In spite of their busy schedules, Fran and Maxwell dated frequently over the next five weeks. He was reasonably sure she was oblivious to his plan. Unlocking the safe, Maxwell opened the box to admire the fiery brilliance of the ring.
The arrangements for this evening should be in place. By tonight, Fran will be speechless. A wicked thought passed through his head. Well, maybe not speechless.
With a devilish grin, he slid the black velvet box into his briefcase and snapped it shut.
Picking up the phone, Maxwell began dialing home when he remembered Fran had a meeting with a charity organization. Checking his watch, he took a chance and dialed her cell phone.
"Hello darling. Is everything all right?"
"I thought that meeting would never end. Gloria Stewart completely took over the planning committee." Fran blew out a heavy sigh. "But enough about that. How is your day?"
"It'll be better when I see you. Do you have any plans for the evening?"
"No but honey, I'm not really in the mood to go out. A nice evening at home is just fine with me."
"Actually, that was my idea. You, me, and a candlelight dinner in the gazebo. What do you say?"
"I say what time?"
"Around seven."
"Great. It will give me time to relax. I'll see you later sweetie. Love you."
"I love you too sweetheart."
Maxwell cleared the line then dialed the house number. Drumming his fingers on the desk, his patience began to wear as he waited for someone to pick up. He was about to hang up when Thelma breathlessly answered the phone.
"Where the bloody hell have you been? Do you know how long the phone's been ringing?"
Thelma took a gulp of air before she answered him. "I'm sorry Mr. Sheffield. There was a problem in the laundry room."
Maxwell's voice softened. "What kind of problem?"
"The washing machine overflowed and flooded the wash room."
"Is everything all right?"
"It will be. The plumber is on his way. Mrs. Sheffield hasn't arrived yet if that's why you're calling."
"Actually, I was calling to speak to Robert. Is he there?"
"Yes sir, just a moment."
He could hear the sound of footsteps followed by a string of murmured curse words before Robert answered the phone.
"Is everything all right Robert?"
"Yes sir. The champagne is in the refrigerator. For dinner, I thought I'd prepare - "
"No Robert, I meant is everything all right at home? Thelma told me there was a problem with the washing machine."
"Oh that? Everything is under control. This won't interfere with your plans with Mrs. Sheffield."
"Good. Thank you again Robert."
"You're welcome Mr. Sheffield."
Fran sat in front of the vanity pulling a rebellious section of hair into a roller. Glancing at the clock, she crossed the room and entered the walk-in-closet. She tapped her finger against her cheek, scanning the rows of clothes that filled her closet.
Dress or skirt? Something short or long? Causal or dressy?
Fran threw her hands up and released a grunt of frustration. She stared into the wardrobe, waiting for some semblance of an idea to present itself, when a flash of gold caught her attention.
Rummaging through the lower rack, Fran skimmed through the hangers until she found her gold lace skirt. Hanging the garment at the top of the door, she frantically searched through the top rack of clothing.
"Ah ha!"
She smiled triumphantly, holding up the gold silk v-neck tank. Gathering the skirt, she walked over to the full-length mirror and held each item to her body. Distracted by her yellow terry cloth robe, Fran quickly tossed it aside and held the skirt and tank against her bare body.
"Perfect. On to jewelry."
Slipping back into her robe, Fran walked back into her closet and opened her armoire. She turned back to look at the clothes lying across the bed. Snapping her fingers, Fran instantly knew what would complete her outfit.
Opening a drawer, she picked up the two-tone diamond cut chandelier pendant and earrings set given to her one year as a mother's day present.
"And to finish, gold high-heeled sandals."
Fran assembled her outfit and accessories across the bed. Stepping back, a wide satisfied grin crossed her face.
"We've got a winner!"
Robert quickly glanced at his watch before flipping the crystal tumbler right side up. Dropping three ice cubes into the glass, he selected a bottle of twelve-year-old scotch and filled it half way with the amber liquid.
