Back to Part One of Caramel Knowledge
by
Denise
(scholars_parrot@lycos.com)
“Did you happen to notice what they were watching?” he asked as he locked the door.
“Like I care how they pollute their minds.” When he turned around she started unbuckling his belt.
“It was a documentary about sexual behavior in the animal kingdom. A little timely, wouldn’t you say?”
“Did it give you any ideas?”she asked.
“I really don’t need much outside inspiration, but I must say I thought I compared favorably to the bull elephant.”
She unzipped him and tilted her head to one side. “Well, you do have quite an impressive trunk. But I didn’t notice earlier.”
“Didn’t notice what?” Niles asked, a little confused and not entirely certain he wanted to hear her answer.
“I see you’re lacking something.”
“Huh?” Niles was completely baffled.
“Your boxers, Niles. Where are your boxers?” C.C.’s gleeful smirk confirmed her observation had achieved the desired effect.
“My, but you’re devious,” Niles said in obvious admiration before addressing her question. “Remember what I said about efficiency. I’ve done away with underpants for the time being — it eliminates one step, you see.” He stepped out of his shoes and flung off his trousers.
“I’ll remember to take special caution with the zipper while you’re in your efficiency mode.”
“Yes, you do that. We’d certainly appreciate it.”
“We — is that the royal ‘we’?” C.C. teased.
“Could be — you know, I don’t like to brag, but I have been told it’s rather majestic.”
“Well, I don’t know about that, but it’s definitely as rigid as any member of the royal family. And I thought it was a stiff upper lip you Brits were known for.”
Niles pretended to be shocked. “Goodness, you’re an impudent creature!” He whispered in her ear, “Just for that, love, you’re about to experience an entirely new meaning of the phrase ‘a royal lashing.’ I hope you’ve no objections.” He took her hand and pulled her to the bed.
“None whatsoever.” She smiled broadly and followed his lead. When C.C. reclined on his bed an outside thought came to mind. “Oh, wait, there’s something I need to do first.” She gently shoved him away.
“What? Are you serious?” He wasn’t at all pleased.
“Sorry — I just remembered an important call I need to make.” C.C. reached for his telephone.
“At a time like this? Are you already growing tired of me?”
“No way! In fact, you actually inspired the call.” The phone was in her left hand, and she ran her right hand through his hair.
Her words and her touch seemed to placate him. “Really? How so?”
“Well, it’s sort of a Freudian thing,” she answered.
“Hmm, I think I like the sound of that.” Niles moved closer to her. His voice was low and provocative, almost a gentle growl. “Do you care to reveal the underlying meaning of your remark?” She held the receiver to her ear, and he kissed the spot behind it.
C.C. covered the mouthpiece with her hand, “If you’re looking for hidden meaning, you won’t find it behind my ear.” He continued kissing her. “Stop it, Niles. I won’t be able to think, much less talk, when the receptionist answers.”
“Woman, you torment me. You don’t want me to have any fun.” He grinned but feigned disappointment too.
She pointed to the receiver. “This won’t take long, I promise.” Her vow was followed by a whispered account of what was happening on the other end of the line. “Someone’s answering.”
A surprising realization caused Niles to pay very close attention while C.C. was on the phone. He now understood that her reference to Freud was meant to be taken literally. She was talking to Dr. Bort’s office, apparently making a last-minute cancellation of a therapy session.
Niles could only hear C.C.’s portion of the conversation, but he accurately surmised the dialogue coming from the other end. “Yes, I understand I’ll be billed for the hour.” A pause followed while she listened to the receptionist’s reply. “What is my reason for cancelling? All I can say is that it’s a matter of a personal nature.” Another pause occurred. “The doctor will want a more specific reason?” C.C. smiled and stared directly at Niles. He returned the grin and happily listened to the conclusion of the call. “You can tell her I’m finally with Niles. Tell her that just for today he’ll be delivering my therapy.” There was one last lull before C.C. spoke again. “No, there’s really no need for further explanation — I’m certain she’ll understand.”
C.C. placed the receiver in the cradle, and Niles raised his brow in mock surprise. “Am I to assume I’ve been a hot item on the couch?”
“Are you serious, Niles? You’ve been a hot item everywhere... the couch, the office, your room, your shower.”
