Sorry for the delay, I've had a bit of writer's block and other life projects have gotten in the way (good things). I've got a few other chapters written, but still working on ironing out their plot lines. Not sure when I will post again, so thanks for your continued support. Especially my reviewers and previewers. Your words of encouragement are priceless!
In this continuation of Grace's diary entry for July 5th, you will notice that her writing continues to be in bold/italics, but dialogue/interactions between her and Oliver while she writes is just normal font. Some thought processes may just be in italics but not to0 many of them in this chapter.
Hope you enjoy this chapter! Thanks and God Bless!
"Grace," whispered Oliver as he poked his head around Annie's door. He immediately saw his two girls in the now familiar rocking chair with Grace gently rocking back and forth with her eyes closed. Sandy who was sitting close to Grace's feet perked his head up to see the intruder, but when he realized who it was returned to his previous position. Oliver then noticed that Grace was not only flanked by Sandy in the front but by two folding tables by her sides. The picture before him was quite comically yet it was a fortress that would be hard for him to maneuver around for a kiss or two.
Then as he drew closer, he realized that his temptress was watching him under hooded lids as he walked quietly behind them. Once he reached the chair she tilted her head up ever so slightly for him to place a tender kiss upon her lips. Oliver then looked down to see Annie's hand fisting Grace's blouse for dear life as she slept. Awkwardness soon settled over Oliver and he instinctively reached out for the book on the table to flip through it, but with lighting speed Grace snatched it out of his hands without disturbing Annie.
"OLIVER, this is my diary!" softly exclaimed Grace.
"Oh … sorry," replied a chagrinned Oliver. He then noticed the discarded pen on the same table, and fingered it.
"Oliver, look at me," whispered Grace, "I'm sorry for grabbing my diary so abruptly … it's just … well …"
"Grace, I know what a diary is, Annabelle had one," softly grinned an ornery Oliver.
"Mhmm, and I bet you snuck a peak a few times especially with that wicked look."
"Me?!" responded Oliver with a Cheshire cat grin.
"Yes, you, my handsome rogue!"
However, their banter quickly stopped as Annie started to thrash around a bit on Grace's lap causing her grip on Grace's shirt to intensify which also provided Oliver a peep show. This instantly had Oliver's blood rushing to another anatomy part, but he instantly chastised himself and looked away. Grace on the other hand hadn't noticed as she soothed Annie with back rubs and sweet nothings in her ear. Once, Annie was lulled back to sleep her grip on Grace's blouse loosened, but not without Grace realizing what just occurred. It was confirmed when she glanced at Oliver's red tipped ears which in turn caused her face to flame a deep red.
When they were both able to overcome their embarrassment their eyes immediately found the other's as they shared a self-conscious grin. Grace not wanting their private moment as a family of three to end, opened her diary to her recent entry and handed it over to Oliver to glance at as she stated, "I wanted to capture down the events of today for future reference. I am sure that Annie will want to revisit today's meeting at some point in the near future. So, when Aaron returned to check on Annie and I, he discovered that I was immobilized by our pixie. So he kindly helped set up my folding tables, my diary, and this lousy pen that died on me about 15 minutes ago, so I would have something to do as Annie finally succumbed to her emotional exhaustion."
"Aaron? Who's Aaron?" whispered Oliver with a slight lilt of jealousy.
"Calm down my Casanova," softly grinned a pleased Grace as she placed a tender kiss to Oliver's palm before continuing, "He's one of the baby faced under-footmen in training. He's about 17 or 18, darling, and sees Annie as a kid sister. Last week, he joined Annie during her tennis lessons so she would have someone closer to her age to play against."
"Oh," Oliver replied with the tips of his ears flaming again.
"Oliver, grab one of those chairs over there and another pen for me, or better yet take Annie and we can all move over to that sofa," Grace instructed as she pointed to the loveseat in Annie's room.
"Are you sure she won't wake up?" whispered a concerned Oliver.
"No, she's dead weight Oliver," Grace stated as she started to pull Annie's hand from her blouse as she tucked it around her doll. Oliver then shooed Sandy up before he deftly scooped Annie into his arms as he moved over toward the loveseat. Initially there was a moment of hesitation on Oliver's part as to what to do next, because he really didn't want to relinquish his hold on Annie; but, his ever perceptive Grace had already acknowledged his need as a daddy to cuddle his cherub too, because instead of taking Annie back into her arms like she craved, she skillfully assisted him, as he sat down with their precious cargo.
Grace then went back to retrieve one of her folding tables, two new pens, and her diary. Once she returned to Oliver and Annie, she handed him her diary and pens so she could sit down beside them in on swift move as she unfolded her table in front of her. Grace then took the two new pens from Oliver and opened her diary back up to her recent entry (July 5th, 1933) for Oliver to read.
While Oliver started to skim over her entry she nimbly raised Annie's legs up onto her lap as she molded into Oliver's side. Sandy noticing his family was settled in on the sofa stealthily strolled over in front of Oliver to return to his protective position in front of his distressed mistress. Both adults shared a knowing look that Sandy's protective skills were very keen toward their little redhead. Oliver then returned his focus back toward Grace's diary as she tenderly brushed some of Annie's red locks out of her face.
Then once, Oliver had finished her entry he handed the diary back while softly stating, "You better get that photographic memory working again, because I agree having today's events written down will serve us better in the future when this little firecracker wants to reminisce about the Bennetts. And, by the way I'm the lucky one!" Oliver winked on his last declaration before he started to nuzzle Annie's head. He then took his free arm and wrapped it around Grace, who tenderly kissed him on the cheek as happiness radiated off her.
"I think you are right darling, but I've come prepared this time with two pens encase one fails me again," cheekily stated Grace before returning her attention back toward her last paragraph which was interrupted by the loss of ink.
Hmm, now where was I?
She then pulled out a few of the wrapped items in order to uncover a handmade writing lap desk. It was actually Mr. Donatelli that explained what it was indicating that it appeared to be a replica of Thomas Jeffers
Oh, yes, Mr. Donatelli's explanation about the writing lap desk.
Jefferson's writing desk. Mrs. McGuire confirmed his suspicions as she grabbed a small hand bag that was lying beside the writing desk. She then dumped the contents of the bag to reveal a small key that fit into the locked drawer of the writing desk.
Bessie, then Mrs. McGuire handed me … me mind you … Margaret's key. I remember when she handed it to me, I felt like we entered this surreal bubble … it felt monumental like a rite of passage or something. I can't explain it, Bessie, I just remember as my shaking hands held the key, I slowly turned my eyes toward Oliver as we shared a tender moment … I really can't explain it … it just felt like all the planets had aligned again. Mrs. McGuire didn't miss our look either as she soon joined our bubble while cupping both of our cheeks in her hands as she stated, "Deys would be proud and happy dat deir lamb is in such good hands."
Bessie, just when I thought I had my tear ducts under control again their flood gates reopened; however, this time I wasn't the only one crying as Oliver allowed his tears to finally cascade down his cheeks as well. Mrs. McGuire then gestured for me to open the drawer with the key while Oliver held the writing desk up for me as my trembling hands unlatched the lock. Again, I felt like we were in this dreamlike vortex of swirling emotions of awe, wonder, love, sorrow, and surrealism where we were finally going to have a glimmer of the Bennetts through their work of art. When I looked up into Oliver's eyes, Bessie, I could see the same emotions swirling around in his eyes. It was invigorating yet at the same time part of me felt that we were intruding, and that's when I looked up at Mrs. McGuire one more time to receive her permission.
