Chapter 10
DeAnna Zankich
Sequel to | Sweet Redemption
Summary: The days leading up to the big `I do'.
Warnings: None
Author Notes: A thousand thanks to my sweet friend Kristina Grönberg for the title.
Spoilers: None
Glancing at the clock, he bit his lip anxiously. "I'll go downstairs and check us out, all right?" he said as Stuart was packing up his toiletries.
"We've got `til eleven, Vince. I'll be finished in a second." He shoved his shaving kit into his bag then went back to the bathroom for the rest of his things.
Vince leaned on the dresser and tapped his toe against his already packed suitcase. He had a bad feeling about leaving the hotel. Somehow he just knew they would run into Brian.
The knock on the door was very soft but it made him jump nearly out of his skin. He walked down the hallway to the door, peering through the tiny peephole there. He was only slightly relieved to see Kate standing outside.
"Hiya," he said, opening the door.
"Good morning," she said, stepping up to kiss his cheek. "You guys are almost out of here, right?"
"Yeah. Stuart's just packing up. Come on in."
"Thanks." She strode into their suite and walked right into the bedroom with Vince following. "Bunny?" she called.
"Hey!" Stuart came out of the bathroom with a big smile for her. He gave her a hug and a kiss on the lips. "I was gonna say goodbye before we left, don't worry."
"Come down for breakfast. You have time." Kate looked at her watch. "Oh, maybe not. When's your flight? 12:30?"
"Yeah," Stuart said. "We've gotta go, actually. I'm just getting the last of my things. Are you and Richard still taking the train up tonight?" He went back into the bathroom.
"We are," Kate said, walking over to sit on the bed. "I'm kind of excited. I've never taken the train just for fun before. First class and everything." She smiled at Vince as he leaned against the dresser again.
"That should be nice," Vince said. "You didn't want to fly up?"
"We would have, but we figured why not? Taking the train is something neither of us have done so we thought we'd make a romantic evening out of it. It takes a little over two hours so we're just gonna cuddle and look at the scenery, have a bottle of champagne. It'll be lovely. And then we're having dinner at your mom and dad's, right?" she called into the bathroom.
Stuart came out once again with a few more of his things clutched in his hands. He shoved them all into his bag then zipped it up. "Yes," he replied. "You'll have to ask Vince for the particulars. He's the planner."
Vince rolled his eyes and smiled. "Margaret wants everyone there by 7:00. Will you and Richard still be able to make it with the train ride and everything?"
"We get in around seven, actually. So we might be a little late. We'll go check into our hotel and then we'll come right over." She looked at Stuart as he went into the bathroom one last time. "You and I are still on for tomorrow, right?"
"Right," he said, flipping off the light and giving her a wink. "And I expect you to show me a fantastic time seeing as YOU are my one- woman stag party."
She walked over to him and tickled his side playfully. "Ooooooh, the striptease I could do for you, baby . . ." Putting her arms around his neck from behind, Kate planted a smacky kiss on his cheek. "If it looks like we'll be any later than eight o'clock, I'll call you when we get to the hotel tonight, okay?" She went to Vince and gave him a tight hug. "Have a safe trip home. I'll see you two cuties later."
Vince kissed her cheek again. "See ya later. Enjoy the train. Should be nice."
With a wave and another bright smile, Kate turned and left them, closing the door behind her.
Stuart took their airline tickets out of his bag and looked through them once more before tucking them into the side pocket for easy access. "Right. I think that's it." He checked his watch. "It's half ten. We might have time for a quick bite if you want."
"Nah," Vince said. "I'm not really hungry yet. I'd rather just wait `til later."
"All right." Stuart shouldered his bag and took one more look around the suite. "I guess we're ready, then." He held the door open for Vince and they went down the carpeted hallway to the lifts.
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Stuart:
At Claridge's front desk, he couldn't help glancing around at the people milling through the lobby and moving in and out of the restaurant. He wasn't intentionally looking for Brian, but he wouldn't have been adverse to one last glimpse of the tall, handsome bastard either. He could feel Brian's presence in the hotel. Somehow, Stuart felt certain he was near. It was like a faint prickling up his spine that made him shiver as though someone was breathing softly on the back of his neck.
