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Aimee
(aimeed@earthlink.net)
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A Dangerous Liaison, or Shakespearean Love? Better Butler Catches Up With the Infamous Niles on the Eve of his Wedding Better Butler, June 1999 -- To watch him work, one would never suppose that Niles, butler to famed Broadway and television producer Maxwell Sheffield, was operating under a cloud of doubt in the eyes of his fellow butlers as to his appropriateness for the position. In a quiet yet authoritative voice, he dispatched a maid to the office with tea for Mr. Sheffield and his business partner; gave wise counsel to Mrs. Sheffield, who suffered from a minor case of postpartum depression; and arranged a highly suitable collation of teacakes to honor the occasion of this interview. Always a controversial figure due to his sometimes over-familiar behavior with his employer and unfortunate penchant for becoming involved in inadvisable schemes, Niles shocked the Butler world last May by announcing his elopement with socialite and Broadway producer CC Babcock, and her subsequent impending motherhood. Rumors abounded for years about an inappropriately adversarial relationship between the two, in which Niles was whispered to have grievously insulted the beautiful and aristocratic debutante, and she was rumored to have so lowered herself as to engage in verbal hostilities with the ruggedly handsome domestic. Due to this apparent incompatibility between servant and mistress, rumors of an illicit liaison this spring were dismissed by all domestic pundits as utter rot until May, when it was confirmed that a hasty elopement had been arranged between Niles and Miss Babcock. This was followed with surprising speed by the joyful announcement of Ms. Babcock-Niles' pregnancy. Working with brisk and understated efficiency, it was not long before Niles had freed himself from his duties long enough to sit down for tea with Better Butler. He served flawlessly brewed tea and delicious teacakes, which we recognized as having come from Fortnum & Mason's in London. He showed no embarrassment when asked about his recent marriage. Indeed, he expounded upon the subject readily, assuring us that a representative of the magazine would be welcome among the press at his forthcoming formal wedding, at press time a week away. "Ms. Babcock-Niles has planned an exquisite and very tasteful ceremony followed by a reception that is entirely suitable to her station in life," he reported. A revelation regarding Ms. Babcock-Niles's gown further impressed Better Butler with its respect for the conventions. "I'm sworn to secrecy about the design," Niles informed us, eyes crinkling in amusement, "But due to her pregnancy and the fact that we were really married two months ago, she felt it would be more suitable to wear champagne beige rather than white." The inveterate gossip, sometimes referred to as a "big fat yenta" by his employer, Mrs. Sheffield, managed to maintain a discreet silence when asked whether improprieties occurred previous to the May elopement. This question arose due to the fact that while the marriage occurred just under two months ago, Ms. Babcock-Niles is three months along in her pregnancy. When asked how his unusual marriage came about, Niles told a story that put us in mind of something the Bard of Avon might have written. While still Miss Babcock, the lady desired to wed with widower Maxwell Sheffield, an entirely suitable match which would have resulted in uniform public approval. Nevertheless, the arrival of Nanny Fran Fine of Queens derailed these plans. A tortured love sprang up between Mr. Sheffield and Nanny Fine. Niles, who supported the Fine-Sheffield liaison entirely, kept Miss Babcock from interfering by undermining her attempts to win Mr. Sheffield for herself, while Miss Babcock fought an inner battle to come to terms with the loss of Mr. Sheffield as well as her suppressed feelings for Niles. Eventually Miss Fine and Mr. Sheffield threw propriety to the wind, marrying in a lavish ceremony held at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York. While assisting the new Mrs. Sheffield during her pregnancy, Niles became aware of his own illicit passion for the reputedly mercurial Miss Babcock. He attempted to deny it, but in time, he learned that she too found herself unable to resist, despite strong misgivings about the suitability of the match. She at last accepted his repeated proposals after he rescued her from a stalled elevator where she was trapped with Mrs. Sheffield, who was in labor at the time. Miss Babcock's affections were so strong that she desired a hasty elopement just as the newest Sheffields made their entrance into the world. "She was simply ill at the thought of waiting," Niles commented. Just as Niles finished his tale, we were graced by the entrance of Ms. Babcock-Niles herself, in a stunning white Yves St. Laurent ensemble. Despite the disparities in their station, it cannot be denied that the pair made a stunning couple. Her Grace Kelley elegance is beautifully complemented by his ruggedly handsome visage. Did Ms. Babcock-Niles have any doubts as to the propriety of marrying her business partner's butler? "Oh, yes!" she assured us. "I gave it careful consideration. In fact, I found it very difficult to take the leap of faith, but I haven't regretted a moment of it. Of course, if our daughter turns out looking like him, it may be another story." She graciously accepted our congratulations upon her impending second nuptials and first child. "I've waited so long," she said, sharing a tender look with Niles. "I'd long since given up on this kind of happiness." When Better Butler assured her that she was far too young and beautiful to have given up hope, the comment was hailed by derisive snorting from her husband and an immediate and highly lucrative job offer from the lady herself. Ms. Babcock-Niles was then called away to tend to a matter of business, and Niles fielded one last question from Better Butler. Would he recommend his controversial course of action to other butlers who may find themselves in similar positions in re someone of higher station? Niles considered carefully before responding. "I love CC very deeply, God help me. She's the only woman I've ever felt this way about. I never want to lose her. I believe that she feels the same about me, because if she didn't, she'd never have broken the rules like that to marry me. If you believe that you've found someone who can make you this happy, then never, ever let that go." Better Butler magazine would like to congratulate the couple and wish them well, and also take the liberty of congratulating both Mrs. Sheffield and Ms. Babcock-Niles upon entering the state of motherhood. |
California, June 1999
CC hung over Fran's shoulders. "Is that an RSVP? Give it here!" CC ripped open the heavy cream-colored envelope. "Oh, thank God."
