric. Besides, very few people wear the sign on their foreheads - "Desperation - When you rearrange the letters: A Rope Ends It"."

He showed an expression of disapproval.

-"Sorry. That was rude."

His eyes were far.

Gently. -"But what I mean by that is that there was no way for you to know."

He felt a sick helplessness in the pit of his stomach. -"But why? Why?" His voice filled with frustration.

-"Why? Why? How long is a piece of string? Why are there five syllables in the word "monosyllabic"? How is it that "Fat Chance" and "Slim Chance" mean the same thing?! Why did kamikaze pilots wear helmets? Why?"

He gazed down and his chin jutted out briefly. -"But I know I could have done more, godamnit!"

-"Niles, you’re using self-blame to get yourself an illusion of control. But trust me, that never works."

Deadpan. -"I don’t get you."

-"Niles, you hate… I know you, you hate the feeling of uselessness."

He slightly gaped at her. She sure knew him well, he thought.

-"Be honest with yourself. Imagining you could have done more is more tolerable than total helplessness, isn’t it? But it doesn’t work. This feeling of guilt will slowly eat you up inside. You are not responsible for those losses, believe me."

He stared at her seriously. C.C. had no idea, but it was the first time in years that somebody had said anything on that matter that would make any sense to him.

-"Niles?"

-"Hm? Oh, no, I’m listening to you, my love. I was just connecting things that you just said to a few things here in my mind. Go ahead."

-"Bottom line, I think you simply can’t accept Eric’s death because you’re an entirely different person. I don’t think you feel that there is anything in this world that is worth the waste of a human life, do you?"

-"You."

-"Me what?"

-"I would die for you."

She speechlessly stared at him for a second then clasped her arms around his neck. -"Don’t ever joke about that again."

-"That’s no joke."

-"Stop, Niles. What would be the purpose of living if you were gone? I don’t think I could bear it."

He made her look at him again. -"I mean that much to you?"

She half smiled. -"Yes. You mean that much to me. So don’t ever repeat that."

-"I guess you’ll have to shut me up, then."

C.C. smiled then kissed him slowly but enticingly.

He responded.

His naked body was an open invitation for her probing hands. Her mere touch always aroused him so much. Niles felt the heat rising inside the tub and broke the kiss with a moan. -"If you want to keep that beautiful dress of yours dry and intact, you better go easy, you cock-tease."

She agreed with a giggle and stood up. -"Okay, now, you stay as long as you want. I’ve got a few things to do." Her turn to wink at him.

He watched her exit the room, then closed his eyes and rested his head again. His mind, however, began to ponder over every word she had said.

Around half an hour later the Butler found C.C. resting comfortably on her La-Z-Boy, browsing through some fancy magazine with a cup in her hand. He could taste the thick, hot smell of coffee she was drinking. The fire behind her made her hair more golden than usual. -"C.C.?"

She gasped lowly.

He approached. -"I’m sorry."

-"I didn’t hear you." She made the cup rest on a table next to the chair and checked him out. He was barefoot, and had the always-proverbial towel around his waist. -"Niles, what was the good of that hot bath if you won’t stay warm?"

-"It’s cozy in here."

-"I don’t care. Come here." She swung her legs out from beneath an afghan and hopped out of the seat. -"Here." She made him sit at her place and covered him with the blanket.

He looked emotionally exhausted, dispirited.

-"Can I get you anything?"

-"How about some coffee?"

-"I’ll make you some."

-"No. I’ll take a few sips from yours."

-"Help yourself." She pointed at the mug.

He took a swig but his face frowned in disapproval.

-"What? It can’t be cold!" She saw the steam still rising from the cup.

-"It’s decaf, woman!"

-"I forgot." She smiled. -"It is…"

-"What’s the purpose of drinking coffee then?" He risked under his breath. -"It’s like eating the center of a doughnut, for Heaven’s sake."

-"Okay, Mr. Snarly! I’ll get you some regular in two minutes, okay."

-"No, I changed my mind. A nice drink would hit the spot."

-"The usual?"

-"Yes, please." He rubbed his forehead.

She got to her drink cabinet. -"Niles, besides that, I think you should eat something."

-"I don’t feel like it." He watched the fire.

-"You didn’t have your breakfast. You fixed lunch for us and you didn’t touch your plate. Then we spent the rest of the day at that funeral." She gave him his drink. -"Come on."

