Niles walked into the den with a steaming tea kettle in hand. He refilled the cup on C.C.'s desk and gingerly stepped out of the way as she paced past him.
"There's more than one chubby kid in this world that can do skateboard tricks," she was saying as she walked the floor with Prudi slung over her shoulder. She patted the baby's back as she spoke into her wireless phone headset. C.C. was working up a lather, and Niles chuckled quietly to himself. Prudi slumbered peacefully, not at all bothered by her mother's escalating blood pressure. It was as if the baby understood that her mother was in her element when she was riled about something.
"Hey, we can put the stripey T-shirt on some other fat kid, no skin off my Ashtabula." She was quiet for a moment while she listened. Niles could overhear some indistinct shouting from the other end. "Listen," C.C. interrupted, switching Prudi to the other shoulder, "I've got six words for you: Darrin Stephens. Becky Conner. Chris Partridge. Think about it." She pressed the disconnect button and removed the earpiece. "Give 'em an inch and they'll take a mile," she said to the bundle in her arms.
"Problems, dear?" Niles asked, reaching his arms out. C.C. gently placed Prudi in his arms, and then stretched lazily before settling down in her desk chair and sipping her tea. "Oh, just the usual," she sighed, kicking off her shoes. "Suddenly 'Skippy' wants third billing and 5 of the back door."
Niles was singing softly to Prudi as she started to stir. He paused and smiled at C.C. "Another agent who thinks he's managing the next Urkel or Olsen twin?"
"You've got it, Butler Babe," C.C. sighed as she rubbed her feet against one another. She closed her eyes and waxed nostalgic on the old days of schmoozing with investors at elegant restaurants. It was so much easier than dealing with all the nit-picky, never-ending tiny details of producing a sitcom.
"I think it's past a certain young lady's bedtime," Niles commented, interrupting C.C.'s reverie.
"Hmph?" she said sitting up and looking at the clock.
"Not you, Blondie," Niles chuckled. "I meant Her Majesty here," he cooed to his daughter. "I'll just go put her down, then I'll make us some dinner. How does grilled chicken sound? I can whip up some garlic mashed potatoes to go…"
"Fine, whatever, sounds great," C.C. sighed, sinking back into her chair and closing her eyes. Between the new baby and the sitcom, their daily schedule had been elevated to chaos level, and it wasn't unusual for them to finally sit down for dinner at 8:00 in the evening. C.C. didn't mind that Niles frequently discarded haute cuisine in favor or something quick and easy these days; lately all she wanted was something warm in her tummy before she collapsed into bed.
"Don't forget," Niles reminded her as he headed towards the kitchen, "we're supposed to have dinner with the Sheffields tomorrow night. Six thirty." He paused and raised his eyebrows questioningly in her direction.
"Yes, yes, I've got it written down in my….well, it's written somewhere."
She heard the clanking of pots and pans in the kitchen, and called to Niles, "I'm going to change into something more comfortable." The horrible cliché-ness of that statement occurred to her at the same time Niles replied, "Go right ahead, you saucy wench."
"Oy," C.C. thought as she stripped off her pale pink Armani suit. "I've been in Hollywood too long already – I'm beginning to talk like a freakin' B-grade movie." She rummaged through her dresser, looking for some comfy sweat pants, when she found that hideous pair of leopard-spotted "lounging pajamas" she'd been coerced into buying at Nanny Fine's "Undercover Wear" party. She fingered the satiny material for a moment and then murmured "what the hell."
Niles greeted her with a delightfully vulgar whistle when she walked into the kitchen. C.C. smiled and almost felt a blush coming on. It had been a long time since she'd felt attractive; ever since Prudence was born, she felt like nothing more than a non-descript, overtired, shapeless Mom-blob. For a fleeting second, she wondered if Niles was simply being polite and trying to boost her spirits, or did he really think she still looked sexy?
"I over-analyze everything too much," she mentally shook herself. She opened the refrigerator door, pulled out a pitcher, and announced, "We're almost out of iced tea." She turned and looked at Niles accusingly.
