Thank you so much for reading and for your comments! Thought our couple could use a few more light-hearted moments with some serious issues thrown in. Should be pitchfork-free . . . for now, anyway, lol. Enjoy! :)
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
"Daniel, where are we going? I can't believe you won't let me take this thing off," Betty exclaimed in frustration. She was too intrigued by Daniel's secrecy to continue with his little game, although she had already figured out by the clip-clopping sound and the pungent smell that they were more than likely in a horse-drawn carriage. Her hand reached for the blindfold, but he immediately swatted it away.
"Betty! You'll ruin my surprise! Just remember - good things come to good girls who wait . . ." he whispered mysteriously in her ear. "You're really having fun with this, aren't you?" she mused. "Hey, it's not every day I can kidnap a beautiful woman and do whatever I want with her – especially not one as feisty as you," he pointed out, seductively kissing her lips. "So just relax . . . and enjoy the ride," he leaned back and put his arm around her.
"Fine . . ." Betty sighed and relented, resting her head on his shoulder. "How much longer?" she asked after only a minute had past. "You know those family road trips with the annoying kids in the car whining 'Are we there yet'?" Daniel hinted. "Sorry – it's just I have this thing about not knowing or planning and –" Betty apologized.
"I know – you had my schedules worked down to the minute. But just . . . trust me okay? I promise you're going to like what you see when we get there," he assured her. "Okay – but it'd better be good," she teased. Daniel chuckled. "So. What was Lindsay's reaction when you told him the news?" he asked as a distraction.
"He was really happy for us and actually offered to give me three days off for the honeymoon," she answered. "Wow! That's really good since you just started," he exclaimed. "Yeah, I know! I was surprised too – I figured we'd just have the weekend for everything and that'd be it," she agreed.
"I hope he's that understanding when you tell him about the baby," he added. "Me, too. But I was thinking . . . I could still work from home – I just wouldn't be able to oversee photo shoots and things like that. But I could do pretty much everything else as long as I had my laptop and my phone," she pondered.
"Baby, are you sure about that? I mean, those six weeks are supposed to be for you to recover from the delivery and get adjusted to everything. Do you really want the added stress of work going along with that?" he asked, concerned.
"Daniel, it's not like I haven't helped take care of a baby before. The only thing I'll have to get used to is breast-feeding. Besides, I don't know if I'll have a choice. Offering to still work from home might be the only way to stay on Lindsay's good side. Six weeks is a long time to be off," she pointed out.
"True . . . I just don't want you to over-do it," he told her. "It's too bad you couldn't fill in for me while I'm gone – but I know you'll have a job by then," she wistfully sighed. "Hopefully. I don't really know what I'm looking for," he said.
"Well, I do have a few positions to fill at the magazine. But that's only if you want – you should find your own passion – what you've always dreamed about doing," she encouraged him, blindly reaching out for his hand. Daniel took it, placing both of their hands around her stomach.
"That's the thing – I don't think I've ever had the chance to even think about it. Dad had already decided what Alex and I were going to do since we were born. And after I actually put some effort into it, I loved being editor of MODE. I just hated all the paperwork and responsibility that came along with it. If I could just cover shoots, deal with layouts, and come up with concepts, it wouldn't be so bad. But dealing with paperwork and financial problems – having a ton of dull meetings a week . . . that's what I hated," he confessed.
"So . . . do you think you still want to stay in the mag industry? I mean, I'm not trying to stop you from it, but there are other places you can go with your degree and experience," Betty delicately tried to suggest. "I think the problem is that I know one day I'll be running MEADE – whether it's from here or back in New York - it's my father's company and I'll eventually inherit it. So steering too far from that direction and then having to go back would be harder, for me at least," he admitted.
"That's no reason not to find something you enjoy in the meantime, though. You've got decades before having to think about that – for your mother's sake, I hope. Take a chance – like you did with me. What do you really want – right now?" she encouraged him. "Well . . . advertising always seemed like a cool job. It'd still be dealing with concepts and shoots, PR . . . but without all the paperwork B.S., right?" he contemplated.