He felt his stomach give a leap and killed the drink in just one gulp. -"Ugh.."

-"Now you gotta eat something."

-"I don’t want anything." He frowned at the drink.

-"Please, just a bite. Plea-lea-lea-lea-leaaase!" She jested Roger Rabbit-like.

He bitter smiled. -"Okay, mother. If it makes you happy…"

-"Good. What’s it gonna be?"

-"Hum…" He thought for a second. He wanted to make sure that she would have it, and most importantly, that she would know how to prepare it. -"How about a hotdog?"

-"Yes. How many?"

-"What do you mean, "how many"? One, for crying out loud."

-"Two."

-"One."

-"Two."

He arched his brow.

-"One it is." She walked to her kitchen.

He had to admit, he liked to take care of her but the fact that he could count on her for a change was also a fascinating feeling.

Minutes later she returned carrying a tray with a beautiful hotdog in a fresh bun, a fistful of Pringles, a glass with Coke, and a napkin.

-"Dear me, this looks good."

She smiled and proudly placed the whole thing on his lap. -"Anything else? I’ve bought your favorite cheese."

-"Pepper Jack?" He let out surprised.

She nodded happily.

-"I thought you didn’t like it."

-"It’s too strong for me. But I bought it for you."

He smiled. -"Well, thank you."

-"Want some?"

-"Hum, not now, my darling. I think this will suffice." He took a first bite.

She giggled.

-"What?" He asked in between chews.

-"I saw you biting the sausage and that made me remember the day you served finger sandwiches to Frank Bradley’s son."

He narrowed his eyes not quite recalling it.

-"Ew, what idiot made these?" She mimicked Frank Jr. -"I did…and they came from a real little boy." She imitated the Butler’s voice then laughed in her throaty way. -"What a troll."

He nodded. -"The worst."

-"I meant you."

Too busy chewing to verbally respond he just narrowed his eyes in protest.

She laughed louder.

He swallowed. -"Anyway, Miss Grace told me that the brat was ejected from school a year later."

-"I don’t blame them." Getting a thought. -"Oo, I’m out of ketchup, but what about some mustard?"

-"Not necessary…Hmm, this sure tastes heavenly!"

-"Doesn’t it? It’s kosher."

Babcock into Jewish culture! He nearly choked on the food. -"K-ko-sher?"

-"Hm-mm..I learned that from Nanny Fine. It’s Hebrew National. I have no clue what they do there, but these sure taste juicy."

-"I say. Why don’t you fix yourself one?"

-"I think I will."

-"And fix me another one, will you?" He risked coyly.

Her turn to arch her brow and narrow her eyes at him. -"Niles, you are such a pain, you know that?" She planted her hands on her narrow hips.

-"Plea-lea-lea-lea-leaaase!" His turn to mimic the pop character.

She grinned. -"You got it." Then skipped gladly to her kitchen, happy to see that his appetite had returned.

C.C. cleaned up the sink and started the dishwasher a half-hour later.

Niles had been sitting in as he stared into the fire with a distant expression. -"What?" He suddenly looked up at her from the chair and spread the afghan open, inviting her to snuggle within his arms. -"I’m sorry, my love. What did you say?"

She smiled, got rid of her slippers, sat on his lap, and cuddled against him as he turned the seat to a more horizontal, comfortable position. -"I said that you looked worried about something."

-"Not really. Just distracted."

-"What are you distracted about?" Her voice was a whisper on his neck. -"Mm, this feels good." Her hand explored his chest free and easy.

He shivered lightly. -"It sure does."

In the distance the annoying sound of the dryer’s buzzer alerted them that his clothes were ready; neither of them moved however.

He sighed thoughtfully. He wanted to tell her of his main decision of taking a few days off on his own but was afraid of her reaction. His eyes lowered to her and she looked up at him. A fringe of hair stuck to her cheek. He tucked the strand behind her ear again then lowered his face slowly. Realizing his intentions, she pressed her lips closed.

-"Open it." He gibed.

-"No." She muttered between her teeth with a cute, spoiled girl type pout.

-"Open it." He insisted playfully.

-"NmNmm…" Her lips tightly shut.

His time to pout like a crybaby. -"Whyyy…?"

-"Because-…"

He didn’t let her finish. He compelled grasping her face and kissed her.

She fought him a little then became acquiescent.

