8: Kiss Like Aunt Megan

Meanwhile Shirley had resumed her conversation with Gregory Marshall.

“Where were we?” she asked jovially.

“We were talking about Donna’s desire for children.”

“Ah, yes. I’ve said all I can on that,” Shirley informed him.

“But-”

“I can’t say anymore.” She really couldn’t because she and Donna had never really spoken about children. She just knew that Donna wanted to complete her family as quickly as possible.

He regarded her for a moment before accepting her word.

“You tell me something,” Shirley said.

“What?”

“Do you think that this sexual attraction and friendship you have with Don could change into something deeper?”

“You mean love?” he mocked gently.

Shirley shrugged. “Maybe.”

Greg smiled. “It’s ok, I won’t shoot you down for saying you believe in love. I just don’t, ok? It’s not for me, but it can be for you as long as you want it. I won’t eat you for it.”

“Pity that.”

Greg burst out laughing and she smiled.

“Ok, love is for me,” she admitted. “It can be for you too, Greg. You and Donna both. Together. Donna needs it and who better to give it to her than her fiancé?”

“Whoa! Slow down, pretty pink pony of hope! No, in fact, please stop.”

Shirley sat back and listened to Greg say, “I feel you’re asking for too much. Being her friend is enough, isn’t it? We already have this camaraderie most married couples don’t even have!”

Donna’s best friend looked at him and he had a strange sensation of déjà vu. Donna used to look at him the same way when she was younger. Like the world was full of roses and candy bars and he should enjoy the treats more.

She took his hand eagerly and said with much conviction, “It’s a start.”

Greg sighed, a bit impatiently. “Well I suggest you forget anything stronger. Does Donna ever mention a need for love or greater closeness?” he asked pointedly.

Shirley’s face fell and she said no.

“Exactly.” Pause. “Now what’s this about sexual attraction?” he asked.

“You haven’t seen the way you look at each other. It’s like a fat kid setting his eyes on a new flavour of ice cream or a freshly baked cake.”

Hungry? He shook his head, amused. “Let’s change the subject.”

So Shirley began asking about what made him design Donna’s dress and that was what they were talking about when Donna approached them and said she was going upstairs to lie down.

“I can take you home,” they both offered her.

She pinned them both with an amused look. “You cannot. The night is young- give me thirty minutes then come and get me.”

She turned on her heel and literally glided through the crowd, stopping occasionally to speak to people.

Greg left Shirley to get a plate of hors d’oeuvres and came face to face with Luke Darcy.

“Hello, Darcy,” he said politely.

“Greg. Congratulations on your engagement,” Luke bit out. “May I please speak with you for a moment?”

“Someone is waiting for me.”

“Briefly.”

With a sigh, Greg randomly instructed the caterer to place things on a plate and deliver it to Shirley. Then he followed Luke aside.

Greg spoke first. “Before you begin, thank you by the way, for your congratulations.”

“Do you love her?” came the response.

He thought better than to be frank with this man who was a good five years younger than himself. So he said, “In my own way.”

“Which means you love what? Her body?” Luke said, affronted. “You make me sick!”

“Please don’t raise your voice at me in my father’s house,” Greg said unmoved.

“I love her,” Luke said with quiet rage.

“Well, she’s marrying me.” With that he began to walk away.

Luke grabbed his arm quite fiercely. “Marshall!”

Greg turned slowly, his eyes as cold and unyielding as metal. He glanced at the man’s face and then pointedly at his captive arm.

But Luke didn’t let go.

“What?” Greg’s voice did more than just hint that the delay better be worth it.

Luke held onto his nerve long enough to say, “Take care of her.”

Greg’s almost predatory smile emerged. “I will.”

He gave Donna an extra fifteen minutes before he left a billiards game to fetch her. He searched all eight guest bedrooms before reaching his old bedroom.

Opening the door quietly, he spotted a form on the bed and he slipped inside and closed the door behind him.

She had taken her dress off and put it over the back of a chair.

Crouching by the bedside, he shook her gently. “D, wake up. Nap time’s over.”

“Go ‘way,” she mumbled, kicking out irritably at the sheets, unintentionally pulling them down.

She had less on than last time she had been in his bed. No French lace, boy-cut knickers and matching bra tonight. Just a black g-string that even a sumo wrestler wouldn’t wear.

He tried to wake her again, injecting humour into his tone.

