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ladyofavalon77) wrote2006-12-11 08:26 pm
I hate Mondays :(
So there really isn't much to report...I already talked about the piece of fan fiction I wrote yesterday. I'm out of my one shots for Martha and Charles so this means I will start posting "If I Should Lose You" piece by piece unless I get "Culinary Differences" finished in time. It has Charles in the kitchen and he's not half bad. I think I see him as a chef because he's not a typically macho guy and he looks like he would do good with the precise measurements and enjoy that what he does gets a definite result each time. And for some reason, I just don't see Martha cooking...maybe because she's so unstable. Anyways, this story would be after she's made a mess of the kitchen and he's cleaning up so they can have dinner and as they prepare the meal together, they grow closer together until the final dessert *wiggles eyebrows suggestively* Let's just say it ends with Charles closing the bedroom doors for some privacy. *Giggles* And no it won't be for five minutes like in Season Five *rolls eyes* One day people! ONE DAY!!! And they have to make a big deal of it. Ok, ok, I'm fine :) Really!!
I’ll Be Home For Christmas
It had been a few months after the divorce and Martha Logan was still getting used to living on her own. Though the house she was living in right now was quite small compared to the estates she used to call home, it still felt quite empty…like it was missing something…or someone. Shaking her head to clear her thoughts once more, she resumed her decorating of the small Christmas tree she had just purchased that day. The lights were new, the ornaments were new, and the tree was new. A symbolic gesture of starting her life anew…she had decided that she didn’t want anything that would remind her of what she and Charles had shared for the last twenty years. The memories were just too painful in light of what had happened on that one fateful day at the airfield. For now, she would concentrate on getting her life back together…and let the past stay in the past.
Bing Crosby’s rich voice filled the room as the radio played “White Christmas” and she hummed along to the wonderful song she had loved even as a little girl. No matter what state her current life was in she was determined to be happy. It wasn’t long before she had put the lights up and was working on filling in the empty spaces with some bright ornaments before she heard the familiar ring of the doorbell. Now who could be calling on her this close to Christmas? The Secret Service had strict orders to keep Charles away from the premises…should he decide to make an appearance. She didn’t think he would but she wanted to have her bases covered just in case.
As she walked to the door, Martha tried to think of anyone else who knew of her location. It could just be carolers making the rounds in the neighborhood but some sixth sense told it was someone she knew. Maybe Mike? She had forwarded her address to him before they had parted ways and he did call once a week to check up on her. There was one person she hoped it could be…but could she really be that lucky? They had left each other with the understanding that it would be best to stay out of contact…for both his protection and hers. However, the threat was now over…what was he waiting for?
Taking a deep breath, she put on her most welcoming smile and opened the door to find…a shivering messenger boy with a cute little cap and a very short coat handing her an eggshell white envelope between shivering fingers. Inviting him into the house to warm up, she took him into her kitchen for a quick cup of hot chocolate while she opened the mysterious envelope. The penmanship on the front was immaculate and looked vaguely familiar. Could it really be from Aaron? Her fingers trembled ever so slightly as she slit it open and pulled out a simple note written on stationary that matched the expensive envelope that it had arrived in: Would you do me the honor of having dinner at Bella Notte? A Friend. P.S. Be sure to bring this note.
“Will you be sending a reply, ma’am? He seemed quite anxious to see what your answer would be,” the little boy asked, his lips returning to a more normal color as he held the warm mug of hot chocolate in his hands.
“He did?” she asked, an unexpected smile reaching her lips as she realized how much she had missed him these last few months. And now this note…of course, she would meet him. It looked like she wouldn’t have to spend Christmas alone after all. “Well, I know what my answer will be but can you deliver an additional message?”
“Of course, ma’am,” he replied, a little uncomfortable with this new request but determined to do his job. “What would like me to say?”
“Tell him…” she began as she searched for just the right words and smiled again as she found them. “Tell him that my answer is yes. It’s always been yes and I wouldn’t miss this for the world. Can you tell him that?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he replied, still uncomfortable about being delivering such an emotional message as he hurried out of the house and back to the person who sent him…the person she would have dinner with tonight. Suddenly everything seemed brighter and warmer than it had a few minutes ago. She should have known that he wouldn’t have forgotten about her…she should have trusted him. However, she did have a thing or two to say about his timing but that would wait until tonight…during dinner. And she knew exactly what she wanted to wear.
A few hours later, the Secret Service had dropped her off outside the well known Italian restaurant called Bella Notte. She had always wanted to eat here but Charles’ busy schedule had never allowed it. Also the dining area was not large enough to hold the press and photographers he would have wanted to bring in to show them having a quiet romantic dinner alone when it would have been anything but that. However, that life was behind her…now she was just a woman meeting a man for dinner…no fanfare, no press, no false smiles. She was happier than she had been in weeks…months really.