Niles spoke without looking up. "I'm so sorry. What with taking care of the baby, interviewing chauffeurs for the Sheffields and sitting in traffic for an hour and a half to get to my bar review class, there is absolutely no excuse for my neglect of iced tea duty." He flipped the chicken fillets over and sprinkled a touch of black pepper on them.
"Spare me the sob story, Hazel," C.C. snapped. She poured herself a tall glass of tea, and put the almost-empty pitcher back into the refrigerator. She picked up her glass and turned around, only to be confronted by Niles glaring at her, hands on hips.
"What?" she asked.
"Do you think the iced tea fairy will magically refill the pitcher while it's in there?" he said, nodding towards the fridge.
"Well, where do you want me to put it?"
"Oh, never ask me a question like that when I'm this exhausted."
C.C. sat down at the table while Niles got the pitcher and went about making fresh tea. She watched him as he simultaneously kept an eye on the potatoes that were boiling and adjusted the temperature on the broiler. Sure, she was burning the candle at both ends between caring for Prudi and working at the studio. But Niles was doing as much, if not more, for the baby as she, on top of running the house. She felt guilty for starting an argument; only minutes ago he'd been whistling at her, now they were snapping at each other. "I sure have a knack for screwing things up," she though grimly.
The two were silent for a few minutes and then C.C. quietly asked, "Can I help you with anything?"
Niles smiled to himself. He knew that C.C.'s question was her version of an apology. "If you could get some plates and silverware out, that would be nice. And then you can help me most by staying out of my way. I've seen your handiwork in the kitchen before."
"That wasn't bad," C.C. commented as she handed Niles her plate. He stacked it in the dishwasher and C.C. went to the table to collect the silverware. "The mashed potatoes were nice and stiff, just like at the diner," she added with just enough sarcasm to get his goat.
"Well, they were nice and fluffy when I first put them on the table, it's not my fault you weren't here…"
"Oh, and it's my fault that your daughter needed a fill-up and a change." C.C. handed him a fistful of cutlery and gave him a quick peck on the cheek to remind him she was only teasing.
Niles fired up the dishwasher and the couple adjourned to the living room with their cappuccinos. C.C. settled at one end of the sofa and stretched her legs out on the seat next to her. Niles sat on the love seat opposite her and took a long sip of his coffee. He glanced up at her over his cup and casually said, "Maybe it's time we finally hire someone…"
"Oh, Niles, we've had this discussion before. Having a domestic, some strange person, in this house alone with Prudi, and you and I are out so much during the day – what about our things? How can we trust anyone?"
"Mr. Sheffield trusted me, and I thought you did, too," Niles pointed out.
"Well, that's different…" C.C. suddenly seemed fascinated by her coffee cup. She didn't look up as she spoke. "I mean, you were from England and all, and were a trained professional… In California, all we're going to get are…immigrants…"
"Why, Miss Babcock, your diplomatic skills are showing again."
"You know that's not what I mean. I'm not prejudiced – "
"No, you hate all people equally," Niles smiled and walked across to the sofa. C.C. raised her legs, Niles sat down, and gently placed her feet in his lap.
"Maybe Grace could come over during the day and watch Prudi and give you some time off. She seems to like taking care of the baby," C.C. sighed as Niles massaged her soles. "God knows Fran won't let her near those twins…"
"Miss Grace will be resuming school soon and won't be available during the day. And Fran is just…well, a little overprotective when it comes to Eve and Jonah. She still thinks she's the only one who can take care of them properly. Remember, she wouldn't even leave them with us when she and Max flew to Europe to visit Brighton."
"That must've been a real treat," C.C. smiled, "two screaming babies on a trans-Atlantic flight. I wonder how many of their fellow passengers asked for a refund."
Niles placed C.C.'s feet on the floor and scooted next to her. "You're putting in a lot of hours at the studio, which will only get worse once Max starts work on that made-for-TV movie. And I've got the bar exam coming up, and once I pass, I'll be busy building a practice. It makes sense to start looking for help now, before our lives get any more hectic." He leaned in close as he spoke, and the warmth of his breath caused an involuntary shudder of pleasure throughout C.C.'s body. Niles' eyes narrowed as he saw her reaction, and he added a quick nibble to her neck to seal the deal.
