Long Night; Part 8

YAY!  

Since I was in too much of a cleaning-whirlwind yestreday to post, I've decided to make it up to you by double-dipping today!

Here's the next installment in the LONG NIGHT business.

I've been wanting to post this one for, um, months.  Not that it;s great, just... I like it and have liked it since the day I wrote it.  It was one of the first LONG NIGHT vignettes that I wrote.

Did you catch that the last one didn't end with  'long night' line?  Whoops.  A few of them don't, but I liked the common thread and tried to keep it going through most of them.

This is CALEB, who we don't see too often, but I heart him.  Of course, I also know secrets about him, shhhhh!

But he's a sweetie!

So enjoy part 8!!

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Caleb hadn’t told Jonah and Velvet about Gideon yet.  The invite to this family dinner had come addressed to both of them.  As had the marriage announcement. 

When Velvet had called to gossip with Caleb about Grey’s sudden marriage he hadn’t the heart to tell her about Gideon.  Why ruin her soaring high spirits with his own tale of woe?

He’d cried his eyes out to his best friend, then he’d finally sat down with Nolan and cried on his shoulder too.  Now it was just fact.  He was single.  Again.  For the first time in years.  Alone.

And he was going to show up at Jonah and Velvet’s sans partner, and he wasn’t going to lie about it anymore.  Nolan had made him promise as much.

“But, Nole, I don’t want to be a drama queen at this party for Grey and the new bride!”  He’d argued reasonably.

Nolan had shaken his head firmly.  “There’s nothing to be ashamed of.  You did the right thing.  You’ll be among family.  No more pretending.”

Ugh.  But he really didn’t want to have to explain to another person why he and the man he’d been about to propose to were finished.  And he knew his adorable sister-in-law would be tenacious.  Wouldn’t rest until she knew everything.

The worst part of it was the family had all been crazy about Gideon.  He’d fit right in.  Like it was meant to be.  Because Caleb had dated some real jerks, guys that made both his brothers’ respective hackles rise, guys that Velvet and Zahra had slammed and roundly dismissed as ‘not good enough’ for him.  Losers.  Always losers with killer bodies, but still, not marriage material.  Hell, not always even live-together material.

But with Gideon it had been different. 

Why the fuck had he cheated?  Caleb had racked his brain up and down, over and over, and tried to figure out what in hell he’d done wrong, what he lacked that had made the love of his life turn to another man.  A younger man.  Christ, that kid was closer to Grey’s age than to his own.

Whatever.

Caleb strode purposefully up to Jonah’s door and took a deep breath before ringing the bell.  He would live through this.  He’d survive it, and endure it, and he’d put on a smile and meet the newest addition to the Delaney clan. 

He forced himself to remain calm at the fact that his 24 year old nephew had just up and married someone, who, if gossip and rumor were to be believed, he hardly knew at all, when he, Caleb, couldn’t seem to pin down a marriageable man after more than a decade of serious effort.  Whatever.  Maybe he’d up and elope with the next guy he fucked.  Maybe that was the secret.

He was being hasty.  He’d see how Grey and this girl behaved together tonight and reserve his judgment till then.

“Uncle Caleb!”  His eldest niece opened the door with a false smile, which he hoped wasn’t because of him, and gave him a perfunctory hug and kiss on the cheeks.

“Hey gorgeous—you helping play hostess this evening?”  Avalon had moved to the campus but was still home often enough to still be considered ‘in residence’ at the Delaney mansion. 

“Guess so.”  She said as he moved into the foyer.  “Where’s Gideon?”

“He’s not coming.”  Caleb answered resolutely.  It was beginning.  “Where’s that dashing fiancé of yours?”  He dodged preemptively.

Caleb heard chatter and laughter from the direction of the living room and the kitchen both.  He’d spied Zahra’s van when he pulled up because he’d parked beside it, but hadn’t taken special note of any of the other cars.  He supposed he was running a tad behind.  It was taking him forever to get dressed and ready lately.  Everything he owned felt old and frumpy and unflattering.  And his hair was just plain rebellious since the break up.  He imagined it was sulking about Gideon’s absence. 

“He’s driving Aunt Grace over, so he should be here soon.”

“Oh good.”  Caleb loved Grace like an older sister.  “Holden?”

Avalon shook her head.  Holden Sinclair was a real sonofabitch.  Caleb doubted the man had ever gone more than a month without some form of infidelity to his gorgeous, brilliant, queen of a wife.  Everyone in Cedar Falls wondered why such an intelligent, self-assured woman stayed with a husband like that. 

Caleb was beginning to empathize with her.  There had been too many nights since he’d found Gideon in their bed with that young man, too many nights when he had considered accepting the convincing apology, considered calling him, considered relenting and finding a way to ‘work through it’.  He was beginning to understand how Grace could have stayed with Holden all these years.  Love does funny things to the best of us, he supposed.

And of course people close enough to the situation knew that while Grace Sinclair’s husband wasn’t exactly unwelcome at Jonah and Velvet Delaney’s, he wasn’t precisely welcomed with open arms either.  They were her friends first, his only by default.  Hell, Jonah had been somewhat leery when Avalon and Ben had started getting close. Even though they all knew and loved Ben like their own, Jonah was terribly worried that his father’s tendencies might have rubbed off of the boy.  It had taken him a while to finally relax and trust that the kid was perfectly decent and upright and definitely worthy of his daughter.

Caleb smiled thinking about it.  Everybody else had seen immediately that the old adage about girls and their fathers had come true with Avalon; she’d gone out and chosen herself a boy that was so much like Jonah it was almost hilarious.  He might look like Grace and Holden Sinclair, but Ben may as well have been raised by Jonah Delaney, so alike was he in demeanor and temperament.  He was kind and gentle and considerate and polite, he was helpful and affable and on the quiet side, he was smart and even-tempered and mature beyond his years. 

All growing up the boy had followed ‘Uncle’ Jonah around whenever the families got together for vacations or outings, while Grey was always sneaking off and causing mischief.  Ben had stuck with boyscouts years after Grey had quit, and Jonah had stayed on as a troop leader.  Ben volunteered at the hospital, just like Jonah had done at that age, he was an after-school tutor like Jonah had been, and he was, from all accounts, a bit of a romantic sap too.  His proposal to Avalon was something right out of a romance novel, or a girl’s diary it was so damned perfect.

And his rigid sense of decency, of gentlemanly conduct and honor, seemed to be taken right from the Jonah Delaney handbook.  There was no way that young man would ever fool around behind Ava’s back.   And Jonah was gaining one hell of a great son-in-law.

“You pick your colors yet?”  Caleb asked, slipping out of his winter coat and moving to the hall closet.  “At poker night Ben said something about lavender and lilac?”

Avalon made a ferocious growl and Caleb jumped a bit at the vehemence of it.  “Hey, straight boys don’t know colors, I assumed he was talking out of his ass.”  He soothed.

“Lavender and lilac are Mum’s fantasy.  Because of my eyes. If I hear her utter those colors again I’m going to lose it.” 

Caleb chuckled at her truculent tone of voice.  “Next time she tries to force purple on you—“  He lowered his voice conspiratorially as he hung his coat, “You just ask her how she felt about her mother always forcing her to wear velvet all the time.”

His niece’s eyes got wide.  “Whaaaat?”

Caleb laughed.  “Oh god yes.  That crazy old bat insisted that girl wear velvet at every event and special occasion—haven’t you noticed that your mother doesn’t own a single piece of velvet clothing?  Or drapes?  Or anything?”

Avalon’s face broke out into a wide grin.  “You’re kidding.”

“Swear to God.  She told me all about it one time when my dad was trying to get me to try out for football.”

“Leave it to Mum to talk about clothes when you’re having an identity crisis.”  Avalon commented wryly.

“Honey, there is almost never an inappropriate time to make fashion analogies with me.”

She laughed appreciatively.  “The old bat is here, by the way, so watch your tongue.” Avalon cautioned and began to move toward the living room.  “And she’s in rare form tonight too.”

Aw shit.  Velvet’s mother was a frigid old c-bag, and she made her distaste for his open lifestyle known every single time he was in her presence.  Caleb tried not to take her animosity personally.  Rumor was her husband had died in the arms of a whore, but the seedier truth of it, he’d learned from this ancient fag who ran the hair salon downtown, was that he’d died in the arms of a male lover—and he’d been deep into some pretty kinky shit too, from what he’d heard.

