Back to Fan FictionThese characters don’t belong to me. I just borrowed them for a while.
Part Two
by
Jan
Fran checked her purse to make sure she had plenty of tissues. She knew the next hour was going to be absolutely heart-wrenching, and she also knew there was no way she would be able to control her tears, so the best she could do was be ready to mop them up. She glanced at her watch—just a few more minutes and they would be there. She took a sip of her water and looked around at the other people in the restaurant. They all seemed to be having pleasant conversations and enjoying themselves. It was a far cry, she knew, from what she was about to experience.
She took out her compact and checked her make-up. "What’s the use?" she thought. "It’ll be gone in a few minutes anyway." Just then, she looked up and saw her three beautiful children heading toward her. She stood up and stretched out her arms. All three of them moved into her loving, warm embrace without a word. They all stood there for the longest time, no one wanting to let go.
Finally, Gracie cleared her throat and in a very quiet voice, said, "Fran, we’ve all missed you so much."
"I’ve missed you guys too," she replied, giving them each individual hugs before they all sat down. "Well," she continued, trying to sound cheerful. "What are we gonna have? This is my treat, so order anything you want."
"I’m not really very hungry," said Maggie.
"Neither am I," Brighton added.
"Me either," Gracie stated.
"Oh, come on. Ya gotta eat. This place has great pizza. How about I order an extra-large, and we can all share?" Fran said in the most upbeat tone she could muster.
They all agreed that sounded fine. Maggie, Brighton and Gracie didn’t really care what they ate. All they really wanted was to see Fran. They had missed her so much since she had left three weeks before and, although they had a pretty good idea why, they still needed to hear some explanation from her. They knew they’d never get more than a cursory response from their father, even if they dared to ask him.
The waiter appeared and took their order. After he left, Fran put her best forced smile on her face and said, "So, tell me, what have you all been doing with yourselves?"
The three just shuffled awkward glances among them. Brighton couldn’t stand it any longer. "Fran," he blurted out, "why did you leave us?"
Fran reached over and took his hand. "Oh, honey, I didn’t leave you guys. It’s just that I couldn’t stay any longer. Things just…" she searched for some way to answer him. "…weren’t working out."
"You mean between you and dad," Maggie said.
Fran reached over and cupped her chin gently. "Yes, sweetie. It had nothing to do with you guys."
Brighton yanked his hand from hers. "Nothing to do with us? It had everything to do with us. You were our nanny! And you just walked out without even saying good-bye." He looked away from her, trying to control his temper. He hated what had happened, but he wasn’t a ten-year-old anymore. He took a deep breath and said, "I’m sorry, Fran. It’s just that we’re all having a hard time understanding why you would do that."
How could she explain it to them when she really didn’t completely understand it herself? She looked at each of their expectant faces and felt the tears that began filling her eyes. "It’s very complicated," she finally offered. She reached into her purse and grabbed a handful of tissues. She took a moment to wipe her tears and gather herself. God, this was going to be even harder than she had thought.
Maggie couldn’t hide her exasperation with the whole situation. How could two seemingly intelligent adults be so irrational when it came to their feelings for each other? With a pointed tone, she stated, "Fran, it’s not that complicated. Dad’s in love with you, and we know you love him too. Why can’t you two just admit that and get past your differences?"
"I wish it was that simple, honey," Fran stated earnestly.
"Are you saying there’s no chance you two will work it out?" Maggie asked slightly alarmed.
Fran took a deep breath. She couldn’t look at them. With her head down, she spoke very quietly, "That’s what I’m saying. There’s no chance. Whatever your father and I had, it’s over."
Gracie could hardly speak over the lump in her throat. "Can’t you come home and still be our nanny even if things didn’t work out between you and dad?"
Fran looked up at her baby, desperate for a way to make her understand. The only way, she realized, was to be honest and straightforward. "No. I’m sorry. I can’t come back. And I’m sorry I left without saying good-bye, but that’s why I invited you all to lunch today. So we could, you know, get together and talk, and…" She wiped at her eyes again.
Maggie spoke up. "Fran, are you telling us good-bye now? Are you saying you’re out of our lives forever?"
Fran looked at all of them trying to read their expressions. "Well, I guess that depends on what you guys want. It’s true that I’m not your nanny anymore, but I still love you guys as if you were my own, and that will never change. And I would love to still be a part of your lives, if that’s what you all want."
"Yes!" they all blurted out at once. And that’s when Fran’s tears came in torrents. She had been terrified that leaving Mr. Sheffield had meant giving up her children too. And while the one had been agonizing, the other on top of it would have been simply unbearable. Fran couldn’t get herself under control as the deep sobs made it difficult for her to catch her breath. She had never felt such relief in her life. Finally, Brighton got up out of his seat and took her hand. Pulling her to her feet, he put his arms around her as she buried her face on his shoulder and let it all out. Maggie and Gracie got up and comforted her with gentle pats on the back until at last her tears subsided. When she raised her head and looked at them, she could see that they had tears of their own in their eyes. She took a deep breath and with a quivering voice, said, "I love you guys."
"We love you, Fran," they all said in unison.
Fran looked around as she put the soggy tissue to her eyes. "I guess we’re really putting on a show here." Laughing through their tears, they all took their seats again. "Well," she said, taking a deep breath, "now that we got that taken care of, Gracie, I guess you got a birthday coming up. So, what’s on your wish list?"
Gracie hesitated for a few moments. Then she looked intently at Fran and in the saddest voice Fran had ever heard from her, said, "I’ve only got one thing on my wish list, and I guess I’m not gonna get it."
"Oh, sweetie, I’m sorry. I know it’s hard, but sometimes things just don’t turn out like we want them to, no matter how hard we wish for them," Fran said.
"Will you at least come to my birthday party?" Gracie asked hopefully.
"Oh, honey, I don’t think so. Your father and I just can’t really face each other right now. You don’t want us ruining your birthday party. I’ll tell you what. Why don’t I take you out to some place fun for your birthday? How does that sound?"
Gracie gave her a little smile. It was going to take a long time to come to terms with the fact that Fran was never going to be a real mother to her as she had been dreaming since she was six years old. But at least Fran would still be in her life, and Gracie would always think of her as her mother, no matter what happened. "Ok," she managed to say.
Just then, their pizza arrived, and Fran breathed a "Thank God," before inviting everyone to dig in. By that point, they were all feeling so relieved that they had agreed to stay close that they had regained their appetites, at least somewhat, and managed to enjoy their pizza and some fairly upbeat conversation.
"You know, Fran," Maggie said, "I never thought I would say this, but I’ve really missed having Sylvia around the house. And Val too. Would you please give them my love?"
"Of course, sweetie. And they miss you guys too. I’m sure we can all find ways to get together. I’ll invite them when we go out for Gracie’s birthday, and you guys come too," she said looking at Maggie and Brighton. Putting down her pizza and picking up her purse, she continued, "Here—I’m going to give you all my cell phone number. I want you to call me any time, if you have a question or a problem, or even if it’s just to talk. And we’ll see each other as often as we can." She wrote her cell phone number on a piece of paper and handed it to Maggie. Then she thought of something and realized that she might have overstepped just a bit. "I mean, as long as it’s ok with your father," she added.
Maggie, Brighton, and Gracie all looked at each other uncomfortably. Then, Brighton spoke up. "I don’t really think dad will mind. We told him we were meeting you today for lunch, and he didn’t really seem to care."
Fran was a bit surprised at that. "Well, that’s good, I guess." She couldn’t help but wonder why he hadn’t thrown a fit about the kids having lunch with her. The last time she’d seen him, he’d been so furious, she wouldn’t have been surprised if he forbade any of the Sheffields, including Niles, to ever see her again. "So, he wasn’t mad?"
"Not really," Gracie said. "In fact, except for being all caught up in his new play, he hasn’t really gotten too bent out of shape over anything the last few weeks."
Fran compared what the kids had just told her to the way she’d spent the last three weeks. Hours of crying, eating binges, chunks of time when she did nothing but stare at the wall. The only thing, she knew, that had allowed her to recover enough to invite the kids to lunch that day was Jeff. Thank God for Jeff. He had been so understanding and had given her so much comfort. In fact, he was just like the Rock of Gibraltar for her. She didn’t even want to think about what kind of state she’d be in if it weren’t for him.
And Mr. Sheffield had been just business as usual, according to the kids. Well, if Fran had had any notion that her leaving had been painful for him, that information had just nipped it in the bud. Maggie suddenly realized that Gracie’s comment had disconcerted Fran a bit. She spoke up, "Well, you know dad. He never really shows his true feelings. He’s been just burying himself in his work lately, so we really haven’t seen much of him."
The truth was, Maggie wasn’t really sure what was going on with her dad. On the outside, he seemed to be taking the whole thing in stride. He’d been a little testy at times, but when was he not? On the other hand, he had called in a decorator the day after Val and Sylvia had packed up and moved out all of Fran’s things. To walk into that room now, no one would ever know Fran had lived there for the last five years. It was as if he was determined to rid himself of any trace of her. In addition to her room being transformed, all the pictures of her had disappeared from around the house, and the three of them had learned right away that no mention of her was to be made to their father.
After finishing their dessert, they all gave each other big hugs and Fran promised Gracie to call her soon to set up her birthday outing. Fran walked them out to the limo and stood waving good-bye. She was absolutely ecstatic to know that, although she would never become a real mother to them as she had once dreamed, at least they would remain an important part of each other’s lives. She hailed a taxi and, after giving the driver her Queens address, pulled out her compact. "Oh, God," she said aloud. It was a good thing she was going straight home.
At that very moment, Max sat at his desk looking over some ticket designs for his upcoming play. He kept glancing at the clock, wondering when his children would be home from their lunch date with her. He couldn’t even manage to say her name to himself. It was just too painful. He knew it would be wrong to keep the kids from seeing her. The four of them just meant too much to each other. No matter what had happened between him and Miss Fine, she had been a wonderful nanny to his children, and he shuddered to think of how they might have turned out if she hadn’t come into their lives. He was thankful for that, but why the hell did she have to go and make him fall in love with her? After three weeks of living without her, it was becoming apparent that he would simply never get over her. He would be in love with her forever, and he would just have to learn to deal with that. And the only way he could do that was to erase all the reminders of her from his life and do everything in his power to keep all thoughts of her pushed aside. That’s why, even though he was dying to know how she was doing, he wouldn’t ask the kids anything about their lunch date with her. For his own sanity, he was better off not knowing.
So once again, just like the last time he’d had a piece of his heart torn away, he buried himself in his work while at the same time burying his own spirit deep inside.