C.C. sighed heavily as she reached her arm around Niles and pulled him close. "You do have a way with…um, words," she moaned lightly as his tongue teased her ear. She closed her eyes and let herself get lost in the sensation. Her left hand moved towards Niles' thigh as if it had a mind of its own. She felt his excitement, and snuggled against his chest, her right hand sneaking up under his shirt.
"Just think," Niles growled into her ear, "if we had some help around here, we'd have more time for….this." And he gripped her face with his hands and assaulted her mouth with a deep, sensuous kiss. C.C. responded in full measure. While her tongue danced around his, she pushed him back and unbuttoned his shirt. In one motion Niles pulled her on top of him and stripped off her pajama top. "Perhaps," he muttered, "we could discuss this at a later date…."
When C.C. rushed into the house the next evening after work, Niles already had Prudi bundled into her carrier. "Sorry I'm late," she panted as she brushed a kiss across his lips. "I'll be changed and ready in a minute…"
Niles poked through the diaper bag to make sure he'd packed everything. Prudi had already fallen asleep, and C.C. reappeared dressed in a casual pantsuit. "Ready when you are," she announced.
Niles resisted the urge to say "I've been ready" and simply hoisted the diaper bag over his shoulder and carefully picked up the baby carrier. "Let's go then," he replied.
The Sheffield house was a cacophony of sound. Eve and Jonah were situated on the kitchen floor, throwing Fisher Price Little People at each other and screaming in delight whenever one hit its mark. Fran was calling out from an unseen room to the maid, and the phone was ringing.
"Hola," Pilar greeted them and motioned for them to come in. "¿Desea usted una bebida?"
"Agua mineral, por favor," C.C. replied. "Y té con el limón." She turned to Niles as Pilar scurried off. "I hope tea with lemon is OK; my command of the Spanish language doesn't extend to 'Harvey Wallbanger.'"
"Who's there, Pilar?" Fran's voice called out.
"Mister Niles and Mrs. C.C.," the maid answered.
Fran rushed out to the living room and threw her arms around the couple. "Oh, it's sooo good to see you two!" She gestured for them to sit down. "We haven't had company in like forever! But you know how it is, with kids and all," she grinned at C.C.
C.C. winced with every "clang" as one of the twins banged away on a pan in the kitchen. "Yes, I know how it is," she said with a thin smile. The banging continued and Fran looked over her shoulder with pride. "Do you hear that? Jonah has such fabulous hand-eye coordination, and at his age!"
"Mrs. Fran, when will Mr. Max be home?" Pilar asked as she brought in the refreshments. "Dinner will be ready muy pronto."
"He should be here any minute; he called from the car, he was held up on the 405." She turned to C.C. "In the meantime, you gotta see the fabulous dress I found at the Montclair Collection. Ivory is perfect for your skin tone…"
"I didn't know there was a perfect match for pasty white," Niles muttered with a sidelong glance at C.C. She gave him the expected elbow in the ribs and then asked Fran, "What dress? What are you talking about? Are you going to a formal?"
"Not for me, you silly goose, for you. For your wedding!"
Niles barely concealed a guffaw, and concealed his face by leaning over Prudi's carrier to rearrange her blanket.
"Nann- Fran," C.C. began, with a hint of desperation in her voice, "I really don't want to wear anything too elaborate… After all, I'm not exactly an ingénue."
"It doesn't matter what religion you are, this dress is totally non-denominational." Fran dashed from the room and returned with a catalogue. She flipped it open to a page and handed it to C.C.
"My God," C.C. moaned as she glanced at the frilly confection of satin and lace, "It looks like it was stolen from Stevie Nicks' closet!"
"Now," Fran continued flipping through pages, ignoring C.C.'s comment, "do you prefer a fingertip, elbow or waist length veil? I think the satin corded edge looks best, but what do you think?"