"It depends on what position you have in the industry, I guess. I mean, look at all the negotiation we went through every issue to please our advertisers. There's obviously some paperwork involved along the line and crappy things you're not going to want to do. But every job has that. And maybe there's not a lot or any paperwork on the level you're aspiring to be at . . . I think it's a great idea, babe – if that's what you really want to do," she said, interlocking their fingers. "Thank you," he gently kissed her cheek.
"I just thought of something, though. Who's going to watch the baby while we're both at work?" he realized. "Oh – I was going to tell you - I discreetly looked into that today. Turns out Dunne Publications has a built-in childcare center. Guess they want to encourage working parents and understand unexpected long hours are sometimes a problem at normal centers," she enthusiastically replied.
"That's great! I was afraid we'd need to hire a nanny or something," he said, relieved. As he absently toyed with their interlocked fingers he considered their situation. At least this way Betty would be able to be with their child during her lunch and down time. And depending on where he worked, he could try to do the same. It wasn't as good as constantly having one of them with their child, but it was definitely better than having someone else raise their kid.
"Daniel? Are we doing the right thing?" Betty stilled their hands, pulling them back down to her stomach. "What do you mean?" Daniel wondered. "Having someone other than family take care of our child – even if we make time for them throughout the work day? I mean, the first few years are the most important times of his or her life . . ." she had second thoughts.
"I don't know . . . I do know that whatever we do has to be better than handing our baby off to the nanny and only making time to tuck him or her in every night. Our parents aren't here to help us, but that doesn't prevent us from still being good parents ourselves – or make us bad ones for both working," he assured her.
"I just . . ." Betty began. "Feel selfish for wanting it all?" Daniel finished for her. "How did you -?" she asked, flummoxed by the way he so quickly knew exactly what she was feeling. "Because I can tell when you're worried. And you shouldn't be. You have no reason to believe you're being selfish for still wanting to keep your job. It's not the '50s anymore, you can do both and not feel bad about it," he pointed out.
"Are you sure?" she timidly asked. "Betty, our child isn't going to suffer from spending a few hours a day with someone else. As long as we make as much time as we can for him or her, there's nothing to worry about," he reassured her.
"I don't want to be a bad mother . . ." she sighed, thinking of the support Hilda had from their father when she was raising Justin. The more she thought about it, the more reservations she had about leaving her child in the hands of a stranger – even if it was only for a few hours a day. "Betty, you're going to be a strong, incredible mother who our son or daughter will admire and adore just as much as I always have," he insisted as the carriage halted. "Really?" she timidly asked as Daniel stepped onto the ground.
"Really. Now no more anxiety – tonight is supposed to be stress-free and fun," he lifted her down. "Close your eyes, take a deep breath, and relax," he commanded.
Betty followed his instructions as Daniel slowly peeled off the blindfold. "Open your eyes," he told her, no longer able to resist the suspense. Betty carefully lifted her eyelids. "Shut! Up!" she exclaimed, taking in the sight. "Welcome to our wedding venue!" Daniel boyishly grinned.
"Shut! Up! Are you serious?" Betty exclaimed in disbelief, shoving Daniel's chest so hard he almost lost his balance. His smile widened into a huge grin, loving her reaction. It was just how he imagined it – so overly enthusiastic . . . so poignant . . . so . . . Betty. "Oh my god! Daniel . . ." she tried to contain her tears.
"It's – it's more than I could ever have imagined . . . How did you pull it off with such short notice?" she inquired, taking in the spectacular 19th Century Gothic castle with its enormous courtyard and beautiful pond. "Let's just say it pays to have connections and a little extra cash," he winked. "And the charm of a prince . . ." she added, her arms encircling him in a loving embrace. "Anything for my princess," he rested his cheek on the top of her head, breathing her scent in as they stood still in the moment.