******************
"Fra-a-an!" Sylvia called in her most grating voice as she headed for the front door of their Flushing apartment. "Jeff’s here!" She threw the door open and held out her arms to him. He stepped inside and gave Sylvia a kiss on the cheek.
"A little louder, Ma," called Fran from the bedroom. "I don’t think they heard ya in Brooklyn."
"Come on in, sweetheart," Sylvia said to Jeff. "She’ll be just a few minutes." She motioned for Jeff to have a seat on the plastic-encased couch. "So, tell me," she said, joining him on the sofa, "any big plans for this evening? You know, a candlelight dinner, a carriage ride in the park, maybe a little something sparkly at the end of the evening?"
"Ma-a-a-a!" screeched Fran coming into the living room. Jeff just laughed and shook his head.
"Wha?" Sylvia asked innocently, craning her head around to look at Fran. "I was just offering a few suggestions. There’s nothing wrong with that."
Fran scurried around throwing things into her purse. She took one quick look in the mirror before saying, "Come on, Jeff. Let’s go." She grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the door.
Just as Fran opened it, Jeff turned to Sylvia. "Thanks for the suggestions. I’ll give them some serious thought," he said with a wink.
As they rode down the elevator, Fran just shook her head. "Can you believe her?"
"Honey, don’t worry about it," he said, slipping his arm around her waist and pulling her to him. "She didn’t say anything that I haven’t already thought about myself." She turned and looked at him with her eyebrows raised. "Don’t look so surprised," he stated openly. "You know how I feel. I love you, and I’m not going anywhere."
She turned in his embrace and wrapped her arms around him. This was so new to her—having a man wait for her to make a decision. It always seemed to take her by surprise whenever he brought it up. It was wonderful to know that she was loved so completely and to be sure that no matter how long it took for her to come to terms with her feelings, he would be there ready. She gave him a sweet kiss and hoped he knew just how much she appreciated the love and comfort she had come to count on from him.
They walked out the front door of the apartment building and got into Jeff’s car. On the way to the restaurant, Fran became lost in thought thinking about how much her life had changed. It had been nearly five months since she had walked out of the Sheffield mansion. Moving back home with her parents had required a bit of an adjustment, but she was just glad to have a stable and warm environment to go to while she worked on regaining a sense of direction. She had tried a couple of other nanny positions, but found that her heart just wasn’t in it. So she had been more than happy when Sylvia had come home telling her that Mrs. Feldman-across-the-hall’s son was looking for a sales girl in his home décor shop. Fran had always had a fondness for beautiful objects and pretty little tsatchkes, loving how they added warmth and atmosphere to a place. And Mrs. Feldman’s son was very nice to work for, so she’d made the job hers and found that it suited her perfectly, at least for the time being. Her boss was pleasantly surprised at how quickly she picked up on the business end of things and had even started relying on her to make some inventory and sales decisions.
Jeff looked over at her and couldn’t help wondering why she appeared so lost in thought. He was hoping she was thinking about him, or at least about their relationship. He knew that she had a lot to sort out, but he loved her so much he was willing to wait as long as it took. He had let her know from the very beginning how much he cared and how he wanted to be there for her, and he had recently started allowing himself to think that maybe she was ready to return his love. Every time he told her he loved her, he thought he could see in her eyes a brief wavering, a fleeting moment when it looked as if she just might say those three words he had been dying to hear. But then she would take a deep breath and just give him one of those gorgeous smiles of hers. He knew how much she’d been hurt, and he wasn’t going to push. He just thanked God every day that they were together and he could show her how much he loved her. He reached over and took her hand and squeezed it. She looked at him and smiled and then fell back into her reverie.
Fran couldn’t believe how lucky she was to find a guy like Jeff. He was so sweet and loving, and she knew for certain that she would never find anyone who loved her more. But he was also a perfect gentleman. He allowed her to set the pace of their relationship, and she was very thankful for that. She had to admit, though, that she really felt it was time to pick things up a bit. She found herself thinking about him almost all of the time these days and what it would be like to be married to him. And it was getting easier and easier to push any thoughts of Maxwell Sheffield to the back burner. Whenever she would see one of the kids or talk to Niles on the phone, all the memories would come rushing back. But four months ago, it would have taken her several hours to recover from it. Now things were different. She’d had lunch with Brighton and Gracie just yesterday, and as soon as Jeff showed up to pick her up, all thoughts of her former life and her old dream of marrying Mr. Sheffield just dissipated. In fact, she realized later in the day, she’d hardly given him a thought. And, besides, according to what the kids had told her that day at lunch, her leaving didn’t appear to have affected him much at all. Yes, it was definitely time to let Jeff know she had made a lot of progress moving beyond all of that and was feeling ready to put her whole heart into their relationship.
They pulled up to the restaurant and found a parking spot right outside the door. When they got inside, Fran looked around and was impressed by the elegant, romantic atmosphere. They were seated at a quiet little corner table, and the waiter appeared immediately with a bottle of champagne. "I didn’t even see you order this," Fran remarked.
Jeff smiled, pleased with himself for impressing her. "I arranged it ahead of time. I was hoping tonight would be special. Of course, any night with you is special."
Fran blushed slightly. They waited for their glasses to be poured, and then Jeff held his up to her. "What shall we toast to?" he asked.
Fran thought for just a moment. Then she leaned forward and looked directly into his blue eyes. "To us," she said.
"To us," he repeated, his love for her evident on his face. They clinked glasses and took a sip. After ordering the lobster, they enjoyed talking about all the little things that had been going on in their daily lives. Jeff loved watching her eyes light up as she described to him some of the items she had ordered for the shop where she worked. He was so happy that she had found something she loved to do and that had helped her get past her nanny days.
When their dinner arrived, Jeff delighted in seeing her get excited over the delicious lobster and twice-baked potato. He would never understand how she could maintain her stunningly beautiful body and put away the food she did, but it was just another thing about her that fascinated him. She was an enigma in so many ways, and he just hoped that they had the rest of their lives together so he could attempt to figure her out.
After they finished eating, Jeff took the last sip of his champagne and said, "You know, Fran, I’ve had a wonderful time with you so far tonight, but I don’t really like having to sit here with this table in between us. Let’s go some place where I can hold you close for the rest of the evening. How about dancing at the Skylight Room?"
Fran’s face lit up. She loved that place and its romantic atmosphere. "Oh, Jeff, I’d love to, but can you afford that on a cop’s salary?"
"Don’t worry about that. When it comes to making you happy, there’s nothing I wouldn’t do." That statement, he knew, would hold true not only for this evening, but for the rest of their lives.
As soon as they arrived at the Skylight Room, they made their way to the dance floor, and Jeff breathed a deeply blissful sigh as he pulled Fran into his arms, inhaling her perfume and feeling her body against his. He couldn’t resist placing his lips gently on the soft skin of her neck beneath her ear.
As they moved to the gentle rhythm of the love song, Fran relished the feelings that being so close to him stirred inside her. She knew it was his love that had made her feel like a whole person again after the devastation she had experienced, and the strong emotions she was feeling were way beyond simple gratitude for rescuing her. As they continued to dance, those emotions continued welling up in her until she was finally ready to put a name to them. Placing a tender kiss on his lips, she looked intently into his eyes and said, "I love you."
Jeff’s mouth fell open. He’d heard it! And she hadn’t said it as an instinctive response to his declaration. She’d said it freely and he had definitely heard it. The three precious words he had been praying to hear from her. As it sunk in, the look of shock on his face was replaced by one of sheer joy. He picked her up and spun her around several times, drawing strange looks from the other dancers.
Finally, he set her down and studied her expression. "Are you sure? I mean, I know you’ve been through a lot, and I don’t want to push you or anything, but I really hope I heard you right, and, oh my God, I love you so much." Fran just stood there enjoying his jubilant outburst. It felt wonderful to watch a man get so excited by her declaration of love—it was the first time in her life that had ever happened to her. Yes, she did truly love him, and she knew he loved her. At last, the stars had lined up for her and the timing was perfect. Jeff loved her and she loved him.
Suddenly, he was kissing her with a passion that took her breath away. She put her arms around his shoulders and felt him pull her to him tightly as they became completely lost in each other, forgetting that they were in the middle of a dance floor in a very public restaurant and putting on quite a display. When they finally broke their kiss and looked at each other, both found tears of joy filling the other’s eyes.
His voice choking with emotion, he pressed his forehead to hers and said, "I’ve never been this happy in my life." She bestowed upon him one of her beautiful smiles and they both basked in the warmth that enveloped them.
Jeff knew exactly what he wanted to do next. He had been ready for this moment for months, and it took everything in him to keep from dropping on one knee right there on the dance floor, pulling out the little velvet box he’d been placing all his hopes and dreams on, and proposing. But she had only just declared her feelings, and he didn’t want to rush her. He’d won her heart, and that was enough to make this moment the most special of his life. To be honest, though, he knew he wouldn’t be able to hold out too long. It would only be a matter of days before that little velvet box would be out of his pocket in hopes that he could slip the beautiful solitaire onto her finger, and then his joy would be complete.
The band began playing "Love of a Lifetime," and Fran and Jeff smiled at each other as they began moving to the beautiful melody. Could this evening get any more perfect? Fran placed her head on his shoulder and drank in the bliss of being held in the arms of the man who loved her so completely and whom she loved in return. It was truly a moment of a lifetime.
****************
Fran wiped the back of her hand across her forehead trying to brush away the wisps of hair that kept falling in her eyes. She glanced at the clock—only fifteen minutes until Jeff would be home from work. She looked around the kitchen and knew immediately she would never have dinner ready in time. "What the hell was I thinking?" she wondered. Why had she ever volunteered to cook dinner for him? She really wasn’t much of a cook; in fact, she truly couldn’t cook at all. She was much better at knowing all the good take-out restaurants.
She looked down at the beautiful diamond sparkling on her left hand and smiled. Only three more months until their wedding, and she was determined to become the best wife she could for the man she loved. And one of the ways to do that was to learn how to cook so she could welcome him home from work each night with a delicious home-cooked meal. Well, maybe not delicious, but at least good, and maybe not every night, but at least every once in a while. So she had picked up a couple of cookbooks and studied the recipes until she found one she thought she could handle. Jeff had given her the key to his apartment months ago, so she had made a trip to the grocery store on her lunch hour and had let herself into his apartment after getting off work a couple of hours early. She had been at it for a while now and was surprised at how little progress she had made. But she wasn’t surprised at all by how big a mess she’d made.