He could tell Vince was anxious. He wanted to leave, to get as far away from Brian Kinney as possible. While he stood waiting for Stuart to sign the credit card slip, Vince scanned the crowded lobby with watchful intent. Stuart leaned over and kissed his cheek.
"Wha'?" Vince said a bit sheepishly.
"Just relax, luv. We're going. Why don't you go out and get us a cab?"
"Right. Okay." Vince grabbed both their bags and walked toward the hotel's front doors.
Stuart finished the rest of the transaction with the polite desk clerk then he folded the receipt and tucked it into his wallet. As he walked by the restaurant on the way to the door, he glanced in unconsciously.
At a square table in the center of the diningroom, Kate and Richard sat with Brian and Michael finishing breakfast. Michael's back was to the door of the restaurant and he was in the middle of telling a story. Richard and Kate were listening to him, smiling and following his tale. Brian faced the door and when Stuart passed it, their eyes locked.
Stopping as though someone had physically blocked his path, Stuart stood just outside the restaurant doorway and returned Brian's penetrating hazel-eyed gaze. Brian looked tired and sad but still beautiful and after a prolonged, tense moment his lovely lips turned up in a smile. Stuart smiled, as well, and then he put on his sunglasses and headed outside to where Vince was waiting for him by their taxi.
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Michael:
". . . so then this Kurtz guy just starts goin' OFF! He's saying all this shit to Brian and just being TOtally insulting. I didn't know what was going to happen and then Brian just PUNCHED him! Almost laid him out, too."
Brian breathed a laugh and looked down at his half-finished cup of coffee. "I wasn't really trying."
"Of course not," Kate said, slugging his arm gently. "You're such a tough guy normally."
"I could kick YOUR ass," he teased her.
Richard chuckled congenially. "Oh, I'd pay to see that! And, no offense Brian, but I'm afraid I'd have to bet on Kate."
Michael tried to stifle his laugh, knowing Brian would not appreciate it. They still hadn't smoothed things out from the night before and he didn't want to stir up anymore negative energy.
"What time is the train?" Brian asked Richard, clearly derailing the previous subject because he disliked it.
"It leaves around 4:15 out of Euston," he said, turning to his wife. "And then we have that dinner thing, right?"
"Right. I told the boys we'd be a bit late since we don't get into Manchester until 7:00-ish." Kate picked up her coffee cup and sipped from it, her pretty green eyes flitting over to Brian. "So what else do you guys have planned for London? You're here `til Saturday, aren't you?"
Brian nodded. "It's up to Mikey. Whatever he wants to do, we'll do it. I've pretty much seen everything at least once."
"I want to see the cheesy stuff," Michael confessed. "The wax museum and the dungeon. All that."
"Actually, there's a great exhibit at the Whitechaple Gallery that you might enjoy," Richard said. "They have a whole room based on comic book art since the 1950's. There are some really rare pieces."
"Really?" Michael enthused. "That would be excellent! Whitechaple, again. Isn't that The Ripper's neighborhood?"
"Mm," Brian said. "I'm sure we can find some ghoulish souvenirs for the guys." He looked across at Kate and his eyes darkened slightly. "You're having dinner with the Stuart and Vince tonight?"
She set her cup down with a soft clink and gave him a patient sigh. "Yes, honey. Stuey's mom is making a meal for some of their friends that flew in from other places for the wedding. I think Richard and I are among a handful of Americans and the rest are family and friends from around Britain. Vince's father and his half sister are going to be there, I think. Should be nice to meet everyone."
Brian nodded, looking down into his cup. "They'll probably get shitloads of gifts," he said almost to himself.
Michael frowned at his friend, wondering what on earth THAT had to do with the price of beans in Mexico.
"Did you send them something?" Kate asked, apparently riding right along Brian's wavelength. Michael frowned at that, too.
"Of course," he said. "They're my friends and they're getting married. It would have been bad form not to send them a gift."
"What did you get them?" Richard asked conversationally. He reached for the coffee pot on the table and poured everyone more in amazingly equal measures.
"Something for their bedroom," Brian said. "What did you guys get them?"