-"Ahh.." He broke for air. -"Stolen kisses, always the best!"

-"You jerk." She smiled.

-"When will she ever learn?"

-"This is not fair."

-"What is not fair, my drop-dead-gorgeous witch in disguise?" He gave her a little shove.

-"You didn’t eat mustard, but I did!"

He chuckled. -"You also drank a bucket of soda; I didn’t feel a thing."

-"Serious?" She swallowed as if tasting her own mouth.

-"Serious." He shook his head in disbelief. -"Who would care, anyway, I always thought you were as keen as mustard."

-"Niles, you have the right to remain silent, so please, shut up."

He tickled her.

She reacted. -"Don’t do that!"

-"Do what?" He tickled her again.

She reacted again. -"That!"

-"She’s ticklish." He insisted.

-"Yes, but I know you’re too." She tickled him all over.

He chuckled. -"No-no! I surrender. Okay, okay." He said out of breath. -"We’re even."

-"Now, give me another kiss."

-"Hell no! You ate mustard, woman!" He jested.

She threatened to tickle him again.

-"Don’t!" He stopped her hand. -"You win." Then placed one of his legs above hers, pulled her body more snuggled to his, and watched her for a second.

She thought his eyes looked yet bluer than usual.

He dropped his head, pressed his lips lightly against hers, and ran his tongue over them. She opened her mouth.

Sensing that she wasn't going to stop him this time, he smiled at her. Before he could say anything, C.C. grabbed his face with both hands and kissed him again. Then wrapped her arms around his neck, ran her fingers through his thick hair, and pulled his head closer to her so she could kiss him more deeply. He pushed his tongue into her mouth and she moaned as he kissed her hard. His skin against her hands felt like he was on fire. His lips were soft and them being locked against hers was also making her very aroused. The Blonde started rubbing her body on his, sensuously. Niles immediately reacted to that. -"Stop." He broke the kiss with a moaning, growling noise.

-"Why?" She asked coquettishly.

-"You know darn well "why"." He looked down and saw her pert nipples pushing against her dress as if they were screaming to be let out. He hissed lowly. -"Despite the fact that I can exercise self-control occasionally, my dear, I’m still human. And with a body like yours this close to mine my moral resistance is at its lowest ebb. Now behave."

She swallowed a laugh. -"Okay, I promise."

-"Miss Babcock, you’re a hell of a kisser. Where did you learn to kiss like that?" He muttered at her ear.

-"At Sarah and Maxwell’s back yard, twenty something years ago."

-"Is that so?" Feigned surprise.

-"Yes. When it comes to you, Buster, I’m a natural."

He chuckled loudly and cradled her. -"Oh, you fascinated me."

-"Happier?" She wiggled atop of him.

-"Well, I’m not the happiest person in the world, but I’m sure close to the happiest." He risked a pun.

She giggled. -"Who told you that, you egotistic-the-size-of-Texas?"

-"You’re not?" Coyly.

-"No." Child-like.

-"Just asking." He pouted.

She smiled. -"Don’t be silly, Niles." She changed the tone. -"It’s just that today I’m not exactly feeling happy because…because you’re not happy."

He bitter smiled. -"That’s what I meant by not being the happiest person in the world. God knows you make me the happiest man on Earth or would on any other planet of our darn Solar System, my love, but today…" He hesitated. -"…you know, due to the circumstances."

She kissed his chest again and murmured. -"I know."

Niles knew by C.C.’s touch that she would ignite very easily if he wanted to. But not that night though…He felt too sad for anything beyond considering… deriving… pondering… of his past…of his future.

The Blonde sensed his angst one more time. -"You know, Niles. I was thinking."

-"About?"

-"About what you said last night. You know, about life being terribly tough. That we are born naked, wet, hungry, and then things get a lot worse. Do you really believe that?"

He smiled sadly again. -"No, of course not." He kissed the top of her head. -"Tough, but not that tough. I was just heartbroken with my friend’s loss. You know very well I’m not quite like that."

She kissed his cheek then rested her head on his chest again.

He played with her hair gently. -"However…" He stopped for a second.

-"However…?"

-"However, the most unfair thing about life is the way it ends. Don’t you think?"

-"Death you mean?"

-"Yes. Life is tough, it takes time, and what do you get at the end of it? Death. I think the life cycle should be backwards. You should die first and get it out of the way. Then it goes and goes to the point that you spend your last nine months floating with great ease and comfort, like in a spa."