"Have I told you how much I love you?" Betty coyly asked. "Maybe once or twice . . ." Daniel gently teased. Betty reached up and brought his lips down to hers. "I love you," she sincerely told him, resting her forehead on his. "I love you, too," he gazed lovingly into her brown eyes. Clearing his throat, he pulled away, knowing they had an appointment to keep with the planner. "Come on, your future kingdom awaits," he said as he guided her towards the courtyard.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
"He didn't! Ye mean he finally got off his dumb pampered arse and followed ye to London?" Christina exclaimed over the phone. "He did – and he proposed!" Betty giggled. "Well, maybe he isn't such a numptie after all," Christina begrudgingly admitted. "Christina! Be nice!" Betty scolded her.
"Sorry, love. I'm just lookin' out fer ye. We both know how he treated ye recently. But I'm happy ye and Daniel are back together. So when's the big day? Have ye found the perfect dress yet? 'Cause I'll gladly make one fer ye," Christina eagerly inquired. "Oh, thank you. But unfortunately I don't think you'd have enough time – it's in June," Betty replied, picking up a box, beginning to cart it into the dining room.
"Jesus, Betty! What's the rush? Ooooooo! Ye don't have a bun in the oven, do ye?" she guessed. Betty nearly dropped the box. "Betty! Put that down! You shouldn't be lifting anything in your condition," Daniel ordered, overly concerned. Betty shot daggers at him and gestured for him to zip his mouth. ". . . Uh – Christina, I've gotta go – I have to deal with something that just won't shut up . . . I'll call you back later with more details," Betty tried to save herself before Christina figured it out.
"Daniel! You knew I was on the phone – what the hell were you thinking? Christina's not dense, like Amanda – she was this close to figuring it out already - and I'm sure she did if she heard you!" she exclaimed, slamming the box down on the coffee table. "I'm sorry – I'm just worried about you. They say pregnant women shouldn't lift anything . . ." he defended his concern for her. Betty softened.
"Babe, I appreciate your looking after me, but I think I can handle a five pound box," she smirked. "But if it makes you feel any better, I'll leave the lifting to you and start with the unpacking," she added, opening a box of kitchen utensils and placing them in the canister.
"I still can't believe you talked me into this place – and that the seller wanted to close so fast. The title agency must not have had much business lately," she said, making the long trek to the gourmet kitchen complete with stainless steel appliances, dark cherry cabinets, and granite countertops. "Although, I'm sure it's not every day that they deal with multi-million dollar transactions," she reasoned.
"You said you loved it – that it was your dream house?" Daniel put down a box with confusion in his eyes as she came back to the formal living room with large windows, white crown molding, wainscoting, wood-burning fireplace, and built-in book cases. "I do – I could fit my entire Manhattan apartment in the living and dining rooms," she threw up her arms in amazement. Over 3,300 square feet was like a mansion compared to anywhere she'd lived in New York.
"But that's not the point. We can't afford it – this is Notting Hill – one of the most expensive areas in London – and we've got a wedding to pay for on top of it," she replied. "Betty, you're forgetting that I'm a Meade. We can definitely afford it. And if we somehow wind up in trouble, I'll just sell one of my vacation properties," he assured her. "But –" she protested.
"Yeah, I know. You want to contribute – and you will. After your magazine takes off, I highly doubt we'll be strapping for cash. Plus, I haven't even found a job yet – more revenue there. Baby, you have nothing to worry about," he reassured her. Betty sighed. "You're right – I'm too practical . . . too independent . . . too cautious . . ." she admitted.
"Yep," he agreed with a mischievous smirk. "What do you mean 'yep'? You're supposed to tell me I'm perfect just the way I am," she mocked offense. "Hey, you wanted an honest relationship . . ." he grinned, his blue eyes twinkling. She rolled her eyes. "Get back to work!" she playfully smacked his ass and started back over to the stack of unopened boxes for the first floor.