Right on schedule, Robert thought placing the drink on the silver tray. Taking a few quick steps, he greeted Maxwell as he stepped into the foyer.
"Thank you Robert." He exchanged his briefcase for the glass. "Has the problem with the washing machine and flooding been taken care of?"
"Yes sir, although the repair bill may cause you to lose consciousness."
Maxwell chuckled. "I'm sure it will. What about my plans for the evening?"
"Everything is going according to schedule."
"Perfect. Has Mrs. Sheffield come downstairs yet?"
"No sir. I haven't seen her since she came in from her meeting a few hours ago."
Maxwell finished the last of his drink and placed the empty tumbler in the center of the tray.
"Thank you Robert." He turned toward the stairs then stopped. "Robert?"
"Yes Mr. Sheffield?"
"Where's Thelma?"
"She's outside working in the gazebo."
Odd thoughts filled Maxwell's mind as he made his way across the patio. While his staunch upbringing questioned what he was about to do, his intellect reasoned that he needed to do this.
He stood back for a moment and watched Thelma smooth the linen over the small round table. As she prepared the place settings, a battle between consciousness and class continued to play in his mind.
Maxwell was so absorbed with his thoughts that he didn't realize Thelma called his name until he felt her gently shake his arm.
"I didn't mean to startle you. I just wanted to know if everything is all right."
"With what?"
"With the arrangements." She waved her hand, gesturing at the gazebo.
"Oh yes. Everything is perfect. Thank you."
"You're welcome Mr. Sheffield." When he hadn't moved, she asked, "Was there something else?"
"Yes. I wanted to apologize for how I spoke to you earlier."
"Mr. Sheffield, that isn't necessary. I get a little short tempered too if I have to wait a long time for something. Besides, you had no idea what happened."
"While that's true, I still shouldn't have been as terse as I was. I apologize for the harsh way I spoke to you."
"Thank you Mr. Sheffield." Thelma watched him start toward the house. On impulse, she called out to him. "Mr. Sheffield?"
"Yes Thelma?"
"That was very considerate of you. Most people in your position wouldn't have bothered to offer an apology. I really appreciate it."
"You're welcome Thelma."
Maxwell turned down the hallway, humming a tune from one of the last plays he produced before he uprooted everyone and moved the entire family clear across the country.
He stopped short of his bedroom and sighed. His life as a Broadway producer seemed ages ago. Maxwell paused and watched Fran slip an earring into her lobe.
Pinching the French wire, Fran tilted her head to thread the earring in her ear when she saw Maxwell leaning against the doorframe. Meeting his eyes in the mirror, she smiled.
"Are you going to remain frozen there or are you coming to greet me properly?"
Pushing off the frame, Maxwell slowly made his way over to Fran. He pulled her to her full height, taking in every inch of the beautiful spectacle she presented.
Shaking his head, a wicked grin crossed his face. "You look...delicious. You make me want to forget my plans for the evening."
"And just what are your plans for the evening?" she asked returning his smile.
"Right now, the only thought running through my head is undressing and ravaging a certain beautiful and sexy brunette."
Maxwell began to run kisses down the side of her neck. He drew her into him, brushing her body with his own.
"What about our dinner plans?"
"What about them?"
"Don't tell me I wasted time, clothes, and make-up to be molested before dinner."
"Trust me, it's not a waste." He met her lips in a light kiss then slowly deepened it. "Don't you want to skip ahead to our ... other activities?"
"You promised me a candlelight dinner. You didn't say anything about other activities."
"Do I really need to?"
"No but I'm not giving in to you that easily." Her voice was husky with desire. "Dinner first, pleasurable diversions later."
"All right, fine!" he said in mock anger. "I guess I have no choice but to wait."
Fusing her lips to his in a deep passionate kiss, Fran asked, "Aren't I worth the wait?"
"Oh most definitely."
He felt ridiculous, exchanging one suit for another but he didn't see another option - at least one that would have appealed to the style he wanted.
