Winter

Charles watched the deft fingers of his wife knit and pearl from a skein of pale yellow wool, a tiny sleeve forming from the side of a miniature jumper.

"I don't know how you can handle all that warm wool in this heat." Charles took a lick of his ice cream as he and Elsie relaxed under their umbrella in rented lounge chairs on the Brighton shore.

"I don't know how you can keep your shirt sleeves rolled down in this heat," she countered, pausing to take a sip of the lemonade he had brought her.

"That baby won't be here until Christmas and already you have an entire winter wardrobe knit. And why is everything yellow?"

Elsie pursed her lips at her husband, "We don't know if it will be baby boy Bates or baby girl Bates. Either sex can wear yellow."

Charles rolled his eyes, "People will think it is baby banana Bates if you don't vary the color of your wool." He gave her a wink as he shared a lick of his ice cream.

Elsie couldn't help but laugh at her cheeky husband. Their trip had brought out a silly side to him she had seen only on occasion in the fifteen months they had been married, and rarely if ever in the more than twenty years they had spent at Downton. "The beach brings out the boy in you, Mr. Carson."

"And it is going to bring out the lobster in you if you don't pull your bare feet out of the sun, Mrs. Carson."

Elsie smiled as she pulled her knees up, a smattering of freckles already breaking across her uncovered shins. She looked over with envy at the golden brown skin of her husband's legs, his trousers rolled up as they had been the day they had paddled in the waves three years before.

Charles closed his eyes and leaned his head back against his chair, a happy sigh escaping his lips. Elsie reached out and brushed her fingers over the top of his hand, "Enjoying yourself?"

"Very much so. In fact, I am storing up memories, Mrs. Carson."

"Oh yes?"

Charles turned his head, one eye opening in her direction, "I am going to store every single detail of this afternoon in my memory so I can recall it on a cold winter day." He reached over and cupped her face in his hand, "I will look over at you curled up in a cardigan and quilt and I will remember the rose of your cheek left by the kiss of the sun…" he leaned over and gave her a lingering kiss before whispering, "…and the taste of lemon on your lips and I will be made warm."

Elsie put her hand over his, "The business of life is the acquisition of memories. In the end that's all there is."

Charles drew is lips up into a sneer, "What pompous bore said that?"

Elsie looked at him in surprise before breaking into laughter. "You don't remember?"

Charles let out a small groan, "It was me, wasn't it?"

"Afraid so, my love."

"Why do you put up with me?"

Elsie pulled his hand to her lips, "Because you also say sweet things about the rose of my cheek left by the kiss of the sun and give me licks of your ice cream."

Charles grinned, "And what memory will you store up to warm you on a cold winter day, Elsie Carson?"

"I will remember the kiss my husband gave me when he held my hand during our second paddle in the sea."

Charles rose to his feet and offered his hand, "I suppose we had better make some memories then, Mrs. Carson."

As my Nanny Burnaugh used to say, "Hope that didn't curl your teeth..." You guys are beyond lovely. Thank you for all the kind reviews and support.