"Da lamb will have her chance'ta look soon, but dis is filled with Margaret's notes'ta Annie, and David's portfolio of sketches he drew of da lamb and her friends at da orphanage."
My inner child suddenly had the courage I needed to continue my task, because I suddenly had a burst of excitement to see more pictures of Annie as a child. So little by little, I pulled the drawer open as it slowly revealed two neatly stacked leather portfolios (one a bit smaller than the other). Upon, further inspection, as I gently removed them from their resting place, I noticed the intricate work on both pieces … they were absolutely breath taking. Both of them had the Celtic Claddagh and knot symbols delicately imprinted on them in addition to their initials.
"Me David lovin'ly created both of dese for himself and me Margaret. Ya see dey didn't have da money for blank paper books for deir notes or sketches, sos dey would use different types of scrap paper or stationary dat dey found. Twas Margaret's idea for da larger binder for David's sketches, but he made her one for deir first Christmas, at me house, for her notes."
When I carefully withdrew them from the drawer my hands were shaking again, Oliver quickly yet gently set the writing desk down then he hastily stood up to assist Mrs. McGuire and myself to the table in the sitting room. He then motioned for Mr. Donatelli to join us. I remember giving him a rebuffed look initially for inviting Mr. Donatelli into our little bubble of surrealism; but, he silently told me it was necessary for him to understand the Bennetts so he could rectify the wrongs which were occurring in the orphanage since Miss Hannigan took over.
Bessie, have I told you yet how invigorating it is that I can now communicate with Oliver on a whole new level!?
Anyway, we slowly lifted our eyes again to Mrs. McGuire in silent query (that is, asking for her permission to proceed and open the Bennetts' leather binders). She in turn, with a twinkle in her eye, nodded her consent.
Bessie, the notes to Annie! She addressed them to her 'Little Pixie!' There were about 30 short notes, no more than five paragraphs long, to Annie that were very random in their dates, storylines, and themes. We only skimmed over a few of her notes, because I for one felt like I was intruding. I also knew that with her handwriting in cursive, Miss Annie, wouldn't be able to read the notes on her own for a while so I knew I would be reading them with her if she requested it. I also wanted to give my tear ducts a reprieve, because the first few notes were about how Margaret regretted her downfall and how it left her family destitute. Plus, just like me, Oliver wanted to see the sketches of Annie as a younger child.
Oh Bessie, we were not disappointed! The sketches of our little minx or should I say pixie were breath taking, and if we weren't already mesmerized by the sketches in graphite and pen, Mrs. McGuire's statement that David sketched them from memory was even more mind boggling. The drawings started off with Annie as a child in the orphanage, and slowly descended into her infancy. The ones that had me memorized, at least, were the ones of Margaret/Annie, David/Annie, and all three of them together. He did it as if the scenes were reflected from a window or a mirror.
My hands were shaking so badly, Bessie, but after we came to the last sketch the old grandfather clock struck the next hour causing all of us to look up a bit startled! Had we truly stayed in the office for that long?! Leapin' Lizards! Oliver and I both shared a look of bewilderment that our little minx hadn't come looking for us. Then a small mischievous grin spread on Oliver's face with a slight twinkle in his eye. He then shared his thought, "She's probably holding FDR hostage with her charm and hero worshipping."
"Oliver! That's not nice to say about our daughter! He's probably enjoying her audience, and trying to corrupt her away from your Republican views. I'm sure he sees her as your heiress and has her convinced to donate half your fortune to the Government already," I cheekily responded stunning Oliver into astonishment, as our two guests attempted to stifle guffaws at his expression, however, I must say I wasn't able to control mine!
Then Oliver playfully attempted to give me his death glare, but it only unleashed my uncontrolled belly laugh. He soon joined me in addition to Mrs. McGuire and Mr. Donatelli. When our laughs finally subsided an awkward calm blanketed us, then Oliver and I silently agreed that Annie needed to be retrieved for the next phase of Mrs. McGuire's visit. As we both excused ourselves from the room to retrieve Annie, we offered both of our guests the refreshments which we stumbled upon outside the sitting room's doors. We also stated that we would take a few minutes to freshen up before we rejoined them, and they were free to do the same!
Oliver then led me toward one of the large powder rooms on the main floor. I remember thinking I need to invest in more flat shoes because between Annie's daily dashes of enthusiasm and Oliver's long purposeful strides my heels will never last me more than a week nor my feet. Oliver then slammed the powder room door closed as he hoisted me up onto the vanity to ravish my body and lips, but just like this morning after receiving a delicious sample he pulled abruptly away. Thank goodness he explained himself this morning or I'd have had another ding to my pride when his mouth and hands suddenly departed from my body.
Bessie, then I saw it, he was losing control of his emotions, his wall of self-perseveration had finally been sieged. I immediately opened my arms up to him as he gladly engulfed me into a tight embrace as startling sobs were unleashed … which mind you, he's probably had stored up since childhood.
On a side note, Bessie, I am sure Annie and his life parallel each other in many ways. I remember thinking, thank goodness I was sitting down so I could better support his weight as he crumbled in my arms for over 10 minutes. Bessie, in that moment I knew I had to be the strong one, and compose myself enough to retrieve Annie from the dining room without alerting her or our family and friends of the continued turmoil surrounding three of us.
Bessie, how did I lull Oliver's emotional mayhem? By doing what felt natural, by caressing his bald head and rubbing his back in a soothing motion, as I alternated between murmuring sweet nothings in his ear and providing him with loving kisses to his temple.
Have I failed to mention yet that this week has been a whirlwind?! That is, one minute I'm only Oliver's secretary bringing home an orphan for a much needed PR move and now I'm his fiancée! I mean Bessie, I'm finally getting a few of my lifetime wishes this week. And you know I'm still reeling over Oliver's revelation that he's always viewed me more than his secretary but never acted on his feelings until now[NN1] . Another wish that's come true this week is finally becoming Annie's mommy; but, I never dreamed my wishes would be paired with all these raw emotions as well. Let's just say, I sure hope that the rest of the week leading up to our marriage goes smoothly, but I highly doubt it (at the rate we are going).
"I would hope so too," Oliver whispered in Grace's ear sending a shiver down her spine, "Let's just pray no more drama like this occurs, that is, let's not look for trouble before it happens." Oliver finished as he kissed Grace behind her ear, right before she turned her head to give him a sideways glance.
"So, now you've been reading over my shoulder Mr. Warbucks? Tsk, tsk. Well, you know there is a required payment for intruding on a girl's secret thoughts and feelings," impishly whispered Grace as she leaned her head closer to Oliver's lips.
Oliver responded cheekily to Grace's nonverbal request by ever so slightly pulling back his head away from her lips. "Oh really, I was under the impression that today's entry was fair game since I've read half of it," Oliver softly huffed.
Grace squinted her eyes in mocked surprised. "Oliver, really I think a man of with your business sense would never presume anything! What have you always said, 'Miss Farrell assumptions can lead to devastating mistakes that can be very costly!'" Grace sassed back earning a playful growl from Oliver before his lips descended on hers. Once, they both came back up for air, Grace breathlessly gave Oliver permission to continue reading over her shoulder before returning her focus back to her diary.