“Oh, you make it sound so sordid.” He teased, then turned curious. “So you’ve been discussing your Butler Boy? I hope the good doctor is duly impressed.”
“I think she’s gonna be once she hears about our breakthrough.” C.C. leaned against him to set the phone aside. “And if you could be a fly on her office wall, I think you might appreciate the unrepressed way I’ll be discussing you.”
Niles grabbed her and firmly responded, “I’ll tell you what I’d appreciate. I’d like to administer that therapy you made reference to during your call. What do you say to an extended game of ‘Doctor’?”
Although his suggestion was a welcome one, C.C. became indignant at the mention of the phone call. “Can you believe that pushy idiot of a receptionist? I only called because Dr. Bort is so anal about missed appointments. Really, of all the nerve — wanting to know the details of my personal life. Like that’s ever gonna happen!”
“Oh my, there’s the spitfire I fell in love with. Will you listen to the way you talk about other people?! Such contempt. You’re practically brimming with it!” The phone call was forgotten as Niles pulled her closer and urgently helped remove her clothing. His words teased, but his voice was laced with passion. “What sort of man am I to put up with such a viciously sniping lowlife of a creature?”
“Lowlife?! Oh, please. You think I’m the lowlife in this relationship?” she questioned as she moved to unbutton his shirt. “Think about it, Niles, if I’m as you say, ‘brimming with contempt,’ just where does that put you?” C.C. shifted her body so that she was now straddling him.
“Beneath contempt?”
“Exactly!” She finished unbuttoning his shirt and ran her fingers beneath the fabric. Soon his shirt was peeled back and her lips were pressed against his chest.
“I’m so glad we’re of like minds.” Niles responded, but his words were barely discernable.
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
Who’d have imagined C.C. Babcock had goals and aspirations other than her previously achieved objective of becoming Maxwell Sheffield’s business partner and her recently abandoned obsession of snaring him as a romantic partner? How could anyone guess? For years and years she’d never really been able to bare that part of her soul. Still, Niles knew, and he prompted her to reveal her dreams.
C.C. lay on her side, her right arm folded beneath her head, pillowing it. Her left hand was resting on Niles’ chest. Niles’ hand caressed where her shoulder and neck met, and his thumb gently stroked encouragement as she spoke. “I don’t mean to cut Maxwell out, but I wish I could make the final decisions on things. I’d just like to be in charge of everything for once. Can you understand what I mean?”
“Yes, I got rather a good understanding of that just a few minutes ago.”
Despite the obvious pleasure he’d shown in being with her, C.C.’s old insecurities surfaced. “I wasn’t too aggressive, was I?” She remembered what Colin and Chandler and other men had said, and she didn’t want Niles to be put off or disappointed in any way.
“Babcock, are you kidding me? In the sense you mean? Why, as far as I’m concerned there’s no such thing!” Niles was emphatic. “In fact, it’s quite a pleasure taking orders from you. Now, what were you saying?”
His response came as a relief to her, and she gladly revealed her dreams. “Just how I’d like to have a bigger say in the business. It’s not that I want Maxwell to disappear, but I guess I really would prefer it to be Babcock-Sheffield Productions.”
“BS Productions, that’s right up your alley, love.” It was a joy to have her so willingly share her hopes and desires.
C.C. smiled at his joke, she knew he meant it as a form of endearment — she had come to realize he’d meant so many of his jokes through the years as endearments. She also realized she was going on and on about her ambitions. The old C.C. wouldn’t bother to ask Niles what his wishes were, but the new one did. “What about you? What are your dreams?”
He didn’t dare tell her about his desire to be a playwright; he was afraid she’d either laugh or think he had pursued and bedded her for all the wrong reasons. “I’ll let you in on a little secret. All my dreams came true last night. Now come closer, let me hold you properly.”
She willingly obeyed. C.C. put her head on his shoulder and he held her protectively and tenderly. Niles brushed her hair with his fingers, repeating the motion over and over again. Whether in passion or at rest, they were two lovers synchronized as one, and after a time they shifted as one to relax on their sides. C.C.’s back pressed against his chest, and his arms were wrapped securely around her. Niles rested his chin on her shoulder. “C.C.?”