"What? Your entire family is spending the weekend at Betty Ford?"
"Are you kidding?" she snorted. "The entire liquor industry would collapse. No, it's from my father."
Fran squealed. "Stewie's coming? Yay! When's he getting here? Soon? Is he staying long?"
"No! That's why I said, 'Thank God.' He's getting here just in time for the bachelor party Friday night and leaving right after the wedding. He sends his regards, by the way."
Fran sighed dreamily. "Remember when he came to visit and you went to see Barbra? And she said, 'Hi, Gorgeous,' into the telephone at me?"
"And I manipulated you out of that gorgeous Bob Mackie gown?" CC flashed her a wicked grin.
"Hey, I got it back from you."
"I don't care, I'm just relieved that I got you out of that dress before my father could. God, I still get chills thinking about how close you came to being my stepmother."
Fran put her hands on her hips and glared. "It wasn't like that and you know it. Your dad was like a father to me."
CC snorted derisively. "Oh, please, I've seen him with enough of his little pieces to know when he's thinking of adding a new objet d'art to his collection."
Fran gasped. "You know, you act all soft and sweet sometimes, but you really haven't changed a bit. You're just as evil and wicked as ever."
"But with one big difference, Fran."
"What, that you've actually got a sex life?"
Patting her still-flat stomach, CC replied triumphantly, "No, the big difference is, in a few months there's going to be two of me."
"Oy! I'll start building a bomb shelter in the garden."
"So, is there anything else in the mail for me?" CC asked, sorting through the many late RSVP's for her wedding.
"Hold on a sec. Okay, Maxwell, you. Maxwell, you. Maxwell, Maxwell, Maxwell, you, you. Okay, here are your credit card bills."
"And where are all your credit card bills?" CC asked suspiciously. Since marrying Fran, Maxwell had become the only man on the planet to have a monthly curse.
"What do you think all these envelopes for Maxwell are?" Fran shrugged. "Oh, here's another RSVP. And here's something for Niles. Could you give it to him next time you see him?"
"What is it?"
"Oooh, it's the new issue of 'Better Butler.' He said to look out for this one."
"Yeah they were here a couple of weeks ago to interview us. Something about how all butlerdom is freaking out at him for marrying me."
"Aw, that's just ridiculous. He had to take enough of that from you before you'd marry him. He doesn't need it from them."
CC raised her eyebrows and looked down her nose at Fran. "It's good for him. He has enough of an ego as it is. He told me he's thinking of titling his autobiography 'The Studmuffin Butler.'"
A squall of rage came from the baby monitor hooked to Fran's belt. "Oh! Baby alert! Got to go!" Seeing CC's grin, Fran snapped, "You just wait, Mrs. Studmuffin! In about seven months, you will understand my suffering!"
CC laughed and wandered into the office. "Maxwell, I think your wife is about to go nuts."
A snide voice from the corner remarked, "Oh, damn it, sweetheart, when will you remember that you're my wife, not his?" Niles left off dusting the bookcase to put his arms around his beautiful wife and kiss her.
"Everyone in this house is bloody nuts," Maxwell commented from the desk. His thick black hair was disarranged, a sure sign of utter frustration. "CC, kindly get your hands off my butler and come over here, please?"
"Somebody's a grumpy-wumpy today," Niles muttered.
"I know, and after all you've done for him, he begrudges you a little affection from your wife." CC wrapped her arms around Niles' waist.