"Richard and I got them something really `weddingy'," Kate said. "It's this fabulous modern art-looking vase for their dining room. It'll be perfect for that one corner by that big light wall they have? You know where I mean."
Brian nodded, obviously knowing what she meant. Michael had to stop looking at him. All the reminders of how close his friend had gotten to the two Brits had suddenly begun to really bother him.
"I saw it the other day when I was out shopping and I just bought it," Kate went on. "It's perfect. But I got Stuart something just from me."
"Aw," Brian teased. "Is it a lacy negligee for his wedding night?"
Kate nudged his arm. "Keep your fetishes to yourself, Bri. This is civilized company."
Again Michael had to stifle his laughter and that time Brian shot him a look. Clearing his throat, Michael looked away shyly hoping he and Brian would be able to talk on their own soon. There was way too much tension between the two of them after all that drama the night before. He hated it when he and Brian were having any kind of conflict. It upset his inner balance. Michael glanced up at his friend again as they finished their coffee and offered a small hopeful smile.
Thankfully, Brian smiled back, even if it was very quickly.
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Vince:
As soon as they'd left Claridge's behind he started to feel like himself again and by the time their flight took off from Heathrow, Vince was famished. He sighed in his seat, glancing at his watch to see how long it would be until they landed in Manchester.
"All right?" Stuart asked when he saw him fidgeting.
"I'm starving. I don't know what I was thinking. We should have had breakfast at the hotel."
"No we shouldn't have," the brunette said, absently rifling through a magazine he'd picked up in the terminal.
"No?" Vince said curiously. "Why not?"
Stuart shook his head then he leaned back in his seat. "Brian and Michael were in the dining room with Kate and Richard when we walked out. You were already so damned apprehensive, Vince. Last thing I wanted to do was interact with him again with you in that state. I'd never seen you so bloody jumpy."
Vince's brow creased. "I wasn't. I just didn't particularly want to see him again."
"I know."
"It would have been too . . . awkward."
"I know," Stuart insisted.
Feeling his cheeks heat up and hating it, Vince looked away. "I can't help that I'm insecure about him," he muttered.
Stuart breathed a laugh. "Vince," he said leaning forward with his elbows on the armrest between them. "It's over, all right?"
Vince sighed sadly, but he would lie to say he wasn't enjoying this last bit of reinforcement from his lover. "I know it is. I'm sorry. I . . . promise I'll stop moping about it."
"Good," Stuart said with a wry grin. He held Vince's gaze for a long time, his beautiful dark blue eyes glittering with mischief and affection. "Come here," he whispered. "Kiss me."
Vince smiled and leaned forward for a soft, warm kiss.
Stuart was still looking at him with that same expression and he licked his lips. "Kiss me again."
Breathing a laugh, Vince parted his lips against Stuart's and stroked his lover's tongue with his own. He sighed when Stuart moaned very quietly.
"You're not really going to leave me alone tomorrow, are you?" he said, brushing his nose slowly against Vince's.
He had known this subject would come up again and had actually been thinking a lot about it. Settling back in his seat, Vince said "it's not that I want to leave you alone, Stuart. I just . . . thought it would be sort of romantic to miss each other a bit. We . . . have sex so often that it's part of our regular function inside this relationship. I just thought it would make it a bit more special if we abstained the day before we got married. That's all. Plus, I've got some things to do that I need to do on me own."
"Fine, do your things," Stuart said. "I'm happy that you arranged for me to be with Kate because you know that will be fun for me. I'll be fine during the day, but I just don't want to sleep without you. We don't have to shag if you don't want to. Just come home and sleep beside me."
Vince laughed. "Oh, right! We can't even be in the same room without shaggin', Stuart. Let alone lying next to each other in bed!"
"We could do," he said seriously. "If the abstaining is really the thing you want. But if you make me sleep by myself, I'll be cranky and bitchy all day Saturday and no one wants that. We all know I how I get."
"Yeah," Vince agreed. "We do." He looked out the window at the clouds drifting by the airplane. They would be landing in Manchester in half an hour and then the real madness of the wedding begin. He took a deep breath, forcing himself to savor the short amount of peace they had left. "All right," he said. "I'll come home to sleep beside you." He turned to Stuart and reached over to hold his hand. "I want to wait, though. I don't want us to shag."