Caleb was about to comment on the delightful news of her wretched grandmother’s presence, when his youngest niece hopped into the foyer, looking mischievous and adorable.  “Uncle Caleb!”  She shrieked on sight, and ran full force into him with her arms spread wide. 

Caleb laughed with delight and lifted her high above his head.  She was light as a feather.  She’d be a peanut like Viola, he predicted.  “Princess Lola the all-magical!”  He declared with grandeur, spinning her as he lowered her back to her feet.

She bounced with delight, her exotic little face stretched in an over-wide grin, her eyes scrunched and giddy.  Nolan’s kids were absolutely gorgeous.  With that buttery-chocolaty skin, the rich, jet-black hair and the striking Indian aesthetic?  His girls were going to be knock-outs like their mother, only more mainstream friendly because of their white father, and Ajay was going to absolutely break hearts.  He’d probably be as handsome as his father, only he’d be more mysterious and alluring because he was bi-racial.  The younger two had Zahra’s hypnotizing midnight-black eyes, but Keer had somehow managed to get her dad’s blue-gray stormclouds, which stood out in her face in such a captivating way the girl almost took your breath away.

“Guess what?  I’m getting a baby unicorn for my birthday!”  Lola asked and answered before he’d so much as drawn a breath to respond.

“Oh my goodness, for real?”

The little munchkin nodded regally.  “Because I’m a princess and princesses need unicorns.”  She explained reasonably.

Caleb caught Avalon’s eyes and they shared a smile.  Lola was the cutest little thing alive.  “Well, yeah, obviously.  I figured it was only a matter of time.”  He responded seriously.

“Show Uncle Caleb your shoes.”  Prompted Avalon with an indulgent smile.

Lola was wearing a long peasant-style skirt in Bollywood colors, probably because it made her feel like a princess to have long skirts on.  He doubted very much that Zahra had had any say in the choosing of this crazy outfit.  The girl’s top was some kid-show graphic tee with sparkly stylized cartoon horses on it, with a long sleeved shirt underneath that had stars and hearts and rainbows all over it.  In her thick raven hair she wore a headband with rhinestones, which, he imagined, was close enough to a tiara to pass.  The peasant skirt looked like a pride parade had gotten hold of a band of gypsies—it was richly colored in Bollywood yellows and magentas and fuchsias and lime greens and turquoise and was threaded through with silver and even had little bells and reflective thingies sewn onto it.  Who the hell had bought her this skirt?  ‘Loud’ was putting it mildly.

She did her best elegant twirl as she spun, and Caleb saw Jonah arrive in the archway just in time to witness her display.  His older brother paused, an amused little smile on his lips, politely waiting for Lola to do her thing before he’d come greet his little brother.

Lola lifted her skirt to her knees and held one foot out to Caleb, saying ‘ta-da!’ as she revealed a pair of glittering ruby-red slippers.

Caleb made an exaggerated gasp and put his hand to his heart.  “Those are spectacular!” he enthused.  “Every princess needs a pair of those.” 

“Wonderful.”  Said a dry, sarcastic voice from the other side of the Foyer.  “Rainbows and ruby slippers.  I guess she’s well on her way to joining your community.”

Caleb clenched his teeth and stretched his lips into the best smile he could manage.  In the center of the foyer little Lola put her foot back down, and though she didn’t understand the comment she reacted to the obviously disparaging tone of it by frowning and furrowing her precious little brow.

“Oh hello again Celia, It’s been far too long.”  Caleb said pleasantly, turning toward his brother’s frosty mother in law.

She laughed shortly.  “I heard from Adele Ward that your roommate left you for a younger model.  I guess men are all the same, no matter which side their bread is buttered on.”

Caleb’s false smile became one of open-mouthed astonishment.  Wow.  There was so much offensive about that greeting that he couldn’t even begin to process it just then. 

There was a moment of awkward silence in the foyer.  Even Lola was quiet for once in her little life.  Then several voices overlapped one another.  Jonah began to say something curt to his mother in law while Lola wondered aloud about why it mattered which side of the bread butter had to go on, and Avalon moved quickly and with an easy grace that comes from years of practice, to steer her grandmother back toward the kitchen.

“Lola, sweetie, can you run and tell mummy Uncle Caleb needs to know where she bought you that skirt?”

Lola nodded, though she still looked puzzled and maybe a little unhappy—who could blame her when there was a scary old crone in the house?

Lola wandered off with a lot less bounce in her step and Caleb turned to Jonah.

“Yeah.”  He said to the question in his brother’s face.  He put his hands in his pockets to keep from fidgeting.

“No.”

Caleb nodded.  “Yup.  Few weeks ago.  Just before New Year’s.  Walked in on him in bed with someone else.”

Jonah took a sharp breath in and looked miserable.  “I’m so sorry.”  He said quietly, folding one arm across his chest and reaching up with the other to adjust his glasses.  “God.”

Caleb swallowed and looked at the beautiful stone floor between them.  “Kicked him out of the townhouse.”

“Good for you.”

“Yeah.”

“God.”

“Mm.”

“Why didn’t you tell me before now?”

Caleb shrugged.  How do you explain to your big brother that everytime a relationship doesn’t work out it feels like a failure next to Jonah’s incredible marriage to Velvet, or Nolan and Zahra’s?  How do you call your family and explain that the life you thought you were living, the life you believed you were building, was nothing more than a lie?  A mistake?  A waste of years of your life.

“I’m glad you ended it—if he was doing that, then you know he doesn’t deserve you—“  Jonah seemed to choke up.

Caleb nodded and pulled his mouth to the side.  He loved his brothers more than anything in the world.  “Still hurts like a bitch.”

Jonah grunted and finally moved forward to embrace him.  They clasped in a firm hug, Jonah patted him solidly on the back, and then kissed his cheek almost forcefully.  “You’ll find the right one.  I promise.”

Caleb had told Jonah that he wanted to settle down with Gideon, get married, start a family.  He felt like he’d lost more than a lover.  He felt like he’d been robbed of an entire future.  And he could tell Jonah guessed as much.

“Sorry about Celia.”  Jonah added sourly as they pulled apart.

“Yeah.  Wonderful.”  Caleb responded sardonically.  “This is going to a long goddamn night, huh?”

Long Night; Part 6

Been awhile.

There's alot of threads that get pulled into this one.  It's a Maggie scene.

enjoy.

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The dining room was set for eighteen.  Maggie marveled at how the table had seemed to double in size.  Or maybe it was a separate table altogether?  Would the Delaneys keep an entirely spare dining room table somewhere for larger family functions such as this?  She tried to imagine what their attic must look like, the treasures a mansion’s attic must contain.

And she noted two booster seats at the table and smiled.  So the Delaneys meant to include the children at the table.  For some reason this made her warm all over, and very appreciative of Velvet and Jonah.  While she herself had often been sent to a ‘kid’s table’ growing up, that seemed to be more out of necessity for space than anything else.  Even the adults were usually split up over several large tables, so numerous was her extended family.  Somehow seeing the younger place settings—there was even a pink plastic cup set up at one of them, alongside everyone else’s champagne flutes and crystal wine glasses—made Maggie very grateful for the Delaneys’ bottomless generosity and hospitality. 

She was glad there was no one in the dining room at that moment to see her well-up. 

After roundly cursing her silly hormones and blinking away the sentimentality, Maggie took a deep breath and headed toward the sounds of chatting and laughing.

She was nearly bowled over in the foyer by Velvet, one of the twins, and a beautiful dark skinned girl Maggie guessed must be Lola’s older sister. They’d been headed to the kitchen.

“Oh!  Good!  Maggie!”  Mrs. Delaney exclaimed and grabbed her by the shoulders, deftly dodging the pâté platter and landing two kisses of welcome on her cheeks.

“Hi Maggie!”  The twin said.  Maggie wished she could tell them apart.  She smiled in greeting but didn’t have a chance to speak--

“Did you make something?”  Velvet asked, examining the platter.  “Oh, no, this is my pâté.”  She giggled.  “But what are you doing with it?”  She giggled again.  “Oh, you’re helping?  Aren’t you sweet, thank you honey, but you’re the guest of honor!”

Maggie had barely drawn a breath and Velvet had managed to have a whole conversation by herself.

“Mum, let the girl breathe!”  Teased the tall redheaded girl affectionately.  “Sheesh.”