Maxwell glared. "Niles, don't you have something to dust?"
"Oh, yes, sir," he replied, never taking his eyes from CC. "What do you say, sweetie, want to meet me upstairs and do a little dusting?"
"Mmm, I just love the way you use that feather duster!" she replied.
"Niles! CC! Please!" Maxwell snapped. "CC, I need your signature on this requisition. Niles, I need you to be elsewhere." Niles and CC reluctantly broke apart and CC crossed the thick red carpet to stand at Maxwell's side and scan the form he handed her.
"By the way, CC, did my new issue of 'Better Butler' arrive today?" Niles asked, one hand on the doorknob.
CC reached into the stack of mail, then thought better of it. She wanted to see this article herself, and he'd hedged a little bit about even letting her participate in the interview. She made a token gesture of riffling through the stack. "Nope, nothing for you. A few late RSVPs, but we can go over those later."
"Alright. See you later."
"Hate you."
"Hate you more." Niles shut the door behind him on his way out.
"I had to marry the Yenta Queen," muttered Max.
"No, that's my husband," CC tossed off, sorry Niles wasn't there to hear her say it. "Why, what has Fran done this time?"
"Bloody got you two together. Not that the Animal Kingdom marathon issuing from your bedroom every night isn't thrilling, but if not for Fran's interference, you two would still be wandering around lonely and miserable and taking it out on each other, and I'd still be able to get some work out of the two of you."
"Oh, don't be a spoilsport. I do just as much work as I ever did. By the way, I'm taking the afternoon off. Fran and I are going shopping. I need a few things for the wedding night."
"Like what?" Maxwell demanded, outraged. CC gave him a look. "Never mind. Just see that all the furniture orders for the sets are filled out and faxed before you leave."
CC, who had stayed in the office long past dinner while Max was upstairs with his wife many a time, made a nasty gesture behind his back when he turned around to look for a file. "Maxwell, I filled out all those forms yesterday."
"Oh, good. Excellent work. In that case, I'd like the costumes ordered before you leave."
"Maxwell," she said in her sweetest, most persuasive tones, "You know where Fran and I are going shopping, don't you?"
"I don't know, I don't care, and you're not going to convince me to let you go now and do the costumes later, so don't even try."
"But Maxwell, costumes are exactly what I had in mind. I know there's a perky little number Fran has her eye on that you'd just love. It's black lace and very little, and, well, if I don't have time to go shopping, then Fran won't be going without me! She can't handle both babies all by herself."
Maxwell took off his eyeglasses and rubbed his nose. "This black lace thingy. How little is it?"
"Very little," she assured him.
Max lifted one eyebrow thoughtfully. Then he smiled. "Well, CC, you'd better start signing and faxing, because if my wife doesn't have a new little black lace thingy by tonight, I will hold you entirely responsible."
"Max, when you made me a partner, you were just toying with my head, weren't you?"
Maxwell only smiled.
CC held up a long, red lace nightgown in front of herself and turned to Fran. "I figure, either way I win. Either I'm in for the night of my life when he sees this, or he'll have another heart attack, die, and I can collect on his life insurance."
"I love your ability to see the glass half full," Fran said dryly. They'd been bonding to a certain degree ever since CC had, in her own neurotic way, helped Fran through the first couple of hours of labor when they were stuck in an elevator together and Fran had persuaded her to marry Niles. They still weren't best friends, and they still disagreed frequently and loudly, but it was just amazing how much closer they'd gotten now that CC had a man of her own and wasn't after Fran's. Fran was surprised by how relieved she felt. She wondered how much of their old conflict had been CC's fault, and how much of it had been hers as well.
CC wrinkled her nose as she inspected the seams on a peach silk negligee. "I'm going to wear this stuff every chance I get while I can still fit into it. In another month, I'll be splitting my seams."
With the wisdom of one who'd been there already, Fran responded, "That's okay. Niles is gonna split the seams on his pants when he sees that gown."
CC smiled to herself. "And wouldn't that be a tragedy? Now come on, we've got to find you something tiny, black, and lacy."
"Why?"
"How the hell do you think I got Maxwell to let me go shopping in the middle of a work day? I told him you were buying a little present, for you to him." CC began rifling through a clearance rack, knowing that she didn't have a snowball's chance in hell of getting Fran to pay retail.
"Black, tiny, and lacy, huh? I can do that." Fran winked. "Maybe it'll help me out of this slump I've been in since the birth. I'm just so bored and depressed all the time that I'm afraid I'm neglecting him."
CC rolled her eyes. "What, he's only getting it once a day now?"
Fran slapped her arm playfully and moved off in the direction of something tiny, black, lacy, and 70% off.