-"And then?"

-"Then comes the best part."

-"Which is?"

-"You finish off as an orgasm."

She looked at him and frowned.

-"What?"

-"Speaking of "positive expectations toward everything"?"

-"Oh, come on. What do you think?"

-".."Am" what?" He provoked.

-"Crazy, for paying attention to anything you might say! I wish I was deaf now."

-"Oh, come on…" He shook her lightly.

She chuckled. -"Okay, I admit it. It was a good one."

-"Wasn’t it? I’m a genius."

She wiggled atop of him again. -"Yes. Leave it to the genius to make love to a woman on a stairway."

Teacher-like. -"Well, I admit we didn’t have the chance to take advantage of the different positions that the multi-level steps provide but it was fun."

She moaned not entirely agreeing.

-"Wasn’t it?"

-"Not exactly."

-"What could be hotter than that? The urgency of wanting you was so great that I couldn't wait a single step further."

She narrowed her eyes at him.

-"What?"

-"You’ve done that before, haven’t you?"

He crooked smiled. -"Who, me?"

She shook her head. -"I knew it."

He laughed loudly. -"Don’t be silly, woman. Come on what do you think?"

-"Mm, I must admit it was highly erotic but…"

-"What, you didn’t like it?"

-"Niles, we almost got caught."

Teacher-like again. -"Well, getting intimate doesn’t necessarily mean private. The sense of danger and the possibility of being caught in the act sometimes heightens excitement and arousal, don’t you think?"

-"Oh, really?"

-"Really."

-"I’ll charge you that."

-"Oh my…"

-"Wait and see."

-"Oh my, oh my…"

-"Wait… and… see…"

~~~~~~~~~

Niles awoke about one hour later. Though the darkening clouds were again graying the sky in the far distance, the moon could still be seen shining a patch of light on the hardwood floor of Miss Babcock’s penthouse.

The Blonde was sleeping profoundly within his arms and he smiled at all her peacefulness. He didn’t know but she barely slept the night before, a night of dozing, waking, and dozing again. She was worried about him. During their trip back from the cemetery she tried to take a nap in the car, but again failed. Now, all the past events and tension had simply worn her down and she simply flaked out.

The fire was down to a few brave embers as if they were part of a nest of baby phoenixes. Niles’ eyes were lost there when a whiff of her perfume suddenly brought him back from his train of thoughts. He had decisions to make… important ones…C.C. had no idea how much she helped him to take a first step toward those decisions, nevertheless, he would have to take them alone and he would need space; room to think. Decisions, decisions…

Those considerations affected not only his future but also hers - and maybe; he bitter smiled. That would be asking too much, he thought. He knew C.C. hadn’t wanted any kids since she was 21 and she never did anything throughout her life to prove that she had changed her mind. Perhaps in the future…Yes, perhaps; he dreamed. Right now he had to think of a more immediate future, though, a future, again, of decisions - decisions that should be taken soon. For starters, either he would return to England and face his parents or bury the idea that he still had his family in Europe and never look back. One thing was for sure; he could no longer hold his parents responsible for what happened to his beloved Jacqueline. Ironically, only C.C. was able to make him see that after years of resentment.

His head was spinning…

````````

C.C. slept in the next morning…

It was around noon when she woke up dizzily from the phone. She reached out, and not ever realizing, dropped a couple of things from her nightstand before she could grasp the cordless set.

-"Hello?" She mumbled. -"This is she. Yes…Yes, I’ll be picking him up tomorrow. By ten, right? Good. Did you have his nails trimmed? Good. How about the grooming? Wonderful. Is he eating? Perfect. Make sure to give him the kibble I left there… That’s the one. Ten o’clock tomorrow then. Bye." She put the set back on its cradle. -"Don’t these people ever rest? Calling me on Sunday at…Oh, shh…" She murmured after she had a first glimpse of her clock; it read 12:30.

She then felt the silence and didn’t want to look. She almost knew what the results would be. She summoned courage to feel for Niles next to her. The sheet was cool, his pillow untouched… She quickly surveyed her bedroom with her eyes and saw her earrings and pearls on her dresser. Realizing that she was still dressed she recalled what happened before she finally could get some sleep that night. She didn’t remember walking to her room though, so Niles probably carried her and tucked her in bed. She smiled. -"Always so trustworthy." She breathed loudly. She missed him - the morning smile, the morning hug, the morning kiss. She moaned at the thought of the morning voice whispering in her ear, even huskier when he woke up. -"Niles!" She risked, calling out gaily. -"Niles?" Her voice echoed through her bedroom and hallway, but all that returned was silence…

She knew he needed some peace and quiet and she respected that. She also decided to recoup her energies and remain a couple of hours more in bed. She would call him later.