Velvet giggled again and she was joined in her merriment by the lovely young girl with the startling blue-gray eyes.  Velvet noticed Maggie staring at the girl.  “I’m so sorry Maggie, I’m just so excited.”  She placed a hand on the girl’s back and gently prodded her forward a bit.  “This is Keer, Nolan’s eldest.  Keer, this is your cousin’s new wife, Maggie.”  Velvet’s smile could have lit a small city.

Keer Delaney extended her hand and Maggie balanced the large pâté platter on her left palm in order to facilitate a handshake.  “Nice to meet you Maggie.  You work at the shop, right?”  The girl’s handshake was confident and it reminded Maggie forcibly of Nolan.

Maggie smiled as she shook the girl’s hand.  “Nice to meet you too Keer.  Um, yes, I work for your dad.”

“Are you still gunna, now that you’re rich?”

The twin laughed uproariously and Velvet giggled after gasping.  Maggie blushed all the way down to her toes as she met the girl’s earnest, no-nonsense gaze and searched for some appropriate response.

“Hell, maybe she’ll buy me out and I can retire early.”  Nolan spoke from the archway of the living room.

Maggie smiled at him, but found she was having trouble meeting his eyes.

“Hi Mr. Delaney.”  Maggie said.

“It’s going to get pretty confusing around here if you insist on formality tonight Maggie.”  Nolan teased warmly.  “You can call me Nolan.”  He crossed to her and gave her a kiss on the cheek in greeting.

Maggie smiled, but she didn’t respond. 

“Genny, be a dear and go get the brie things and, Keer honey, would you mind grabbing the fruit tray?  Genny knows where it is.”  Maggie thought her mother-in-law had a much gentler way of getting people to help than her new grandmother-in-law. 

Genny muttered something about needing a treasure map to locate the things her mother hid around that kitchen and Keer laughed as they breezed toward the dining room.

“How is business anyway Nolan?”  Velvet asked pleasantly, absentmindedly re-arranging some of the little appetizers on Maggie’s tray.

“Decent.”  He replied.  “I have this wonderful new sales clerk who seems to make the stock fly off the shelves.”

Velvet looked overjoyed as her gaze lit on Maggie.  “Really?!”

Maggie shook her head.  “He’s only teasing.”

“Am I?”  Nolan’s smile was charming and friendly.  “That week you took off was my slowest week in months.”

Velvet clapped with glee.  “I’ll have to come in and visit you when you’re working!”  She gushed.  “Maybe I’ll buy enough to give you the capital required for that baby unicorn I’ve heard so much about, Nolan.”

Nolan groaned as Velvet and Maggie shared a laugh at the poor father’s plight.

“Dad!”  A little boy raced into the foyer and darted around Nolan in a quick circle before dashing to the hall closet. 

“What’s up?”  Nolan asked with a grin.

“Tell ‘em I went that way!”  The boy whispered excitedly, wrenching open the closet and pulling the door almost all of the way closed behind him.

Maggie couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up. 

Just then Grey prowled into the foyer, Lola perched atop his shoulders.  Maggie’s jaw fell open.  She’d never seen him interact with children before tonight and until this moment she couldn’t have pictured such a scenario.  Grey Delaney and kids were not two images that went together, yet here he was.

“There she is!”  Lola announced in her piping, high-pitched little voice, and pointed a triumphant finger at Maggie.

“Good work.”  Said Grey, sounding a bit like a secret agent.  “One down, one to go.”

“Daddy did you see Ajay?  Look how tall I am!”

“I see you.  If he’s hiding in the chandelier you’ll have no trouble at all.”  Nolan commented.

Lola giggled and Grey swung her down from his shoulders with an easy grace that made something flutter beneath Maggie’s ribs.

“You go check the kitchen; I’ll scout around out here.  Divide and conquer.”

Lola nodded, looking conspiratorial.  She probably didn’t really understand either of the words in that phrase, but she seemed to grasp the spirit of it just fine.

“Oh good, I’m headed that way anyhow, let’s go together.”  Velvet said.

“Okay!”  Lola agreed “But hurry!”  And she zipped through the archway into the dining room.

Velvet laughed merrily as she followed, but not before giving her son’s cheek an affectionate caress.

Grey’s eyes followed his mother out of the foyer before they snapped to Maggie.  “What are you doing?”  He asked in a quiet but sharp voice.  His eyes went to the tray she was carrying.

Maggie’s eyes widened at his abrupt mood shift.  She was being interrogated, but she had no idea what for.

“N-nothing.”  She said uncertainly.

He opened his mouth to snap back but Nolan was quicker.  “She’s not harboring a fugitive, if that’s what you mean.”

Grey’s head snapped to where his Uncle had migrated, over near the coat closet.  He seemed torn between his desire to scold Maggie for something and putting on a pleasant face for company.  “Did either of you two citizens see a small, dangerous monster run through here?”  He said after several long moments had ticked by in uncomfortable silence.

A smile spread across Nolan’s face and he nodded.  “There’s a monster on the loose?”  He asked agreeably.

“I’m afraid so.”  Grey answered, casting one last glare at Maggie before stalking toward the closet.  She was bewildered.  What had she done to offend him?  Quickly she did a hasty mental run-through of everything she’d done and said since they’d arrived, but she couldn’t figure out how she could have done something to cause him offense in the ten, maybe fifteen minutes they’d been there.

“Well, please, I have a wife and children Sir, you have to catch that monster!”  Nolan played along somewhat casually.  It sounded to Maggie as if they played this game a lot and it had become old hat to them.

“Never fear,”  Grey responded mildly.  “I happen to have a monster tracking device right here in my watch, and it can sniff out monsters wherever they’re hiding.”

Nolan was laughing silently and pointing surreptitiously to the closet. 

Grey made a beeping sound like a radar picking up an anomaly.  “I think there’s one nearby.”  He said between beeps.  Maggie was enthralled.  Who was this person?

“Don’t worry madam, I’ll protect you.”  Nolan said, scooting away from the closet to give Grey more room for the ambush, and coming to rest by Maggie’s side.

She smiled at him, but could hardly take her eyes off this bizarre version of Grey.  The one playing monster hunter with his little cousin.

“Get ready.”  Nolan muttered under his breath, his eyes on the closet and a half-smile on his lips.

Maggie opened her mouth to ask what she should expect when Grey rattled the closet door handle and a valiant effort at ferocious growling and snarling emanated from within.  Her heart seized up at the grin that spread over her husband’s face.  He was so beautiful.

“This is it, Monster.”  He announced in a stern voice that belied the grin.  “The jig is up.  Come out with your hands in the air!”

More growling followed, but it was peppered with ecstatic giggles.

“He’ll never surrender!”  Nolan called pleasantly.

“Never is not an option.”  Grey responded in a sober voice, and then yanked the closet door open after an exaggerated count of three.

The little boy charged out of the closet in a fit of giggling and growling, his face scrunched from glee and from his play at being ferocious.  Grey caught him up in mid-leap and he seemed to fly for a moment before he was pinned against his older cousin and subjected to a merciless bout of tickling.

The little boy shrieked and hollered and laughed so hard he looked like he might just explode.  Maggie grew concerned that he might not be able to draw breath.

“Mercy!”  The boy cried frantically, high-pitched giggling making it very difficult for him to be understood.

“Mercy?!”  Grey challenged, sounding affronted.

“Pleeeee-hee-hee-hee-zzzzzzz!”  He was turning quite red and the smile on his face looked like it stretched tight from ear to ear.

The uproar was drawing a crowd.  An exuberant little Lola came bouncing back in, shouting triumphantly about the capture.  Keer wasn’t too far behind her younger sister, and she looked breathlessly delighted at the scene.  From the other side Grey’s Dad appeared in the archway with a beautiful, exotic woman in tow.  Maggie recognized her from the photo in Nolan’s office, but thought it hardly did her justice.  This woman was stunning.  It made Maggie inexplicably happy to see that she was curvy.  Full figured, but well proportioned.  She reminded Maggie powerfully of her own mother, though this woman was taller.  Maggie’s Mamma hadn’t been much more than 5’2” or so. 

“I dunno.”  Said Grey, struggling to keep a firm hold on the wriggling mass in his arms, tickling all the while.  He flipped the boy over so that he was dangling upside down.  “Should we have mercy on a monster?”  He called to the foyer at large.

Lola declared loudly that no, he should not receive mercy, but the rest of the foyer outvoted her.

“I guess even monsters have mothers.” Grey reasoned, throwing a grin over at the archway where his aunt stood waiting for the little boy’s inevitable release.