CC slipped upstairs and slid the flat white box containing her gown for the wedding night right into the suitcase she planned on taking with her to the hotel. She double-checked the tiny gold padlocks on the luggage to make sure her husband couldn't snoop around and get himself a preview. Then, she sat down on the sofa in their private sitting room to flip through the copy of Better Butler she'd purloined.
Maxwell had very generously given Niles half ownership of their magnificent antebellum-style mansion in Beverly Hills as part of his benefit package. Max knew (because Fran had told him) that it wounded Niles' pride not to have a home that was truly his to take his bride to, so Niles and CC had taken up residence on the third floor, while Max, Fran, Gracie, and the twins inhabited the second floor. When Niles and CC's baby was born, she would join the twins in the second-floor nursery until she was old enough for a room of her own. Niles and CC had willingly agreed because Niles refused to quit work, and since no one knew yet just how long they would be in California, CC had not pressed for a home of her own.
CC felt almost embarrassed at how happy the arrangements made her. Sure, sometimes she felt the need to retreat to her private sitting room and lock the door against everyone. Hey, you couldn't get over nearly -- well, several years of living alone just like that. But sometimes it was really nice to get up for something in the middle of the night and find that Niles was awake too, or that Fran already had her head in the freezer looking for the last tub of Rocky Road. And it was really, really nice, on the nights when she worked until nine or ten, to simply drag herself up to the third floor rather than home to an empty apartment.
CC had decorated her sitting room in delicate eighteenth century antiques done almost entirely in ivory and gold. The full-length windows were covered in heavy cream velvet, the sofas and chairs were all covered in silk or velvet, and the wood on the tables and chairs was carved mahogany. Oriental-style rugs in pale colors covered the thick pile carpeting. In one corner, a baby grand piano stood awaiting Niles' skilled touch or CC's practiced attentions. The whole room exuded a lush baronial elegance that would have been intimidating if not for the warm lighting, lace afghans, and the incongruence of the books and papers usually scattered all over.
A wet bar near the bedroom door now contained only an assortment of juices and bottled water, for Niles had banned all alcohol from the second they found out she was pregnant. Well, as soon as they regained consciousness after fainting dead away.
CC sat with a lace afghan over her legs and Chester perched on her lap. She stroked the little Pom's soft hair as she flipped open Better Butler. She flipped past the gossip columns, since she knew none of the big names in the butler world save that of her own husband. She glanced briefly at an apparently red-hot debate on whether silver should be polished in circular motions or up-and-down strokes, and rolled her eyes. Finally she found what she was looking for.
CC couldn't help but chuckle as she read the article. They didn't seem to know whether to vilify Niles or make a hero of him. They certainly painted her in a flattering light, though she could have done without the pointed reference to the fact that her pregnancy predated her elopement. She scowled and decided that the press representative at the wedding would receive no exclusive commentary from her, and she would let him know why in very strong terms. No bunch of doddering old door openers were going to tell her who could and could not father her child!
When she didn't arrive on time for dinner, Niles came upstairs and found her there peacefully asleep, Chester on her stomach, the long-awaited copy of his favorite professional journal fallen to the floor. She seemed to fall asleep constantly as a consequence of the pregnancy. He suspected, with a sense of sad nostalgia, that it would be a while before they saw the CC who used to stay in the office until midnight without complaining and be back at eight a.m. smiling and eager to get to work. Niles lifted a sleepy, grouchy Chester into the little basket beside the sofa and gently shook his wife.
"So my magazine didn't come today, hmm?" he said wryly.
"I wanted to read what they said about you," she explained with a yawn. "Did I sleep here all night?"
"You're a little confused, honey. It's only dinnertime. I'd never let you sleep out here all night by yourself."
"Oh. Okay. What's for dinner?"
"A cholesterol special requested by Mrs. Sheffield. Eggs, sausage, biscuits and gravy." CC pulled a face. "Come on, up you go. We've got to indulge her, she's got postpartum depression."
"I've got pre-partum food cravings. Can we have coq au vin tomorrow for lunch?"
As CC went to a mirror to check her hair, makeup and clothing before descending for dinner, Niles whipped a tiny notebook out of his pocket. He turned to a page labeled, "You Know You're A Babcock When . . . " and added "#17: You're pregnant and you get food cravings for French cuisine."
"Niles, I just don't know what's wrong with me!" Fran moaned, pushing her egg around on her plate with her fork. "I'm tired all the time, everything makes me mad, and nothing's any fun anymore. Why do I feel like this?"