"I said that was fine," Stuart said. "But I still don't know what you're trying achieve. Do you think it will make you feel like a virgin again or something?"
Shaking his head, Vince said "it's not about how it will make ME feel, luv. It's about how it will make you feel. I . . . sort of love it when you're craving me. I give you so much sex that it doesn't take very long for you to get hungry. You're accustomed to a great deal of affection you know."
Stuart smirked. "Yeah. But I always crave you. One day isn't going to make it that much different."
"Oh, yes it will," Vince said, smiling intimately. "Believe me. I know these things. I'm an expert on Stuart Alan Jones."
Laughing, Stuart said "all right, Vince. Whatever you want." He squeezed his lover's hand then turned his attention back to his magazine.
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Stuart:
Just as the taxi pulled up in front of their building, both their mobile phones started ringing. They laughed at the sudden shift in action in their lives, knowing the next few days would be crazed with activity.
As they rode up to the second floor in the lift, Stuart spoke to Sandra on his phone while Vince spoke to Hazel on his.
"Welcome back," Sandra said. "I have ten thousand phone messages for you, but we can do that later. The reason I'm ringing you is that I wanted you to be prepared before you walked into your flat. You had loads of wedding gifts delivered here to the office and I was forced to bring them to yours. I could hardly open the office door anymore. I tried to keep them out of the walkway in the flat, but there are loads of them."
"Really?" Stuart said. "That many? Well, that's nice, I reckon. People are being thoughtful."
"To say the least," Sandra retorted. "Oh, and one quite fancy package was delivered via messenger. I put that one on your bed. Anyway, sorry about the mess in your flat. If you need me for anything today, I'll be here until 4:00. I've got to pick up my husband from a dentist appointment."
"Okay. I shouldn't need anything. I'll just see you tomorrow, yeah?"
"Absolutely. Are you excited?"
"I'm getting there," Stuart said, rolling the gate back on the lift. "See you then. Thanks, Sandra." He hung up and pocketed the phone, taking out his keys as Vince carried on his conversation with his mother.
"I know they did," Vince was saying, his tone patient like it always was when he spoke to Hazel. "But obviously something came up. It's really all right, Kate and Richard are going to be late as well. It's fine, Mum. I'm sure Margaret won't mind."
Stuart unlocked the door and pulled it open--and his breath stopped in his lungs.
"Oh my God," he said.
The entire lounge was packed full of prettily wrapped boxes and fancy baskets full of wine, spirits and exotic foods. The large expanse of wood floor between the kitchen and bedroom was cluttered with more of the same. They stood in the center of it all, jaws gaping, looking back and forth at the two massive piles of gifts.
"Blimey," Vince breathed. The phone was still pressed to his ear and Stuart could hear Hazel chattering away to her son on the other end. "Mum," Vince said, interrupting. "Have you been to the flat since we've been gone? There are . . . about twenty million presents in here."
Stuart looked at his lover and started to laugh. "This is mad," he said, heading up to the bedroom with his suitcase. He turned on the bedside lamp and dropped his bag by the wardrobe. When he turned around, he noticed the large box on the bed that Sandra had mentioned. It was about the size of a small suitcase and wrapped in what appeared to be very thin silk.
While Vince told his mother he would call her back, Stuart walked to the other side of the bed and touched the wrapping on the box. Just as he'd thought, it was fine, crisp silk. The fabric had a delicate pattern of pale brown lines and dots that was nubbly to the touch-- almost like the raised bits were made of velvet. The ribbon tied around the box was pale pink and when Stuart touched it, he smiled. Satin.
"Fuckin' hell . . ." he murmured.
Vince stepped up into the bedroom, his eyes still wide with surprise. "Most of the boxes and things are from Harrods," he reported. "Did you . . . do a wedding registry for us or something?"
"I didn't," Stuart said, his fingers running over the silk and then over the smooth satin again and again. The combination of textures was delicious. "But maybe Sandra did. Or Romey. That sounds like something either of them would do."
