"Mama, come look!" A nine year old with a honey brown ponytail called out from the balcony overlooking Central Park. She propped open the heavy glass door with one hand and shoved her sweaty bangs away from her face with the other.
Just entering the penthouse from the hallway, CC Babcock set her briefcase down on the leather sofa and held up a finger to silence the girl. "Yes, David, I agree—the set still needs work." She supported her phone between her ear and her shoulder as she stepped out of her slingbacks, and smiled in her daughter's direction just in time to see the door slam, rattling the blinds that covered it.
CC frowned and looked around to see where Niles might be. He was nowhere in sight. Grimly, she said, "Listen, I'll call you back later this evening," and disconnected the call, tossing her mobile beside the briefcase.
Stepping out onto the balcony, she addressed her daughter, neither of them noticing that their scowls matched exactly. "Young lady, we do not slam doors."
The girl didn't respond, but her expression grew stormier.
"Stella Babcock, did you hear me?" CC spoke sternly.
Squinting, the child looked up. "Yes." Stella knew better than to speak in a hateful tone to her mother, but she didn't feel like being polite, either.
"Please don't slam the door. Where is your father?" CC walked to the edge of the balcony, lifting a hand to rest on top of the girl's head as they both shifted in tandem to look out over the city. Most of the tension drained out of Stella at her mother's touch, and the child subconsciously leaned into her.
"He had to go to work earlier."
CC moved her hand and glanced down at her daughter, alarmed. "When? He didn't leave you here alone, did he?"
Stella squirmed and nudged her head against her mother's waist. "Yes?" She answered, the question mark implicit in her tone.
CC held back a grin. "In addition to not slamming doors, we also try not to fib. Are you supposed to be down the hall with Mrs. Kline?" She knelt to look her daughter in the eye.
Dramatic to a fault, Stella flung herself onto a chaise longue and released a deep sigh. "She's so boring, Mama, she fell asleep watching a soap opera, and before that, she wouldn't let me go out onto her balcony."
Where her daughter had gained an enjoyment of the outdoors, CC did not know, but all summer long, she divided her free time between begging to go to the park and sitting contentedly on the balcony, reading, drawing, listening to music, and any number of other things CC preferred doing in the comfort of the air conditioned penthouse.
"So you left her sleeping and used your key to come home? Baby, it's not safe for a little girl to be home alone. That's why we ask Mrs. Kline to keep an eye on you when your father and I have to work." CC sat down on a chaise beside Stella, facing her.
"I am not a baby or a little girl," she said scornfully. "And besides, how could she keep an eye on me? She was asleep!"
CC refrained from acknowledging that the child did have a point. "Perhaps we need to look into hiring a part-time nanny, now that Papa is busier with work," she mused aloud.
Stella shrugged. "Mama, you missed what I wanted to show you."
Peeling her linen blazer from her body, CC asked, "What did you want to show me?" She sighed in relief as she draped the garment over a nearby table. Her thin camisole was much more comfortable in the late afternoon heat that enveloped the city, shimmering in waves off the asphalt.
"There was this amazing cloud," Stella explained. "It looked just like your dog Chester, but you missed it and now it's gone." Her lips twisted into a pout. Stella had been fixated on Chester for weeks, since finding a dusty photo album with a few shots of the Pomeranian.
CC smiled at the familiar expression on her daughter's face. "I'm sorry I missed the cloud, darling. He was really a terrible dog," she said fondly. "He didn't like me a bit."
"But he liked Papa, didn't he?" Stella had heard all the stories already, some of them rather embellished by Niles.
"Well," CC allowed, "he only snarled at him half the time." She swung her legs up onto her lounge chair and slid her skirt up as far as propriety allowed, relaxing for the first time all day.
Stella mimicked her movements, watching her mother slyly to see if she noticed. She did, and the two exchanged identical grins before turning and closing their eyes against the sun's rays. "But if I had a dog, he would like me, right? He wouldn't growl at me."
CC cocked one eye towards Stella. "Maybe. I'm sure there's no grumpier dog than Chester was, so you'd probably be safe. But wouldn't you rather have a nice cat?"
This was the first sign of any parental acquiescence at all regarding a potential pet, and their shared moment of relaxation was short-lived. Stella bounded off her chair and threw herself into her mother's lap. "Oh, Mama, could I?"