When she tried that, however, no one answered… Not a single word or phone call from him the entire Sunday. It rained again that night, a long, steady rain and C.C. barely slept another wink.

`````````

Monday morning came as bright as one can be.

The Blonde, conversely, felt gloomy. She was beginning to feel not annoyed, not peeved, but scared with his silence. Whatever happened, whatever cracked inside her Niles, she questioned herself for the millionth time.

She went to pick up Chester and brought him home. When she finally made it to the mansion she found the family all gathered in the living room. They had just arrived. Suitcases, wrapping paper, and smiles were all over the place, but no sign of the Butler.

-"C.C.!" Maxwell saluted.

Fran smiled inscrutably.

-"Come in, C.C. We also have something for you." Maxwell’s excitement sounded phony and the Blonde wondered why. He went on. -"Not to mention that the rights to Yetta’s love letters are now ours." He added proudly. -"We have plenty of work to do."

She nodded with a feeble smile not quite being able to conceal her impatience.

-"What happened, Miss Babcock? Did the cat eat your tongue?" Asked Fran who handed her a package.

-"Hello, Nanny Fine." Her eyes scanned the room one more time for the Butler. -"What is this?"

-"Just a little something that Max and I brought for you from France."

-"Yes. She personally chose it for you." Max pointed at his wife proudly.

-"Oo, let me guess, a blanky stolen from the Concorde?"

-"C.C…!" Max let out slightly affronted.

-"I’m used, Honey." Fran giggled. -"No, Miss Babcock, it’s not a "blanky." Check it out."

C.C. unwrapped the paper with great misgivings but her face showed grateful surprise when two Hermès’ silk scarves appeared from inside the box. -"Oh…Fran… They are gorgeous!"

-"You like it?" Fran asked proudly.

-"Are you kidding me? Thank you! Thank you so much." C.C. grinned.

-"I wanted the Louis Vuitton’s but she forbade me." Max added.

-"Surprising." The Blonde exclaimed pleased.

-"Sweetie, LV makes luxurious things, but Miss Babcock goes more for the "classic-classic" type, not for the "classic-trendy" type. That would be…me."

-"She wears Lauren…" Max tried again.

-"Well, wouldn’t you?’ Fran darted.

-"Fran, you’re confusing me again." He shook his head.

C.C. laughed in her throaty way and walked through the living room toward the kitchen. -"Thank you again, people. Or should I say, thank you, Fran. I’m happy that you didn’t listen to Max this turn."

-"Hi, Miss Babcock!" The two girls greeted loudly.

Brighton just waved. He was eating some barbecue potato chips and giving himself a huge orange mustache in the process.

C.C. giggled at the view and stopped for a second to check what they were doing. -"Hello, children!"

They were playing cards.

-"Ha! You’re dead! I got a Full House!" Mumbled B. with the snack in his mouth.

-"No, you are dead! I got two pairs." Said Gracie.

-"Since when do two pairs beat a Full House?" Asked Brighton, Maggie, and C.C. in unison.

-"Since they are two pairs of Aces." Smirked the little one finally revealing the cards.

-"Oh ma-aan…" B. grimaced with disappointment.

-"Ouch…" C.C. whispered.

-"Sucker." Maggie teased.

-"You stay out of this." Her brother added unhappily then dropped the cards carelessly on the table. -"You deal, Grace."

-"Just like my Uncle Irving says…Remember Uncle Irving?" Poked Fran.

-"Ah yes, how could we forget the dependable octogenarian plumber." Max sighed sarcastically. -"What does he say?"

-"…He says, "Remember, a flush is always better than a full house." Fran let out while watching C.C. nervously head for the kitchen.

The Producer followed his wife’s eyes. -"Do you think she knows about Niles already?"

-"We’ll find out in a minute." Fran mumbled.