“Please good sir, release him to my custody--before he passes out.”  Maggie had expected an accent, but as exotic as the woman looked she seemed to have been born or at least raised here.  She didn’t have even a trace of an accent, but her voice was surprisingly low in timbre and sort of raspy—an exciting and intriguing sort of voice; deeply female and rooted in the earth, Maggie thought.

Grey flipped the boy once more, so that he was right side up, and placed him on the ground.  He spun the boy around three times before releasing him, muttering something that sounded like a magic spell, but Maggie couldn’t catch it.  Lola was hopping around with a spatula she must have pilfered from the kitchen, waving it like a magic wand and casting her own spells into the foyer.

And then Grey let go, and the little boy, his eyes not quite able to focus, started toward his mother with a grin and a very unsteady step.  The foyer chuckled at his weaving wandering, and the boy laughed too. 

“Get the monster!”  Lola cried, and charged at her brother at full speed. 

Maggie’s eyes widened in alarm, but the little girl’s parents worked as a perfect team; moving in swift unison Mrs. Delaney wrapped her arms around her stumbling little boy as Mr. Delaney grabbed up his youngest and tossed her into the air just a moment before what would have been quite a nasty, full speed collision.  Maggie felt like clapping.  Lola did clap when at last she was nestled onto her father’s hip.  “Again!”  She demanded, drawing appreciative chuckles from the crowd.  She was a bit of a ham!

“That’s the problem with those ones.”  A cold, snide voice declared in a mock-whisper, and Maggie turned to see Mrs. Calder on the stairs behind her, pretending to speak quietly to Avalon.  “All the noise!”

The mood in the foyer immediately shifted and Maggie felt the back of her neck tingle a little at the tension.  Mrs. Calder seemed not to register the shift at all.  She continued down the stairs with a smug, false little smile.  “Come along dear—“  She said to Avalon, “The appetizers are being served.”

Maggie’s eyes flicked to Avalon, who, to her credit, looked thoroughly embarrassed and apologetic.  She trailed after her grandmother and rolled her eyes, indicating that she believed the old woman just as insufferable as everyone else in the foyer did.

Maggie wasn’t sure what the older woman had meant, but it had felt decidedly uncharitable.  The old woman very clearly did not care for children.

As Mrs. Calder sailed by her she scooped up a little crostini of pâté from the tray without so much as acknowledging Maggie with a glance.  Then she went out of the foyer toward the dining room saying something about ‘the good families’ of Cedar Falls and ‘mixed marriages’ and Maggie’s jaw fell open.  It was getting to be the default mode for her jaw this evening.

“Hello again Maggie.”  Avalon said quietly as she passed, pausing for just a moment to place two stiff kisses on her cheeks. 

“Hello—“  Maggie replied vaguely, but Avalon had already disappeared through the archway to the dining room before Maggie managed to move her tongue and vocal chords to action.  Had she misheard the woman? Or maybe misunderstood?

“I’m so sorry.”  She thought she heard Jonah mutter to his brother and sister-in-law.

Nolan lifted his lips into a smile Maggie recognized from working with him as his ‘grin and bear it’ smile.  It was the one he wore when particularly pretentious or obnoxious customers would come in and drop label names to sound impressive, or put down his shop as ‘quaint’, or murmur comments about the selection being lacking.

He shrugged and his wife waved a hand, as if to say ‘don’t worry about it’.  She looked less bothered than did her husband.  Nolan crooked a finger in the direction of his eldest daughter, who had moved out of the archway when the old woman passed by, and she obediently moved to his side.  He ruffled her hair, which she tried to dodge, and then he looked up at Maggie.

“Maggie, I’d like you to meet my family.”  He said, his tight smile slowly melting into a more genuine one, the tension slowly ebbing out of his shoulders and the muscles around his eyes.  “Lola you’ve already met, and this is my daughter Keer,” Keer gave her a little wave—they’d just met a few minutes before—“This little monster is Ajay,”  Ajay looked suddenly sheepish and moved to hide behind his mother’s flowing skirt.  “And this is my wife Zahra.  Zee, this is Maggie.”

“So glad to finally meet you Maggie.”  Zahra Delaney said with a warm, dazzlingly white smile.  “I’ve heard so much about you.”

Maggie felt her cheeks flushing.  “Thank you.”  She said, feeling shy and sheepish as well and suddenly wishing she had a mother’s skirt to hide behind.  “The same goes for you—for all of you.”

Zahra looked pleased and laughed.  “Only good things I hope.”

“Oh, yes, all wonderful things.”  Maggie rushed.

Nolan and his wife laughed.  Maggie thought back to the picture on his desk at the shop.  Something wasn’t quite right.  An older daughter, a baby girl, a younger boy—there was a son missing.

Looking from face to face she opened her mouth to say something, inquire about the boy she had yet to meet, when Grey appeared at her side.  He stared at her meaningfully but she couldn’t guess at his meaning.

“This is my wife, Maggie.”  Grey said, clearly addressing his cousins.  “We got married.”  He added, when the foyer remained quiet.

“Why didn’t we get to go to the wedding?”  Keer asked, her tone slightly accusatory.

“Yeah!”  Exclaimed Lola.  “We’re flower girls!”  Maggie guessed she was making reference to Avalon’s upcoming wedding.

“We didn’t have a wedding.”  Grey explained.

“But you just said you got married.”  Keer countered, trying to catch her cousin in a lie.

“Kiki, not every marriage has a wedding.”  Zahra Delaney said gently. 

“Whaaaat?”  Lola asked, craning around her father to stare at her mother.

“Oh, like, justice of the peace?”  Keer asked.  Maggie was impressed.  How old was the girl?  She looked like maybe she was ten or eleven.

“Exactly.”  Grey said.  “Nobody went, just me and Maggie and the JP.”

“Why?”  Keer demanded.

“Keer Delaney, watch the tone please.”  Her father said quietly.

She pouted.  “Sorry.”

The foyer went quiet again.  Maggie swallowed.  She didn’t know what to say, so she said nothing.

“Hi Maggie.”  Jonah finally broke the quiet, crossing to her and kissing her cheeks gently.  “You look lovely.”  He said generously.

“Hi.  Oh.  Thank you so much.  Hi.”  He smiled.  She thought he understood how she was feeling and was grateful for his sympathy.

“I’m headed to see if I can be of any use in the kitchen.”  He said affably.  “I think I might be able to locate the cookie jar, if anyone wants to join me…”  He said striding toward the dining room with a small smile.

Lola pumped her legs in a frantic effort to get down, Ajay popped out from behind his mother, and even Keer lit up and spun to follow Uncle Jonah.

“Don’t spoil your dinner!” Zahra called after them.

“One cookie.”  Nolan was cautioning the squiggling little beauty on his hip. 

She nodded and whimpered and pushed against him, her spatula wand nearly smacking him in the face.  “Lola Jane.”  He said sternly, but Maggie thought she spied a twinkle in his eye.

“Yes Daddy.  Just one!”

He landed a swift kiss on her head before setting her loose.

“You have a beautiful family.”  Maggie said to the handsome couple remaining in the foyer.

They smiled in response and met eyes.  Maggie was moved to see how much love and affection and mutual respect could be contained in one small glance.  “Thank you.”  Zahra said at the same time Nolan said “Thanks.”

“Where is—“ She began, thinking of the older boy in the picture, but Grey cut her off.

“Did my mother ask you to do this?”  He asked shortly.  She furrowed her brow.  He looked formidable and grim.

“Do what?”  She asked, embarrassed by the tone he was using to address her.

He gestured to the tray she’d almost forgotten she was balancing on one palm.  She’d been a waitress since she was thirteen; it came as second nature to her to walk around with large trays.  Besides that, she came from a large, fairly traditional Mexican family.  There wasn’t a single family gathering that didn’t involve her walking around with a tray of something or other.

“Oh.  No.  Your grandmother asked me—“

Grey’s expression darkened.  “She ‘asked you’?”  He demanded.  “Or did she tell you?”

Maggie blinked several times and wondered at the difference.  Her own grandmother never exactly ‘asked’ when she wanted something done, she simply directed Maggie to a task.  She thought back to her interaction with Grey’s grandmother.  “Um.  I suppose she ‘told’ me—but—“

“Put it down.”  Grey said coolly.