After getting a large pot of water to boil, she tossed in the linguine just as she heard the front door opening. "Damn!" she said out loud. "He’s early."
"Hi, honey. I’m home," he called from the living room in his best sit-com voice. As he headed into the kitchen, he said, "What’s for dinner? I’m starv—" He stopped short when he got a good look at her and the mess that surrounded her. "Oh, my God!" he exclaimed.
"Hi, sweetie. Dinner’s going to be just a little bit longer," she said, trying to look cheerfully confident.
He walked around the island and placed a kiss on her cheek. "How long have you been at this?" he asked.
"Oh, I started about 3:30, I guess," she answered as she continued slicing tomatoes for the salad.
He reached over and tucked the stray strands of hair behind her ear. "Honey, I really appreciate this, but why don’t we just go out tonight? You can cook for me another time when you can get an earlier start."
"No way, mister," she pouted. "I told you I was going to cook for you tonight, and that’s what I’m doing. Now why don’t you pour us some wine and just relax for a little while. I’ll let you know when it’s ready."
Jeff was so touched by her efforts. He knew that Fran wasn’t exactly Martha Stewart when he’d asked her to marry him, but that didn’t make any difference to him. The important thing was he’d found the love of his life and she had accepted his proposal and nothing could make him happier. He opened the wine and poured them each a glass. When she reached for hers, he noticed two band-aids on her fingers. "What happened?" he asked.
She held them up for him to kiss. "I’m injured. Don’t you think you’ve got your knives just a little too sharp?"
Jeff couldn’t hide his laughter as he took off his jacket and hung it over the back of the chair. Rolling up his sleeves, he headed for the refrigerator to take out the rest of the ingredients for the salad.
"What are you doing?" Fran asked.
"I don’t want to hurt your feelings, sweetheart, but I’m really hungry, and I’d like to eat sometime before I go to bed tonight. So I’m helping."
"But I wanted to cook for you," she protested.
He put the items on the counter and wrapped his arms around her pulling her to him. He said, "I really appreciate it, but it’ll be more fun if we do it together. Ok?"
"Ok," she acquiesced reluctantly.
He gave her a quick kiss and said, "Now, let’s see about this sauce." He reached toward the spice rack and grabbed a few bottles. He shook some of each out into his cupped hand and tossed the mixture into the pot.
Fran watched him, impressed at how at ease he seemed to be in the kitchen. She noticed that his tie was hanging dangerously close to the sauce, so she grabbed a towel and wiped off her hands. "Wait a second, sweetie," she said as she turned him around to face her. Loosening his tie, she pulled it from around his neck and tossed it onto his jacket. Then she unbuttoned his collar and said, "There, isn’t that better?"
He leaned in for a soft kiss that quickly became another and then another. She kept her hands resting on his chest and couldn’t help noticing the feel of his muscles beneath his shirt. "Yes-s," he said, looking deeply into her eyes. "Much better." Then he pulled her against him and gave her a kiss so passionate, she felt a little light-headed.
When he finally broke their kiss, Fran said, "Well, if you liked that so much, why don’t we try this?" She unbuttoned the next three buttons and slid her hands inside.
"I think I like that even more," he told her with a twinkle in his eyes, "but if you keep that up, we’ll never get to dinner."
She gave him another kiss and turned back to her tomatoes. He watched her for a minute and cringed every time the knife blade came perilously close to her thumb. "Uh, do you mind if I make a suggestion?" he asked diplomatically.
"Wha?" she tossed over her shoulder.
He came up and brought his arms around her from behind. Taking the sharp slicer from her, he said gently, "Try holding the knife like this." He demonstrated making a few cuts with ease.
"Oh, okay," she said. She took the knife back from him and switched it to her left hand. She attempted to imitate his technique, but still looked a bit awkward.
"I see the problem," he said in mock seriousness. "You’re doing it backwards."
"It’s not backwards!" she objected. "I’m left-handed!"
He wrapped his arms tightly around her waist from behind and pulled her up against him before she could turn around and give him hell. She started squirming trying to get free, but immediately stopped when she felt his lips on the soft skin under her ear. "Mmm," she moaned, tilting her head to expose more skin to him. He felt her relax up against him as he continued placing soft nips up and down her neck. The sensation of holding her so close and feeling her tender skin beneath his mouth was one that he knew he would never tire of, but they had things to do. He squeezed her to him and spoke quietly into her ear. "Honey, I love that you want to make me dinner, but not at such risk of injury. Please just go stir the sauce and let me finish the salads."
She moved over to the stove, and Jeff had two tasty salads assembled within minutes. He took them into the dining room and was taken aback when he saw the trouble she had taken to make the dinner special. A lovely centerpiece of fresh-cut flowers was flanked by two tapers waiting to be lit. And even though she had used his everyday dishes, he noted the napkins tied up in handmade rings. He was extremely touched by her efforts to make the evening special just for him, and he vowed in that instant that he would always do his utmost to show her his love through all the little things he could do for her.
He went back into the kitchen just as Fran was saying, "Come here and taste this sauce to see if it needs anything else." He walked over and she held out the spoon to him. Just as she got it to his mouth, a small dollop landed on his chin. "Uh-oh," she sang. "Made a little mess-y here." She wiped it from his chin and licked her finger. "Mmm!" she exclaimed. "That’s good!" She turned the spoon around and put it in her mouth.
Jeff immediately kissed her swirling his tongue around her lips. Grinning at her, he said, "My thoughts exactly." But Jeff’s grin faded when he noted the serious look in her eyes.
She put her hand behind his neck and drew his mouth down to her own. She kissed him hungrily, her tongue sliding into his mouth seeking to spar with his. She heard a moan rise up from him as she felt his hands moving up and down her back. He returned the passion of her kisses as the tingling she felt in her stomach set in motion a warm rush throughout her body. Suddenly, she didn’t want to play games anymore. She was in love, and she wanted nothing more at that moment than to show him just how much.
She looked up into his clear blue eyes and she could read what was there because she knew it mirrored what was in her own. Finally, she found her voice. "Just how hungry are you?" she croaked out.
"Absolutely ravenous," he whispered.
Fran set the spoon down on the stove and reached over to turn off the burners. She took him by the hand and pulled him toward the bedroom. Just outside the door, he stopped her. "Fran, sweetheart, are you sure? I don’t want you to do anything you’re not ready for."
She gave his hand a tug as she said, "Just get in here and you’ll see what ready looks like."
She pulled him into the bedroom and turned to face him. She quickly undid the rest of his buttons and slid his shirt from his shoulders. She took just a moment to run her eyes over and admire the toned muscles of his chest and stomach. Then she pulled her sweater off over her head and reached for the front hook of her black lace bra. He brought his hand up to still her motions. "Let me," he whispered, looking deeply into her eyes.
His eyes locked on hers, he gave the hook a small tug and then reached up to slide the straps off her shoulders and down her arms. Only then did he let his eyes move down, and he suddenly drew in a sharp breath. The brief glance he’d had that night in the Poconos hadn’t done her justice, and he just stood there in awe.
She put her hand on the back of his neck and drew his head down to where his eyes were fixed. As his mouth captured the already taut peak, she let go a moan that filled the room. He played gently at first with his tongue and then teased with his teeth. Then drawing all of the tip into his mouth, he sucked until she cried out. When he moved over to give the other equal attention, Fran was afraid her knees were about to give out from under her.
She put her hands on both sides of his head and gently guided him back up to her mouth, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and pressing her breasts against his bare chest. He thought he would die at the sensation of it. He kissed her over and over and wondered fleetingly if he would ever in his life get enough of her kisses. Then he felt her hands at his belt tugging gently at first and then with increasing earnestness. When he felt his waistband loosen and heard the zipper going down, his heart began pounding as it never had before. He was about to make love to a beautiful woman with whom he was madly in love, and it was the most wonderful feeling he’d ever experienced in his life.
And he couldn’t wait another second. He quickly dispensed with the rest of his clothes and together they got rid of hers.
He lay back on the bed and pulled her down on top of him. He put his arms around her and held her tightly as their lips sought each other’s and their tongues took turns bathing the insides of their mouths. Finally, she raised her head up just enough for them to lock eyes and make that deep connection. He could only manage a whisper, but she could hear the sincerity as he said, "I love you so much, and I will love you for the rest of my life."
The authenticity in his voice brought tears of joy to her eyes and she could only mouth back to him, "I love you." He rolled her over and began a trail of hot kisses across her cheek and down her neck. He found a spot at the base of her throat that caused her to let out a raspy moan and wrap her legs around his waist. "Please," she spoke into his ear.
Her soft cry was all it took for him to place himself at her entrance and push, gently at first and then with increasing pressure as he heard her suck in a sharp breath and felt her hands grab his hips and pull him toward her. He thought he was going to die at the anticipation of being completely inside the woman he loved so much. He pushed again and felt himself go deep within her, and a cry tore from his throat.
He set a gentle rhythm at first, and she matched the motion of his hips with her own. He raised himself up on his elbows so he could watch her beautiful face awash in passion, and it took his breath away. But he couldn’t maintain the slow rhythm a second longer. His tremendous love and desire for her overtook him, and he began to drive more forcefully as she met him stroke for stroke.
He was moments away from exploding, and he concentrated all his efforts on holding back. It was the most exquisite torture he’d ever felt. Suddenly, her breathing deepened and her head fell back as her eyes closed. A small cry of ecstasy caught in her throat as he felt her inner walls contract and watched her body begin to convulse. It was his undoing. He poured himself into her as they rode the waves of joy as one. He slid his arms under her and crushed her to him as they relished the last few moments of ecstasy together.
She opened her eyes and looked into his, seeing more love there than she had ever known. She gave him a sweet kiss, and he rolled over carrying her with him as they waited together for their breathing to return to normal. Soon, a slow smile crept across her face. "Still hungry?" she inquired.
"Always," he smiled back at her. She started to slide off of him but he still held her snugly against him. She looked at him expectantly. "I want to make sure you know something. I am so deeply and passionately in love with you, and I will love you this way as long as I live."
She took a deep breath and savored his words. "I know," she said, placing her hand tenderly on his cheek. "And I love you." She gave him a sweet kiss and stood up. She picked his shirt up off the floor and put it on, buttoning it up from the bottom. Then she found her thong and slithered into it. Jeff just lay there on the bed staring. He watched her pad out of the room in his shirt that looked more like a dress on her and realized that he’d never witnessed anything sexier in his life.