Soooo, once Oliver's sobs subsided, I continued to pepper him with soothing kisses until he raised his head from the crook of my neck. He then planted soft tender kisses to my lips before he placed his forehead on mine. I then lovingly cupped his head in my hands as I stated, "We will talk about this later." He conceded with a silent nod, understanding my underlying meaning that we would be opening the old doors to his past so I could fully understand the man I was marrying this upcoming weekend.
Grace turned ever so slightly after writing this statement down to gage Oliver's response to it; however, the only responses he continued to give to her were occasional humphs, supportive caresses, and sporadic nuzzles of love which he was alternating between her and Annie.
"Just for the record, I was honored as well as humbled this morning when you loved me enough to share your pain with me," whispered Grace as she starred at her diary for courage as she stated her mind.
Oliver again nuzzled his head with hers but then started to nibble on her ear which caused her breath to hitch before he replied, "Your welcome, and for the record, I can't remember a time where I've ever felt so much love and security to allow the flood gates to unleash. I-I-It was cathartic and liberating as well. I hope that makes sense?"
"Oh yes, Oliver," quietly stated a pleased Grace before she placed a chaste kiss on his lips, "but you're still not off the hook." Oliver acknowledged her innuendo from earlier about sharing his past with her soon, then nudged her attention back toward her diary.
Once, we both freshened up a bit, we left the sanctuary of the powder room, and headed in opposite directions (Oliver to return to our guests, and I to retrieve our chatterbox). Let's just say, I know my Annie, but I'm not sure who was holding court, her or FDR; however, always being perceptive, Annie didn't hesitate to leave FDR's side when she saw me enter the dining room.
Bessie, I felt like I was leading Annie into another lion's den, and I wasn't sure if she would come out of it as unscathed as she did the other day when we reviewed her file with her. This news wasn't just going to leave her sad that her parents were truly dead, but it was going to cause her unbearable heartache when she realized that they were there for her until their deaths (that is, in the background and loving her when they could but not wanting to suck her into a life of poverty). I wasn't sure if our precocious ten year old would be able to fully grasp the sacrifice the Bennetts made … I know, I for one would have rather lived in rags with my parents than that orphanage. My hope, Bessie, was that we (that is, Mrs. McGuire, Oliver, and I) would be able to help take the sting out of the news.
I remember hearing, "Mom, what is it?" before we entered the Mediterranean study. Bessie, I tried to plaster on an encouraging smile, but I think it came out more as a grimace. Instantly, I saw my daughter's disposition of concern change to guarded. I had to prep her before we went into the 'lion's den of truth,' so I pulled her over to a nearby bench as I invited her to sit on my lap. She immediately took a seat and tucked her head under my chin.
"Annie, dear, you're going to meet a lovely lady, Mrs. McGuire, who knew your parents."
"My parents?!"
"Yes, your first parents, Margaret and David Bennett." Oh Bessie, I felt my baby girl go ridged in my arms as if she was steeling herself for a letdown, a battle, or who knows what! All I know is that I just wanted to cocoon her from any more pain, so I instantly wrapped her up into a tight yet loving hug; and, within a minute I felt her relax into my body. I vaguely recall the background noises that were floating around our cocoon of support and safety (that is, our family and friends leaving the dining room to enter different rooms, Cecile and Annette's whispered voices, then the click of the study's door, and footsteps coming toward us).
"Grace? Annie?" inquired a concerned Oliver as he knelt down in front of us. His perplexed yet concerned face was so adorable that I couldn't help myself as I tenderly stroked it for a second.
Then a timid voice whispered, "Daddy, mommy said that the ol' lady, Mrs. McGuire, use'ta know my otha … I mean my first parents, Margaret and David."
"Yes, Annie, your mom is right … Annie, you know how we had that 'man to man' talk a few days ago?" stated Oliver awkwardly as Annie hesitantly nodded. I knew Oliver was trying to prepare Annie as well, but he too was struggling to find the right words and anxiously rubbed the back of his neck. In one swift move I grabbed that hand and tenderly took it into mine, we then shared a supportive look before I continued his monologue.
"Annie, I'm not sure what your 'man to man' talk was about, but what Mrs. McGuire is going to tell you about your folks. The news may be hard to grasp and quite frankly very upsetting for a number of reasons. Just know that your daddy and I will be with you the entire time, and that you are not alone in this. We love you and would do anything in our power to prevent any more pain involving your past; but, just know this as well, the Bennetts loved you just as much and did everything in their power to return to you. The locket and the note were not a fabrication, but they truly intended to readopt you when their circumstances were better."
"Mom, you said a lot of big words again!" Annie huffed.
"What your mom was trying to say so delicately, Annie, is … w-w-well, your parents were never too far from your side … that is, up until their deaths. They just had a lot of medical bills that sent them to the poor house and weren't able to take care of you properly …" trailed of Oliver as he looked around the area. When he noticed a few eavesdroppers he suggested, "girls, let's take this into the study."
Annie initially looked at Oliver with a hint of doubt and sorrow before taking his offered hand, after he stood up. She then turned her troubled eyes toward me as she extended her other hand out for me to take. However, before I accepted it I cupped her face in both my hands and said, "Annie, I want you to know that you are not alone in this, your daddy and I will be there every step of the way." I then shared with her an Eskimo kiss to seal my promise before I grabbed her offered hand. Oliver gave both of us a comforting wink and supportive grin before the three of us entered the lion's den together, as a united front.
Oh Bessie, I could feel Annie's anxiousness as we drew near to the sofa, I also caught her eyes flickering toward the trunks, small dresser, and the scattered items laying on the floor and desk. Bessie, this is when I knew some of her innocence had already been robbed because most young children would have lost the battle of curiosity and skipped over to discover the treasures the trunks and dresser contained; but, no Miss Hannigan stole that from Annie and the other girls! So instead my little cherub sat stoically between Oliver and me, after we introduced her to Mrs. McGuire.
During the 'sugarcoated' version of the Bennetts' demise, Mrs. McGuire took the lead and only needed our assistance a few times. I, for one, can say that outwardly Annie appeared very calm and collected, but the vise grip she had on my hand confirmed the inner turmoil she was experiencing throughout Mrs. McGuire's monologue.
Oh Bessie, the worst was yet to come, after the monologue, Annie's eyes slid back over toward the trunks and dresser; and, almost like in a trance, Annie's eyes soon glazed over as she slowly stood up to move toward them. Mrs. McGuire, then gradually boosted herself up from the adjacent chair to move next to Annie. She then sat down on the ottoman she used earlier with us as she gazed at Annie's dull eyes. Annie then looked up at her with silent permission to touch each item. Mrs. McGuire agreed in silence as she picked up an item for added encouragement. Then Annie turned toward Oliver and me as she glanced toward the space near her as a mute invitation to join her.
Once Oliver and I had established ourselves on the floor next to Annie, our little girl slowly picked up one of Margaret's packages. Then those sweet knobby hands assisted with the twine that bound the paper around the item. Once the paper was removed the most adorable rag doll was revealed. "Dis, is Raggedy Ann, me Margaret always dought it was fittin' dat her Annie have one of dese. She'd say what irony dat dere twas a book 'bout a redheaded Ann out dere."
Annie, just kept looking at it for the longest time, Bessie. She then squinted her eyes almost like she was trying to remember something. Annie then did the most peculiar thing, she raised the doll up to smell it. When she removed her face from the doll, her eyes were shining with unshed tears as she looked toward Mrs. McGuire. "Yes, me lamb dat is da doll ya got from me David and me Margaret dat last Christmas 'fore Miss Hannigan arrived. Me David found it in a pawn shop not one week afta she took o'er. He bought it back for ya 'cause your mama put so much love inta it."