Walking up to the stern looking maitre d', Martha Logan clutched the collar of her heavy winter coat with one hand while holding on to her evening bag with her other hand, the long skirts of her dark blue silk dress brushing her ankles as she approached. The place was lit up like a Christmas tree, twinkling white lights adorned the trees outside and a dark red canopy sheltered patrons as they gave their names for reservations that were put in place months in advance. Bella Notte prided itself on its posh clientele, its delicious cuisine, and its ever growing reservation list due to the wonderful atmosphere and excellent service the place provided. As she waited for the couple ahead to give their name, Martha took some time to admire the Italian marble columns, the frescoes adorning the walls, and the lovely mosaics on the floor. Overflowing green ferns surrounding delicate marble fountains were scattered here and there as if the diners inside had found themselves transported to Florence, Italy instead of Boston, Massachusetts. The twinkling white lights from outside had found their way indoors as they entwined themselves around the marble columns below and the ceiling above in order to give off the appearance of a perfect starlit evening. It was both beautiful and romantic. The perfect place for them to meet. How did he know that she had always wanted to visit Italy?
“Madam?” the snooty voice of the maitre d’ interrupted her thoughts and she turned to face him. “Can I help you?”
“Yes…I’m here to see…” she started to tell him and found herself smiling again as she remembered the note and handed it to the somber little man with the pencil thin mustache. “…A friend.”
At the sight of the invitation, his eyes lit up and a small smile appeared on his normally emotionless face. “Very good, madam. He’s been expecting you.”
“He has?” she whispered out loud, both surprised and pleased at this unexpected revelation. “Can you tell me when this reservation was exactly placed?”
“Let me see…” the thin, little man replied, running a well manicured hand over his guest list. “Ah, here it is…six months ago…June 22nd.”
“The date of my divorce…how did he know…” she wondered out loud, causing the maitre d’ to frown in confusion.
“What was that, madam?” he finally ask out loud, after all he had other guests he needed to get seated.
“Nothing really,” she told him with a small laugh before turning on the smile that had gotten her through more than one political campaign. “Can you show me to my table now?”
“Of course.” With a snap of his fingers, a young handsome waiter appeared. “Please escort the lady to the private dining room, Andrea.”
And with a quick nod of his head, she was ushered inside as he led her to the back of the restaurant where it was more private…and romantic. It was uncanny how well Aaron knew her…from the fact that she had always wanted to eat here to the knowledge that she hated eating with a large crowd of people so he had reserved a private room just for the two of them to meet. This was almost too good to be true…he was almost too good to be true.
As they rounded the corner, her heart stopped for a moment at the sight of the white clothed table with a setting for two, the crystal wine glasses sparkling in the warm glow of candlelight. Beyond the glass veranda doors, she could see the lake surrounded by houses and trees lit up with Christmas lights. Even the balcony outside twinkled with strings of white diamond lights entwined around the pillars. The setting could not have been more perfect if she had planned it herself. There was just one thing missing…the man she had wanted to see for so long…Mr. Aaron Pierce. Where was he? The maitre d’ had said he had been waiting for her
“Excuse me,” she suddenly asked, turning around to address the waiter who had taken her coat before leaving the room. “Do you know where the man is that I was supposed to meet?”
“Yes, madam. He stepped outside for a minute. There was an urgent phone call he needed to take.”
“Oh,” she replied softly, trying to mask her disappointment but failing miserably as she slowly took a seat at the empty table. “Thank you.”
Reaching into her purse for her compact, Martha checked her makeup one more time while fluffing out the soft golden curls that framed her face. Now that she was no longer the First Lady, she had decided to try a more daring, modern hairstyle that highlighted her blue eyes while taking advantage of her thick blonde hair. She hoped he would like the new style but deep down she knew he had always thought she was beautiful…whether it was first thing in the morning after just waking up or when she had emerged from Evelyn’s tender care for a presidential ball. Unlike Charles, physical appearances had never mattered to Aaron. He didn’t love her because he thought she was attractive…he loved her because he knew she possessed an inward beauty that would neither fade nor age with time. Nevertheless, she hoped the daring neckline of her current gown might make his heart skip a beat or two. Just the idea of upsetting his normally implacable demeanor would amuse her to no end.
The sound of muffled male voices reached her ears and she quickly closed the compact and put it back in her purse, her fingers fiddling with the table cloth a moment as she anticipated his return. This was it…the moment she had been waiting for all these months. The moment she could finally greet him as an unmarried woman free to make her own decisions…her own choices. Oh, it had taken a long time to reach this point…but now the wait was over. She could finally act on those feelings she had discovered on that day at the presidential retreat…the day she had fallen in love with Aaron.
The soft tread of his footsteps approaching gave her courage and she quickly rose from her seat to greet him. The words she had been longing to say since the moment they parted suddenly disappeared as she realized that the man before her wasn’t Aaron Pierce. The man standing before her was none other than Mike Novick. The words that now entered her mind were a far cry from what she originally intended to say.
“Mike…” she faltered, summoning a smile she knew was quite weak but not caring in the slightest. “What are you doing here?”