-"Maxwell, where in hell is that pathetic excuse for a butler of yours? I want my coffee." C.C. darted walking back right in.

-"No clue…" Fran added under her breath.

-"Nope." Max muttered.

-"Oy."

-"C.C… uh…Niles…He…" Max let out hesitatingly.

-"What is this? Are my eyes deceiving me? Am I at a morgue? Why the sudden gloom?"

Max and Fran stared at each other blankly.

The Blonde froze and so did her smile. -"What the deuce is going on here?"

-"C.C., hum, Niles had to leave us."

-"LEA-ve?" She finished in a lower tone trying to sound indifferent. She stood irresolute for a moment. Her facial expression as lost as the family pet that fell off the U-Haul truck.

-"Not in that way." Fran slapped her husband’s arm realizing his lack of touch. -"It’s just for a few days, Miss Babcock."

-"Oh.." C.C. began to breathe again.

-"Yes…uh-uh…" Max muttered.

-"Why don’t you two talk in the library? I can brew you guys some coffee." Fran knew her husband needed more privacy.

-"Splendid idea, Sweetheart. Thank you." He then pulled C.C. toward his study.

Visibly disturbed. -"Why, when, wh-how…What happened?" The Blonde stuttered.

For the next fifteen minutes Max proceeded to explain that Niles had called him in Europe the day before. He asked for a few days off because he was in strong distress after his friend’s loss and that he – Max – agreed that the man more than deserved a vacation. C.C. asked apprehensively of how many days they were talking about. Max told her he had no idea. That it was up to Niles to decide. The hardest part for Mr. Sheffield, though, was to pretend that he didn’t know about their affair.

-"Very well, C.C.. That’s what happened to that "pathetic excuse for a butler of mine"."

-"Maxwell, he’s your friend!"

-"C.C., those were your words."

-"Yes, but he’s not my friend." She said unconvincingly.

Max rubbed the vein on his forehead. -"Enough of Niles, all right. Let the man rest for a few days."

She ignored. -"Have you got any clue where the rock he is hiding under is?"

-"Why, do you intend to crawl after him?"

She glared at him.

He sighed loudly. -"No. He had no idea of his destination when he called me. Maggie tells me that he went out of town and arranged with her for the limo to have us picked up at the airport. That’s all I know." Beat. -"Why the sudden interest in the man, C.C.?"

-"Maxwell, do you realize that we’ll be auditioning the cast for our new musical in a few days and that you have no help. How about the backers?!" She said hoping that Max could change his mind and find a way to bring Niles back.

-"C.C., when I said he could go I had all this in mind. Sylvia allowed me to leave the letters with our composers and writers before we left for Europe. They’ve been working like crazy on our project, but we still don’t have a play. Even if we are lucky - best-case scenario, I mean - it will take at least one more week until we start auditioning. I called Denise, the cleaning lady, a few minutes ago. She’s happy to be paid extra for cooking us some meals. Her husband lost his job and she needs the cash. We can survive without the old man for a couple of days."

-"But Ni-…"

-"For as long as he may need, C.C..I owe him that."

She shrugged as if she didn’t care and then went silent.

Max felt sorry for her. He could tell her despair despite the fake veneer of indifference.

Fran made some coffee and the Blonde drank it. But when she tried to eat a sandwich during the day it just wouldn’t go down. -‘It’s funny..’ C.C. thought. -‘…when my heart is upset, it’s always the middle of my stomach that hurts.’ She could tell there was something wrong - something very wrong. But what could she do? She couldn’t simply set out on a search all over Manhattan, better yet, all over the country!

