CHAPTER SIXTY-SIX

"Don't worry, I'll be careful. Really I will, Clark. Please trust me."

As much as Louisa wanted to move in with me, she was beyond paranoid when it came to transporting Bee and Honey late that afternoon.

"Just be really, really, extra careful, Will. Ok? Like extra, extra careful!" I could read the hesitation and apprehension on her face, her eyebrows furrowed expecting the worst – an accidental slip down the stairs, tripping over my own two feet on a patch of carpet that had worn or bubbled and lifted due to age and sun damage, hitting a pothole on the drive, anything at all that could result in the damage of her priceless objects. They were irreplaceable to her.

She wouldn't hear of boxing her most treasured items up for some movers who neither knew nor cared about their place in film history or the sentimentality both machines represented of her friendship with the woman who sewed the costumes Audrey Hepburn wore in My Fair Lady and who taught her textile arts and left them in Louisa's capable hands after she was gone. How was that for a vote of confidence in one's skills? To learn one's craft on such machines with a rich history then inherit them! "No, no. Absolutely not. You'll have to carry and drive them to the stables yourself, Will. Only you."

Using her proper name to emphasize the seriousness with which I took my task, I set about to ease her mind. "I know what these mean to you, Louisa." My effort to convey that understanding of how much Bee and Honey meant to her had restored her confidence in me instantaneously. Her body relaxed and a smile curled on her lips. "Ok," she murmured, looking up at me and shaking her head. I leaned in to place a gentle kiss upon her lips and reiterated my commitment to seeing them safely to our new home. "I'll take great care."

Her smile, of course, didn't last too long, and the minute I picked up Bee her anxiety returned. She winced and gritted her teeth looking like she was in agony from a nasty cut on her finger. "I got her, Clark. Just get the doors." Suffice it to say that both Bee and Honey successfully got to their destinations without a hitch, not a scratch not a dent. And Louisa was relieved. "The rest is a breeze," she exhaled once I set them down on a soft blanket in her new studio and she examined them with great scrutiny. "At least the moving part. Telling Thomas … well, that's a different story. That's going to be hard," she sighed, lifting her shoulders and smiling weakly trying to convince herself. Louisa insisted that she not Treena tell Thomas the news herself after school. The plan was to take him out for pizza and to give him a tour of the stables where we had hoped he would spend a lot of time with us. "He'll be ok, Clark. We'll make this work. You'll see."

The day began on a high note. Despite only a few hours of sleep, I awoke that very morning amazingly refreshed with a brilliant plan, a foolproof plan to streamline Louisa's packing woes and move, and to make it as smooth and easy as possible. Boxes. Lots and lots of boxes, labeled for each drawer or piece of furniture or storage cabinet that lined the attic walls. And pictures. Take lots and lots of pictures. Make use of my iPhone I thought. That way she could easily set everything back up exactly the way she had had it. To say the least she was impressed. "Takes all the guess work and stress out of it I guess. But what are we supposed to do with all those boxes afterwards? I mean that's a lot of boxes, Will, even collapsed!" No, she was right. I hadn't thought that far ahead, but thinking on my feet I had an equally brilliant solution. "We'll give some to your mum's church for their food donations, and the rest we'll recycle their use and offer them to the shops relocating to Main Street gratis to facilitate their relocation."

Speaking of pictures, although Running Man's were beyond disconcerting, and even more worrisome that they were posted without our permission, they had proven one thing – Louisa and I were in love. I felt bad for about half a millisecond after doing it, but I couldn't resist snapping a pic of Louisa first thing this morning. That beautiful image of her snuggling against my chest, sleeping so soundly and so softly with a peaceful smile on her face! But it was the little drool droplets that continued to fall from her gorgeous lips and moisten my skin that I had most wanted to capture. She was flawless to me.

When I showed Louisa the photo after taking a few pics of her collections of apothecary jars filled with shells and seaside lanterns to assist with the move, she gasped! "Oh God, Will! What did you do?! I'm drooling all over you! I look terrible!"

"No, no. Not at all! See your lovely smile? I couldn't resist," I argued, yammering on, trying desperately to defend my photo. "You look beautiful, Clark! I had to. Really I did!" But alas she wasn't buying it. She listened intently with her lips pursed bobbing her head the entire time I spoke. "It's the honest truth, Clark. I swear."

"Drooling?"

"Yes! Drooling."

I could see the wheels turning in her head. She puckered her lips, and with a glimmer in her eye she smiled coyly. I knew I was in for it, and my heart rate sped up.

"Sooooo …," Louisa sang out challenging me, questioning my motives in her flirty voice that drove me wild. "What um do you plan on doing with this picture?" She waited impatiently for my answer. She crossed her arms and tapped her foot, and even when she raised her eyes at me gesturing for a reply I could only smirk. Flabbergasted by my non response, she recovered quickly letting out a resounding, "hmmmm?" as she playfully poked at my chest and backed me up until I fell backwards onto her bed.

She was downright giddy and climbed slowly on top of me so that we were staring into each other's eyes. "Am I going to find my image plastered across your social media too?" she mocked with a devilish grin upon her face.

"God no, Clark!" I sarcastically belted out, amused by her reference to Running Man. "You and I have had enough of that, haven't we?!"

"We have! We certainly have!" she cooed.

God, she was seductive. I loved when she was frisky, and I felt myself become excited, very excited. I held her close, my hands caressing her back, up and down, coming to rest on her backside and pressing her firmly against me. She wore those little gray capris joggers and that asymmetrical gray sweatshirt with gold heart, the one that hung off her shoulder, and the only thing I wanted was to remove every last piece of clothing from her body.