Oliver started to wonder if Grace's emotions were getting to her as her penmanship began to slowly decline over the course of the last few paragraphs; but, the hitch to her breath and a few splashes of tears on the paper solidified his suspicions that today's chaos was finally impacting her. "Grace, it's okay to fall apart … I'll catch you, like you did for me earlier," tenderly whispered Oliver.
His only response was a sideways glance and a half smile as silent tears continued to cascade down her cheeks. Oliver then reached into his pocket to retrieve another handkerchief eliciting a soft chuckle from Grace as she gladly accepted it. "I believe I will be keeping the handkerchief company I own. If anything, I'll keep it afloat!" teased Oliver with a twinkle in his eye.
Oliver's soft belly laugh caused Annie to stir, but to her parents' relief she continued to slumber on with her nose buried in her doll and Oliver's polo shirt. Grace gave Oliver a once over to not only gage his comfort level with the task of soothing Annie back to sleep, but also to silently appraise his attire again. He's finally let loose a bit (per Annie); that is to say, he's actually dressed very casual today instead of in one of his stiff business suits! Very sexy indeed!
Oliver caught the appraising satisfied gleam when he met Grace's eyes. His ears went immediately red, but soon both adults had to look away as their eyes started to spark with desire. "Oh Oliver, are you s-s-s-sure we j-just can't pack up Annie and Sandy in the D-D-Duesenburg and dash away to get married?" quietly trembled Grace, due to the lilt of desire laced in her voice.
"Grace, look at me," softly pleaded Oliver, "I would do that in a heartbeat, but I think you of all people deserve the fairytale wedding. Plus, I think Annie would be highly disappointed if she wasn't your flower girl."
Grace just looked over at Oliver and whispered, "I've never wanted a fairytale wedding just the man I gave my heart to so long ago." She sealed her last comment with a kiss before impishly stating, "Besides, I'm not sure our fairytale would be Cinderella … I'd say it's more like Beauty & the Beast."
This caused Oliver to softly growl in Grace's ear before he finally succumbed to his amusement with a soft snort. Their amused eyes met again before Oliver flicked his eyes back to Grace's diary as a silent hint to continue with her writing. A soft sigh and a playful roll of her eyes, Grace agreed and returned her attention back to the task at hand.
Bessie, I was reeling and so was Oliver when we shared a look after this revelation. I had to keep telling myself to be strong for Annie even though I wanted to break with her. The only thing I could do was rub her back in support to tell her quietly that I was there for her. She slowly acknowledged my love and support as she started to lean into my side for comfort.
Then as a silent tear escaped from her eyes, she replied to Mrs. McGuire, "I kinda rememba'em," as she turned her attention back to us before continuing, "that picture in the file, I couldn't place'em but I knew, I knew'em; and, not 'cause they were my long lost folks. They were the nice man and lady that were 'round a lot, he was always fixin' things, and she helped Miss Turner a lot. They gave all of us hugs and kisses before they left each day. Sometimes …" trailed off Annie with a forlorn look to her face.
"What is it Annie?" questioned Oliver as we both sat on pins and needles.
Annie, attempted to nonchalantly shrug off her next statement but failed miserably, "I don't know, sometimes I felt like they liked me a bit more, but most orphans feel that way when they get extra attention or special treatment. But they n-n-never t-tried t-t-t-to ad-dopt m-m-me as a k-k-kid.
"T-t-hen again, I w-was always adamit that my folks would return for me," tearfully stated Annie as she gazed up at Oliver and me. We both shared a look that stated this was not the time nor the place to correct her attempt to say another 'large word' like 'adamant' during her dialogue. However, it was sweet in a way, because it appeared as though she was still comfortable enough, with us, that she could continue to attempt to build her vocabulary even during this most sorrowful, melancholy time.
While Oliver and I were sharing our silent tête–à–tête, Annie apparently had returned her focus back toward Mrs. McGuire and Raggedy Ann. Because I soon heard the rickety old brogue again as well as someone taking in deep breaths through her nose. "Ah, da olfactory tis a powerful sense," started Mrs. McGuire as she ran her knobby hands through Annie's curls, "be a sweet lass and grab me dat small wood box on da bottom of dis here trunk. Dank ya love." Bessie, I think all three of us were holding our breaths as we awaited the unveiling of the contents within the box. As she removed the lid, vials of corked oils and fragrances were revealed. Then Mrs. McGuire pulled out one of the bottles and handed it over to Oliver to uncork it. Oliver then slowly manipulated the cork off the vial, one because it appeared it had a tough seal and two not to spill its contents, "Me David, was very inventive twhen it came'ta containers. Dese twere me Margaret's … twhat's da word … ah, samplers, dey twere da ones she used twhen she twas makin' new bottles. She didn't want da oils and perfumes'ta dry up on her, sos me David created dese special corks'ta prevent dat from happenin'. I knows I check on dese several times a year." Once, Oliver was able to uncork the smell Mrs. McGuire tilted her head toward Annie, "Take a whiff of dat me dear, tis it da smell dats lingerin' on yours doll?" Annie, then took a big whiff of the oil and instantly had tears in her eyes. Mrs. McGuire took out another vial and again handed it to Oliver as she said, "Yes your olfactory tis workin' well'ta help yours young memory."
Annie, handed the bottle over to me once I started to rub her back in comfort. She silently pleaded with me to take a whiff as well. Oh Bessie, the smell was intoxicatingly sweet and pleasant, and as I was sniffing Margaret's scent, Oliver had handed Mrs. McGuire the other bottle. I then handed Oliver the bottle in my hand so he could smell it too, as Mrs. McGuire handed Annie the other uncorked bottle to whiff at the same time. Annie's unshed tears were all I needed to know that the vials of oil were unleashing forgotten memories of the Bennetts' care and love toward her. She then handed me a masculine scent that left no imagination that the owner who wore it was a bit rugged yet suave. "Tis me Margaret and David's scents, she rarely sold dem. Hers tis called, 'Mags Serendipity,' and his tis called, 'Heroic Spirit.' Dey both named da otha's fragrance. Da recipes tis o'er dere with da pictures; but, I believe 'Mags Serendipity' is a combination of orange, lavenda, and vanilla, and "Herioc Spirit' is a mixture of black pepper, cedar wood, orange, and sandalwood."
"Why'd she not sell'em, 'cause they're nice smells?" softly asked Annie, as I felt her curl into a self-defensive ball by my side for protection.
Bessie, I heard myself softly answer, as I cuddled her with all the love and support I could silently muster, "Because Annie, Mrs. McGuire is right, the olfactory which is also known as your smelling sense, is very powerful. It can 'drum up' many emotions and feelings when you get a whiff of a certain aroma. Your mother was a very clever and creative lady, she wouldn't want others to share what was uniquely hers and your father's. They were leaving … per se a scented clue so when they returned for you, you would know who they were or at least experience 'warm fuzzy feelings' when you whiffed their scents as they embraced your with all their love and devotion … that is, toward you, over the years in which you were separated from them."