He got up, pulled on his pants and followed her out of the room. Seeing that she had already lit the candles in the dining room, he went to help her dish up their dinner. He refilled their wine glasses and brought them in just as she was placing their plates on the table. As he pulled her chair out for her, she laughed out loud at the contrast provided by his gallant actions and their extremely casual attire. Holding up his wine glass to her, he said, "To you, for making me the happiest man on earth."
She blushed slightly, and responded, "To you, for loving me so unconditionally." They each took a sip, and then turned their attention to their linguine. Fran took a bite and her eyes lit up. "Mmm—I did good. This is yummy!"
Taking a bite of his, Jeff nodded in agreement. "Delicious. Hey, how about if you cook for me every night?"
Reaching over to comb her fingers lightly through his hair, she lowered her voice to that seductive tone and said, "Sweetie, you can count on it."
******************
Max leaned his head back on the limo seat and let out an exhausted breath. It was getting close to midnight, and he’d had a very long day at the theater, but still he dreaded going home. He thought about what a different meaning that word had for him now. Only a few short months ago home was warm and lively and where he always wanted to be, surrounded by his family. Now he found excuses not to go there, staying at the theater too late and making out-of-town trips that weren’t really necessary. Home was just too damn quiet now with the kids all so busy with their own lives. But mostly the silence was due to the absence of one particular person—the one who had made it a home and had turned them back into a real family.
He was just going to have to get used to the way things were now. She would never be a part of their family again. Oh, he knew she still saw the kids on occasion, but she would never be a real part like she could have been if he’d only been man enough to be honest about his feelings for her and let her know just how much he loved her. But, damn it! He had told her he cared, and it just hadn’t been enough to make her stay. She wanted more from him, and he just couldn’t give it to her. In fact, he still didn’t know if he could make the kind of commitment she wanted—hell, the kind she deserved. Even after suffering the pain of losing her these last few months, he wasn’t sure he could do it if she were sitting there next to him at that very moment stating those words that had delivered the blow, "I’m saying it’s now or never, mister." He still felt so guilty over his beloved Sara. And what if he did make a commitment and their extreme differences kept things from working out? Surely the utter devastation of that would be greater than what he was feeling now. Wouldn’t it be? But how could anything hurt more than this?
Up until a few weeks ago, he’d still held a small sliver of hope. He had still thought that once he came to terms with his feelings, he could go to her and lay his heart on the line and she would fall into his arms and everything would be wonderful again. Surely she still loved him. You don’t just stop loving someone overnight. At least, he knew he still loved her. In fact, he was absolutely certain he would love her for the rest of his life. But his dream had been shattered the day he had received that invitation. He remembered getting home that day, just like any other day, and walking over to the foyer table and picking up the mail as he had thousands of times. He recalled casually perusing the items until he saw it, and suddenly it was as if someone had slammed him in the gut with a sledgehammer. The words were seared into his brain, "Mr. and Mrs. Morton Fine request the honor of your presence at the marriage of their daughter Francine Joy to Mr. Jeffrey Michael Sheehan."
And now just thinking about those words made him sick to his stomach. It had been addressed to the entire family, but surely that was just as a courtesy. There was no way she would want him there, and there was no way in hell he could endure the pain of watching her marry another man. He knew Maggie, Brighton, Gracie and Niles were all planning to attend, but he would make sure to be as far away as possible. In fact, he had been thinking about visiting his family in London, and that would be the perfect weekend to go. He wondered if putting the entire Atlantic Ocean between them would be enough to help him survive the day, but he had to give it a shot.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet. He slid her picture out of its spot and turned on the overhead reading lamp. He was instantly mesmerized by the sparkle that emanated from those beautiful chocolate almond eyes and that gorgeous smile that made his heart race. God, how he loved that smile! But the last time he’d seen her, she hadn’t been smiling. In fact, the last few times they’d been together, her face had displayed only the pain that he had caused her. He knew she would be happy on her wedding day, but it was someone else who would bring that captivating smile to her face. He looked at the picture again and had to blink his eyes several times. He could have sworn it had morphed into an image of Fran wearing a bridal veil, and it shook him to the core. It was already too late for them, he knew, and the day she walked down that aisle to marry the man who was thrilled to give her everything she asked for was the day a part of his heart would die. He wiped the wetness that had formed at the corners of his eyes, slipped her picture back into his wallet, and switched off the light of his life.
*****************
Fran glanced down at the beautiful bouquet of white roses she held in her hand. She couldn’t believe that after all the years of hoping and dreaming, her wedding day had arrived at last. She lifted her eyes and looked down the aisle to see Jeff waiting for her under the chuppah. He was so handsome in his tuxedo, but what she was most struck by was the look of pure love and joy on his face.
As she stood waiting for the first notes of the bride’s processional, she allowed herself a few minutes of reflection. She drifted back to her life only eight short months before when she had believed with her whole heart that she and Maxwell Sheffield were meant to be together. She permitted her heart, only for a moment or so, to summon up thoughts of the deep love she had held for him and to bask briefly in the dream she’d cherished that one day she would walk down the aisle toward those gorgeous green eyes.
But she realized now that all that had been just a fantasy and that Jeff was real and his love for her was real. He was the man of her dreams now, and she was so thankful that fate had brought them together. She would be indebted to him for the rest of her life for saving her from the heartache that any kind of a relationship with Mr. Sheffield was sure to bring her. But while she loved Jeff deeply, she admitted to herself that there would always be a small piece of her heart that belonged to no one but Maxwell Sheffield. As she heard the first strains of the bride’s processional, she set aside that other dream and took her first steps toward the life that she now believed she was meant to share with Jeff.
In the Jewish tradition, both her parents walked alongside her down the aisle. As she reached Jeff and joined him under the chuppah, she couldn’t control her tears of joy and she could tell that he too was overcome with emotion. They listened as the cantor delivered the blessing and then turned to each other. Val held her bouquet as Jeff’s brother Sean stood by with the ring. Jeff took both Fran’s hands in his as he stated his vows to her, promising with all his heart to love, honor and cherish her for the rest of his life. Barely able to find her voice, Fran spoke her vows quietly, "To have and to hold, from this day forward, forsaking all others for as long as we both shall live."
While the ceremony itself was elegantly understated, the reception was quite the celebration. After Sylvia finally managed to get over her blubbering, she became a most gracious hostess encouraging everyone to eat, drink and dance the night away. She and Morty stood by along with John and Elizabeth Sheehan watching Fran and Jeff dance their first dance together as husband and wife. The two new mothers-in-law hugged each other, both so happy that their children had each found their soul mate and taking joy in seeing the love between them.
Jeff’s parents had been immediately taken with Fran the night he had brought her to dinner, and they were thrilled to welcome her into the family. They could tell right away that her open and vivacious personality was a perfect match for their son, and they were thankful that he had found the one who could make him truly happy forever. And Jeff’s brother just could not stop ribbing him, reminding him constantly that he was marrying way above him and that he had better get down on his knees and thank his lucky stars every night.
The only bittersweet moment came when Niles and the Sheffield children came up to congratulate the two of them, and Fran was suddenly reminded of that other dream she had pushed aside just before walking down the aisle. Maggie, Brighton and Gracie each hugged her and Jeff, offering their congratulations and exclaiming what a beautiful bride Fran was.
Gracie held onto Fran the longest, unable to let go until she finally lifted her head from Fran’s shoulder and looked at her with tears in her eyes. "I really am happy for you Fran," she said, hoping she sounded more sincere than she felt.
"I know you are, sweetie," Fran assured her. "It means so much to hear you say that." Then she hugged all three of them again and promised to call them to get together for lunch as soon as she returned from her honeymoon.
But the hug from Niles was the most poignant, as Fran read a mixture of emotions on his face. Fighting tears, he managed to eek out over the lump in his throat, "Congratulations."
She smiled her thanks to him and gave him another heartfelt hug. She understood how difficult it was for Niles to see her marry Jeff, and she truly appreciated all the love and support Niles had given her during her time with the Sheffields. It would take a long while, she knew, for Niles to accept that his dream for his employer’s happiness had all gone by. After shaking Jeff’s hand, Niles stepped away and disappeared into the throng of guests, looking for a quiet spot to deal with the overwhelming sense of disappointment he was feeling.
Noting the wistful look on his bride’s face, Jeff turned and pulled Fran into his arms. For a brief moment, he allowed a fleeting concern to cross his mind. Just what had she been thinking? Was that a look of nostalgia he saw in her eyes? He kissed her tenderly before saying, "I just want you to know, Mrs. Sheehan, that you have made me the happiest man on earth, and I am looking forward to showing you how very much I love you every day for the rest of our lives."
Fran was so touched by his earnestness. Too overcome for words, she looked into his shining blue eyes and read all the possibilities for their future together. And she foresaw the joy that would be hers knowing that she would always be completely and deeply loved by the man of her dreams.
******************
Max entered the front door and hung his coat in the closet. Just then, Niles came hurrying into the foyer. "Sir, I didn’t expect you home until later this evening. Here, let me take your things."
"Thank you, Niles. Sorry I didn’t call ahead, but I was able to get an earlier flight, and I suddenly found myself rather anxious to get home," Max explained, obviously exhausted.
"And how is everything with your family in London?"
"Just fine. How did everything go around here?"
Niles hesitated. He was nearly certain what his boss was asking. Then, in a sympathetic voice, he informed him, "She’s married, sir."
Max froze as the enormity of Niles’ statement hit him. Well, that was it, he thought to himself. His last tiny bit of hope gone. The small prayer he had been holding in his heart that maybe at the last minute she would back out, maybe she would come to realize that she couldn’t marry someone else, maybe she would call it off because she knew deep down that she and Max were meant to be. But, no. She was married. It was over. She belonged to someone else now, and she would never be his.
A feeling of emptiness crept over his entire body, and it was eerily familiar. He recalled having felt that way one other time in his life, and the pain of it was too much to bear. It had been the moment he’d been told of Sara’s death. And along with it came a sense of utter hopelessness. The only reason he’d been able to survive that first loss was now the object of the second one. How could life be so cruel? How in the hell could one man be expected to endure so much?
Niles stood there observing his boss at a complete loss as to what to do. On the one hand, he wanted to grab him by the shirt collar, shake him and say, "What did I try to tell you? How could you have been such an utter fool?" On the other, he had never felt so much pity for anyone in his life. Desperate to redirect things, he said, "Would you like a drink, sir?"
Max didn’t even hear him. He just stood staring into space, weighed down by the finality of the situation. Niles repeated his offer, and slowly Max turned to him. "What? Oh, yes, thank you, Niles. I’ll have a scotch."