Maxwell watched his reflection attempt a Windsor knot. He pulled the uncooperative tie from his neck and tossed it to the floor. Running his fingers through his hair, Maxwell blew out a harsh breath.
Studying him self in the mirror, he didn't care for the navy blue suit or the crisp white shirt. I look like I'm going to a meeting instead of dinner with my wife, he thought ruefully.
Maxwell swiped the tie off the floor and entered the walk-in closet. He scanned the rows of shirts until one in particular caught his eye.
Why didn't I notice that one before?
Tossing his jacket aside, Maxwell quickly unbuttoned the white shirt and exchanged it for the deep gold shirt he pulled off the hanger.
He stood in front of the mirror. It was slightly darker than the top Fran wore. He liked the shirt but it didn't really go with the navy blue suit.
"Ah ha!"
Maxwell slipped out of his slacks and walked back into the closet. Sliding the black sports jacket and trousers off their hanger, he stood in front of the mirror once more.
The black jacket and pants were the perfect compliment to the open collar shirt he wore. It captured the look he wanted: casually elegant with a hint of sensual chic.
"Much better."
Hanging up his shirt, suit, and tie on the valet, Maxwell exited the bedroom and headed downstairs.
Maxwell quickly made his way across the patio, mentally kicking himself for his tardiness. He took a deep breath to calm himself before he stepped into the gazebo. Maxwell paused at the entrance when he saw the empty table.
Where the bloody hell is she?
He turned at the sound of footsteps striking the gravel path. When she drew near, Maxwell extended his hand. Lacing his fingers with hers, Maxwell escorted Fran into the gazebo. He leaned down and nuzzled the nape of her neck as she settled in the chair.
"You look exquisite."
A flush of desire spread through her body as she watched Maxwell pull his chair up to the table.
"Thank you. You look pretty sexy yourself."
Maxwell reached for Fran's left hand. Caressing her fingers, he wondered how he was going to get her engagement and wedding rings from her hand without her being suspicious.
Robert, dressed formally in tails and white gloves, made his way across the patio with a bottle of vintage champagne. He paused at the entrance of the gazebo, watching his employers.
He smiled, thinking that no matter what happened, Fran and Maxwell Sheffield were a couple still very much in love. Robert discreetly coughed, reluctant to break the romantic spell around them.
Maxwell pulled away from Fran when Robert entered the gazebo. As Robert poured the effervescent liquid into the flutes, Thelma placed a tray of hors d'oeurves on the table.
"Sir, madam, dinner will be served shortly," Robert said.
"Could you give us a few moments alone before you serve dinner?"
"Of course Mr. Sheffield."
Maxwell intertwined their fingers, waiting until Robert and Thelma left to speak.
"Oh Fran, you've made me so incredibly happy. Do you realize that we've been dating for five weeks?"
"Yes."
"Do you know the significance of the five weeks?" When she shook her head no, Maxwell replied, "Think about it. What is significant about the number five?"
"Well, we have five children."
"And what else?"
She looked at Maxwell. His lighthearted joyful voice and bright sparkling eyes threatened to spill the secret he desperately tried to hide.
"We knew each other five years before we got married." She paused and smiled. "That's what this is about, isn't it? We dated for each year that we knew each other."
Maxwell nodded excitedly. "Exactly. Our dating for the past five weeks has been leading up to a very special moment. Fran, I - "
"Maxwell!"
He turned at the sharp sound of CC's voice as she rushed toward the gazebo. Niles trailed behind her, trying to stop her.
"CC," Niles began, "I think you're - "
"This can't wait butler boy!" Fran and Maxwell looked at each other then at the base of the steps where CC and Niles stood. "Maxwell, you will not guess in a million years who I just got off the phone with."
"CC, Fran and I were - "
"Marco Casale!"
"Who?"
"Marco Casale! Lena St. James' agent."
"Oh."
"Oh? Oh? Is that the only thing you can say?
"CC, dearest, I think we're interrupting something important."
CC turned, throwing an irritated glance at her husband. "But Niles, this is important too. Marco told me that Lena is very interested in the lead role of the new series we're developing for the fall line up."