"Hey," Daniel caught her arm. "What?" she wondered. "Are you really happy here? Tell me the truth," he pulled her towards him. Betty gently put her hands on his chest. "Yes, I am . . . I'm just scared, that's all," she replied, knowing that probably didn't ease his mind any, but since they were being honest, might as well . . . "Of what? We're not going to lose the house –" he gave her a perplexed look.
"No – just of everything. This isn't just a house – it's our life now. This – it's my dream – ever since I was a little girl . . . Well maybe not you specifically, but a husband, children, a great job, nice house . . . I'm just waiting for the other shoe to drop . . . for it all to come crashing down . . ." she revealed, dropping her gaze to the dark hardwood floor.
"And I thought I was the cynical one," he chuckled. "Look, Betty you can't go through life like that and really live it. I don't know what took the spunk out of you, but I miss it," he lifted her chin and kissed her nose. "Sorry . . . I think it's just hormones and all that's happened in the past month or so . . ." she apologized.
"It's okay – sometimes I feel like I have to pinch myself, too. Being with you, creating another life with you – it's more than I ever could have hoped for," he traced her jawline with his finger. He wished there was a way to erase all her doubt, but no one could predict the future. All he knew was that he would always be by her side, through anything that happened.
"Let's enjoy this – right here, right now . . . Okay?" he whispered, softly brushing his lips against hers. "Okay," she smiled, hugging him. "Aaah!" she squealed as he spontaneously lifted her into his arms. "Daniel! We're supposed to be unpacking!" she giggled.
"Later! I think we have bigger tasks to accomplish right now . . ." he nibbled on her ear. "Really? Like what?" she coyly asked. "Like breaking-in our new king-size mattress on our new bed . . ." he suggested before the doorbell rang. "Aww . . . our first visitor in our new home," Betty smiled as Daniel carried her closer to the door so she could open it.
"Newlyweds?" the FedEx worker assumed. "No – soon, though," Betty replied, affectionately looking up at Daniel. "Just practicing," Daniel smiled back. "Well, congratulations, then . . . I have a delivery for Daniel Meade?" he motioned to the large box beside him and held out an electronic signer.
"Oh! That's me," Daniel answered, putting Betty down and signing for the package. "Thank you," they said as the man left. "Were you expecting something?" she asked. "Actually . . . I was," he said, dragging the box into the two-story foyer and searching for the scissors.
"What is it?" she curiously peeked inside the styrofoam-filled box. "You'll see . . . it's just a little something I thought our newest family member could use . . ." he ambiguously replied, removing the object from the box and undoing the bubble-wrapping. "Daniel, it's beautiful!" she exclaimed, when he revealed a dark-stained wooden rocking horse with a light green saddle cushion.
"It was mine, when I was a kid . . . I called to get it out of storage and had it re-finished and re-upholstered," he explained. "It looks great, doesn't it?" he beamed, admiring the work that was done. "It's amazing . . . and I love it even more because it was yours. Our baby will love it," she stared at him in awe. "You think so?" he asked, placing his hand on her stomach. "What do you think? Daddy did good, didn't he?" she looked down at her belly, laying her hand on top of his.
"Did you know he or she's about the size of a grain of rice right now?" Daniel looked down at Betty. "How did you know that?" she asked, surprised. ". . . I've been doing some reading," he smiled proudly. "For someone who's unemployed, you've been a pretty busy boy – castles, mansions, rocking horses, baby research . . . Look at you – you're so cute. You're really getting into this, aren't you?" she smiled. "I guess I am," he affectionately kissed her forehead and pulled her into him.
"So. You wanna go finish what we started . . .?" she mischievously looked up at him. "What – unpacking?" he assumed. "If that's what you really want . . ." she coyly bit her bottom lip, toying with the buckle of his belt. "Race you upstairs!" he grinned, darting towards the curved staircase.
"Hey! No fair – you cheated!" she protested as she caught up with him on the first landing. "Aaah!" she squealed as he swept her off of her feet. "Now we both win," he playfully wriggled his eyebrows, carrying her the rest of the way. "Definitely . . ." she agreed, fingering the hair at the nape of his neck before sinking her lips into his.