`````````

The day before…

After hearing from Maggie the promise that she would take care of her family’s return from the airport, Niles set his sights on a quiet and preferably affordable destination. He remembered that he had the keys to one of his friend’s log cabin up in Maine. His friend lived in Europe with his wife and kids and Niles was requested to drop by when he was available just to make sure the maintenance was indeed keeping the place nice and clean. He hadn’t been there for almost a year now; perfect occasion to kill two birds with one stone, he thought. He rented a car around the airport area, which was the only place he could get an automobile rented on Sundays, and headed north.

Clouds had begun to gather again and a distant thunder boomed so deeply that he could feel it in his chest. C.C.’s face came to his mind again and again and he felt guilty and yet guiltier. Leaving that way without discussing that trip with her could affect their relationship, their trust, and he didn’t want that. On the other hand he knew she would give him a long string of "whys" and "hows" and "whens" and "whats" and he was in no mood to share the answers to those questions with her yet.

The sky had suddenly turned metal gray, and all the streetlights started coming on. Niles reached in the side pocket for a CD. He usually kept a couple in each car for he couldn’t stand all the assortments of Broadway musicals, "Jewish Soundtracks," and bubble gum, pop artists that usually filled the Sheffields’ CD changers. Only he wasn’t driving one of their cars. Empty. -"Oh bummer, I forgot my CDs!" He turned on the radio. Talk show on the Y2K. "Flick." Commercial. "Flick." Joe Torre, coach for the Yankees complaining about his long D.L. "Flick." Rap Music or something similar blasting the speakers. "Flick." Religious. "Flick." Religious. "Flick." Commercial. "Flick." Classical. -"Not that I’m quite in the mood for it right now, but…" Long sigh. -"But this will have to do." Romantic song. C.C. popped in his mind again. He shook his head. -"You spent half of your life thinking of her and you’ll have the rest of your days to do exactly the same. But you left her behind to consider about your past so you can have a future. So, for now, concentrate on that; just that."

Hours went by. He thought of his childhood in England, of his schooldays, of his family. Funny, but after all the sad things that had happened in the past couple of days and after his long talk with C.C. his ghosts didn’t seem to torment him or hurt him as much. When he tried to resurrect them, they flickered and died like an old movie…

The Butler arrived at his destination the same day, around midnight. The place was called Moose River Valleys, a region with beautiful wooded mountains, pristine rivers, and outstanding outdoor recreation.

It was a small, traditional log cabin like Crockett and maple syrup and it was located near a lake. The evening was loud with crickets, and some frogs could be heard in the distance. He walked to the backyard porch and sat in one of the two old rockers he found there. Across the lake, the moon had sunk lower and sent a line of silver reflection toward him on the surface of the water and he could see some wood stacked against a nearby tree. There was a smell of sage in the air. It seemed to scour out his lungs and make his brain fresh. He thought of C.C. for the millionth time. She was mildly allergic to sage and he loved to tease her implying that he had spiced their business dinners with sage every time he could. Little did she know that he had never allowed sage to enter his kitchen again after he learned about her condition. He would like to stay there outside a little longer but the air was cold and he was exhausted from his long trip.

As his eyes grew accustomed to the low light, he strode quickly to the screened door. The place was in fairly good shape though very dusty. He scraped away a few cobwebs from the doorframe, shook off a couple of tiny spiders he could feel crawling on his hand, and opened the door. He clearly recalled that the power to the house was next to that backdoor. He flipped the switches and some bulbs came to life. In contrast with the outside, everything seemed relatively clean on the inside, except for the smell of stale cigarettes and disinfectant. That reminded him of some of the pubs he used to hang out at in his early twenties.

He dropped his bag on the floor, kicked off his shoes, and locked up the door. Everything was exactly like he remembered: one bedroom with a nice bathroom, a living room, a kitchenette, and – Ahhh – a fireplace. Without thinking twice, he put several pieces of kindling on the coals, lit a match and fanned it until a roaring fire flared up and fended off the evening chill.

He thought of food, but he had eaten at his last stop for coffee two hours before. All he could think of at that hour and after a seven-hour drive was to hit the hay. His eyelids were lead-lined and his poor mind on hold. He gazed out at the water for a few more minutes, then turned off the lights and went to bed not even caring to change his clothes. ‘Good night, my Love,’ was his last thought before he dozed off.

Niles awoke at dawn feeling totally refreshed. He stretched his legs and for the first time in a long time they did not run into smooth, feminine ones. He sure missed them but had to admit that the circumstances required that independence. He could hear the woods alive with morning sounds. He cleared his mind and spent a couple of minutes looking around; the room was still dark except for a beam of pale sunlight with suspended dust particles. -‘This place needs some cleaning.’ He thought then sat up. -"Only I won’t be the one cleaning it, at least not today. No cleaning, no cooking, no driving... I’m going out for a walk." He mumbled, hopped out of bed and pulled back the curtains.