“Are you still sleeping or was that a blatantly sexual invitation?”

Donna groaned and rolled over onto her stomach, turning her face away.

“You want me to spank you?” he said in a shocked voice. Sitting on the side of the bed, he leaned over and murmured suggestively in her ear. “Not in my parents’ house D, but when we get back to my place I’d be happy to oblige.”

“Shut up Marshall. I’m up.”

He got off the bed with a chuckle.

She sat up and shook her head. “You talk a lot of smack.”

“Did I mention this is sort of part of my fantasy?” he said, picking up a dustless basketball he hadn’t used in years. “Only the dress ends up on the floor. And the lady who was wearing it isn’t in my bed sleeping.”

Donna laughed. “Sorry I ruined it.”

“Not at all,” he said slowly, “I’m enjoying the view.”

She stretched and got off the bed, as uninhibited as she had been in her college days as a model for the art class or a model for other fashion majors. “Do you have a brush?”

He went to the adjoining bathroom and returned with a brush. She sat down on the chair and began brushing her hair through. Once she was done, she piled the hair on top of her head.

“Please put your dress back on.”

Donna’s head turned to her right, where Greg was standing, just a few yards off.

“I am but a man of flesh and blood. It’s all heating up because there is something erotic about a naked woman brushing her hair.”

“At this point in your little stint of celibacy you’d find an old maid mopping the floor erotic- so long she smiled at you or licked her lips.”

“You may be right,” he said, feigning misery.

Donna chuckled and reached for her dress.

It was very late when the last guest had gone home and Donna and Greg said goodnight to Amber and Grant Marshall.

“Are you sure you don’t want to spend the night?” Amber asked them.

“Thanks Mom, but we both have to work in the morning and my stuff is at home.”

Donna kissed them both and Greg led her to the car.

Later on that fateful morning after the party, Donna got a phone call from her oldest great aunt, Beth.

“Aunt Beth, how are you?” Donna asked staring at a half-finished design, pencil in hand.

Shirley was also in Donna’s office and she decided to stay and listen to her friend’s side of the conversation, knowing Beth Quinton was a refreshing character.

On a fresh piece of paper, Donna drew hair on a figure.

“Yes,” she said, “Greg Marshall proposed last night.”

She drew big innocent eyes on the face. Picked up a blue pencil to colour them.

“What did I say? I said yes.”

She changed the colour of the pencil and drew a pink gingham frock and cute pink socks on her adult figure.

Shirley’s eyes widened.

“Yes, Aunt Beth, I know he was engaged to Diana- after all she is my sister.”

The claws are coming out, thought Shirley, watching her friend’s face darken.

Donna spoke again as she drew a crucifix in the hand of the girl-woman. “No, I don’t love him that way.” Pause. “Yes, I know I grew up like his sister but that was a good decade ago when I barely had b-” she bit her tongue and Shirley stifled a laugh. Donna winked at her.

Then she rolled her eyes at the ceiling. “Our marriage will not be haunted by Di, Aunt Bebe. I’m not repeating everything you say!” she protested. Deftly she put her on speaker phone.

Shirley could hear the age in Beth’s voice.

“Yes, you are! Anyway, have you slept with him?”

Shirley’s jaw hung open.

“No!” Donna continued to draw.

“Well, you youngsters disregard chastity. Are you planning on having children, Donna Leanne?”

“Yes, Aunt Beth. I want them very much.”

“Does he?”

“Yes.”

“Hm!”

At that moment, her office door opened and Greg appeared.

Donna beckoned him over, with a finger to her lips. He sat down next to Shirley just as Aunt Beth spoke again.

“Does he respect you?”

Greg pointed to the phone and mouthed ‘who’s that?’.

“Well, Aunt Beth, why don’t you ask him?”

Greg shook his head vigorously.

“Is he there with you?”

“He just walked in,” Donna said.

“Then give him the phone!”

Greg picked up the received and took it off speaker phone.

Donna stuck out her tongue. Shirley whispered, “Spoilsport.”

“Hello.” Pause. “Yes, this is Greg Marshall. How are you ma’am? I’m fine thank you.”

He looked at Donna. “Yes, I do respect her. Yes, ma’am.” Another pause. “Diana? No.”

Donna’s chocolate brown eyes left Greg’s grey ones and she continued to draw.

“Blame me? Why should she, ma’am?”