Maggie stared at him.  He wasn’t looking at her.  It felt as though he was rather disgusted with her.  “It’s alright, I don’t mind helping—“

“Put it down.”  He repeated, this time with steel edging the command.

“I don’t understand—“  Maggie said, her voice hardening to match his.  She didn’t like being ordered around by him.

She felt the tray being lifted from her hand and she startled—being a waitress for so long made her nerves jump at the thought of a spilled platter.  But it was Nolan.

“Let me.”  He said gently.  “Once a cater-waiter, always a cater-waiter.”  He smiled.

“I really don’t mind.”  Maggie protested.

“She told you to carry it because she assumed you’re the goddamned help.”  Grey snapped.

Maggie froze.  She watched Nolan’s smile evaporate and his eyes narrow at Grey.  “You’re the guest of honor.”  He said in a forced neutral tone, speaking to Maggie but not taking his eyes off his nephew.  “Why don’t you go ahead into the living room and relax.”

Suddenly Maggie remembered the comment Mrs. Calder had made about Maggie’s ability to speak English, about the ‘also nanny’ exchange, and then about what she thought she’d heard her say about Nolan’s ‘mixed’ family and she washed over furious. 

“Thank you Mr. Delaney.”  She said stiffly.  “But I think I’d like to go offer Mrs. Calder some Pate.”

Nolan’s eyes flicked back to Maggie and he stared at her.  Then he grinned.  “I understand the impulse.”  He said.

He looked ready to hand the tray back but Grey grabbed her elbow and steered her out of the foyer without another word.  She allowed him to do it only because she wasn’t willing to have a scene in front of his family.  She wanted to pull away and give him a piece of her mind.

When they’d crossed into the living room, which was blessedly vacant at present, he pulled her around and put a finger on her lips.  Her eyes widened and she had the insane impulse to bite it.  Who the hell did he think he was?  What gave him the right to man-handle her and shush her like a naughty child?

“Nolan’s son died three years ago.” He said in an urgent whisper.  “They’re better about it now but whenever it gets mentioned he tends to go off the deep end.”

Her lips parted in shock and he removed his finger somewhat carefully.  She was startled.  Then filled with grief for them.  Then very, very grateful that Grey had so deftly circumvented her near colossal faux-pas.  “Oh my God.”  She breathed.  “I’m so sorry.”

Grey licked his lips, swallowed, and nodded.  “I figured he’d never said anything at work, and that you might be expecting four kids if you’ve seen pictures.”  He said, keeping his voice low.  “He never, ever talks about it.”  She felt his grip on her elbow soften.  “I should have told you before we got here.”

They were standing quite close.  His gentle hold on her elbow felt warm and strong, and very distracting.  Her lips felt flushed and strange where his finger had been.  She gazed into his pale green eyes and could barely draw breath.  She thought she saw a ghost of grief and pain in his eyes and she reached up, without a second thought, and gently placed her hand on his face.  His cousin.  She’d lost a baby cousin when she was maybe twelve, and it had been just awful for the entire family.  She watched him blink several times at the presence of her hand on his cheek, but he didn’t pull away.

“Like father like son.”  Said an icy voice from behind Maggie.  “Keep your paws off the help Calder Grey—I hope you signed a prenuptial agreement; I don’t want half my company in the hands of the young lady you’ve scorned when she catches you playing with the servants.”

Maggie’s jaw fell all the way open and Grey’s grip on her elbow clenched once again as her hand hastily leapt off his cheek.  She watched something cold and dark steal over his expression before he curled his lips into a dangerous smile.  Gently he guided her lower jaw back upward, his index finger curled under her chin, his eyes locked on hers.  Then he placed a hot, electric kiss on her lips.

Maggie felt hot and cold all over.  She heard the woman tisk in disgust behind her.  His tongue flicked over her lips once, then, just as suddenly as it had come, his mouth was off hers and he was pulling himself to his full height and spinning Maggie to face the old crone.

“Granny!  You’re looking radiant as usual.”  He said in a mockery of a warm greeting.  “I’d like to introduce you to my wife.  Magdalena Teresa Ramirez Delaney? My Grandmother, Mrs. Sebastian Calder Esquire.  You can call her Granny.”

Maggie stared wide-eyed at the woman and endured the woman’s pale, ice-blue eyes scanning over her from head to toe several times, each once-over proving apparently more disagreeable to the woman than the last.  “I’m not remotely in the mood for your little jokes tonight Calder.”  She said dismissively and moved into the room.  “Better let her scurry off back to the kitchen, I don’t think your brainless mother thought to hire more than one of them this evening.  Eighteen guests and only one server?  I swear that girl gets more empty-headed every day.”

Maggie heard a small, almost inaudible growl from the man beside her and his grip on her elbow was becoming bruising.

“I’m so pleased to finally meet you Mrs. Calder.”  Maggie ventured, afraid of what Grey would say otherwise. 

The woman sneered at her and looked distinctly put-off at being addressed by ‘the help’.  “What have you done with your tray?”  She demanded coldly.

“Granny, it seems your age is catching up with you.  You must not have heard me well enough. This is my wife.”  Grey repeated, his voice chilly and threatening. 

“Oh there you both are!  Good!”  Velvet Delaney rushed into the room looking flushed with excitement.  Viola trailed after her looking bored and quite beautiful.  “Oh, mother, you’ve met Maggie?”

Mrs. Calder looked faintly furious as she began to comprehend that this young, plain, Mexican girl was indeed now legally related to her.  “This enchanting creature?”  She asked, her tone dripping with poison.

Velvet grinned and nodded enthusiastically.  “Don’t they look gorgeous together?!”  She hurried over to caress Grey’s cheek once more and then squeeze Maggie’s free hand excitedly. 

“Very handsome.”  Mrs. Calder responded, her lip curled into an ungracious sneer.  “But of course we know his blood could be mixed with just about anything, afterall, so it’s likely in his nature to seek out the more, colorful, types.”

“Mother!”  Velvet looked hurt and mortified and very distressed.

“Hey Maggie, wanna see Grey’s old room?”  Viola asked brightly, wresting possession of Maggie’s elbow from Grey as he released it and began striding toward his grandmother.

“Um—“  Was all she managed as Viola steered her from the living room.  She craned her neck to try to watch what was happening behind her.

Velvet had both her hands on Grey’s arm, which seemed to be enough to keep him in check, and Mrs. Calder appeared entirely unruffled.

As she and Viola reached the foot of the stairs Mr. Delaney strode into the foyer and halted.

“You better get in there.”  Viola said with a smirk, dragging Maggie up the first few steps.  “Mum needs you.  Grey’s about to murder Granny.”

Maggie watched with a mixture of alarm and fascination as Mr. Delaney sighed, adjusted his glasses, nodded firmly, and strode toward the living room.

“So.  Having a good evening so far?”  Viola laughed as she pulled Maggie insistently upward.

“Shouldn’t we—“  but Maggie didn’t really know what she should be doing.  She wanted to be down there, with Grey, but at the same time she wanted nothing less.  She was concerned and very confused; what had all that been about?  What had Mrs. Calder meant by some of those things she’d insinuated?  Maggie recognized well enough that they were insulting, but much of what the woman had said made very little sense to her.  “Should we, go? Help?”

“Nah.  My Dad will handle it.  He always does.”  Viola sounded confident.  “C’mon, Grey’ll come up here and get us when my Gran’s been put in her place.” 

Maggie furrowed her brow.  This really was going to be a very long night.

Lon Night; Part 5

Awww. I just keep learning things about these characters. They surprise me. sometimes they delight me. Other times they depress me. Still other times they make me slap my forehead or tisk or throw my hands up.

The next installment of the LONG NIGHT dinner party is from Nolan.

I hope you enjoy it to pieces. There's a flashback embedded in there, which isn't the norm, but here it fit.

Enjoy some Nolan. i always do. He's another one i have a real fucking soft spot for.

We'll see...

****************

Nolan couldn’t quite put a finger on just why he was so distracted this evening.  But he was.  Distracted. 

“That’s the third time I’ve had to call your name.”  His wife hissed through clenched teeth as they sat in Jonah’s den that evening, waiting for the big family dinner to get underway. 

“I’m sorry.”  He offered promptly.  There was no excuse, really, he was sitting right next to her.  “What’s up?”

He made himself focus.  He looked her in the eye and gave her his undivided attention.  And winced.  She was looking beautiful, but a bit like a wrathful goddess at present.  He tried his best smile; that usually melted her no matter what her temper.

Not tonight.