CC groaned as she wrapped her arms around the girl, who seemed to be getting bigger every day. "We'll talk it over with Papa at dinner, shall we? Maybe you should do some research about how to care for a cat so you can present a strong argument," she suggested. And let me loll here in the sun for just five more minutes, she added silently. Perhaps her daughter was onto something with her love of the balcony.
"You're right!" Stella said excitedly, and scrambled down. "I'll be in my room."
CC hummed her agreement without opening her eyes, and shortly after her daughter closed the door (carefully, CC noted), she glanced around and then nimbly slipped her pantyhose off and tucked them into a pocket of her blazer. Finally entirely comfortable in spite of the warmth, she closed her eyes once more and resolved to go inside and finish the discussion with her play's director before dinner.
"Trying to rack up another public indecency citation, Babcock?"
Niles's question awoke her from her light doze, and she couldn't suppress her grin. "You know as well as I do that the nice officer dropped all charges," she said, as she brought her hand up to trace the hot skin above her camisole. She kept her eyes on Niles as he circled her chair to stand in front of her.
"Be that," Niles swallowed audibly, and CC's eyes flashed victoriously. "As it may, wouldn't you rather come inside where it's cool? Ice queens don't tend to fare well in the sun."
"Well," she drawled, "I think I'm beginning to see the positive side of the heat." Sultry-voiced, she let her gaze drift down deliberately toward the front of his slacks.
Niles dragged a hand across his face to wipe off the perspiration. "Wicked woman," was all he managed to say as he sank down beside her on her chaise.
CC scooted over, giving him room. "You say that all the time, but I don't see you trying to escape." She moved her hand to his thigh and let it linger there. Her touch burned him through the fabric.
"Too right," Niles responded, tangling his hand in the back of her hair, where it had gone damp from the humidity of the afternoon.
Just before claiming her mouth, Niles paused and smiled at her. It was a sweeter expression than she was accustomed to from him, and she raised an eyebrow before leaning forward and initiating the kiss. His lips were still cool from, she was certain, the frigid temperature at which he kept his Jag, and the chill of the kiss made her shiver in the most delightful way.
Niles had just slid his fingers under CC's camisole when the balcony door opened and their daughter exclaimed, "Papa, you're home! We have to talk, Mama said!" She barely even noticed their position, because she had learned long ago that if her parents were in the same room together, if they weren't fighting, they'd be touching each other. She was just glad they weren't doing it where they could be seen by her friends, because that had happened, mortifyingly, more than once.
They both closed their eyes briefly, and CC sighed against Niles's mouth, clenching her fingers around his thigh.
"Let's talk over dinner, sweetheart; I brought home food," Niles said to Stella. "Run and wash up." He held his hand steady. He watched his daughter go back inside the penthouse, then quickly tweaked CC's nipple through the satin of her bra before standing and adjusting his trousers.
"No fair," she said weakly, pulling her top back into place and rising as well, shifting her skirt back down over her thighs.
He smirked at her and took her hand. "What's this conversation going to be about?"
"I might have mentioned the possibility of getting a cat."
He let his jaw drop in mock amazement. "I knew Chester wasn't just a fluke. You actually prefer churlish animals, don't you?"
"There is one old mongrel in particular I continue to keep around," she agreed with him. "I often ask myself why." She scratched her chin in feigned puzzlement.
He opened the door and gestured for her to precede him into the room. After she'd crossed the threshold, he pulled her by the hand and spun her into his arms. "I know why. It's because he has such a big—"
"Niles," she interrupted, tilting her head towards the dining table, semi-scandalized at what he was about to say in front of their daughter. Stella sat as tall as she could manage, a stack of papers in front of her.
"Restaurant," Niles finished with a wink. "With delectable leftovers when Papa doesn't feel like making dinner."
"And an excellent wine list for when Papa drives Mama to the bottle," CC added, reaching for the corkscrew to open the chilled chardonnay he had brought.
As Niles plated their meal, he glanced over at Stella. Her legs didn't quite reach the floor yet, and she was swinging them as she shuffled her papers studiously. She propped her chin on her right hand and added notes to the document with her left, using CC's favorite red pen.
"My god," he breathed so only CC could hear. "She's you in miniature."
"Just now realizing what you're going to be dealing with for the next thirty years or so?" She asked, amused.
"The blink of an eye," he responded, and wrapped his arm around her waist to pull her closer to him.
CC had just touched her cheek to his when Stella looked up. Deciding that she had been quite patient enough, their daughter said, "Papa, it all started when I saw a wonderful cloud..."
THE END