Bessie, as I cupped Annie's face (in loving support in addition to thumbing away her silent tears) during my attempt to explain Margaret's purpose, I saw her disposition change from perplexed, to dawning, to even more melancholy, to hurt, and then all of a sudden in a blink of an eye I saw her self-preservation click in as she responded, "I think so … like how I know its daddy walking in because he always smells woodsy with a hint of citrus along with his cigar smoke, but mom you have four smells. You have Channel no. 5, Shalimar, Tabu, and Joy. Do you know what scents are in them? What's daddy's called, does it have a name too? Do you know what it's made out of too?"
Bessie, can we say my cheeks were turning a bright red, because it seemed Mrs. McGuire and Mr. Donatelli were going to be privy to some intimate information in order to help deflect some my daughter's turbulent emotions! Leapin' Lizards! I also realized in that moment, Oliver and Annie shared the same compartmentalizing trait that often occurs during intense emotional times in order to shield their tattered hearts from yet more pain by deflecting or changing the subject away from them. (That is, by diverting the attention elsewhere instead of the tough subjects in front of them; but, I decided to go along with Annie's avoidance scheme to give her some time to regroup before more secrets were revealed to us.)
"Humph, so she gets that trait from me, does she?" softly mocked Oliver, in an annoyed voice. Grace glanced toward Oliver with a knowing look, then quirked her eyebrow playfully in a challenging position. Oliver half chuckled and snorted his replay before Grace returned to her page.
"Yes, I have all four of those, but I am not sure what they are made out of my dear. The companies who produce them don't release their ingredients for fear of the other's stealing their recipes for profit. However, I can say, I wear Joy the most, these days."
"Yeah, I mean, yes, that's my favorite 'cause you smell like one of Mrs. Greer's bouquets. It's so re-re-refreshing, that's it! I betcha its made outta lot of different flower ar-aromas, " Annie cheekily grinned and replied before placing an Eskimo kiss on my nose, "But what's daddy's called and do'ya know what it's made out of too? I betcha his is real expensive, and one of a kind too!"
Dear Lord, Bessie, I've never felt so embarrassed in all my life.
"Well Annie, you're right about one of those thought processes, but it's definitely not outrageously priced as most people would think. When we go to Europe, I go to a little shop in France that specializes in creating unique blends for people. They have a file containing the cologne recipe they personally make for your daddy."
Bessie, if my mortification wasn't apparent before then, it was after Oliver playfully joined in the conversation.
"Grace, you're stalling my dear, what's the name of my cologne, and on a side note, I am sure Miss Annie would love to know the story behind the recipe?! Also, Annie, as you are learning very quickly, not everything that is expensively packaged turns out to be valuable or worth the cost in the end."
Bessie, my body was on fire from not only Oliver's double meaning but embarrassment too; BUT one look at Oliver's expression, which was a combination of mischievousness, gloating, and desire, I suddenly felt the urge to strip it off his face. I'm not sure what the other three in the room were doing, but I vaguely recall hearing Annie say "they've been doin' that a lot more these days … goin' inta their own little world of 'adult eye talk'."
A soft baritone chuckle pulled Grace's attention away from her writing, and even though she didn't turn her head toward Oliver, he knew he caught her attention. Because her pen which was about to start the next paragraph stopped in midair as if she was in thought, however, the goosebumps on her neck gave her away. Oliver then rested his chin on her shoulder then playfully nipped at her ear before murmuring, "Oh really?!"
"Oliver Warbucks, you don't play fair," softly hissed Grace as she attempted to control her erratic heart beat due to his nearness. Once she was able to calm down a bit she stated, "I could always move further away so you can't read over my shoulder."
This earned a playful pout from Oliver, but before he could retort Annie started to stretch from her nap. This earned a 'mama stink-eye' from Grace, but instead of feeling chastised Oliver had this overwhelming burst of delight, love, and satisfaction blanket over him. The contentment in his demeanor had a sobering effect on Grace who immediately shared a relaxed smile with him as they both turned their attention to Annie.
When Grace saw Annie start to thrash in her slumber, she put down her diary and pen on the folding table before turning her full attention back toward their daughter. She then began to sooth the tension lines on her forehead as she whispered sweet nothings to her. Before long Annie relaxed back into Oliver's side as she took a deep breath in and slowly expelled it out with, "M-M-Mommy-y-y a-a-nd d-d-daddy W-W-Warbucks." She soon drifted back to sleep with a peaceful look on her face.
Once Grace knew that Annie had drifted back to sleep she went back to retrieve her diary, but was stopped short by Oliver as his free hand caught her chin. "Grace, you never fail to amaze me," murmured Oliver as Grace immediately felt her cheeks flame causing her to naturally dip her head down due to the sudden feeling of shyness she felt from the foreign praise. "No look at me Grace, you are an amazing woman … not only are you the greatest business associate I've ever worked with, but in just over a week you have blossomed into a remarkable mother.
"The night after the movies, when I asked you how you learned to tuck Annie into bed, and you said I did it too … well, I was honored that you included me in that sentiment, but what I really meant to say was how you continue to astound me, even when I think I've figured you out. I mean in less than a week you were able to not only adapt to Annie's presence, but also continue to do your job efficiently well. Then slowly I saw the 'old vibrant' Grace come back to life with a twist of innate maternal skills, it was as if Annie had been around for years."
Grace beamed from Oliver's praise, "That's why I agreed to adopt her, I'll never forget that look of disappointment and how your whole disposition wilted in front of me. I was terrified I would completely lose you this time, but the stakes were even higher and in a blink of an eye I realized I would not only lose you but the family I desired to have with you which included our little pixie."
"Oh Oliver, thank you for sharing," sniffed Grace before she planted a tearful kiss on his lips. When they pulled up for air they both rested their foreheads together as they tenderly looked down at their ten year old.
"I'm so glad she's ours, Oliver. I know she's only been here for over a week, but it feels like a lifetime. I barely remember what the mansion felt like before her arrival. Cold, sterile? Are just a few descriptive words that come to mind, however, it now feels like a home because of her," whispered Grace as she lovingly toyed with one of Annie's unruly curls.
"I know what you mean, love," softly stated Oliver earning himself a giddy grin from Grace. They stayed in that position for another few minutes before Grace returned back to the task at hand, but not before warning Oliver to behave and let her finish capturing their visit with Mrs. McGuire. Oliver agreed begrudgingly to keep his comments, snorts, and flirtations to himself.
Now where was I … Oh yes!
"Fine!" I huffed in playful exasperation toward Oliver as I relented in sharing a bit of our history with two strangers and my daughter, "Annie, on one of our trips to Europe I discovered a little fragrance shop in France, owned by the Bessettes who create personal perfumes and colognes for their patrons. One of the first steps, Senor and Senora Bessette have their customers do is fill out a questionnaire about the persona of the recipient; however, at the time when I filled it out for your daddy, they were unaware of the person they were creating it for … so what your daddy is trying to impishly tell you, Annie, is that I named it."
"So, mom, what's it called and what's it made out of?"
Bessie, I could hear the amusement in our little girl's voice … so I knew her stall tactic was helping her rebuild her wall of self-preservation again. Oliver, also flicked a sly grin toward Annie as he answered, "Your mom, as you know Annie, has a sense of humor ... even at the beginning of our working relationship, it would occasionally pop up, out of nowhere. Annie, it's called 'Bellowing Fella,' and I'll have you know, Grace, I am very familiar with the shop, because they've done exceptionally well ever since I gave them permission to use my name."
"WHAT!?" I heard myself proclaim.
"Grace, tsk, you of all people should know by now that I have my ways of finding out where everything I own is purchased."