Ploddingly, Max made his way over to the couch. He sat down and leaned forward, putting his head in his hands and propping his elbows on his knees. He dug the heels of his hands into his eyes, rubbing away the tears that had sprung to them. Niles came up beside him and held out the drink, but Max was unaware of his presence. Niles set the glass on the coffee table and slipped out of the room.
"She’s married." Niles’ words reverberated in his brain. That was that. There was nothing he could do about it now. He’d let her slip away. The love of his life gone forever, and all because of his stupid fears. Why couldn’t he have just let his heart rule his head for once? Why had he kept dragging his feet until it was too late? Why had he kept insisting on more time?
If he’d only had more time, he knew things would have worked out for them. If she had just been a little more patient with him. It wasn’t as if he was dealing with something frivolous, for God’s sake. It was Sara’s tragic death that he was trying so desperately to recover from, after all. Why couldn’t she have understood that? Surely she had to have known that he loved her. Why couldn’t that be enough? Why did she have to expect more from him? Why had she demanded something that he just didn’t have to give? At least not yet, anyway.
As the unending stream of questions continued to deluge him, Maxwell realized that his heartache was slowly turning to anger. He’d spent the last few months since she left blaming himself. But, damn it, she was to blame too. Surely she could see how much he’d suffered, but she still insisted that he turn his heart over to her completely. And it was an unreasonable demand. No, they would never be together, but it wasn’t all his fault. She had to share in the blame.
He ran his fingers through his hair and wondered if she felt any guilt at all for what had happened between them. She should feel some if for no other reason than she had left the three beautiful children who loved her as a mother. He stood up from the couch. He was glad he was thinking more clearly about this now. He was willing to admit his mistakes, but he refused to take all the blame. She was as much at fault. God, his head was pounding. He turned and marched toward the kitchen in search of an aspirin. He pushed open the kitchen door and froze. This room had been the scene of their last time together. He stared at the spot where she’d stood when she had delivered that ultimatum and where she’d uttered her final good-bye. How he had come to hate that room! Just walking through it made him numb. He spun on his heels, calling out Niles’ name. Let his butler find the aspirin, damn it. He had to get out of there.
If Fran was feeling any sense of blame for leaving Maxwell Sheffield, it was so far from her mind at that moment it could have been another lifetime. "Come here, Mrs. Sheehan," Jeff commanded tenderly. He reached over and pulled her toward him in the heart-shaped Jacuzzi. He placed a slow, sweet kiss on her mouth as he felt her arms go around his shoulders. If ever he had known absolute bliss, this was it.
He reached over to the edge of the tub and picked up their champagne flutes. Handing Fran’s to her, he held his toward her. "To my beautiful wife, who I love more deeply than I ever thought possible."
Fran felt small tears spring up at his tender words. Holding her glass toward him, she said, "To my wonderful husband, who makes me happier than I ever dreamed."
They touched the rims of their flutes and each took a sip of the bubbly liquid. They looked around at the beautiful mountain setting and deeply inhaled the fresh air. Coming back to the Poconos for their honeymoon had seemed the perfect idea. After all, it had been the place where Jeff had first declared his love for her, and it carried a very special meaning for them.
Fran took a deep breath and wondered if her life could get any more perfect. She had come so far since her days of working in that bridal shop and thinking that Danny Imperiali was the most that life would have to offer her. And although she’d taken a bit of a detour down the path of a Manhattan millionaire, she knew for certain that she had finally reached her dream of a life of her own. She had a handsome, successful husband who loved her beyond measure and a career that she enjoyed and could flourish at. Who knew what part of the dream would come next? A three-bedroom split level? Why not, she asked herself. The way things had been going for her, she had to believe that everything she’d ever hoped for would soon become hers.
**********************
Max poured himself a quick cup of coffee and turned around to head back to his office. He didn’t really have that much work to do, but his office was his sanctuary, as it had always been, and he kept himself ensconced there so as not to have to face the painful truth about his life.
He never thought he would miss the chaos that had once characterized the Sheffield household, but the quiet and solitude that now surrounded him tended to wear him down. Maggie had been married for almost a year, and she and her husband Michael were very happy. It had taken some time for Max to get used to the idea of his little girl growing up and moving out, but when he saw how happy they were, he couldn’t keep from giving them his blessing. And after a year of traveling through Europe, Brighton had entered Harvard and was doing quite well. And Grace was thriving in high school and quite busy with the many activities she was involved in. Most of the time, it was just Max and C.C. working away in the office with Niles scurrying about performing his duties. Funny how the house hadn’t seemed quite so large when it was filled with the joie de vivre brought by a certain nanny. Now it just felt cavernous.
He stopped before heading back through the swinging door and turned around. For the thousandth time, he stood staring at the spot where he’d last seen her. Once again, he could hear the last words she had spoken to him. She had been gone now for nearly two years, and still the vision of their final exchange haunted him every time he walked into that room. Just then, Niles came down the back stairs carrying a basket of laundry. It wasn’t the first time he’d caught his employer in that very spot reliving the heart-breaking scene that had taken place there.
"Sir, can I get you anything?" Niles asked gently.
"What?" Max asked, becoming aware of Niles’ presence. "Oh, no thank you, Niles." Once again, he turned to go back to his office when suddenly an idea occurred to him. Coming back into the kitchen, he said, "Niles, do we still have the number of that decorator who re-did Miss Fi---, uh, the guest room?"
"I’m sure I have it in my files. Shall I get it for you?"
Max stood motionless for a moment, deep in thought. He was very pleased with this new idea of his. It could be just the thing to help him let go completely and put his painful thoughts of her behind him at last. He looked up at Niles with a renewed sense of direction and said, "Go ahead and give him a call. See if you can set up an appointment for this week."
Niles stood there shaking his head after his boss left. How in the world did he think redecorating the kitchen was going to get her out of his thoughts? And it wouldn’t come anywhere close to getting her out of his heart, but at least it might help. The change of scenery might keep him from being flooded with memories every time he walked in there. It was worth a shot, at least. It had been two years, and Niles was all for any measure that would help his employer get beyond the fact that letting Miss Fine go had been the biggest mistake of his life.
Several hours later, Niles came bringing tea into his boss’ office. Max looked up from his work. "Any luck getting a hold of the decorator, Niles?"
"Yes, sir, and unfortunately, he won’t be available for approximately three months. Shall I try another one?"
"Yes, please do that. Three months is too long to wait."
Understanding the reason only too well, Niles said, "The Thompson’s recently had several rooms in their house redone. Their butler was raving about it at the market the other day. Shall I get their decorator’s name?"
"Yes, that sounds like a splendid idea," Max replied. Niles left the tray on Mr. Sheffield’s desk and headed back to the kitchen to make that phone call. He knew he’d better get the appointment set up as soon as possible. There really was no great need to re-do the kitchen, except maybe it would help his boss move beyond what had happened there.
Three days later, Niles knocked on the office door to announce that Mr. Sheffield’s two o’clock appointment had arrived. "Miss Thomas is here, sir," he declared.
"Oh, good," said Max, putting some papers into a file and setting it aside. "Show her in."
Max looked up from his desk just as Laura Thomas came into his office and was taken aback. She looked nothing like he’d expected her to. Her reputation as a seasoned veteran had led him to picture someone much older, brasher, and maybe a bit more presumptuous. But the woman extending her hand to him was petite and blond with a very warm smile. In fact, he couldn’t help but be struck by the fact that she looked vaguely familiar to him.
"Hello," she said in a friendly tone. "I’m Laura."
"Maxwell Sheffield," he stated, standing up and coming around his desk to shake her hand. "Won’t you sit down?" he offered, motioning to the green love seat.
"Thank you," she responded, sitting down. "I understand that you’d like to re-do your kitchen, is that right?"
Max just stared for a few seconds. "Uh, yes, that’s right. Would you like to see it?"
"Well, first I’d just like to visit a little. I like to find out a little about my clients first and get to know something about their tastes and style before I see the room. Would that be all right?" She smiled at him, and Max was struck by the warmth in her blue eyes.
"Of course," he answered, joining her on the love seat. "What would you like to know?"
"Well, first of all, the parts of your home that I’ve seen so far are quite beautiful. May I ask who did them?"
"My wife, actually."
"Oh. Well, she did a lovely job. And why did you decide to hire someone this time for the kitchen?"
Max cleared his throat a bit uncomfortably. "My wife passed away."
"Oh. I’m sorry." Laura paused for a moment studying her new client’s expression. "Well, then, may I assume that you’d like something that would be in keeping with the style of the rest of your home?"
"Uh, yes, of course." Max suddenly realized that maybe he should have prepared a little better for this meeting.
"All right. So, why have you decided to redecorate? What is it about the room that you want changed?" Laura asked, looking at him expectantly.
Max didn’t know how to answer that. He couldn’t tell her the real reason. He couldn’t just say that it tore his heart out to walk in that room and think about what had happened there. "Well, I guess I’m just ready for something new. I’d like it to have a different feel to it. And I don’t have anything in mind as far as style or color. I’ll leave that up to your professional judgment."
Laura was pleasantly surprised. It wasn’t often that a client gave her carte blanche to remodel a room. She had a suspicion that Mr. Sheffield’s motivation had more to do with getting rid of the old rather than wanting something new. Her intuition in these matters was one of the things that made her so good at what she did. These little chats with her clients always seemed to pay off, and this time was no exception.
"Well, then," she said standing up. "Why don’t we go take a look at the kitchen?" Max stood and led the way. They walked through the swinging door and Max stood there watching her walk around, opening cabinet doors and taking a few general measurements. And then it struck him as to why she seemed so familiar. Same height, hair only a shade or two lighter, and the same calm warmth in her manner. Yes, he could see a great deal of resemblance between her and his beloved Sara.
She turned and spoke to him from across the room. "Just to be clear, you’re looking for a new look, a different feel. Nothing drastic such as reconfiguring the layout or moving around the appliances."
Max suddenly realized she’d said something to him. "Excuse me?"
Laura simply smiled at him. "I already have several ideas for this room. Why don’t I draw up a few sketches and have them ready to show you a week from today?"
"That would be just fine. Thank you so much for coming. Niles will show you out." He went back into his office and returned to the contracts he’d been reading. He was pleased with himself. This idea he’d had to eliminate the last vestige of her had to be a positive step. It had been two years, and it was long past time for him to move on with his life. She had certainly moved on with hers.
Just then, Niles knocked on his office door. "Sir, I was wondering if you’d like some tea."
"Yes, thank you." Niles turned to go prepare the tea when Max suddenly stopped him. "Uh, Niles," he said.
"Yes, sir?"
"Did you notice anything about Miss Thomas?"
"Like what, sir?"