"Well, let's see," replied her muse, passing her a cup of coffee and sitting down at the kitchen table next to her. "In the last month and a half you've had twins, moved to a different state far from your friends and family, lived in the same house with my wife, and lost your grandmother."
Fran gave him a strange look. "What are you talking about? Nothing's happened to Yetta."
"I know, but she finally remembered she was married to Sammy and we haven't seen her since. I'm really starting to miss her."
"Niles, that was only three days ago! Of course, CC still hasn't calmed down after what Yetta said before she left."
"You mean, the knocked-up blonde floozy Yetta offered to get rid of for me? I know." Niles grinned as he remembered the look on CC's face.
"But I'll bet you didn't know Brighton was the father. You know, if she's not after one Sheffield, she's after another."
Niles choked and spewed his coffee halfway across the table.
Just then, CC walked in, looking nervous. She slapped her husband's back several times. "What's the matter, lover, did you inhale your dust-bunny collection again?"
"That was a happy cough. I just saw your bank statement."
"Well, enjoy it while you can. As of this afternoon, the hit man is arriving for the wedding. She's gonna take you out, and I don't mean dinner and a movie."
Niles snorted. "Weak, Babcock."
"But true, Butler Boy." CC waved a printout of an e-mail in front of his face. "Ready to meet your mother-in-law? She'll be here at two, God help us all."
"Oh come on, CC, how bad can she be? She's your mother -- oh, wait, that bad. Is she really upset about this whole eloping with the butler thing?"
"Well, typically, she didn't give a damn about not being at my first wedding, but she's a little upset about the butler thing." CC looked anxiously at Niles, unconsciously twisting the diamond on her left hand.
Niles sighed in resignation. "Will she still let you come out and play, or are you grounded?"
"I'm really, really grounded, and I think when she gets here I'm getting a time out."
"At least she left the spanking to Niles," Fran remarked. They simultaneously shot her a look. "Wow, you guys have developed his and hers glares."
"Well, exciting as the repartee is today, I've got to get back to the office. I'm going to attempt to lock myself in until she's gone," CC said. "Niles, I'd appreciate it very much if you'd just be a man and poison her coffee or something. Come tell me when she's dead."
Niles scrutinized her with wary eyes.
"Don't worry, Niles," Fran said snidely. "You clean up the house and I'll go buy a gun."
Niles and CC exchanged shocked expressions. Did Donna Reed really just say that?
"Hey," Niles complained. "That's my line."
Fran perched herself on the edge of the desk. "How do I look today, honey?" she asked, crossing her legs and arching her back to show off the petal-pink minidress.
Max looked up at her and squeezed her leg. "Smashing as always, my darling."
"Are you really busy?"
"Well, yes, rather."
"But I'm so bored."
Max laughed. "I know when I'm beaten. Here's my credit card, darling, knock yourself out." He reached into his wallet and selected one that didn't have a credit limit.
Fran looked at the credit card, then at her husband. She sighed and pocketed the card. Even shopping sounded boring. She really must be sick.
"Where are the children?" Max asked, seeing that she wasn't leaving.
"The twins are sleeping and Gracie's double-checking with the florists', caterers, vineyards, and all the rest for the wedding on Saturday. Hey, did you know that CC's mom is arriving this afternoon?"
"Yes, darling, she mentioned it. She didn't sound very happy. I think she'd appreciate it if we all rallied 'round to give her some moral support. You know, they haven't seen each other except in passing for over ten years."
Fran's lower lip began to tremble and her eyes began to tear up. "I don't care! I'm so sick of hearing about CC this and CC that! First she ruined the twins' birthday by getting married, then she moved in so she could be with Niles and he only has time for her, now she's getting married again and all her mean horrible family will be descending on us like Ma at a bake sale. After that CC will have her baby and everyone will like hers better than mine because it's newer, and, and -- " Fran began to sob wholeheartedly.
Max stood and gathered her into his arms. "There, there, darling, what's the matter? It's not like you to be so jealous! I thought you and CC were starting to get along? Just the other day you spent a whole afternoon on a chocolate and chick flicks binge without arguing once!'
"I know!" sobbed Fran. "And this morning I said a horrible thing about her mother, and I didn't mean to, it just came out! I'm just so tired and bored and I don't know why!"
Max made a sympathetic noise. "Well, darling, a lot of new mothers go through this. Why don't we call Dr. Reynolds in New York and see what she has to say?"
"Okay," sniffed Fran. "After that will you go shopping with me?"
"I can't, darling. I promised CC I'd go over the cast list for the show with her and make some final decisions so she can get all the contracts done before she goes on honeymoon."
Fran had been trying to calm down, but that was officially over. Now she began to wail in earnest.
Go on to Part Two
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