"Why yes Oliver, but I watch them make it personally each time, to specifically rule out any poisoning possibilities. Why do you think I go there each year myself to have it made for you personally?!"
However, our private tête-à-tête was again interrupted by our little minx, "So why'd ya pick out 'Bellowin' Fella,' mom?"
"Yes, Grace, why did you name it 'Bellowing Fella?'?" Oliver teased right after Annie's inquiry.
Bessie, I wasn't going to give Oliver the satisfaction of seeing another blush creep up on my cheeks, so I addressed Annie during my reply, "Annie, when the Bessette's create a cologne or a perfume for a specific individual, they concoct three small samples to test on the owner's skin to see which one mixes best with his/her natural skin oils. Sometimes a fragrance that smells good on one person isn't always pleasing on another because it blends different with each unique musk."
"Okay, I think I undastand … but where did you get the name 'Bellowin' Fella'?"
Bessie, I can already see for the rest of my life, those two are going to give me a run for my money. Let's just say one was giving me a perplexed yet amused look, and the bigger one had a sassy satisfied look on his.
"I'm getting there Annie, anyway, when I went to get your father's cologne made up, I wasn't expecting three samples. The Bessettes insisted that I have the gentleman in question sample each one on his skin to see which one suited him best.
"You see Annie, the whole reason I went there was because your father wore a cologne at the time, a very expensive one mind you, which was nauseating. It didn't suit him at all! Let's just say his reception to the samples were not pleasant, and he protested them by bellowing at me for at least 15 minutes. However, his bellowing set off my Irish temper by then because I wasn't in the habit of buying men cologne, and my only objective was to assist with his image so people didn't want to turn up their noses in disgust due to his aroma … NOT HIS SURLY AND MEAN BUSINESS DISPOSITION!"
"So what happened," inquired Annie with abated anticipation.
"I told her that my valet had suggested it to me because it was a new cologne out of India that the elites were all raving about in their circles; and, your mom said that she didn't care if it was imported from Mars because I stank like a skunk. She then pointed out that I would be wise to watch my European associates and their nonverbal cues during our next few meetings to see how repelling or appealing my aroma truly was to them."
Annie snickered on the skunk comment along with Mrs. McGuire, Bessie, it was quite adorable. I could tell Mrs. McGuire approved of our stall tactic, she may be old but she wasn't blind to see how tense and anxious Annie was becoming due to her olfactory skills igniting old memories with the Bennetts.
"So then what happened daddy Warbucks?"
"I took your mom's advice begrudgingly, and was humbly surprised, mind you, after your mom's enlightening assistance the day before, to find that a few of my colleagues were trying to covertly move their chairs away from me during our meetings. I also became quite irked by my valet that he would continue to persist that I use the foul cologne. "
Again, Annie snorted at Oliver's exasperated confession which was accompanied by his comically expressions of disbelief and bewilderment. Bessie, I then picked up where he left off, "Your daddy, in his usual way, 'caved' into my suggestion by placing his bare arm in front of my face two days later as I was typing up some of his notes. He then softly ordered me to pick the one I liked best, and to purchase it quickly because he already dumped the offending cologne down the toilet.
"Soooo still being a little miffed by your daddy, I gave him a bit of a 'stink eye' before I begrudgingly sniffed his arm. I then pointed to the one I liked best. He then handed me the vial that matched the fragrance I picked out, as he turned my chair around to silently order me to fetch his new cologne.
"When I returned to his European office with his new bottle of cologne, I marched straight up to his desk as he talked with the French Ambassador on the phone, as I gently slammed the bottle on the desk in front of him. I then waited for him to read the label, and once I knew he had, I did an about face and stalked out of his office like an annoyed soldier that just won a senseless victory."
Oliver looked like a school boy who wasn't sure if he should be chagrin or embarrassed at the memory. His look and my reply had the three of us girls and Mr. Donatelli chuckling, however, when the merriment died down, another tense calm blanketed the room causing Miss Annie to continue her avoidance tactics by inquiring more about Oliver's cologne.
"So, daddy, what did you think of the name mom picked out for your cologne?" fearlessly asked Annie.
"Well, Annie sometimes the most humbling answer is silence," answered Oliver as he turned his smoldering eyes toward me while adding suavely, "However, Annie, the name is a daily reminder that my favorite color can change rapidly from diamond blue to a shocking sea blue when ignited by my yelling."
Bessie, I didn't miss his hint that his favorite color IS blue (more specifically my eye color), and how they change to reflect my moods. However, Annie's precocious mind didn't give me much time to think about Oliver's comment because she still wanted more answers pertaining to his cologne.
"Hmmm, okay, but mom, what made you pick out that 'pacific one? And how did the Bas-Bas-Bas … those people figure out what smell went with daddy's oils?"
"Yes, Grace, do tell us why you picked this 'specific' scent?" cheekily responded Oliver as he raised his wrist toward my nose.
"Wel-l-l-l, A-Annie," I started with my face glowing with embarrassment as I realized I was going to be sharing another memento with two strangers again; but, Bessie something came over me especially pertaining to Mrs. McGuire, I wanted her to see a glimpse of the devotion and love I've always felt for Oliver, so I pushed on, even with my face flaming, "the Bessettes took my answers to their questionnaire, and before you ask, because I can see it written all over your face, the questions were about his personality. Somehow they were able to derive three different types of 'grooming experiences' which reflected your daddy's persona from my answers, and concocted three different fragrances that would not only enhance his natural musk but complement him as well."
Bessie, his heated stare finally took my breath away which must have seemed like a few seconds too long for our inquisitive daughter, who started up her questioning again. "Mom, so what were they? And what flavors are in daddy's cologne?"
However, this time I really didn't want to reveal anymore because I felt the more I information I shared the more private undercurrents between Oliver and I would be exposed to two perfect strangers. "Oh Annie, let's finish this story tonight, we have guests here, and Mr. Donatelli will be wanting to collect the girls soon," I initially stated breathlessly due to Oliver's gleam but as I addressed Annie I tore my gaze from Oliver's in time to see our daughter's disposition shutter from enlightened and entertained to guarded and melancholy. In that moment, I knew my hunches from earlier were correct, that Miss Annie was attempting to deflect the attention off the 'big elephant' in the room called 'the stories and memorabilia relating to her dead parents' in addition to allowing her friends some more time to enjoy their safe haven before returning to their daily hades. Bessie, even her 'puppy dog eyes' couldn't dissuade me this time, especially after I saw Mr. Donatelli look at his pocket watch for the third time in less than ten minutes.
However, Bessie, I wasn't that heartless, I did assist with getting the ball rolling again by inquiring about the Raggedy Ann doll. "Mrs. McGuire, I can still smell Margaret's scent faintly on Raggedy Ann. Do you know how Margaret successfully accomplished this feat especially if she's been in this cedar chest for so many years?"
"Yous, a cle'er girl me dear, just like me Margaret! I's do know how she did it, she soaked da stuffins in scented water for a day. Den she let dem air dry 'fore repeatin' da process a few more times 'til ya could smell da stuffin' 'cross da room. Me Margaret den stuffed da Raggedy Ann she had already created … it twas right in time for deir last Christmas," finished Mrs. McGuire softly.