“Yes?”
“I don’t suppose you’ve changed your mind about marrying me?”
“Niles, what did we say last night? I can’t think of the future in those terms. No more talk of marriage, remember?”
“Just checking.”
He was being a good sport, but she could hear a hint of sorrow in his voice. C.C. would try to ease his disappointment with a joke at her own expense. It was one he’d be sure to appreciate. “Anyway, why on earth would you want to marry me now? You know the old saying — you’ve surely discovered you can have all this cow’s milk for free.”
He played right along. “Yes, I am enjoying my newly acquired udder privileges.” But his mind was already turning with ways to entice her to marry him. The best way would be to love her easily, freely and completely. To make her so comfortable with him and what he had to offer that she’d never want to be apart from him. However, he’d be Machiavellian if necessary. The next best way would be to get her pregnant. She didn’t think that was at all likely. Had she thought so, nagging old fears would have undoubtedly put an end to the careless way they conducted certain aspects of their affair. But her belief a baby was an impossibility wouldn’t stop him from making the effort. Why, he’d make the effort every chance he got. In this particular course of action Niles planned on being very thorough indeed.
He felt certain a pregnancy would lead to a wedding. Although she had embraced a multitude of unconventional ways, there was still a sense of traditional propriety about her. She would in some part forever remain a creature of her own social class, and her class didn’t typically fly in the face of that rule of society.
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
Despite her awareness of what was probably so and the constant barrage of innuendoes, C.C. really wished Fran and Maxwell were entirely oblivious to the intimate relationship she now shared with Niles, and so she allowed herself to become comfortable with the idea that maybe the Sheffields truly didn’t know. After all, no one had come right out and said anything definitive. Maybe all the sly little comments actually were coincidences. She couldn’t imagine Nanny Fine not breaking down and asking Niles directly, and Niles swore that hadn’t happened.
Gradually the stream of innuendoes slowed to a crawling current, and C.C. willfully convinced herself the affair was a secret. Each day she became more and more tranquil in the life she enjoyed with Niles. Their bond was simple and natural, and there was an ease and flow that surprised them both.
Sometimes C.C. would wake before Niles, and when she did she couldn’t help but think how “right” they were together. And how for years and years she wasn’t able to see or accept that notion.
Her old vision of a life with Maxwell Sheffield had never been more than a vague concept, like some slickly enticing magazine, striking at first glance but abjectly empty upon close examination. She realized her romantic designs on Maxwell had always been the most insubstantial kind of mindless fluff. Moreover, she was painfully aware that she had been guilty of viewing him in the heedless way so many men had viewed her. She’d reduced Max to something of an object, rating him as one more trophy she was entitled to acquire.
In Niles, she had found much more than a trophy. She had found her intellectual equal, a soul mate, a lover, and her dearest, most reliable friend. Maxwell could never be these things to her, never in a million years; nor could she be the same to him. But to Niles she was all these things and more. They were two constant companions, they had been oddly faithful even when they despised one another, undoubtedly meant by time and space — and whatever force held influence over the universe — to be together. “Who’d ever believe it?” she sighed aloud.
“Who’d believe what?” His eyes half shut, Niles sleepily responded, “You mean the two of us together as soul mates?” Of course, he’d absolutely nailed it (as he so often did where C.C. was concerned), but she decided for the moment she wouldn’t let him know. A bit of play was in order.
“The soul mates thing is a little unbelievable; but, no, I mean how I could feel so much younger now that I’m seeing a much older man.”
“When you say ‘seeing,’ I take it you’re referring to more than the sense of sight?”
“Yes, it would be fair to say the sense of touch is very much involved in my meaning. Even an old fella like you picked up on that, huh?”
“I thought so. Say, that’s more than once you’ve referred to my age.” Niles sounded slightly offended. “The age difference doesn’t bother you, does it? Because it’s really not all that tremendous, I’ll have you know.”
“C’mon, Niles, I wasn’t exactly suggesting I’m ‘Lolita,’ and you’re the perverted old man chasing after me — although you do occasionally sound like James Mason’s character from the film.” He looked as if he couldn’t decide whether to laugh, and she sought to reassure him. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’ve dated much older men. I’m just surprised that you’ve actually acknowledged you’re older than me.”