"Niles, pleeease help meeee…" C.C. muttered out the side of her mouth.
"My goodness," Niles announced, plucking Prudi out of her carrier. "I think someone is in need of a change."
"I'll do it!" C.C. almost yelled, jumping out of her seat.
"Nonsense," Niles smiled, picking up the diaper bag. "You stay and decide on shoes and gloves with Fran." With a quick wink at C.C., he left the room.
"I'll get you for this, Ragmop," she whispered through clenched teeth.
"Mr. Max is home!" Pilar called from the kitchen.
"Thank goodness," C.C. thought, grateful for the interruption.
"Hello, darling," Maxwell swept in and embraced Fran. "C.C.! So glad you could come! Where's Niles?"
"Hiding, I mean, he's in the other room, we had a diaper emergency."
"Dinner is almost ready," Pilar sang out, "you should all please to come sit down!"
Fran put her arm around C.C.'s shoulder as they headed for the dining room. "We have sooo much to talk about – we can continue over dinner, OK?"
"Sure," C.C. responded. "I should've taken a Prilosec before I left the house," she thought to herself. "This conversation will do nothing to improve my digestion."
"Home at last," C.C. gasped as she collapsed onto the sofa back in their own living room. "I think that dinner lasted longer than my two years at finishing school."
"Speaking of dinner," Niles commented, handing Prudi over to her mother, "I think someone wants a snack before bedtime." He went to the nursery and returned with a boppy, which he handed to C.C. She settled back and proceeded to feed her daughter. She smiled down at her baby as she nursed.
"Promise me, Niles, that you will never hand her a wooden spoon and a saucepan until she's old enough to cook with them."
Niles chuckled as he sat down beside her. "That Jonah sure has some rhythm, eh?"
"And boundless energy," C.C. added. "I thought those two would never be quiet! And how Fran thought it was 'cute' when Evie threw a fistful of mashed carrots at me." She subconsciously brushed at the front of her jacket where a small stain still remained. "Were Max's other kids like that when they were that age?"
"Not quite," Niles smiled in remembrance. "Sarah was a …. different type of mother than Fran. She loved her children, of course, but she also didn't stand for any nonsense. She was almost British in that respect."
"I don't know how Maxwell can stand all that noise after being at the studio all day." C.C. buttoned up when Prudi finished and rose to put her to bed. Niles followed behind her.
"Well, Max isn't home during the day, you know, so he doesn't hear a lot of it," Niles said as he fetched the wipes and the powder. "In fact," he added, "Fran was just telling me the other day that Max has been working a lot of overtime lately. He stays even later at the studio than you, which is something."
"Well," C.C. replied as she sealed the tabs on Prudi's fresh diaper, "since the baby came, I thought it was important to spend more time at home that at work." She paused and looked up. "Oh God, did I just say that?"
"Maxwell has been through the new daddy thing three times previously," C.C. continued as they headed towards their bedroom, "maybe the shine has worn off."
"Do you really think that's possible? Take one look at Prudi and tell me that that sight, that experience, would ever lose its magic."
"You're right, of course," C.C. admitted. "Maybe I'm just looking for excuses for Max to work so late. He's making me feel like a slacker."
The couple slid under the covers and curled up against one another.
"You said Fran mentioned Max working late?" C.C. asked.
"Mmmm," he murmured against her neck sleepily, "She just made a comment. I don't think she was concerned or worried…."
C.C. heard his breathing grow slow and even, and she knew he was almost asleep.
"You know, I've been thinking," she began.
"Well, this is a red letter day, then, isn't it," Niles shifted his position and stretched.
"I've been thinking," she continued, "that if Jonah and Eve are that rambunctious after being with their own mother all day…maybe having some help around here wouldn't be so bad after all. If, God forbid, Prudi gets hyper-energetic like them when she's older, well, at least we'd have a break from it now and then. And you'd still be nearby, to keep an eye on things…" (…and then hopefully you won't start finding excuses to stay away, she thought to herself.)
"I'll start making some calls first thing tomorrow," Niles said before she could change her mind.
to be continued