Oh Bessie, Annie turned her watery eyes toward Mrs. McGuire but stoically stated, "Thank you for sharin' my first parent's story with me. I'm sorry they didn't make it. Maybe more memories will come'ta me later but right now they're just blurry. Can you just tell me what else is in the trunks and dresser, please? I'm sure Mr. Donatelli will be needin'ta go soon and take my friends back'ta the orphanage too."
Oliver and I shared a look immediately, Bessie, because Annie had just emulated one of his strategies to end uncomfortable meetings; however, I'd say with a bit more sweetness and tact than Oliver often shows especially when he's irate with one of his associates (i.e., he'll abruptly call the meeting to a close with his gruffness and 'stink eye,' yet he'll give the associate of few minutes to wrap it up before sending him on his merry way not knowing the irritable tyrant he's unleashed). Nevertheless, after about four months working as his employee I figured out that the irritable tyrant is his cover for the hurt. Bessie, that is, when Oliver's disposition is irritable it's his cover for being hurt! It generally stems from associates making unintended cutting remarks relating to his humble beginnings. Then he'll dismiss all the staff in the office so he can 'lick his wounds' (another Annieism) in private, that is, up until this week.
How do I know that Annie is emulating my future husband? Because she was privy to two occasions last week where Oliver demonstrated his abrupt closing skills. So she has not only witnessed his technique, but is now starting to implement his tactic effectively (a bit scary to see how she is already starting to mimic the two of us already … Abigail wasn't jesting when she stated that children are little sponges just waiting to soak up knew knowledge and skills from the adults surrounding them).
However, during the two experiences she witnessed last week, she stayed in the office instead of following everyone else's nonverbal cues to leave. Bessie, can I say I was a bit jealous of my daughter in those moments, because she was able to comfort the man I've loved for years so easily, but because of business decorum I've never been allowed; yet, it also made me fall in love with her just a bit more as well! I remember the first occasion, I didn't realize she had been in the adjoining room, and snuck into the room after we all left. It wasn't until they both came bursting out announcing they were going swimming, and didn't want to be disturbed for at least an hour. Later, I learned that Oliver was teaching Annie how to swim, and all she had to wear was undergarments (hence my dash to purchase the yellow bathing suit).
Oh my, Bessie, I am derailing from the meeting earlier. Goodness, I think my nerves and Oliver's nearness have fritzed my ability to multi-task without missing a beat or getting off topic so easily. Speaking of Oliver, who is reading over my shoulder right now … let's just say his ability to 'not' snort or nonverbally tease, as he promised early, only lasted for a few minutes. So, I guess I could say he's driving me to distraction as he's nuzzling or cuddling me closer, who would have ever thought the 'Great Oliver Warbucks' was this tactile and affectionate!
"I'm only this tactile and affectionate with my two favorite girls because I love them to the moon and back," huskily breathed Oliver sending shivers down Grace's spin.
See what I mean, Bessie, he's not only unsettled my thoughts and concentration, but my neat penmanship is sloppier then when he's dictating over a 120 words a minute. I am not use to my diary containing very ill writing, but thank goodness it's still legible, it's just not my cultivated penmanship.
Okay, okay, okay, Oliver's giving me a nudge to return back to today's earlier events instead of pointing out my usually refined multi-tasking skills that are fritzing due to HIM. So, on with the next moment in the European study where Mrs. McGuire silently inquired about Annie's directive. Oliver took the initiative here and replied, "Mrs. McGuire, Annie is correct, we've appreciated your time and efforts today to bring a few pieces of Annie's past to her. However, time doesn't come to a standstill just because we wish it too. Mr. Donatelli is a very busy man, and recent events have caused it to tenfold. We don't wish to keep him here any longer, however, we'd like to invite you back soon … maybe make it a biweekly or monthly occurrence so Annie will always have a link to her past."
Mrs. McGuire, nodded her acceptance of both the invite and Oliver's lame excuse for Annie's avoidance. She quickly pointed out that the rest of the opened trunk contained items Margaret created for Annie or David. She then stated that the second trunk contained marionettes David created. During this announcement, Annie's head cocked to the side as another glazed look took over her eyes. I knew she was recalling another memory from her past, but I pretended to not notice it.
Bessie, once, Annie's eyes cleared Mrs. McGuire gestured to the small dresser like item, and indicated that it was a jewelry/craft organizer David created for Margaret. Then on her own accord Annie went over to it, she then as hesitatingly fingered it before her curiosity finally took over. She slowly uncovered the hidden latch at the top which released the two large doors so they could be opened.
Oh Bessie, inside were about 20 stacked wooden puzzle boxes! Each one was intricately crafted to look like the creature or object David painstakingly created, he was definitely a true artisan. It's such as pity, Bessie, his work was definitely high quality and inventive, I'm sure in time, if his life hadn't ended so soon, his craftsmanship would have become well sought after by the masses. We only had a few minutes to glance over the wooden puzzle boxes before Annie started stacking them back into the jewelry organizer/dresser. She then locked it back up, I could see her rigidness and the barely contained calm she was attempting to display. Today's visit definitely struck another cord with Annie's already battered heart.
Bessie, then Annie headed over to the table and started to shuffle the pictures and notes into two neat stacks as she began to hum her song, 'Tomorrow'; but, Mrs. McGuire's next statement proved to be Annie's undoing and ours as well when she innocently added salt to already opened wounds. "Ah, me Margaret's comfortin' tune, da yous know da otha song she sang'ta yous girls too? Both doses songs are written somewhere in her notes …" However, Mrs. McGuire immediately saw how her words affected Annie as she dove into my arms to cover her quaking soul.
"Oh deary, I's neva meant'ta bring such pain'ta yous. I just wanted'ya ta have da truth and da items dat dey made for yous and each otha," said Mrs. McGuire as her knobby hand began to play with Annie's curls in a soothing motion.
Oliver and I shared a watery look before he placed the two stacks in their rightful portfolios and then back into the lap desk. He then proceeded to place the vial box and the lap desk back into the trunk carefully, before he led Mr. Donatelli to the door and asked for Punjab's assistance to assemble the girls for him. The ever efficient Punjab, not only had the six girls ready and collected within ten minutes; but, had also arranged for six footman to carry their small bags behind them to the front entrance then to retrieve Annie's new trunks and jewelry organizer and take them up to her room.
Those ten minutes were what the four of us needed to regroup ourselves from another downward spiral of emotions stemmed again from recent and past memories. Bessie, it's been such an 'emotional roller coaster ride' this week and it's just begun! Good heavens, if this is how it's going to be leading up to this weekend's nuptials between Oliver and I, we better order a truck load of handkerchiefs from his company in Vermont.
Anyway, once Oliver returned to us, he hiked Annie into his arms as she snaked her legs around his torso and her arms around his neck as she buried her head in his neck. She then released one of her arms as she searched for something in midair, and only popped her head up for a moment to silently plead with me to join them. Once I acknowledged her plea I sidled up behind Oliver as I wrapped myself around my two loves; and, I was right that our little girl wanted me near her and her daddy because she immediately enveloped me into their hug. Bessie, I just did what felt naturally again by alternating my kisses and nuzzles between my two loves.
Somewhere in the back of my mind I felt bad for leaving Mrs. McGuire out, but our daughter needed us! Bessie, before we knew it though, Annie's tears had subsided as she pushed away from Oliver's neck. We could see our little girl compartmentalizing her feelings in order to look tough in front of her friends. We may have only had her for less than two weeks, but her outward shields of self-preservation were becoming apparent to Oliver and me. She gave us both a sloppy kiss on our cheeks before silently asking Oliver to let her down.