Greg’s eyes found themselves glued to the motion of Donna’s hand. The longer he spoke to Great Aunt Beth, the faster it moved.

As he tried to follow what the elderly woman was saying, it became a distraction to observe the hand drawing. Finally his hand reached out and stilled it. He took the piece of paper and almost burst out laughing.

The girl woman had acquired a spiky tail and two horns plus a small companion with a cherubic face in a biker jacket. He turned the paper face down on the table top and continued talking to the old woman on the telephone.

“Yes, of course,” he laughed a few minutes later. “I will. Bye now.”

He hung up the phone. “What a charming old woman- I remember meeting her at my last engagement party,” he said with a grin. “How old is she now?”

“Seventy-nine.” Pause. “What did she say to you?”

“That I should learn to love you- flaws and all.”

“I don’t have any flaws,” she sniffed.

Shirley coughed. Donna sent her a look that failed completely to intimidate her.

Turning back to Greg, Donna asked, “What brings you here?”

“A few things- I was in the area so I figured in person will do. First and least important is your friend Luke.”

“Luke Darcy? What has he done?”

“Oh, he only phoned my office and asked if someone else could handle their construction account.”

“You’re kidding.”

“I wish I were. He confronted me last night, too. He actually put his hands on me.” There was distaste written all over his face.

Donna eyes widened as she and Shirley laughed.

“Anyway,” he continued, “if you talk to him and tell him you actually want to marry me, maybe he’ll stop this childish behaviour.”

Donna nodded. “What did you say to him last night?”

Greg told her and she smiled. “Clever.”

“Thank you. Number two on reasons for coming to see my lovely fiancé is the date for the wedding.”

“Right. I don’t want a winter wedding,” she said without further consideration.

“Ok,” Greg said slowly, “so some time in spring?”

“Unless,” Shirley put in, “you have the wedding down south.”

“Where it doesn’t snow!” Donna caught on.

“How in the world would we transport our guests ‘down south’? Would we be footing the bill?”

“We could hire one commercial plane and take everyone at once, probably get a discount if we use Daddy’s airline,” Donna said, warming up to the idea.

She meant the airline in which Bob Quinton had a deciding number of shares. Maybe he would give it as part of his wedding gift?

Greg was still frowning.

“Oh come on, handsome,” Shirley said. “It’s not like you’d be paying for much anyway and Donna only gets one wedding so I am sure Uncle Bob won’t mind.”

She had a point there. Donna’s parents had insisted on taking care of the wedding costs as it would have been done with a traditional wedding.

“Think about it,” Donna said now. “The sooner I get pregnant the sooner you can breathe easy.”

He was quiet for a while. It felt like the ring on her finger was a noose around his neck but he knew- and she did too- that there was no turning back. The sooner the better was pretty accurate.

The two ladies just sat there silently, watching him struggle with himself. They didn’t know he had been struggling this way since his father had presented the codicil to him but they could see what the marriage arrangements were doing to him now.

“So sometime in December or January?” Greg finally asked.

The women nodded.

“Fine. Donna, once you and your parents come up with a date, we can get the ball rolling.” Pause. “The third reason for coming to see you is our getaway trip at the end of the month.”

“Ooh,” Shirley said, thinking at the same time he must know some of the most romantic spots in the world. What with all his rumoured experience when it came to wooing women and whisking them off to vacation spots.

It was Donna’s turn to not look keen.

“Trust me, you’ll be relieved. Weddings are stressful- I remember trying to plan my first one,” he said wryly. “It’ll be worse this time around with Marie and the press all in our business. I just want to sort out the details now because I know you people book in seasons. So clear the last two weeks of November Miss Quinton.”

“Will do, Mr. Marshall. Anything else?”

“Two things.” He glanced at the third person in the room. “The prenupt and your house.”

“Ah.” This is when the reality of the situation starts setting in.

“My lawyers are free tomorrow to draft something. Can you contact yours?”

She picked up the phone promptly and called them directly. She spoke for a little bit, listened then said, “Tomorrow is fine? Great. What time? Eleven o’clock,” she sent an inquiring look at Greg, who nodded. “Fine. Alright. Bye Josh. Thanks.”

Replacing the receiver, she sat back. “Now, Mr. Marshall let’s talk about my house.”

Shirley excused herself. “Some of us actually have to work to get paid,” she joked.