“It’s good to see you too, Martha,” he replied smoothly as they awkwardly embraced. “Didn’t you get my note?”
“Your…note…” she repeated, still in a daze that she could be so wrong about who had sent the invitation. “The one that came this afternoon?”
“Of course. Who did you think sent it?” he asked her, playing the innocent as he took the napkin off the table and placed it in his lap. “Were you expecting someone else?”
“I thought…I wanted…It’s just that this is all so sudden, Mike. I mean I just talked to you yesterday and you didn’t even say anything about dinner,” she stumbled her way through the first excuse she could think of while she tried to ignore the growing pain in her heart. Why had she gotten her hopes up only to have them come crashing back down around her?
“I know,” he responded, eyes twinkling in such a way that she wanted to reach over and strangle him right then and there. “I wanted this to be a surprise. I hope you weren’t disappointed.”
“Me? Disappointed? Of course not!” she played along, emitting a small laugh that sounded fake even to her own ears. “I always look forward to your visits.”
“But you were expecting someone else?”
Pausing a moment to consider her answer, Martha decided honesty really was the best policy here and replied, “Would you think I was a bad person if I said yes?”
At this answer, her friend let out a small chuckle as he shook his head. “Of course not, Martha. It just means you’re an honest person. It’s what I’ve always liked about you.”
“Yes…about that. Is there a special reason for this dinner, Mike? I mean I’ve known you for a long time and romantic dinners are not exactly your forte.”
“There’s many things you don’t know about me, Martha,” he told her in a low voice before adding, “However there is no need to worry on your part. I know your heart lies elsewhere.”
“I guess that‘s pretty obvious at this point,” she replied, taking a drink of water to soothe her suddenly dry throat. “Or am I just that transparent?”
“A little bit of both. I should have warned you beforehand but I thought you would enjoy a little mystery for the holidays. I didn’t mean to disappoint you, Martha.”
“It’s all right,” she assured him, though the disappointment still remained. “I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions so soon. It’s just that…I don’t really have anyone other than you to talk to and I was hoping…he would be thinking of me at this time…like I’m thinking of him…Does that make me a fool, Mike?
“Not at all, Martha. I’m sure he would been here tonight if he could.”
“I wish that were true.”
And before either could say another word, the waiter from before had returned to inform Mr. Novick that he had an urgent call to take on the house phone.
“Would you excuse me, Martha? This might be the Senator I told you about.”
“Of course, Mike. You don’t have to explain anything. I was a politician’s wife for twenty years, you know,” she informed him with a tight smile.
“That I do,” he replied with the same smile before turning around once more. “And Martha?”
“Hmm?”
“Don’t worry. You look absolutely radiant tonight.”
“Why thank you,” she responded out loud before whispering to herself. “But you’re not the one who should be saying it.”
As the minutes passed, Martha found herself thinking about what this night should have been like. Instead of Mike’s stoic face and serious tone of voice, she should have been staring into the warm blue eyes of Aaron Pierce as she spoke to her in that charming Texas accent she loved. Instead of sharing a dinner with an old friend, she should have been growing closer to the man who stole her heart. Why did she always get herself worked up over these things? It only led to heartbreak later.
Suddenly she felt something wet trickle down her cheek and she lifted a hand to brush the errant teardrop away. However, that only succeeded in allowing more to follow, making her reach for her small handbag and the reassuring comfort of a tissue. Furtively searching for something to wipe her eyes with, Martha discovered to her chagrin that she had forgotten to include that particular item when she had been preparing for this evening’s dinner. Snapping the purse closed in frustration, she leaned her head against the palm of her hand, trying to pull herself together. Of all the times for her to have a breakdown. How was she going to explain this to Mike?
As if summoned out of thin air, a gleaming white handkerchief appeared by her side which she gladly accepted, not even looking up to see who had handed it to her. Dabbing at her moist eyes while trying to put on a brave face, Martha tried to smile as she prepared to talk herself out of this awkward situation. However, before she could say a word, the voice she had been longing to hear all evening tenderly whispered in her ear, “Mike was right…You are beautiful tonight.”
“Aaron!” she practically shouted, out of her chair so fast that it took him completely by surprise as she threw her arms around his neck and whispered in his own ear. “You don’t know how much I’ve missed you.”
“Not as much as I’ve missed you,” he told her gently, slowly wrapping his arms around her and discovering to his utter delight that it was a perfect fit. “Will you forgive me for running late?”
“I would forgive you anything right now if you will just hold me in your arms,” she murmured, resting her cheek against his strong shoulder.
“I think that can be arranged,” he informed her, placing his own hand on her head as he held her close. There was no other place he’d rather be.
How long they stood like that she could never say or what they had for dinner she never knew. What Martha did remember was that the next morning she did not wake up alone as her house had finally become a home.
So I hope everyone is having a wonderful holiday and I look forward to the Christmas cards from those of you who sent them. Thanks!
What are you saying, Charles...You're not making sense...
no subject
*giggles*