"What's this?" Vince reached out for the box and made a soft sound when he touched the fabric. "Is that silk?"
"Yeah. Feel the ribbon." He tugged the end of the satin bow and it untied with elegant ease, slipping away from each side of the box and puddling gently on the white comforter.
Vince pulled it out from under the box and wrapped it around his hand, gently brushing it against his face. "The wrapping alone is bloody posh. Can't imagine what's inside. Is there a card?"
"Not that I've found." Stuart located the spot on the lid where the wrapping had been attached to the box with a piece of fabric tape. He lifted the tape and the silk fell away just like the ribbon had-- elegant and dramatic and totally decadent.
The box itself was plane white. Stuart pulled off the lid and set it aside, peering in at the pale pink packing popcorn that covered the actual gift. Vince held the box at the sides while Stuart tugged out an opaque gold plastic bag that had a zipper all the way around. The contents could not be seen through the plastic. Setting the bag on the bed, Stuart found the top of the zipper and slowly opened it along its thin seam.
Almost as though it had been dying to get out, a delicate cream colored blanket tumbled onto the comforter as soon as the bag was open enough to free it. Stuart turned the zipper bag upside down and emptied the rest of the huge blanket out, smiling at how soft and lovely it looked.
Vince was the first to touch it and he gasped. "Oh my God!" He grabbed Stuart's wrist before he could reach for the blanket and looked at him with joyful mischief. "Wait," he said. "Don't touch it yet." He walked around to where Stuart was standing and proceeded to pull his shirt over his head. "Take off your clothes."
"Why?" Stuart said, not really protesting, just asking out of curiosity. He let Vince unbuckle his belt and slide his trousers down, willingly stepping out of them. He toed off his shoes and socks and then wiggled out of his Calvin's.
"Brilliant," Vince said, that mischievous smile deepening. "Now, turn around for me."
Dutifully, Stuart turned to face the headboard. He could see Vince gathering the blanket and spreading it out wide between his hands.
"You will not believe this," Vince purred as he stepped up behind his lover and slowly wrapped the cream-hued blanket around him.
The first sensation was a soft tickling all over his naked skin and that led immediately into the most luxurious, sensuous stroking Stuart had ever felt. As Vince wrapped the soft blanket around him and gently rubbed it across Stuart's back and belly, he realized that fine gift was made entirely of cashmere.
"Ooooooh . . ." he sighed and his cock swelled instantly. "Oh, my God . . . this is fanTAstic . . ."
Vince laughed low against his neck and cuddled Stuart's body with the blanket. Closing his eyes, Stuart let his head drop back onto Vince's shoulder. He moaned as the cashmere caressed him all over-- his shoulders, lips, back, nipples, belly, ass, thighs, cock. His erection shuddered against the fuzzy blanket and he covered Vince's mouth with a blazing kiss.
"Is that nice?" Vince whispered as he wrapped his hand around Stuart's throbbing cock, his fingers gripping through the blanket. He rubbed Stuart's erection up and down, stroking the cashmere over the hot skin and gently teasing it across the sensitive head.
All Stuart could do was groan and tremble, the pending orgasm boiling too hot to ignore. His whole body thrummed with excitement and his mouth filled with saliva as his balls tensed and contracted. He came in a hot blast against Vince's belly, whimpering softly.
Pulling him close and hugging him, Vince put kisses all over Stuart's naked shoulders and neck, purring soft words to him, soothing him sweetly.
"Again, please . . ." Stuart pleaded, kissing him. "Do it again . . ." He raised his hips into Vince's hand and offered his still hard cock for more stroking. "Just . . . rub the blanket on my cock . . . please . . ."
Vince kissed his neck as he stroked the insanely soft fabric all over Stuart's belly and down his thighs, once again grasping his cock and stroking the blanket up and down it. Stuart moaned desperately, gripping Vince's shoulders and begging him not to stop. He'd only come in such rapid succession one other time in his life--the first day he learned to masturbate when he was ten years old. Shaking and almost crying from the intensity, Stuart's balls clenched and semen erupted once again from his tingling cock. The second series of contractions was harsh and a bit too strong, but he didn't care. The pleasure he felt from the luscious cashmere overrode everything.