Later that day, after having had a light meal and filled up the refrigerator with provisions, he slipped on his trunks and went out for a swim. A stiff breeze gently rocked the trees. He knew the water would be cold, but he needed the exercise. That would sure keep him sharp, crisp, alert and would help him to think. The lake was rippled and glistening. He took in several deep breaths and dove in. Not as cold as he expected he praised in his thoughts, then surfaced and slowly swam out. -"A piece of paradise surrounded by civilization." He let out when he reached the middle of the lake. With a couple more of leg and arm strokes, he swam toward a particular rock outcropping near a crest. He climbed to that overhang trying to find some peace in the view; in the fresh smells and in the way the wind whirled in the treetops. It again felt a little chilly against his wet skin but he didn’t mind. He sat up there surveying the water, the landscape, the dense foliage, and it felt good. It was as if the energy of the place could dissolve some of the blocks in his mind. He leaned back against the rock, feeling the warmth of the sun, and then drifted into a not so pleasant reverie. A familiar pang of anxiety knotted in his stomach. The place was idyllic, but he wasn’t there to exactly write poetry. He was there to face his ghosts…

Some fragments of his conversation with C.C. popped up in his mind again and again… -‘Niles, you are usually pretty much in control of the situation or of your feelings. This situation, you cannot control. This makes you feel helpless and overloaded emotionally and that’s not you. Focus on what you can control instead of what you can’t’…‘Everything in life happens for a reason and a purpose that can serve you for the good or for the bad.’

He was there for over an hour when the sound of a Jet Ski brought him back from his "dissecting." Technically it was not exactly a Jet Ski but a Sea-Do. If it were a Jet Ski it would be virtually impossible for that man to be driving it for Niles noticed the man’s legs were gone from his knees down.

-"Morning!" The man saluted loudly.

-"Good day!"

-"I saw that your chimney was trailing smoke last night."

-"Cold night, wouldn’t you say?"

-"Nah, you get used to it."

-"True." Niles smiled. -"Vacation?"

-"Not exactly. We are three of only a handful of residents who live here year-round."

-"I just see one!"

The man laughed. -"The other two are my mother Lucy and my wife Ethel."

-"Let me guess, you are Ricky."

The man chuckled loudly again. -"No, that would be too much of a coincidence!"

Niles nodded.

-"I’m Fred!"

Niles narrowed his eyes in a skeptical expression.

-"Gotcha! Just kidding. Keith is the name. But people call me "Wheels"." He pointed at his amputated legs implying a wheelchair.

-"Oh.." The Butler let out not knowing how to exactly react. -"I’m Niles."

-"Did the Andersens sell the house?"

-"No, they’re still in Denmark. I drop-by from time to time to check if the cabin is still there." Niles jested.

-"You’re from the UK, aren’t you?"

-"Yep."

-"What part?"

-"England."

-"Hey, my mother will love to meet you. My grandparents on her side were from London."

-"Oh…" He let out gladly.

-"Why don’t you join us for dinner?"

-"I don’t want to-…"

-"It will be a pleasure! We live like just a block from you and we don’t get much company till summer."

-"I don’t want to impose-…"

-"No imposition. It will be great!"

-"In that case, I’ll accept it. Thank you."

-"I have to go now. ‘Wanna a ride back? The sun will be playing hide and seek from now on. The water will be freezing before you reach the shore."

-"I believe you are right, I think I must." Niles stood up and dove from the top of the rock. A loud grunt came out of his mouth when he surfaced. -"Correction, the water IS blasting cold already! Shhhh…"

The man laughed. -"Told you. Hop on!"

Niles obeyed and "Wheels" sped the machine away.

He dropped the Butler off on the wooden pier in the back of the cabin minutes later. -"So we’ll be waiting for you…"

-"At seven…Cabin 10-B, right?"

-"Exactly. Just walk right in."

-"I’ll be there. Thanks for the ride."

-"You’re welcome." The man bade adieu and sped off again. -"Later…!"

-"Later!" Niles followed the man with his eyes. -"What an intriguing character." He added under his breath.

The Butler was just glad to get some of that gloom out of his bones but he couldn’t pinpoint what exactly was going on. He had a feeling that that invitation seemed to have a purpose, a cosmic intention. One of those "coincidences" that one seems not to fully grasp at first but later…

The object of that encounter he would firmly understand by the end of that week.

```````````

Chester moved on his tiny mattress repeatedly that night. C.C. directed her attention to him and he looked up at her with very sleepy eyes.

She sank to the bed and rocked herself. -"Missing him too, aren’t you?"

He made a little sound.

-"Me too. But dwelling on the past won't change things any now. Something went wrong. He changed his mind I guess…got tired. That’s it, he got tired and didn’t have the guts to tell me."

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