“Don’t you try that on me Nolan Delaney—“  She said, boring holes into his eyes with her own.  “Either you snap out of it or I’m getting back in the van and going home.  I’m not interested in dealing with all this on my own tonight.”

He swallowed, feeling appropriately chastised.  He slipped his hand over hers, where it rested on her knee, and squeezed.  “I’m here.  I’m sorry.  I have a lot on my mind.”

She pursed her lips and narrowed her gorgeous eyes skeptically.  “All afternoon I’ve been begging and pleading with you to tell me—“

“So sorry!”  Velvet Delaney half-sang as she whirled into the livingroom, looking flushed and glowing and perfectly put together despite the well-used apron covering her cocktail dress. 

Nolan stood automatically, helping Zahra up as well, and received Velvet’s customary cheek kisses, then reclaimed Zahra’s hand while she received the warm greeting as well.  “Hey Sis.”  Nolan murmured.  “You look enchanting, as always.”

Velvet giggled.  “You charmer!”  She gushed.  “I refuse to believe you can even spare a glance at another woman when your wife looks as ravishing as she does this evening!”  Impulsively she squeezed Zahra again before standing back to verbally admire her sister-in-law’s dress, hair, makeup, and what-not.

Nolan smiled deeply.  His wife was quite ravishing.  “She’s a goddess.”  He replied, and lifted Z’s smooth, dark hand to his lips for a gallant kiss.  She smiled at the gesture, smiled for Velvet’s sake, but Nolan saw in the flashing of her midnight dark eyes that she was still pretty pissed at him. 

“Can I help in the kitchen?”  Zahra offered immediately.  She was always more comfortable in a kitchen.

“No, no, not just now.  I promise I’ll let you know.”  Velvet breathed, throwing her pale green gaze around.  “Lola’s in the kitchen with me, coloring.”  She said with a genuine smile.  “Where are the other beautiful Delaneys?”

Nolan could hear cartoons on low in the den behind him.  “Ajay’s in the den.”

“Keer went with Avalon and Genny.”  His wife finished.

Velvet sighed a very happy sigh.  Nolan had misgivings about her, sure, but there was one thing he was sure of after all these years: she loved her family.  She was a person full of love and good intentions.  He just wasn’t certain good intentions were enough in some instances.

“I have to apologize—you may not see Vienna this evening.”  She said in a suddenly low and somber voice.

“Is she ill?”  Nolan asked sharply.

Zahra and Velvet looked at him, then looked at eachother.  “No, no.” Velvet rushed to assure him.  “Broken heart.”

Z looked sympathetic and Velvet nodded sadly.  “Poor thing.  Who was it?”  Z asked in that same low voice.

Nolan refrained from rolling his eyes.  Then he suppressed a smirk.  He’d imagined the twins were made of sterner stuff—had never seen either of them over-emotional or prone to moodiness the way Jonah’s other two girls were.  But.  He supposed, with a small surge of affection, that tough and level-headed as they were, they still carried the DNA of Jonah and Velvet, two of the most romantic, soft-hearted people he’d ever known.

And she was eighteen, right?  He supposed moping up in her room over some idiot boy was par for the course for any girl that age.  Ugh.  He hoped Keer could somehow skip all that teenaged nonsense.  He almost groaned outloud thinking about Lola getting to be that age.  No thanks. 

He’d missed part of the conversation again.  Fuck. 

“—trust a boy in a band.”  His wife was saying.  He nodded along thoughtfully. 

“Excuse me, ladies, Where’s my brother disappeared to?”  Nolan smiled kindly, but he was sure his disinterest in teenaged love-life catastrophes showed all over his face.

Velvet paused, ready to say something or other about the kinds of boys who formed local bands, no doubt, and looked stumped.  “You know, I’m not sure.  He’s not in the kitchen.  Why don’t you go see if you can find him and drag him back to his hosting duties!”  She said with a sweet-as-pie smile.  “Hog tie the man if necessary.”

Nolan laughed but didn’t feel merry.  His brother was one of the other little problems niggling at his mind tonight.  He’d greeted them when they’d first arrived.  He’d looked pleasant and well groomed and perfectly normal, but, something cold just slid right down Nolan’s spine at the sight of him. 

That was troubling.  Because, try as he might, Nolan couldn’t figure that one out at all.  It was the same sort of visceral reaction he used to have bartending, when one of his patrons had a nasty secret of some kind.  Like wife beaters, or gambling addicts who’d just bet the house and lost, or women who were two-timing, or crooked politicians. 

But this was Jonah, for god’s sake.  Whatever gut reaction he’d had to his brother this evening, Nolan was sure it couldn’t be anything sordid or scandalous.  It was Jonah.

Nolan needed a drink. 

He headed to the den first, to check on Ajay.  “Hey buddy.”  He said seriously, eying the cartoon on the tv screen.  It looked awfully graphic in the violence department.  “Whatcha up to?”

“Nuthin.”  His son replied rather guiltily.

“You supposed to be watching this?”  He asked stoically.

He locked eyes with his son for a long moment.  “No.”  The boy mumbled and reached for the remote.

When Ajay wasn’t looking Nolan grinned.  He loved this age—when they knew right from wrong and were still utterly honest about their own misdeeds. Then he cleared his throat.  “I think that’s enough TV for now, huh?  Go see your Aunt.  She’s looking to give you a big hug.”

Ajay laughed a little as he worked on locating the ‘off’ button, then he bounded out of the den with a pretty fetching smile.  If he’d had an aunt like Velvet, Nolan had no doubt he’d have bounded out with the exact same expression.

Suddenly Jonah appeared.  Looking pale and as distracted as Nolan felt this evening.  “Velvet said you were looking for me?”

Nolan smiled an easy smile, though it didn’t feel so easy at present.  “They started talking about teenage relationship problems and I wanted to get the hell out of there.”  He explained,

“Oh.”  Jonah said vaguely.

They stood awkwardly for a moment.

“You okay, Jones?”  Nolan asked as Jonah said “I put the wine in the cellar.”

“Wait, what?”

“The wine.  That you brought.  That’s where I went.  I was.  Putting it away.”

Nolan blinked.  “How come?”

“Why?” Jonah corrected automatically.  Nolan raised an eyebrow and Jonah had the grace to look contrite.  “Sorry.  How come.  Because.”  He stopped.  “Shit.”

Nolan smiled at his brother.  “Unless you had something already chosen, I don’t want to impose—“  Nolan knew for a fact that he wasn’t imposing.  Velvet had called the shop to tell him what she was serving and had asked him to make selections for the evening.

“No, no, no.  I’m an ass.  I don’t know what I was thinking.  I.  Christ.”

“Let’s go get it.”  Nolan suggested.  “I wouldn’t mind disappearing for a little bit too.”  He wouldn’t mind dwelling in the wine cellar he’d designed for them either.  And practically stocked himself.

He couldn’t be sure, but it seemed as though Jonah blanched.  “Was I gone long?”

Nolan bit the insides of his cheeks.  The old Nolan Delaney creep alarm was going off in his head.  “Jones, what the hell is going on?  You feeling alright?”

Jonah opened his mouth then closed it.  He did that again.  Then he shook his head a shade ruefully.  “It’s a big night.  Velvet’s put a lot of energy into making everything perfect perfect perfect.”  He laughed weakly.  “I guess I’m just on edge.”  He admitted.  “Celia’s here.”

Nolan frowned. He figured she’d be here.  Fuck.  Nolan couldn’t stand the woman.  There were precious few people Nolan Delaney had to really struggle to be polite to.  Celia Calder, Velvet’s mother, was one of those few.

Nolan had resigned himself to this meeting, to what it would entail, but that resignation didn’t seem to make enduring it any better.

“Now I’mma call her in here, son, and you know what you have to do.”  Mack Franchesci, Owner of La Buggia Bella vineyards and five-star restaurant, Nolan’s boss and mentor for going on five years, said solemnly.

“Sir, I don’t think I can do that.”  Nolan said just as solemnly.

Mack looked disappointed and a shade irritated.  “Goddammit Delaney.”  He said, getting up and pacing behind his enormous oak desk in the winery’s finest office.  The one overlooking the spectacular view of the most beautiful vineyard Nolan had ever seen.  The office that had been promised to Nolan, that would have been his in just a few short years.  “I don’t want to have to fire you, boy.”  He was exasperated but he was set on his path.  “And you don’t have to tell me how wrong the old bat is, I know she’s a bitter, mean-spirited old ice-berg, but Goddamit Delaney.”