Max looked pensive for a moment. "Oh, never mind," he finally said.
Niles paused. "You mean that she bore a striking resemblance to the late Mrs. Sheffield?"
"So you saw it too."
"Yes, sir." Niles left the office deep in thought. He wondered what effect this would have on his boss. The poor man was still not fully recovered from losing his wife, and he certainly was still in pain over the loss of Miss Fine. Well, at least he was trying to move ahead with his life. But using someone who reminded him of Sara to help rid himself of thoughts of Miss Fine could turn out to be very difficult for a man whose emotions were still so raw. Niles just shook his head and hoped that this little project would prove itself helpful in Mr. Sheffield’s road to healing.
********************
Max sat in the second row of the theater with his foot propped on the seat in front of him. Frustrated, he pulled off his glasses and leaned forward to say something to the casting director. Auditions were not going well. He glanced at his watch and saw that there was no way he was going to be able to take the afternoon off to meet with Laura Thomas. He wanted to see the sketches she had come up with, but these auditions were going to take all day. He yanked his cell phone out of his pocket and dialed home. "Niles, please call Miss Thomas and try to reschedule our appointment. I can’t get away this afternoon."
"Very well, sir," Niles replied.
Max had just finished scribbling some casting notes when his cell phone rang. Pulling it back out of his pocket, he pushed the button and barked into it, "Yes, what is it?"
"Mr. Sheffield, it’s Laura Thomas."
"Oh, Miss Thomas. I beg your pardon. It’s just that I’m really quite busy here and…"
"Yes, I understand that, but my week is very full, and I’m afraid it we don’t meet today it could really delay your remodel. You know, I was thinking. My office is only a few blocks from the theater. If you’re going to take a lunch break, we could meet at Sofia’s and discuss the sketches there."
Max thought for a minute. He was really anxious to get this redecorating project underway. Glancing at his watch, he said, "Yes, of course, that will be fine. I’ll meet you there in thirty minutes."
He sat in on several more auditions and then looked around for C.C. Motioning her over to him, he informed her as he gathered his notes, "I’m going to lunch. I have an important appointment. Call me on my cell phone if you need anything." With that, he turned and hurried up the aisle, not giving her a chance to respond. C.C. wondered what could be so important, but if she had to guess, she figured it had to have something to do with Nanny Fine. Even now, it was the one thing that still kept Maxwell Sheffield on edge.
Max entered the restaurant to see Laura waiting for him just inside. Immediately, her warm blue eyes greeted him and he was struck by her genuine smile. As soon as they were seated, she took out her sketches and held them up to show him.
"You know, Mr. Sheffield, the light green color you have in your kitchen now is quite charming, but I was thinking about going in the direction of something warmer and a little more bold. What would you think of a soft salmon with terra cotta accents?"
"That sounds very nice," he replied.
"And of course we’ll change out the counter tops and the breakfast set to something a little more contemporary," she added.
"Of course."
"Mr. Sheffield, you don’t have to agree with everything I suggest. You won’t hurt my feelings if you tell me you don’t like something," Laura offered.
Max smiled a bit sheepishly. "The thing is, Miss Thomas, I really don’t have time to think about what I like and don’t like. That’s why I told you I would leave it up to your professional judgment. You’ve come highly recommended and I can see that you are quite the professional, so I trust you’ll do the job to my satisfaction."
It was Laura’s turn to smile. "All right, Mr. Sheffield. I’ll use my best professional judgment based on what you’ve told me. So, if I don’t need to show you any of my ideas, why are we here?"
Just then the waiter approached their table. Max said, "Well, I suppose we could enjoy a nice lunch and some conversation. And why don’t you start by calling me Max."
"Ok, Max. And you must call me Laura."
They ordered their lunch and a nice bottle of wine. Laura told him that she had owned her decorating business for almost ten years and that, while it could sometimes be rather challenging and require long hours, she loved it and was very happy to have achieved a good measure of success. She said that her marriage had ended in divorce five years earlier, due mostly to her demanding work schedule, and that her one regret was never having children.
Max shared that he certainly understood how a demanding job could take a toll on one’s family. He told her a little about the play he was currently producing. And he told her all about Maggie, Brighton and Gracie.
"They sound like wonderful children. You must be very proud, and to think that you raised them all by yourself."
Max felt a sudden stab in his chest. Taking a deep breath, he said, "Well, actually, I didn’t do it all alone. Up until a couple of years ago, they had a wonderful nanny who was able to work wonders with them." He stared at his wine glass and became lost in thought for a moment.
Just then, their lunch arrived snapping Max out of his reverie, and their friendly banter continued while they ate. Finally, Max glanced at his watch. "Well, I really must be getting back. Thank you so much for accommodating my hectic schedule. The plans look great. When do you think your crew can get started?"
Laura assured him that it would be within the week, and they left the restaurant. As Max walked the few blocks back to the theater, he couldn’t help but think about how pleasant it had been to sit there and enjoy a nice lunch with such good company. And he still couldn’t get over how much Laura reminded him of Sara. The more he got to know her, the more he saw the resemblance, not only in her appearance, but also in her amiable manner and even her sense of humor. It had been a long time since he’d had such a pleasant experience, and he was somewhat surprised to admit that he wouldn’t really mind if it happened again.
*****************
Max came through the front door and was greeted by the sounds of banging and pounding coming from the direction of the kitchen. He looked up at Niles as he entered the foyer. "Good evening, sir. I guess you can tell the work crew arrived this afternoon," Niles practically shouted.
"Yes. How are things going in there?"
"Well, they’ve managed to create quite a mess. I don’t know how many days it’s going to be before I can prepare a meal in there again. I suppose I’ll be ordering dinner in for a while." Just then the doorbell rang and Niles answered it. Max turned around and was surprised to find Laura standing there.
"Miss T—Laura, do come in. With your busy schedule, I didn’t expect to see you here on demolition day," Max said as she came on in.
Laura explained, "There are certain strategic points in the project at which I like to touch base with my contractors on site, and the very first day is certainly one of them. If you’ll excuse me—" she said heading toward the kitchen.
Max glanced briefly through the mail and then went to his office. He settled behind his desk to look over the rehearsal schedule for the next few days. Soon, there was a knock at his office door and Niles came in. "Sir, I was wondering if you had any preference for dinner this evening. Shall I order a pizza, or maybe Chinese..?"
Max had to brush aside the thought of who the expert on ordering in had always been in that household. He looked back down at the paperwork in front of him and said, "It doesn’t really matter, Niles. Just a sandwich will be fine. I’ve really got a lot of work to do tonight."
"Excuse me, Max." Laura stepped on into his office. "I just wanted to let you know that everything is going just fine in there. I’m sure you’ll find that Sam Davis is very good to work with. He’s one of my top contractors, and you’ll be pleased with his work. As long as you can stand the mess for a few days, that is," she said with her pleasant smile.
"Yes, of course," said Max standing up and coming around his desk. He had a sudden thought. "You know, Laura, since my kitchen is out of commission, I suppose I’ll be eating out for a while. I was thinking about Nello’s tonight. Would you care to join me?" Where the hell had that come from? It seemed the question was out of his mouth before it had even crossed his mind.
Laura looked at him a bit surprised. She had always made it a point to keep her business life separate from her personal life, but this man was very handsome and extremely charming, and she found herself being very open to the idea of spending some time with him. "Well," she said. "There are some budget issues we need to discuss. I know you aren’t really concerned about color palettes, but I’m sure you have some requests as far as how much money I spend." Her charming laugh filled the air.
Max’s green eyes crinkled as he met her smile. "Yes, of course. I’ll get my jacket."
The budget issues were dispensed with in a matter of minutes, and Max and Laura spent the next two hours engaged in a very stimulating discussion of the forms of art and music they both enjoyed, and they were both pleased to realize that they had quite a bit in common. Max’s idea to invite Laura to dinner had certainly come as a surprise to both of them, but it was turning out to be one of the best ideas he’d had in a long time. It had been quite a while since he’d enjoyed someone’s company so much, and he found that his spirits had been quite bolstered by the evening.
As the limo arrived back at the Sheffield mansion, Max once again astonished himself by saying, "You know, Laura, there’s a benefit next Saturday for the Writer’s Guild at the Mason Gallery. I think you’d really like some of the new, young artists who will be showing their work there. I don’t suppose you’d care to attend with me?"
Laura didn’t even have to think about it. She had found herself completely charmed by Maxwell Sheffield throughout the entire evening, and if he hadn’t asked to see her again, she had already made up her mind that she would find a way to ask him. "I’d love to," she said. Max helped her out of the limo and walked her to her car. "I’ll check in with Sam in a couple of days. In the meantime, call me if there’s anything about the kitchen I need to take care of."
Max stood there watching as her car pulled away. He smiled to himself as he realized that he was already looking forward to next Saturday. Well, he thought to himself, this was certainly an unexpected turn of events, but one he considered most fortunate. Laura was lovely and charming and very engaging. They had many common interests, and he couldn’t wait to find out more about her. Max took a deep breath as he turned to go into the house. At last, it seemed something good was happening for Maxwell Sheffield.
****************
Max skipped down the foyer stairs rubbing his hands together in an attempt to calm his nervousness. "Gracie!" he called out. "Hurry up, sweetheart. Our guests will be here any minute."
"What guests?" Gracie said, coming down the stairs after him. "It’s just Maggie and Michael and Brighton."
"I know," said Max, stopping at the foot of the stairs and turning to her. "And Laura. It is a bit of a special occasion, you know. We’re christening the new kitchen, and it’s the first time we’ve all been together in quite a while."
Gracie just shook her head as the front door opened and Maggie and Michael came in. "Brighton’s right behind us," Maggie announced.
"Good," said Max. "I wanted to speak with all of you before Laura gets here." Maggie and Gracie exchanged glances as they all walked into the living room.
Brighton opened the front door with a, "Hey, everybody," and hung his jacket in the closet. "What’s this? Some kind of a family meeting?" He came in and joined his sisters on the couch.
Max looked around at his family and said, "I appreciate all of you making a point to be here. The new kitchen is all finished, and when you see it, I think you’ll agree that it looks very nice and is quite a welcome change from the old one. Laura did a wonderful job, and that’s why I invited her this evening to help us celebrate." He looked at the expectant faces of his brood. "Ok, actually, there’s a little more to it than that. You see, Laura and I have been seeing each other socially, and I wanted you all to meet her. She’s very lovely and quite charming, and I’m sure you’ll all like her very much."
Maggie and Brighton turned to Gracie with their eyes open wide in surprise. "Did you know about this? Why didn’t you tell us?" they both blurted.