He barely noticed when Vince laid him down on the bed. His lover grabbed a tissue and cleaned the spunk off his skin before he rolled Stuart around in the blanket again. Bits of the packing popcorn that were scattered on the bed crackled under his weight and Stuart giggled like a little kid.
"Did I get spunk on it already?" he asked.
"No. I was careful." Vince gathered the soft blanket all around Stuart's body, then laid beside him on the bed. "Here's the card," he said, picking up a small pale pink envelope.
"Where was it?" Stuart rolled over onto his side, sighing as the soft blanket caressed him everywhere.
"It fell out when I unfolded it," Vince said. He slit open the envelope and pulled out the small elegant card, opening it so they could both see what was written there.
`Stuart and Vince, Congratulations on taking this huge step. I wish you every happiness. Here's a little token of my affection. I hope it will bring you both a great deal of pleasure. love and kisses, Brian'
"`Love and kisses'?" Vince said grinning.
"Cheeky," Stuart concluded.
"It's fantastic, though. Must have been right expensive." Vince took a corner of the blanket and stroked it between his fingers. "Cashmere kitten bellies," he said and then he winked playfully.
Stuart smiled from the memory of the first time he and Vince explored the luscious pleasures of cashmere. "Mm. I don't even want to think about how much it cost," he said. "But I absolutely LOVE it and there is no way in hell I'm sending back--just in case you were planning on trying to make me."
Vince shook his head. "Of course not. It's a wedding gift for both of us. It's different than a bit of jewelry he sent just to you. Besides," he said, placing a kiss on Stuart's forehead. "It's bloody lovely. Goes really nicely with our bedroom."
"And it's conveniently cream colored," Stuart quipped.
"Yeah. That Brian doesn't miss a trick." Vince got up and went down to the main floor of the flat. Stuart could see him from where he was reclined on the bed.
"We should open some of these others," he said, glancing back at Stuart. "Come down here and help me."
Getting up reluctantly, Stuart held the fuzzy blanket close to him, making sure it didn't drag on the floor. He walked down the stairs and weaved through some packages to one of the barstools where he sat down. "Right, grab whatever box you fancy."
Vince looked from one pile to the other, his brow knit in thought. After a moment, he walked over to the gifts gathered in the lounge and selected a flat box from on top of another larger one. It was also wrapped, but this time in delicate, wedding colored paper. The pattern was of flowers and big bells. The card was tucked into the bow and Vince took it off as he sat on a barstool beside his lover.
"Your turn to read the card," he said, handing it to Stuart.
Slitting the envelope, he took out the card that had a picture of two wedding bands on the front. They were tied together with a strip of ribbon and the rings laid on a well-worn wooden table. The simple image made him smile. Opening the card, he read the neat, handwritten words aloud while Vince peeled the wrapping off the gift.
"`Dear Stuart and Vince, Please display this somewhere in your home where your friends gather. It will be very interesting to see which of them can spot the lion and which of them simply do not see it. Those who are pure of heart may never catch a glimpse of his cold eyes, but those who have spent some time in the dark will always recognize its face. Congratulations and best wishes for all the happiness the world has to offer you. We are so looking forward to the wedding. With love, Reb and Andie.'"
"That is so nice," Vince said, taking the lid off the box in his hand.
Stuart swallowed when his lover took out the large picture frame and held it up. He knew it would be a photograph of that rural painting from the library at Glengarry Castle. Vince looked at the picture closely for a moment, then he turned it around so Stuart could see it. The photo was very clear, almost as though the painting itself had been reduced for the frame. His focus went directly to the cold eyes of the lion hidden in the jumble of frolicking forest animals. Just like Reb had told him, once he'd seen it he could never `unsee' it.
"Where should we put it?" Vince said, turning the frame around and looking at the picture again.
"In here, maybe. Everyone congregates at this bar, anyway. I reckon we could put in the lounge. Or better yet, over the toilet. Everyone will see it in there." When he looked at Vince then, his heart sank slightly.
His boyish lover was staring at the framed photo of the painting with a haunted frown.