She blushed as if she read my dirty mind and playfully carried on.

"Hmm .. let's see. Holding on to it for revenge porn, are you now? You know if … if there comes a day," she lowered her voice, "That … you know … we break .. we're not … you know … together anymore?"

"Shhhh!" I whispered shaking my head repeatedly." Never. Never ever. Don't even think such things!"

"No?" she flirted, shaking her head.

"Nope, just not going to let it happen, Clark!" My hands gravitated up her sweatshirt as I massaged her bra strap as she giggled.

She was silly now with a bold smile plastered across her face. "Maybe I should place a towel under my face next time … on your chest, you know … to catch the drool?"

"Don't you dare, Clark! I love your drool!"

"Ewwwwww!" she cringed, hooting and hawing! "I think you may be the only one! I don't even like my drool!"

I erupted into a fit of laughter watching her reaction. I adored her, her drool and hearts and bees and 1980 tunes and all. One thing I was certain of – I never witnessed any such intimacy, any such playfulness between my mum and dad like that between me and Louisa. They were prim and proper and showed little to no affection for one another outside of a cold kiss or peck on the cheek. There wasn't even any warmth when he called her darling or opened doors for her. Rules of society and manners called on them to play their parts, and play their roles they did. It was on rare occasion I felt empathy towards my parents, but this was one of these times. I didn't want their relationship or their life; I just wanted Louisa. I had lived a good life … a great life … but there was a difference between a good life filled with opportunity and entertainment and having goodness in your life. Louisa was my yin to my yang and vice versa. We brought all the missing pieces together like Munch's The Kiss, the sketch I couldn't take my eyes off at the MET last time I was in New York.

"You know, Clark," I whispered licking my lips," I couldn't live without you."

"Oh, I know, Will! Me neither. I still feel SOOOOO stupid for….,"she admitted with an embarassed frown, beating herself up again over believing my mum and her lies. I cut her off as soon as I realized where she was going with this.

"Clark, shhhhhh. No more talk of my mum." I drew her lips to mine and into a deep and passionate kiss, her body straddling mine as I ran my hands through her long silky hair. We shut the world out, so lost in one another that we neither heard the sounds of incoming texts nor the clicking footsteps ascending the staircase to Louisa's attic.

Treena. Hair coifed in a low bun at the nape of her neck. Tailored black pinstripe pantsuit. Shiny red heels that looked remarkably like Louisa's. I knew I was forgetting something, but I was just so focused on the move and Louisa always a major distraction for me … well I was a weak man where she was concerned … that I couldn't recall.

"Sheesh! Don't you lock your door?!" she huffed, disturbed by the image of Louisa straddled on top of me, and turning her head away from us.

Louisa jumped up, propping herself up on one arm to steady herself as she looked back at Treena, pining me down in the process. She shouted between clenched teeth, annoyed by the interruption, and glared at her sister with glowing wide eyes that looked as if they were pinned open. "Jeez! Don't you knock?!"

"I would if you closed your door!" Treena quipped back sarcastically imitating's Louisa wide-eyed stare. "Did you forget we have 2 meetings this morning, Will? The ice skating rink? For quotes? I texted you three times to remind you. The first company texted. They'll meet us there at 10am. We're cutting it close, you know."

I felt bad that the meetings had totally slipped my mind. "I truly didn't hear my phone."

Under her breath I heard her murmur, "Apparently with your tongues in one another's mouths your hearing just magically shut off!" Treena turned to leave the attic but abruptly stopped and looked back at the two of us. She shook her head and rolled her eyes and proceeded to both give us a good tongue-lashing and a bit of unsolicited advice!. "I took care of all of all your mailings for Bee & Honey products sold while you sat up here crying your eyes out over him and throwing up. And you, you almost forgot a business meeting on a solid bid for an integral part of opening the ice rink! You know … the ice! You two better get your tongues out of one another's mouths and get yourselves together! And don't let my son see you like … like THAT! Tom's only 5 for God's sake! I refuse to have that conversation that Auntie Lou and Will are just playing adult style! Be forewarned!"

"Treen! I would never!" Louisa exclaimed in horror although her mouth didn't stay agape for too long. "Hey, wait! Those are my red shoes! You took my red shoes! I don't remember giving you permission to wear them!"

"I didn't have anything to match the outfit," the younger Clark sister replied nonchalantly with a dismissive shrug, then ignored Louisa altogether. "I'll be waiting downstairs for you, Will."

Louisa called after Treena as if to get the last word in. "Humph! I won't miss you stealing my stuff, you hear?! What are you going to do when I'm not here anymore? Steal mum's business clothes with shoulder pads from 1982? Huh?"

"I think you've already done that with that wardrobe of yours!" Treena shouted back up your stairs, not giving Louisa any satisfaction which left her fuming! "I don't wear shoulder pads!" she yelled back irate at that ridiculous suggestion!"

She looked back at me from the attic door seething at Treena. "Ooh!" she raged on, blowing off steam with some dramatics. "I don't believe her! First my nail polish then my shiny red shoes. I have the mind to pull them right off her feet! Shoe thief!"

Ah, sisters! I knew a little about them too, having a much younger and bratty one myself. "Count yourself lucky your sister only steals your belongings, Clark. Mine beheads innocent teddy bears."

More to come … hope you are enjoying! Drop me a review if you are!