Gracie just shrugged her shoulders. "I thought they were business meetings," she offered innocently.
Just then, the doorbell rang and Niles went to let Laura in. Max ran over to the front door to greet her as Niles took her coat. Taking her by the hand, Max led her into the living room. "Children, this is Laura Thomas," he announced. Laura’s warm smile won them all over instantly. "Laura, this is Maggie and her husband Michael," Max said, gesturing toward them. "And this is my son Brighton, the Harvard man, and of course you know Grace."
"Hello," they all said in unison.
"It’s very nice to meet you all. I hope you like what we’ve done in the kitchen," Laura said.
There was just a brief lull before Max piped up, "Well, shall we all take the grand tour?" They headed into the kitchen and were immediately impressed with its new look. Laura demonstrated some of the special new features she’d added to the design.
"It’s really nice, dad," Maggie said. "It’s just kinda weird to walk in here and have it look so different from the way I’m used to. But I guess things change, and we have to learn to change along with them." She tossed a brief glance at Laura as she made her remark.
Just then, Niles announced that dinner was served, and they all headed into the dining room. The three Sheffield children were shocked as they watched their father pull out the chair to the right of his for Laura. For so many years, that seat had belonged to someone else, and seeing a new person occupy it was going to take some getting used to.
Dinner went very well as Max had hoped it would. Laura was her usual, genuine self, and he could see that the children were quite charmed by her. She told them a little about her business and asked them all about their interests. She told Brighton that her brother had attended Harvard, so there was an easy connection there. By the end of the meal, it was clear that they would all get along very well.
After another hour of visiting, Laura declared that she had an early morning the next day, and really needed to be going. Max walked her out to her car. "Your children are delightful, Max."
"Thank you. And I believe they were quite charmed by you as well."
"I’m so glad," she said, smiling at him warmly.
He leaned in for a sweet goodnight kiss, but suddenly found himself wanting more. He wrapped his arms around her and drew her to him. She responded by putting her arms around his neck and returning his kiss.
Max felt as if a gate had opened inside him. He hadn’t even realized how much he’d been holding back. But this felt so good to be holding someone in his arms again and experiencing the stirring of those emotions long held at bay. Laura was so lovely and sweet, and just the answer to what he’d been needing in his life. He gave her a little peck and said, "I’ll call you tomorrow," and then opened her car door for her. He watched her drive away and then turned to go back in. He was anxious to hear what his children had to say about her.
When he walked back into the living room, they were all still sitting around. "Well?" he asked looking at each face in turn. "What did you all think of Laura?"
"She’s great, dad," Brighton stated.
"Yes, she’s really nice," Maggie said. "And I really love what she did in the kitchen, although it will take a little getting used to. But, really dad, we all liked her a lot." Michael nodded in agreement.
Max breathed a sigh of relief. "Good, because I think it’s safe to say that she’s going to be around here quite a bit from now on."
Gracie excused herself saying that she had some homework to take care of, and Brighton and Michael got involved in a discussion about how the Rangers were doing. Max decided to take another look at the kitchen and Maggie followed him in there.
He turned to look at her as she came in. "So, you like Laura, do you?"
"Yeah, dad, she’s very nice. In fact," Maggie hesitated. She knew how her dad hated to talk about his feelings, but there was something that really concerned her, and she just had to bring it up. "She’s so nice I’d hate for her to get hurt."
"What are you talking about?" Max asked, puzzled by Maggie’s statement.
Maggie hesitated for just a moment. Then, she ventured, "Dad, are you sure you’re ready for this relationship? I mean, I hate prying into your personal business, but I don’t really think you’ve gotten over Fran yet, and…"
"Margaret," he interrupted. "It’s been two years, and I think it’s time I moved on with my life. In any case, Miss Fine, I mean Fran, has certainly moved on with hers. Well, you’ve seen her more recently than I have. Wouldn’t you agree that she has?"
"Well, yes, but.."
"After all, she’s married, for God’s sake. And within only eight months after leaving me—I mean, leaving us. Don’t you think I deserve a chance for happiness as well?" Max’s tone was more animated than he intended.
"Sure you do, dad, but, well, there’s something I noticed, and it has me just a little concerned. Surely you can see how much Laura looks and acts like mom." She took a deep breath trying to work up the nerve to continue. "Are you sure you’re not attracted to her because of that?"
Max just looked at his eldest. "All right, I admit that I’ve noticed a resemblance. But it has nothing to do with my feelings for her," he asserted.
Maggie realized that she’d gotten more out of her dad than she should have expected. "All right," she said. "I just wanted to make sure that you’re not trying to erase Fran from your life by going back to mom’s clone. I mean, you’ve erased all the reminders of her around here by redecorating her bedroom and now the kitchen. Laura’s a very nice person. She deserves to be loved for who she is."
Max stood there wondering how his daughter had become so intuitive and insightful. But deep down he knew how she’d become that way, and he had to admit she’d had a very good teacher. "I assure you, Margaret, that I care for Laura because she’s warm and giving and because we share many interests. It has nothing to do with—anyone else."
Maggie hesitated for just a minute before walking over and giving her dad a kiss on the cheek. "I’m very happy for you, dad. Michael and I have to go now. I’ll call you later this week."
Max watched her walk out and then looked around at his new kitchen. He really liked the change. It had a whole new feel to it. In fact, his entire life had a whole new feel to it, and he had Laura to thank for that as well. What Maggie had suggested was simply ridiculous, he told himself. Miss Fine was a part of his past, and he was determined to leave her there. He was ready now to concentrate on his future, and thankfully he’d found someone to help him do just that.
****************
Maxwell stood listening to the minister’s words: "For richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health." He looked over at his beautiful bride and smiled. After all he’d been through, he never thought he would find true happiness again, but here he was on his wedding day, and it was all as wonderful as he had hoped.
His thoughts drifted briefly back to his beloved Sara. When he had stood on that spot with her so many years before, they had both thought it would be forever, but then fate had a way of stepping in and changing all their dreams. He said, "I do," and then looked deeply into Laura’s lovely blue eyes as she repeated her vows to him.
Finally, he was told he could kiss his bride, but just before their lips met, a vision flashed before him and it shook him to the core. A vision of sparkling, dark brown eyes and a gorgeous smile that lit up his heart. He kissed the new Mrs. Maxwell Sheffield, and the vision was dispelled. He chastised himself for allowing thoughts of the woman who’d walked out on him two years ago to creep in and spoil such a beautiful day.
The pain of losing Sara coupled with the devastation he’d felt the day Fran left was more heartache than any one man should have to experience. But now Laura was in his life, and her kind ways and loving nature had helped him see that he could be happy again.
They turned and looked into the faces of all their family and friends. Even C.C. was truly happy for them. She and Laura had hit if off right away, and Max’s business partner of many years had given them her blessing wholeheartedly.
The reception was a whirlwind of dances and toasts and meeting all the members of his new family. Laura had lost her father a few years earlier, but her mother was as charming as she was, and Max had formed an immediate bond with his new mother-in-law. The afternoon was such a joyous celebration that, except for that brief moment during the ceremony, Max was able to keep all thoughts of anyone else pushed aside.
They made their way to the waiting limo among all their family members and well-wishers. Their flight to St. Bart’s was scheduled for the following morning, but they had reserved the honeymoon suite at The Plaza for the night. As the limo made its way through the Manhattan streets, Max allowed a small concern to creep its way into his thinking. It had been quite some time since he’d been with a woman, and while he was pretty sure he still remembered how it was done, he did want to make sure that it was a special night for both of them.
They arrived at the hotel and were shown to their room. Max poured them some champagne while he waited for Laura to change. He was getting a bit more nervous and had to remind himself not to keep pacing about. But when she stepped into the room in her beautiful white negligee, all Max’s apprehensions disappeared. She was an absolute vision in white, her blue eyes gleaming and her soft blond curls framing her lovely face.
Max walked over to where she stood and drew her into his arms. He kissed her, slowly and sweetly at first, and she responded with her loving touch. She pulled slightly away from him and started working on his shirt buttons. His green eyes looked deeply into hers, and he felt so sure that he’d finally found true happiness, something he thought he was never destined to have again.
As Laura slid his shirt off his shoulders, Max realized how silly he’d been. The feelings she was stirring in him felt so right and natural, and he knew that nothing could keep them from fully expressing their love for each other. He began a trail of light kisses down her neck and slid the strap of her negligee off her shoulder. A light tug on the ribbon between her breasts was all it took to make her gown slide slowly down her body until it puddled on the floor around her feet. Max took a small step backwards to take in the view of her trim figure, and he was not disappointed.
She took him by the shoulders and pulled him back to her. She then began working on the waistband of his pants as he continued giving her light little kisses. Not able to prolong things anymore, Max bent down and swept her up, carrying her to the bed and placing her gently on it. He quickly removed the rest of his clothes and eased himself down on top of her.
Max looked at her intently as he said, "I love you, Mrs. Sheffield."
She smiled up into his loving face and in a voice full of sincerity said, "I love you so much, Maxwell." With that she began running her hands up and down his back as she took pleasure in how perfectly their bodies fit together. Max closed his eyes against the warm feelings welling up in him. Suddenly, the tempo of his breathing increased at the anticipation, and he opened his eyes to look into hers and make that important connection. But what he saw made him catch his breath. Her eyes weren’t blue, but a chocolate brown and her blond curls had become a raven mane fanned out across the pillow.
Quickly, he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to dispel the vision. Then, he heard Laura’s voice. "Maxwell?"
He pushed himself into her, and she let out a small gasp. He began a steady rhythm while keeping his eyes on her face, afraid to look away for what his mind might conjure.
When Max heard her breathing quicken and saw her eyes close, he felt a great sense of relief as he let himself go. Holding her close as their breathing slowed, he cherished the loving smile that she showed him in the aftermath of their lovemaking.
Max rolled to her side, and she turned to face him. Giving her a small kiss, he reached up to brush a stray wisp of hair from her forehead. He smiled at her gently, relieved that he’d be able to please her and happy that his life was finally on a new path.
*****************
Fran picked up the remote and flipped through the channels as she stifled a yawn. Looking at the clock, she saw that it was getting close to midnight. She really needed to be in bed. She had to get up early to open the shop in the morning, but she knew even if she were in bed, she wouldn’t be able to sleep. She hated it when Jeff worked so late. After so many years of living in a house where it seemed there was always some activity, being home alone late at night was something she just couldn’t get used to.