Stuart let out a long sigh. "I had the feeling you might be able to see it now," he said.
Vince's fingers came up to the dark image of the lion in the corner of the picture. He touched the creature's cold eyes and shivered. "It's horrible, isn't it?"
"Mm."
"Do you suppose that story she told us was true? The one about the artist going mad with grief over her husband's death?"
Stuart considered that for a moment. He recalled the long conversation he had with Reb that day in the hotel library--the way she read his palm and told him he would fall in love only once in his life. The way she told him to protect his relationship because Vince was his soulmate. "I think it's true," he said softly. "It sounds true. I mean, I'd go mad."
Vince looked up with his big blue eyes imploring. "Please, let's not talk about that sort of thing. Not so close to our wedding."
Stuart only smiled.
Looking at the painting again, Vince said "so according to Reb, I'm no longer pure of heart since I can see the lion now?"
"Apparently," Stuart said, looking away a bit unhappily. "And of course that's my fault. I'm the one dragged you over to the dark side these last few months. When we were Scotland, that was right before all this business with Brian. You were still a good boy before that."
"Brian tipped up the night we came back," Vince mused. "He was just like this." Pointing to the image of the lion in the picture, Vince smiled sadly. "Always there but unseen until it was too late."
"Brian was always there?" Stuart asked curiously, not sure what Vince meant.
"No, but what he represented was. The . . . test of our relationship. The challenge of something that huge. That . . . dangerous."
Stuart nodded slowly. "Yeah, I suppose." He leaned forward and kissed Vince's warm lips. "But we passed, luv. That's quite something."
Sighing, Vince gave him a sweet smile. "Yeah. That is quite something."
Just as they moved in for another kiss, the phone rang. Smiling at each other, Vince got up to answer it.
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Margaret:
Sitting on the deck overlooking the garden her husband had spent the last six weeks landscaping, Margaret Jones sipped a cup of tea and watched the late afternoon sun dance in the many fragrant flowers around her. She was enjoying a rare quiet moment before the real madness of her son's wedding started in less than an hour.
The rehearsal would be the least of her worries that night. It was the dinner party after that had her anxious. Margaret had always been a consummate hostess, but that night she was apprehensive about the guests. Not because she thought they would misbehave, but because she didn't really know any of them. The guest list for the wedding was relatively small--only fifty people--but she knew only a few of them. It made her sad that her son had such a full life about which she knew so little.
Over the past six months or so, she and Stuart had grown closer but they still had a long way to go. Her son was not the easiest person to understand and it was often difficult for him to open up emotionally. She didn't want to push him for fear he would pull away all together, but she couldn't help wishing they were making better progress.
Still, she was more than pleased that he was happy with Vince. She adored Vince Tyler and couldn't think of anyone she would rather have looking after her boy. And Alfred . . . what a joy that child was to her. She and Romey had become quite close as a result of the time Margaret was spending with the baby. She hoped Stuart would always be there for him.
The back door opened behind her and Clive stuck his head out. She smiled back at him.
"Not broodin', are you?" he said.
"No. Just taking a breather before everything starts. Has the oven timer gone off?"
"Not that I've heard." Clive stepped out onto the deck and sat beside her on the stairs. Looking around, he surveyed the garden speculatively like he'd done a million times that week.
"It looks lovely," she said, nudging his shoulder gently with her own. "You've got quite the green thumb."
"Ah," he said dismissively. "It's all right."
She smiled to herself, knowing her husband was completely chuffed with his work. "Christ," she said. "All this wedding business is making me . . ."
"Feel old?" he offered playfully.
"Cheeky sod. No, it's not making me feel old."
"Ah, yes it is, Margie. I know you." Clive put his arm around his wife's shoulders and gave her a quick hug. "He's happy, you know."
"I know. And I'm so glad of that." She rested her forehead on her husband's chin and sighed. "I reckon we couldn't ask for any more."
"I reckon not," he agreed.
The oven timer startled them both and they laughed softly to each other.
"Well, I guess that's it," she said. "Here we go."
Clive stood up and held out his hand for his wife. They walked into the house together and slid the glass door closed, leaving the garden momentarily quiet.
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