“Well, come to think of it, it is rather shocking you ever managed to find someone older than yourself to date.” Adding loving insult to injury, Niles perfectly mimicked James Mason to deliver his next remark, “I always thought carbon dating might be the most appropriate form of dating for you.” Before she had a chance to respond, retroactive jealousy flared up and curiosity got the better of him. “Name an older man you’ve dated.”
“Other than you, Nanny Fine’s discarded old tycoon, for one.”
“I almost forgot about him. What was his name?”
“Oh, what could it possibly matter?”
“Can’t remember, huh?”
“So what if I can’t? I can remember the name of a certain Senator. That makes two men from my past as decrepit as you.”
He ignored her little dig. “Ah, the Senator. I’ve always wondered who he was. Let me guess...”
“Why bother guessing? He’s someone most people would never consider pairing me with.”
“That may be, love, but remember, I’m someone most people wouldn’t pair you with.” A far-fetched thought crossed his suddenly-anxious mind. “Good lord, you surely didn’t date Strom Thurmond! Please tell me you weren’t with that relic from the Civil War era.”
“The Oldest Living Confederate Senator? Give me a little credit, will you? Despite the fact I’m here with you, I have better judgment than to ever date him.”
“He’s too old even for your advanced years, huh?”
“No — remember, I am here with you — age has nothing to do with it. It’s just that I could never bring myself to have anything to do with someone so opposed to public funding of the arts. Given the opportunity, his kind would kill every grant we can get our hands on.”
“Sheffield-Babcock receives grant money?” He was surprised.
“Occasionally, we manage to be eligible through a little creative manipulation of the rules.”
“Well, I’ll be! So Mr. Sheffield takes money from the government? That’s not exactly in keeping with his political party’s philosophy.”
“So what? Niles, you know as well as I do politics is a lot like show business — both go hand in hand with hypocrisy. Besides, he’s a New York Republican. It’s not the same — remember the Rockefellers. Sometimes Republicans actually support the arts.”
“That may very well be, but he still feels strongly enough about his political convictions to have given Brighton the middle name of Milhous.”
“Who?” She wasn’t at all certain who he was talking about.
“Milhous, as in Richard Milhous Nixon.”
“No, I know that. I mean, who’s Brighton?”
He shook his head in comic exasperation. “You know, the boy.”
“Oh, are you sure he’s not called ‘Trevor’? Because just recently he answered to that when I offered to...” she decided it was best not to finish that sentence.
Niles was no fool. He finished the sentence for her. “When you offered to pay him in order to enlist his help so that you might somehow manage to ‘see’ his father, even though the man’s now married and about to become the father of twins.”
“You knew about that, huh?”
“Why did you think I was so irritated at the time? Of course, I knew.”
“Then surely you knew I only went after him to avoid my feelings for you?” C.C. explained.
“No, I wasn’t aware of that. And this is one instance where ignorance clearly wasn’t bliss. You don’t know how you hurt me at the time.”
“What can I do to make it up to you?” she inquired.
“Is it really necessary to ask?”
C.C. decided to show him just how anxious she was to make amends for past wrongs. As he brought his body down upon hers, she wrapped her legs around him, just a little more enthusiastically than she ever had before.
“God, Babcock, you’ll cut off my circulation with that death grip of yours!” Niles teased, for he was clearly enjoying the moment.
“Funny, it doesn’t feel like there’s a problem with your circulation.”
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
“I’ve just found my bliss.” Niles sighed and reclined against his pillow.
“You just found mine, too.” C.C. turned toward him, resting an arm on his chest. “Although that comes as no surprise, since our bliss seems to be located in the same spot.”
“That does appear to be the case, love.” Niles was in complete agreement.
As happened more often than not after one of their encounters, she was in a teasing mood. “But what, is ‘bliss’ your new word for the day? I mean, since when do you phrase it that way? Really, ‘found your bliss’ — sounds like something you picked up from one of your self-help tapes. Did the You Can Get Women series come with a bonus item?” She was smirking with delight.