Nolan waited patiently where he sat, straight backed and somber in one of the chairs positioned in front of Mack’s desk.  He’d said his peace, he’d explained everything to Mack, about his part in the whole Calder-Grey debacle, about his firm but less-than-friendly handling of the wealthy and influential Mrs. Calder, and beyond that he decided to stand his ground.  He wouldn’t grovel.  Even if it meant losing everything he’d been working for and dreaming of since he’d graduated high school.

Mack stopped pacing after a minute or two of conflicted muttering and creative cursing.  “You know,”  he said in a voice that was clearly put-out, “I have plans too, kid.  I have plans to retire in three years and I don’t want to even think about changing that.  I’m too old for all this.  Goddammit.”

Nolan nodded sympathetically, but chose not to comment.

“Marilyn will have my balls in a vise if I have to go to her and tell her we can’t move to Italy for another few years more.  Jesus effing Christ.”  He ran a hand over his very bald dome and blew air through his lips.  “I’m begging you boy, don’t let your pride get in the way of having all this.”

He stared Nolan down.  Nolan stared back, not defiantly, but not defeated either.  It was what it was.

“Sir, I don’t want to give this up either, believe me, but I haven’t done anything wrong, and I can’t stomach pretending otherwise.”

Mack threw his hands in the air and rolled his eyes to the heavens and he began muttering in rapid-fire Italian.  He paced and cursed and shook his fists and gesticulated flamboyantly.  Nolan knew enough Italian by now to catch the drift, as if his boss’ inflection, tone, and body language hadn’t been clear enough.

“I can only say how sorry I am that I’ve put you in this position.”  Nolan interrupted after hearing himself referred to as a stupid, ungrateful fool in Italian for the third time.  “I am sorry my actions have reflected poorly on you and your business and I’m sorry that you seem to feel you have no choice in the matter.”  He swallowed.  “But beyond apologizing for being less-than-polite, I don’t feel there’s anything more I can do to appease the woman.”  He sighed and ran a hand through his own hair restlessly.  “She wants my job, and nothing short of that will satisfy her.”

As if on cue the little intercom on Franchesci’s desk buzzed pointedly.  She was here.  And she wasn’t the sort of woman to be kept waiting.  Mack met Nolan’s eyes in a last ditch attempt to persuade the young man to capitulate.

Nolan gave a soft smile and a slight shake of his head.  He wasn’t going to back down.

“This girl, she worth it?  Worth all the trouble?”

Nolan’s lips twisted.  “I’m not the one in love with her Mack.”  He said quietly.  “But you know I’d cut off my own hand if Jonah needed it.”

Mack made a face that indicated he believed Nolan to be a complete idiot.  Then he shrugged and with a heavy sigh punched the intercom button on his desk. 

“Mrs. Calder to see you sir.”  Carla, Mack’s secretary, said in her most professional voice.  Nolan liked Carla.  They’d been on a few dates.  He wondered if she’d still see him even if he wasn’t destined to be the next owner of La Buggia Bella and one of the wealthiest people in Cedar Falls.

“I’ll be right there, thank you Carla.”  Mack said evenly.  He took his finger off the button and shook his head.  “You be nice Delaney, you hear me?”

“Of course, sir.”  Nolan responded promptly. 

“She’s going to try to get a rise out of you.”

“I don’t doubt it.”

“I may not get a chance to talk to you after.”  He said grimly.

Nolan swallowed and nodded.  He stood and extended his hand to his boss.  “It’s been an absolute pleasure working here sir, working for you.”  Nolan cleared his throat to keep the emotion out of his voice. “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate all you’ve done for me.  The opportunity.”  He clamped his mouth shut because he could no longer keep the waver out of his tone.  This place was his life.  Until today it had been his future.  Mack was like family.

But.  He wasn’t family.  He was a business man. Nolan was an employee.  They weren’t bound by anything beyond professional courtesy.  Jonah was family.  And so, one day, would Velvet be too.  This was the way it had to be.

Mack looked like he didn’t want to do it, but he shook Nolan’s hand miserably.  “Goddammit Nolan.”  Mack said roughly and pulled him into a firm, clumsy embrace.  “You’ve been a son to me.”

Nolan received the rough pats on the back and returned them with equal vigor.  Then Mack was adjusting his tie, smoothing the tufts of hair over his ears and clearing his throat as he walked to the door of his office, ready to greet Mrs. Sebastian Calder.  Ready to fire the best employee and apprentice he’d ever had.

Nolan remained standing.  He squared his shoulders, lengthened his spine and took a deep breath.

And he wondered, just as Mack had, if the girl was worth all this.

“Nolan?”  Jonah was peering intently at his brother.  “Where’d you go, just now?”  He asked gently.

Nolan grimaced.  “Sorry.  Just remembering how much I enjoy your mother-in-law’s company.”  Nolan intoned sarcastically. 

“Sorry.”  Jonah said quickly, reacting to Nolan’s suddenly stormy expression.

He shrugged.  “She’s family.  I knew she’d be here.”

Jonah didn’t seem to have anything to say to that assessment.  They stared at one another again.  “The wine.”  Nolan prompted.

“Of course. Yes.  Right.  Sure thing.”  Jonah hurried.  “Let’s go get that wine you brought.  The red will need to breathe, of course.  I’m such an ass.”

Nolan smiled at his brother’s back as he followed him from the den.  Between his wife’s suspicious glares, his brother’s unsettled nervousness, Celia Calder uncensored, and his own distracted moodiness, this evening was shaping up to be one long migraine.

And the honored couple hadn’t even arrived yet.  Quite against his will and better judgment, Nolan’s gut roiled whenever he thought about Maggie and Grey.  Another irritating little puzzle that he’d have to sort through before too long.

This was going to be a long goddamn night.

Long Night; Part 4

I love Maggie.  

As a writer, this is dangerous.  Because I like her so much, I tend to want everything to work out for her, and the scenes with Maggie tend toward almost saccharine sometimes.  I'm doing my very best to avoid that.  

But I just love her to bits.

Enjoy this next vignette about the long night, starring Magdalena!  Woot.

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Maggie was not particularly in the mood for another Delaney family dinner.  This one larger than the last.  She had a lot on her mind.  It had been one of the longest weeks of her life.  She had a new name, a new bank account, a new home, a new car, a new family, and a husband.  And tomorrow she was getting married…again. 

She’d asked Grey if he would be available to make the sacrament with her.  He’d gotten very quiet but he’d nodded, asked what time he should be at the chapel, what he should wear, and if he needed to bring anything.  He seemed resigned to the Catholic ceremony that he obviously viewed as redundant.  Well, he had been the one to offer it up as a possibility in the first place.  “We can be married by a priest as well if you’d like Sir.”  He’d said to her father at that painfully awkward wedding day brunch. 

Now it was time to actually do it, and to his credit he hadn’t put up a fuss.  But he’d been pretty taciturn and moody since that discussion.

And now they were arriving at the sliding glass door in the rear of the Delaney mansion once again, looking into the brightly illuminated perfect kitchen, granite surfaces covered with various platters and bowls and dishes for the evening’s festivities, and he’d hardly spoken a word to her in hours.  She was so nervous she’d nearly turned back three or four times on the walk over.

She consoled herself by focusing on the fact that he didn’t seem to have a large family and that this event would likely be very manageable.  Mrs. Delaney would be there, making sure conversations stayed pleasant and flowing.  Mr. Delaney would be there, and his was such a supportive presence.  Plus Grey’s twin sisters had been very pleasant and chatty last time, so they would probably be helpful.  And Ben Sinclair.  Maggie had never met a sweeter young man in her life—(Grey didn’t count because he’d turned out to be quite an ass, proving his sweetness false in the end) he was affable and warm and so very kind.  She’d be glad to see him again.

But Avalon didn’t seem to like her much at all and she was an intimidating sort of girl.  Maggie felt especially shabby and poor beside her polished elegance and refined sensibilities.  And then Grey’s grandmother would be in attendance.  Maggie’d never met Mrs. Calder, nor had Grey said much about her, but the woman had a reputation around Cedar Falls for being miserly, cruel, cold, and very sharp tongued.