Once, she was placed on solid ground I bent down to use my handkerchief to wipe away her tears. This caused some comic relief, because like any child being cleaned by her mom, Annie twisted and turned to avoid my onslaught. "Annie, hold still!"
"MMMMooom"
"Anne Margaret, this could be a spit bath, now hold still so I can help wipe away your tears," I calmly teased.
"What's a spit bath, mom," Annie stated as she conceded to my attempts to clean her face.
"It's when your mom spits on her handkerchief to add moisture to it and then wipes it on your face. Let me tell you, it's a bit terrifying when it happens right before the elevator doors open to an important board meeting," teased Oliver as he attempted to assist with the comic relief.
"Oliver! It was only one time and you had ink smudged on your face from the newspaper you were reading in the car. It wouldn't have been fitting for the GREAT OLIVER WARBUCKS to enter HIS OWN meeting dirty, now would it?!" I playfully protested.
"See what I mean?" snickered Annie to Mrs. McGuire as she gestured toward us.
Mrs. McGuire didn't miss a beat as she stated with a twinkle in her eye, "Dat's twhat people do twhen dey're in love me dear. Dey also have lots of history tagetha which adds'ta deir charmin' chemistry. Yous'll undastand twhen yous find dat special someone someday, me dear." On her last note, she playfully tweaked Annie's nose eliciting a much needed grin and chortle to assist with her self-preservation shield. Bessie, I have to say Mrs. McGuire will always be welcome in our home. Home?! This mansion finally feels like a home!
"I couldn't agree with you more my dear, but this little pixie isn't going to stay out for much longer. So you better hurry if you want me to fill you in on what occurred in my office just before I joined you both in here," cheekily whispered Oliver.
"Well, if someone would stop nibbling and breathing on my ear every other minute, I'd write a lot faster but instead he's driving me to distraction!"
Bessie, men! Oliver is such a tease, have I mentioned that today? Now where was I before, he interrupted my concentration again. Oh yes, after Annie and Mrs. McGuire's tête-à-tête was complete, Punjab knocked on the door before entering and silently nodding to Oliver that the girls and Mr. Donatelli were headed to the car. Oliver offered Mrs. McGuire his arm as I took Annie's hand as we strolled toward the front entrance together at a leisure pace for Mrs. McGuire.
Once, we reached outside we saw the girls' weekend caregivers giving their last farewells before they turned toward the front entry. I vaguely remember Cecile desperately trying to catch my eye, but Annie's death grip on my hand had my mind focused on her needs rather than my friend's. Oliver handed Mrs. McGuire into the DuPont, since Mr. Donatelli wouldn't be able to fit all the girls and Mrs. McGuire into his vehicle safely, while Annie said her goodbyes to her friends.
Oh Bessie, it was heartbreaking yet endearing at the same time. Annie was wishing them goodbye as well as encouraging them to keep their chins up, because she intended to ask Oliver for another sleepover soon. It wasn't until she reached little Molly, where her walls finally fell down, when she asked Annie to sing 'Tomorrow' for her. Bessie, that's when my little girl made a mad dash for the front entrance to hide her tears! Oliver and I didn't even have time to say goodbye to Mr. Donatelli as we both rushed after her. All I could think about was her disappearance the other day in the garden! (Oliver's 'humphs' next to me and his squeezes on my arm, right now, also indicate that's what he was feeling earlier too).
Thank goodness, the girls' caretakers were waiting on us because Annie plowed right into Mabel! I'm not sure we would have caught up to our little minx, and who knows where she would have darted too, to 'lick her wounds.' All I know, Bessie, was Mr. Donatelli was right behind us, the Allens, Jenkins, Harts, and Craigs all had desperate looks on their faces, and all I wanted to do was … FOR ONCE IN MY LIFE be selfish and do what I wanted to do AND THAT WAS TO HOLD MY BABY and not deal with the business that awaited us! However, the voice of reason murmured in my ear to BE THE BIG GIRL, and deal with the business at hand; but, the 'mama bear' in me whispered to hurry it up!
I remember, glancing to Oliver as he accepted the roll of 'papa bear' by attending to Annie as I took the lead in addressing my friends' needs. However, I'd say my general sweetness and tact were missing when I addressed them especially since I didn't request that our meeting be performed in one of the studies or Oliver's office (i.e., where prying eyes and ears had less chances to overhear our discussion). Michael, Annette's husband, immediately stepped up as the group's spokesman and cut right to the chase stating that they all wished to petition to adopt all the girls (i.e., the respective caregivers for their particular girl or girls).
Bessie, I know that Michael's declaration had Oliver a bit mystified, but I already knew in my heart that Cecile and Jack were already smitten with Kate and Molly. I also saw how the others felt about the other girls. I mean Jane's actions the other day in Oliver's office with Pepper solidified my belief that at least all the 'mama bear genes' were kicking in and the men's feelings weren't too far behind the girls. However, before I could roll my eyes toward Oliver's obliviousness, Annie piped in and appeared slightly less down when she declared the idea to be 'swell.'
Mr. Donatelli didn't miss a beat before applying his own thoughts since he witnessed the whole thing in the doorway. He indicated that with Oliver's endorsement and their steady employment with him, the adoptions would be a shoo-in by the end of the week, once background checks were completed on each of the couples and the legal documents were signed as well. Well, I took one glance at Cecile and knew this was not the answer the couples wanted. I also knew that Oliver and I did not have to wait that long so why should they?! Yes, Oliver is special but seriously, why couldn't Mr. Donatelli do the same for the others as he did for Oliver and me? Finally, the absurdity of the notion to wait for a week came flashing through my head … IT WOULD BE SIX LESS MOUTHS TO FEED if everything was settled today!
So what did I do, Bessie? I used the Farrell cleverness to outsmart the fox. After all, due to the years of death threats to Oliver, I initiated during my first year of employment the biannual background check requirement for all staff (including myself, so no feathers would be ruffled by the old staff, especially with the boy's club, aka, butlers/footmen). Then if Mr. Donatelli needed the documents to be legal and notarized too, well, I could fix that in jiffy too! After all, we had a judge and lawyer in the house right now, who were probably chewing the fat with FDR; and, I'm sure if they weren't good enough the President of the United States would suffice.
Bessie, sorry, I'm just getting worked up recalling the idiocracy Mr. Donatelli demonstrated earlier! I do remember, however, taking a cleansing breath before I issued my orders toward all the daft men to seal the deal today! I also recall ordering the Asp to return Mrs. McGuire to her boarding house as well … all while taking my baby girl into my comforting arms and heading up the elevator to her room.
Knock, knock.
"Is everything okay in here," whispered a very concerned Esther as she poked her head around the door.
"Yes, for the most part, Mama Esther," Grace responded.
"Oh good, you three have missed lunch so I thought I would bring you up a serving cart, but since Miss Annie is still fast asleep, we'll just leave it right outside the door," responded Esther.
"Oh just on a side note, as 'Judge Love,' I'd like to remind you that your pre-marriage counseling begins tonight at 7 p.m. sharp, and there will be no funny business until the wedding night, do I make myself loud and clear?!"
This statement earned her two eye rolls, but her response to them was her famous 'Judge Love stink-eye' as she waved her pointer finger at them.
Once, the door closed Grace and Oliver slowly turned their heads toward each other to share an exasperated look, but instead their lips found each other.
To be continued…