“It’s fortunate for you I’m in such a good mood; otherwise, I wouldn’t put up with this kind of torture.” He cupped her face with one hand, brushed her hair away from her features, then raised a wicked brow and whispered, “And how appropriate that you should bring up the subject of bonus items. I sense a ‘bonus’ in your immediate future.”
“Oh, Niles, you are in a good mood! Talk about embracing your sensual energy!”
Fran knocked at the door. “Niles!” the uniquely coarse voice called out.
“What?!” came his agitated response.
“I don’t mean to interrupt you and uh, and uh, you and all the work you’ve been doing in your room lately, but Maxwell needs to see you A-S-P-C-A.”
Niles, who was so annoyed he wasn’t thinking at full steam, turned to C.C. and spoke under his breath. “Did she just say something about the ASPCA? Why on earth is she talking about the American Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals? Is Sheffield-Babcock sponsoring a benefit?”
C.C. answered in a whisper. “I think she meant to say ‘A-S-A-P.’”
Niles nodded, “Oh, of course. She makes that mistake all the time. Besides, I would have known about a benefit — no doubt my little animal would have been the guest of honor.” C.C. smacked the side of his head, gently but with an unmistakable flourish. Niles grinned at the theatricality of her gesture, then answered Fran, all the while maintaining eye contact with C.C. “It’s going to be somewhat difficult to extricate myself from my present task.” C.C. once again wrapped her legs around him, just to make his words ring tormentingly true. “Can’t it wait?” Niles somehow managed to ask Fran.
“I’m afraid not, he has something he needs you to do right now.”
“Like I don’t have something I need to do right now,” he muttered impatiently while C.C. released him from her grip and suppressed a giggle. “Honestly, the man is either completely clueless or entirely inconsiderate!” Niles complained as quietly as he could.
C.C. whispered back, “Niles, you know how versatile Maxwell is. I think it’s possible he’s both.”
Fran thought she heard the sound of muffled voices. “Niles, did you hear me?” she called from the other side of the door.
“Yes!” he answered. “I’ll be right there.” Niles rose from the bed and inquired of Fran, “If I may ask, what is it I’m to do for Mr. Sheffield?”
“He needs a button sewn on his suede blazer — you know, the tan one.”
“But he has other suede jackets. Why can’t he wear one of those?”
“Oh, you know how Maxwell is. He wants a casual, just-thrown-together look for today, and he’s been planning on wearing that specific jacket for a week now.”
“Oh, alright!” he shouted furiously, then tempered his tone and pulled on his pants. “Why don’t you go tell him I’ll take care of it right away?”
“Okay.” Fran would have preferred to remain and listen outside the door, but she knew Maxwell would be expecting her.
When Niles heard her footsteps trail off, he looked at C.C. and asked, “Well, why can’t she manage that on her own? How on earth do they normally repair loose buttons in Queens? Hot glue them?”
“No, Niles, that would risk melting the fine petroleum-based fabrics so prevalent in Queens.”
“God, you’re vicious! Do you know what a turn-on that is?” He leaned across the bed and kissed her shoulder.
“Stop it, you have to get dressed and sew the man’s button.”
“I’d like to sew his button right over his...”
“Niles!” she chastened. “I know it’s annoying, but it’s necessary for you to do as Maxwell asks. Lord knows I don’t want to put up with one of his pouty moods.”
“Yes, we can’t have Mr. Spontaneity pouting now, can we? My word, even when he’s attempting to be casual, it’s planned and calculated with mathematical precision.”
“I know, but please? It would make things so much easier for me.” She knew he wouldn’t deny her request.
Niles buttoned his shirt. “Alright, I’ll do it for you, love. But I’d like a favor in return.”
“I’ll bet you would.”
He caught her meaning. “Well, that goes without saying, but I’m actually talking about something else.”
“Oh?”
“You could ease my disappointment by wearing that silk dress you stuck in my closet — you know, the off-white number with the floral touches.”
She protested. “But that’s not appropriate for the office. I only hung it in there because it was delivered here instead of to my penthouse. I can’t wear it while I’m working, it wouldn’t be businesslike!”
“Love, I know for a fact you do all sorts of improper, unbusinesslike things while you’re working.”
“But, Niles, that’s different. The look is all wrong...”
“Nonsense, you’ll look so sweet and lovely. You’ll look like a breath of spring. Please?”