"What new series?" Fran asked.
"Well, the tentative title is called Anyone's Life but Mine. It's about this woman from an ordinary background who wants to escape her life. Anyway, we have a meeting with Marco, Lena, and David Jacobs scheduled for next week. Isn't that great?"
"Yes, that's very nice CC."
"Nice? I came all the way over here to tell you that one of the top TV stars wants in on a project that's not completely developed and all you can say is that's nice?"
Before he could respond, Maxwell spotted Jonah and Eve standing near Niles.
"What are the two of you doing out here?"
"Well, when Aunt CC and Uncle Niles made a mad dash through the house, we were kind of curious," Jonah said.
"Besides, how could we resist not following Aunt CC when she kept saying 'Oh my God, Maxwell's going to plotz when I tell him the news'," Eve replied.
"Lena St. James is going to work with the two of you?" Jonah asked. "May I meet her? She's so...talented. Dark wavy hair, smoldering brown eyes, smooth caramel skin. I remember this scene in her movie, The Darkest Hour, when she - "
"Jonah, you've said enough," Fran said tipping her head toward Maxwell. "We all understand that you admire her - "
"Acting abilities?" Maxwell offered.
A faint blush crossed Jonah's face. "Uh, yeah."
Robert called out to the twins as he made his way toward the cluster of people standing at the base of the gazebo.
"Jonah, Eve, what are you doing out here? I thought the two of you were in the dining room."
"We were but we were swept into the squall of Hurricane CC," Eve replied.
"The last time I wanted to do this, it didn't turn out how I expected," Maxwell grumbled. "Why should this be any different?"
Fran took Maxwell by the hand. "Sweetie? What's going on?"
Slipping his hand from hers, Maxwell pushed his chair back and paced within the confines of the gazebo.
When his eyes met Fran's questioning gaze, Maxwell smiled. Settling in his chair, he lifted her fingers to kiss the back of her hand.
"Fran, for the past twenty years - " He stopped then started again. "For the past twenty-five years, you have been my friend, my partner in life, my anchor in the storm. And in that time, my love for you has grown in leaps and bounds."
Maxwell paused, easing her wedding band and engagement ring from her hand. He fished the black velvet box from his pocket.
"Francine, will you grant me the honor of being your friend, your lover, your soul mate for another twenty-five years?" Maxwell sank down on one knee and popped open the box. "Will you marry me...again?"
Her hand flew to her mouth, covering her gasp of shock and delight.
"Will you Fran?"
"Oh yes. Yes I'll marry you again."
Fran reached down to remove her wedding band and engagement ring. Her eyes widened when she realized her rings were missing.
"Oh my God! Max! My wedding band and engagement ring are –
"Right here," he replied opening his palm. "May I finish what I started?" At her nod, Maxwell slid the ring onto her finger. Fran held out her hand, watching the light play off the ring.
"Maxwell, Fran, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to - "
"It's all right CC. And it really is fantastic news about Lena St. James."
"I'll call you tomorrow."
"Good night Fran, good night Maxwell. Congratulations."
"Thanks Niles," Fran said kissing him on the cheek.
Tugging on his sleeve, CC muttered, "Come on Beulah, we've disturbed Fran and Maxwell long enough."
"Coming my brunette queen."
"I guess this is our cue to leave as well," Eve said.
She popped her brother in the arm, shaking him from his distant thoughts.
"Yeah." Jonah made a divot in the graveled path with the heel of his sneaker. "Night mom, night dad."
"Good night ma, good night daddy."
Fran gave Jonah and Eve each a hug and kiss. "Night kids."
"Good night Jonah, good night Eve," Maxwell said giving them both a light kiss on the head.
Jonah started away from his parents but turned around.
"Dad?"
"Yes Jonah?"
"Your proposal to mom was nice but can I say that there are some things about my parents I didn't need to know."
Maxwell frowned, wondering what he meant. Replaying the words of his proposal, he arched his eyebrow at his young son.