And another set of butterflies was dancing in her belly because her boss would be in attendance.  She’d never seen Nolan Delaney in a social context before, and even though he was probably the finest man she’d ever met, she was becoming ridiculously self-conscious around him and dreading seeing him in this family setting.  He’d been somewhat aloof to her at the shop this past week.  She couldn’t quite put her finger on it, because he was as friendly as ever, smiled just as easily as he had before her honeymoon, but something was definitely more distant about him.  And it made her so nervous she thought she might vomit.  And she’d be meeting his family too. 

Grey slid the door open and a rainbow colored blur darted out from the breakfast nook and straight into his front with a delighted squeal of a greeting.

“Ooof!”  Grey grunted at the impact and the blank surprise of being ambushed on entry.  Then his face split into a genuine grin and Maggie was surprised at how her heart flipped in response to the sight of it.  He hadn’t been smiling much lately.

“Hey munchkin!”  He said, stooping down and lifting the colorfully garbed little creature from where it was wrapped around his leg, and tossing it into the cold winter night above his head.

It giggled exuberantly.  “Greyyyyyyyyy!”

Maggie remembered Lola Delaney.  She was the only member of Nolan’s family that she’d had the privilege of meeting so far, since he often picked her up from kindergarten and took her with him to work while his wife ferried the other children from school to soccer or instrument practice or other such activities.

“Hi Lola.”  Maggie said after Grey had finished tickling her breathless.  “Aren’t you cold out here without your coat?”

“Hi Maggie!”  Lola grinned.  “How come you’re here at my Uncle Jonah’s?”

Grey took the hint about the coat and carried Lola through the door and set her down on the kitchen floor once more.  Maggie followed and slid the door closed behind them.

“Can I take your coat?”  He asked Maggie as he shrugged out of his own.  The kitchen was quite warm, especially compared to the brisk air outside, and she was glad to doff the peacoat she’d borrowed from Viola.  She still hadn’t gone out to purchase a new one of her own.  She could only take so many new things at a time.  This week was: new last name; maybe next week would be new clothes.

But once she’d shed the coat she began to wish she’d at least gone out and picked up a few nicer garments.  The plain black dress she was wearing suddenly felt very frumpy as she stood in the glorious Delaney kitchen.  She’d bought it for her great-aunt Flora’s funeral the previous winter so it was conservative and simple and not especially flattering; and if it felt shabby in the kitchen she imagined it would feel like a trash bag when she stepped into that breathtaking dining room of theirs.

“Are you here to see Daddy?”  Lola pressed, then spun in place to show off the pretty billowing of her floor length peasant style skirt. 

Maggie laughed.  “Maybe I’m here to see you!”  She deflected, her eyes catching the stack of coloring books and the box of crayons over on the table in the breakfast nook.  “What are you coloring?  Can I see?”

Lola brightened and bounced off toward the nook with glee.  “I have four different ones.”  She explained.  “There’s one that’s princesses—it has every princess and all the dresses and some of the princes too.”  Maggie trailed after the girl and tilted her head to follow along as Lola flipped through a coloring book of Disney princesses.

“I’ll go hang these up.”  Grey said, uninterested in the coloring books, and evidently uninterested in sticking by her side this evening. 

Maggie nodded.  She’d have to learn to fend for herself in Delaney country sometime or other.  Afterall, she was Maggie Delaney now, wasn’t she?  She had every right to be here, standing in this kitchen, interacting with her boss’ daughter, unaccompanied by an escort.

Why did she still feel like such an imposter?

“Plus I have this one, there’s almost no room left in this one ‘uhcause I had it since I was little.”

Maggie repressed the urge to laugh.  If this girl got any littler she might just disappear.  She was a peanut.

“You’ve done a great job with that one.”  Maggie told her earnestly, looking at the wild scribbles on every page.

Lola tossed it away from herself and grabbed up the next one.  “This one is all the gods and goddesses.”  She informed Maggie.  “Nobody else in my kindergarten even has this one.  This is from India.”

“Wow.”  Maggie breathed, looking at all the magical creatures and figures on the pages.

“Yeah.  My Daddajee and Didima are from India.”  The girl turned her midnight black eyes up to Maggie and seemed to be waiting for her response.

Maggie wasn’t quite sure what the girl had just said, but she’d have guessed maybe she was referring to her grandparents.  “Wow.”  Maggie repeated, allowing her awe to color her tone.  “I’ve never been to India, have you?”

Lola looked pleased that Maggie was suitably impressed.  “No, not yet, but Dadajee and Didi tell me all the stories.  My Mummy has been lots of times and my Uncle Sanjay too.”

Maggie smiled.  “Has your Daddy been?”  It was wild to see this side of Nolan Delaney’s life.

Lola nodded vigorously.  “They went for a wedding present.  We’re all gunna go soon I think.”

Maggie raised her eyebrows and murmured about how exciting that sounded.  Then Lola moved on to show off her ‘most favoritest’ coloring book, this one featuring unicorns and mermaids and other very little-girl targeted illustrations.  She informed Maggie that her Daddy had promised her a unicorn for her birthday.

Her lips twisted into a small smile remembering the day her own father had explained to her that Unicorns had been too foolish to get on Noah’s Ark before the flood.  She’d cried for hours before reconciling the loss of such a marvelous creature.  Then she’d asked her Papa for a pony instead.  He’d agreed to think about it.

The kitchen door swung inward and Maggie saw the little girl scowl before turning herself to see a very elegant older woman breeze into the room.

She smiled at the woman, though she felt rattled to her bones at the prospect of meeting Grey’s grandmother without him at her side.  The woman wore a heart-stopping diamond necklace and dizzying diamond teardrops at her ears, as well as a diamond tennis bracelet and several more gaudy rings than were strictly necessary.  Her suit was of unmistakable quality, though Maggie didn’t know the first thing about brands and wouldn’t have been able to tell if it was Chanel or Yves St. Laurent or what.  It was knit and looked almost as if it might be armored—steel gray with ice blue threading.  She was slim and rigid, not too tall, but she looked formidable despite her slight frame.

The woman did not return the smile.  She raised an imperious eyebrow as she glanced over Maggie from head to toe.  Then she called over Maggie’s shoulder to Lola.

“That mother of yours is looking for you child.  Best get yourself out of the way and see what it is she wants.”

Maggie’s eyes widened.  The woman’s voice was just as chilly as her outward appearance would suggest, and there didn’t seem to be a drip of friendliness or warmth in her words.  Not even when speaking to a five year old.  Maggie swallowed hard as she felt Lola rising from her seat to obey the less than polite dismissal.

“She’s not in the way over here.”  Maggie assured the woman.

“Don’t be absurd, children ought not to be underfoot in the kitchen while food is being prepared.”

Maggie couldn’t imagine disagreeing with that sentiment more.  Her happiest memories of her mother were all set in their little family kitchen or in the kitchen at the restaurant.  Helping her mother prepare meals or bake desserts was part of the fabric of her understanding of family, of hearth and home.

Lola sidled up to Maggie’s leg, hesitant and unsure.

“Why don’t you go see what your Mummy wants and then maybe you can come back and color, ok?”  Maggie said in a kind, friendly voice.

Lola looked disappointed but she nodded and then scooted toward the kitchen door, swinging in a wide arc to keep as far away from the older woman as possible.

“Do you also nanny?”  The woman asked Maggie.

Maggie wished her brain didn’t feel so sluggish.  Also nanny?  “No, but I have a lot of young cousins.”  She answered with a smile.

The woman made a small snort.  “I could have guessed that much.”

Maggie felt her cheeks flush.  She opened her mouth to make a more formal introduction when the woman waved a dismissive hand and gestured to the various platters laid out on the kitchen island.

“I’m not sure which ones she wants to go out first, my guess is the pâté, so grab up a tray and get out there—we’re only waiting on the queer uncle, so I imagine it’s time to start.”   She turned on her expensive heel and pushed the kitchen door open, but paused.

“I’m so relieved you speak English, that will make everything easier.”  But she didn’t sound relieved, she sounded condescending and harassed.

Then she was gone.  Maggie stared at the gently swinging door and wondered what in heaven had just happened.  Her eyes fell to the covered trays on the counter.  She hoped she could figure out which one was the pâté.  She’d never even seen pâté before.  She thought maybe it was soft, though she couldn’t pull on any solid piece of learning to back that notion up. 

She lifted a few lids and settled on one that looked like grayish mousse on slices of baguette, garnished with what looked to be chives and maybe fig.  She lifted it with a sigh.  How on earth was Mrs. Delaney even related to that aging icicle?

She had a feeling it was going to be a very long evening.