She relented a bit. “Well, I’ll think about it, but don’t count on it.”
Niles nodded. He knew he had convinced her and that pleased him, but he was still annoyed about the morning’s disruption and wanted more privacy. “You know, we really need to free ourselves from these interruptions. Perhaps a weekend trip is in order.”
C.C. agreed. “That’s a great idea! We could take a trip to the Vineyard and no one would be the wiser.”
“Hmm, I was thinking someplace a little more far removed — maybe an extended weekend in Ireland.”
His choice of destination made no sense to her. “Ireland? Why Ireland?”
“Well, it rather reminds me of you, my sweet. It’s a beautiful, mystical, occasionally harsh island with exquisitely rolling contours, plus I quite like the idea of flying with you on Aer Lingus. Just imagine the possibilities.”
“Niles, despite the fact that sounds like it may work to my advantage, don’t be too sure of yourself. All in-flight encounters will depend entirely on my mood.”
“We’ll be in First Class. The vodka flows freely. I believe my confidence is well warranted.”
C.C. catapulted a pillow across the room, but Niles safely dodged its path. He stood at the door and lingered to take one last look before beginning his workday. “My God, you’re beautiful when you pretend to be angry. In case it’s slipped your mind, I love you, Miss Babcock.” He swiftly darted out of his room.
As he pulled the door closed he heard her whisper a reply, “I love you too, you worthless gigolo.”
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
In the weeks to come there was no flight to Ireland, saving potential fellow passengers from experiencing the most rocking turbulence imaginable, and no weekend in Martha’s Vineyard, saving the island’s residents from putting up with decibel levels they weren’t at all accustomed to. There just wasn’t time to get away, for Maxwell and C.C. had become very much involved in developing a new musical. Instead, C.C. and Niles sought out private moments in some of the most public places imaginable, and relished these moments all the more as the risk added an intensity to every single sensation.
During the daytime C.C. put in long hours at the theater, so they worked out a little ritual where Niles would deliver lunch and dessert. There were times when the practice drove Maxwell nuts, but he was happy for the couple all the same and really tried to accept their behavior graciously, and except for the incident when a curtain inexplicably came crashing down at the wrong moment and nearly took out the leading lady, their shenanigans had posed no serious threat. Although, when he gave it much thought Maxwell was almost insulted by the fact they behaved as though no one knew of the relationship. Really, how dense would a person have to be for it not to register? It’s not as if I’m the most oblivious chap in the world. What do they think it would take for someone to notice? Walking in on them while they’re in bed? Well, come to think of it, that is what happened. Perhaps I wouldn’t know if I didn’t know. Oh, this is becoming all too confusing — my temple is beginning to throb.
Maxwell’s pressing thoughts aside, Niles and C.C.’s standard routine usually called for her to secretively spend the night with Niles in his room; however, the domestic drill varied from time to time. Niles would occasionally sleep over at C.C.’s penthouse, diligently rising very early to make certain he had time to return to the townhouse well before the Sheffield family awoke.
The idyllic back-and-forth was only disrupted when Niles was unexpectedly called to London for a family reunion. Through the years C.C. and Niles had often been figuratively on separate continents, but literally by each others’ sides (and at each others’ throats). Now they were geographically separated by an ocean, but emotionally they couldn’t have been more close.
While Niles was away, the fact their affair was known to others was made eye-popping clear to C.C. and subsequently to him. With that knowledge came a liberating freedom. A teenage giddiness accompanied the early days of their public courtship, and all who witnessed it were simultaneously amazed and warmed by Niles and C.C.’s overwhelming and intoxicating joy.
The rapture the unconventional duo found in the relationship was greater than any emotion either had ever experienced, but Niles wanted more, and more he would have. After an agonizing bout of neurotic wavering on C.C.’s part, they experienced an absurdly brief engagement, a hasty wedding and a very public heralding of their impending parenthood, all in one memorable evening. When the doctor informed them of the pregnancy, Niles was as shocked as C.C. and passed out cold alongside his wife. Though it was something he had long hoped for, the thoroughly positive result of his entirely loving — and somewhat calculated — efforts had surprised him as much as it did her. And given the nature and history of their relationship, what reaction could have been more appropriate?
The End
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