"Firstly, you weren't supposed to have been here, secondly, making love is a physical expression between married couples, and thirdly, may I remind you that you wouldn't have existed if I did not love your mother."
Jonah was about to reply when Eve grabbed his arm.
"Now would be a good time for you not to say anything."
As Fran and Maxwell watched the twins walk toward the house, they heard Eve draw an exasperated breath while telling Jonah that he was a complete pain in the tuchas.
In the midst of the fracas, neither Fran nor Maxwell realized that Robert was gone until he reappeared with Thelma carrying their dinner.
"I left your dinner in the oven to keep warm during all the excitement."
"Thank you Robert."
"Have either of your eaten?" Fran asked.
"We'll have dinner just as soon as we finish serving you and Mr. Sheffield," Thelma replied.
"I hope you mean dinner and not the entire evening?"
"Yes madam," Robert said.
Pushing the plate aside, Maxwell blotted his mouth with the edge of the napkin and dropped it across the empty plate.
"Dinner was fabulous," Fran said with a satisfied sigh.
"Yes it was, in spite of its rocky beginning." He curled her fingers in his palm and lightly kissed the back of her hand. "Are you happy darling?"
"I can't begin to tell you how happy I am." She stretched out her hand to gaze at her ring. "It's gorgeous Maxwell. Renewing our vows is the perfect anniversary present. How long have you been planning this?"
"For a little while. I wanted to give you something truly memorable."
"But sweetie, you didn't have to do this."
"Yes I did."
Rising from his chair, Maxwell took Fran by the hand and led her out of the gazebo. Settling on the top step, he slid his arm around her waist, drawing her body into his.
"I never liked how I proposed to you. It wasn't what I planned."
"Well it's not like you chose to be mugged."
"I know but I wanted that evening to be special for you and it wasn't."
Fran placed her hands on each side of his face to make sure she had his attention.
"Maxwell, it was special because you were ready to show the world that you loved me. That's all I truly wanted."
She leaned into him, meeting his mouth in a gentle kiss. He pulled away from her. The mischievous thought that entered his mind manifested itself in a smile.
"That's not all you wanted," he whispered suggestively.
"Yeah, like you weren't having the same thoughts about me."
"I never said I didn't." Maxwell brushed her hair aside, his lips trailing along the curve of her neck. "I am hopelessly and utterly addicted to you."
A soft smile crossed her face. "You're kind of cute too."
"I love you Fran."
"I love you too Max."
Maxwell grazed her lips lightly before pressing his mouth firmly to hers. As he began to pull away, Fran slid her hand to the back of his head and drew him to her once more.
Caught up in her exuberant kiss, Maxwell wound his arms around her body, pulling Fran against his chest. His hand ran across her thigh, resting fully on her bottom.
As he gave her a gentle squeeze, Fran moaned into Maxwell's parted mouth. Slithering his tongue between her lips, he wrapped and caressed her tongue with his own.
"Excuse me Mr. and Mrs. Sheffield?"
With a whispered shocked gasp, Fran and Maxwell pulled away from each other. A faint blush crossed their face when Robert interrupted their intimate embrace.
"Yes - " Maxwell stopped to clear his throat and started again. "Yes Robert?"
"If the two of you are finished dinner, I could bring you dessert. Unless you want to save dessert for another time."
Threading her fingers with Maxwell's, Fran asked, "What did you prepare for dessert?"
"Angel food strawberry shortcake with fresh whipped cream and strawberries."
Giving Fran's hand a light squeeze, Maxwell said, "We'll have dessert later – I mean another time."
"Of course Mr. Sheffield. Thelma and I will just clear the dinner dishes and clean up."
Maxwell stood then helped Fran to her feet.
"Dinner was exceptional. Thank you for your help with tonight's preparations."
"You're welcome sir, madam. Congratulations.
"Thank you Robert. Have a good evening."
"Thank you Mrs. Sheffield."
Sliding their arms around each other's waists, Maxwell guided Fran along the gravel path and quietly entered the house.