But Fran understood that Jeff’s job as a detective meant that he couldn’t always choose his work hours. And if he was on an important case, it might even mean that he wouldn’t be home at all some nights. The worst part, though, was the worrying. There were few jobs more dangerous than that of a New York City cop. She and Jeff had had long talks about her trying not to worry and about him trying to be careful.
Just then she heard the front door open, and she said out loud, "Thank God," before hopping up from the couch and running to greet him.
"What are you still doing up?" he asked as she threw her arms around his neck and laid a major kiss on him. Jeff wrapped his arms around her and let himself get carried away by the things his gorgeous, sexy wife was doing to his mouth. Finally, she broke their kiss and laid her head on his shoulder, holding him close to feel his heart beating against her chest. He reached his hand up to stroke her hair as he said, "Honey, I wish you wouldn’t wait up so late for me, but, damn, I’m glad when you do." She looked up and gave him that beautiful smile, and his heart just melted. He took her by the hand and led her back over to the couch. "Sweetheart, we need to talk," he told her.
They sat down facing each other and Jeff took both her hands in his. She looked at him expectantly and he lifted her hand to his lips and kissed the back of it. He spoke gently as he told her, "I’m worried about you. You get up early every morning and go to that shop and put in a full day. Then on the nights I work late, you stay up worrying about me. Can’t you call Val and see if she can go do something with you?"
"Val and I went to the movies just the other night," she contended.
"Then what about some kind of project around the house? You do work in a home décor shop, after all."
Fran took a glance around the room. "Honey, look around you. Can you see one square inch of this place that I haven’t already decorated?"
Then a slow smile crept across Jeff’s handsome face. "I know one little project that would help fill your time. What if you had a baby to take care of?"
Fran reached up and touched his cheek tenderly. "Now, sweetie, we’ve talked about that. I don’t know if I’m ready for motherhood yet. I’m just now finding myself with my career and being your wife and all."
"But, Fran, we’ve been married two years…" He saw the look on her face and stopped himself. "Ok, ok, I promised I wouldn’t push. That’s not what I wanted to talk about anyway. I’ve been thinking a lot lately about how much you hate all these long hours I work and you being here late at night by yourself. So I got to thinking that if I got a job on a smaller police force, the hours would be better and the work not quite so dangerous. I put out a couple of feelers, and I got an offer that I’m thinking seriously about. But I told them I would have to talk to you first. It would mean moving because cops have to live within the jurisdiction."
"How far away is it? Can I still keep working at the shop?" she asked anxiously.
"I don’t think so. It would be too much of a drive every day," he told her.
"Oh, honey, you know how much I love working at that shop. I don’t know if I could give that up. Where is the job?"
Jeff paused for dramatic effect. Then, with a little gleam in his eye, he said, "Great Neck."
Fran’s eyes shot open. She couldn’t believe her ears. Since she was a little girl, she had dreamed of living in Great Neck and now her wonderful, sweet husband was making that dream come true. She threw her arms around his neck and squeezed it.
Jeff felt a warmth rise up inside him. Nothing thrilled him more than seeing her like this. He had vowed long ago to do everything in his power to make her happy, and judging by her reaction, he had done just that.
She looked at him, her eyes shining with excitement. "I’m sure they have home décor shops in Great Neck. Surely I can get a job in one of them."
"Well, honey, I’ve been thinking about that too. Why don’t you open your own? I mean, you practically run that one now. I’m sure you could make a success of it. Why don’t we spend the day Saturday driving around the town, checking out the neighborhoods and looking for a three-bedroom split level for sale. And while we’re there, we’ll find a commercial real estate agent to start looking for a place where you can open a business."
"But, sweetie, it takes a lot of money to open a business. And there’s so much to learn."
Jeff said, "We can get a business loan. And as far as learning everything, I’m sure you’ll do fine. Look how far you’ve come since you had that first business of yours."
Fran looked at him quizzically. "What business?"
"You know, the, um, ‘party’ you threw and charged admission?"
Fran drew up her shoulders and grinned sheepishly. "Oh, yeah." Then she reached up and caressed the underside of his chin with her forefinger. "But, hey, that turned out good, didn’t it?"
He kissed her and looked deeply into her eyes. "It turned out better than my wildest dreams. I thank God every day that I drew that assignment."
Her voice dropped to that seductive tone. "You know, that was the first night we ever spent together."
A slow smile crept across his face. "If I’d had any idea then how many wonderful nights together that would lead to…"
She took him by the hand and stood up from the couch. Leading him toward the bedroom, she asked in a coy little tone, "Hey, mister, ya still got those hand cuffs, don’t ya?"
*****************
Fran took a sip of her morning coffee as she drove through the streets of Great Neck. She glanced at her watch and saw that it was just past seven. Her shop didn’t open until ten o’clock, but she had a lot of work to do before customers started showing up.
Jeff had been so right about things. She absolutely loved living in Great Neck. They had a beautiful three-bedroom house in a wonderful neighborhood. And his work hours were much better now. Fran didn’t have to worry about him nearly so much. Although he had been assigned to a couple of risky cases in the two years since he’d taken the job, crime in Great Neck was nothing compared to what he’d dealt with in Manhattan.
And her home décor shop was flourishing. She had found that everything she had learned working in Mark Feldman’s store had served her well, and now that she was the owner, she could add her own style and flair to create a very successful company. In fact, it had just been the last few months that she had decided to add a new line of merchandise. She had found that French antiques had become quite popular in the home décor market, and part of being a successful business owner meant being attuned to current trends. So, she had done her homework and learned everything she could about them. She had ordered her first few pieces through a New York importer, and although she hadn’t been completely happy with their quality, they had sold immediately. It just seemed a good business move to expand the line by making a trip to Paris and dealing directly with the antique dealers herself.
She thought back to the day she had broached the subject with Jeff. Of course, he thought it was a great idea and, as always, gave her his total support and encouragement. He was, though, concerned about her traveling so far and to such a big city all by herself. "I’ve been to Paris before," she had told him.
"I know, but you weren’t traveling alone that time," he had argued. She recalled the look of jealousy in his eyes.
"Well, I do know someone who lives there. I’m sure he’d be glad to play host for me," she had suggested.
"Oh, yeah. The brother. Much better," he had offered, unable to hide the sulkiness in his voice. Early in their relationship, she had confessed to him her near elopement with Nigel Sheffield, knowing that it was best for their marriage not to have any secrets between them.
"Sweetie," she had said, stroking his cheek tenderly. "You have nothing to worry about. You know that I’ve put all of that far behind me, and you are the only one who matters to me now." And then she had started sliding his jacket off his shoulders and had proceeded to show him just how much he mattered to her and just how completely she had moved beyond her life with the Sheffields.
She pulled into her parking space behind the shop making a mental list of everything she needed to get done before her flight to Paris at the end of the week. Paris. It was impossible to plan her trip without thinking of the last time she had been there, or, more specifically, who she had been there with. She had sworn to Jeff that all that was behind her now, but the truth was that there were still times when she found herself thinking of Max and wondering what her life would have been like if they had only been able to work things out. And it seemed just about anything could trigger a memory—driving by the Russian Tea Room or catching the aroma of Aramis from someone passing by. And the day "Georgie Girl" had come on the car radio, she had to grip the steering wheel to keep from running off the road.
It made her apprehensive about going to Paris that week and finding herself in some of the same places she’d visited with Max. And especially since Nigel would be serving as her "Welcome to Paris" ambassador while she was there. But all that was a lifetime ago, and she was a businesswoman now and this trip was strictly business. She would enjoy visiting with Nigel again and she would focus her attention on making the purchases necessary to keep her store thriving, she told herself. Maxwell Sheffield had done enough damage in her life, and she sure as hell wouldn’t allow him to screw this up for her too.
Fran would have been surprised to know that at the same instant she was making that resolution, Max’s thoughts were centering on her also. Except instead of trying to forget her, he found himself rather wishing he could talk to her. He was concerned about the new boy Gracie was seeing, and he needed some advice as to how to handle it. It seemed the young man was around all the time, and Max feared he was just a little too serious. Grace was only sixteen—far too young to have a serious boyfriend. Of course, Max had shared his concern with Laura, but never having had children, she really wasn’t much help. Her only suggestion had been to wait and see what happened, and Max just felt that wasn’t the thing to do in this case. But he knew that Miss Fine—Fran—would know exactly what to do. Her natural intuitiveness in such matters could always be counted on.
And that was only one of the things about her he missed. Her smile, her laugh, but mostly the joie de vivre she had brought to his life. Laura was sweet and very loving, and their life together made him happy. But it had only managed to fill part of the gaping hole that had been left the day Fran said good-bye. And the more time that passed, the less likely it became that he would find any way to completely fill that emptiness. He sat at his desk with his chin resting on his hand and sighed deeply. Just then, Niles walked by the office door. Looking in at his boss, he knew exactly what he was thinking. As he continued down the hall, he spoke aloud, "I know what you mean. I miss her too."
******************
Fran reached for her briefcase, which was sitting next to her on the taxi seat. She wanted to go over her notes one last time before her meeting with David Brown. She knew that opening a branch of her boutique was a big step. Her shop in Great Neck had done well its first three years, but Manhattan was a whole other world. If she was going to make it there, she had to be ready to take the risk, and she wanted to cover as many bases as possible. An important step was hiring a good business attorney who was familiar with the Manhattan market, and David Brown had come highly recommended.
Today’s appointment would be their first meeting. She looked at her watch and saw that she was going to be at least twenty minutes early. "Good," she thought. "No need to get started on the wrong foot." She glanced over her business plan and her list of questions and ideas. Everything looked in order, and she slid the papers back into her briefcase just as the taxi glided to a stop in front of the Flatiron Building.
She paid the driver quickly and hurried through the front door. Walking briskly across the lobby toward the bank of elevators, she saw that only one of them was going up, and the doors were about to close. "Hold the elevator, please!" she called out, breaking into a trot. Someone’s hand reached out, and the doors reversed their direction allowing Fran to slide into the car and join the four people inside. "Eleventh floor, please," she said checking herself over hoping everything was still in place. She glanced over to make
sure someone had pushed the correct button for her floor. When she saw the hand that had reached out, she suddenly froze. Her eyes traveled up the man’s arm and when they landed on his face, her heart skipped a few beats. There, staring at the floor in front of him, was Maxwell Sheffield.
To be continued…
The original concept for "It Was Always You" was created by Toni, who co-developed it with Jan. The story is loosely based on the Bonnie Raitt song, "You," available on her 1994 CD "Longing in Their Hearts" and on her 2003 "Best of Bonnie Raitt" CD. No infringement of rights is intended or implied.
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