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Saturday lunchtime
"Ugh! What have you put in this? Bricks?"
"Food. And drink. It's called a picnic. Give it to me, I know it's heavy."
"You hate picnics, why are we doing this?"
"Because it's hot and I thought you would like it. But if you're going to complain, we can always go back inside …"
"No, no, no! I'm happy! Look, I'm smiling!"
"Good," he smiled back, warmth touching his eyes and filling her heart.
"Where are we going?" asked Millie as Max hauled everything he had piled into the cooler bag out into the garden.
"To the summerhouse."
"At the end of the garden? That's not a proper picnic."
"I thought you weren't going to complain."
"I'm not, just saying that's all. A picnic should involve going somewhere different."
"Stop."
"There's no need to be sharp," Millie grumbled.
"No, I mean stop here."
"But we're not-"
"Stand here, close your eyes and be quiet. I'll be back in a moment."
"What are you doing? Where are you going? This feels really stupid," she called out as his quiet footsteps receded into the distance.
"Be quiet!" and then adding under his breath, "not strong enough to rein me in? He has no bloody idea." Max darted round the hedge to the small summerhouse which he had already been out to earlier that morning, laying out its rugs and cushions in front of it in what he hoped was a romantic fashion, although he wasn't really sure what that might look like. The content of the cooler bag was emptied out and the champagne placed in a metal bucket of once ice but now water to keep cool. Finally as satisfied as he could be that it didn't look a complete mess he turned back to find Millie still standing dutifully in the middle of the lawn, here eyes still shut. The sun was high in the sky and it was getting hotter, at least it was as far as he was concerned. She stood barefoot in only a bikini and sheer shirt dress that rippled over her body in the light breeze, lifting to reveal a length of enticing pale thigh.
"Can I open my eyes now? Should I be concerned at what I might see?" she giggled as she heard his approach, breaking the spell.
"No and maybe," he answered taking her hands and pulling her forwards as he walked backwards to behind the hedge. "Keep them closed, or there'll be trouble," he warned sternly, masking his nerves. "Okay, stop there." Slightly creakily and ruing how aged was sneakily creeping up on him, he dropped down to one knee, still with her hands in his. "You can open them now," his voice was soft, little more than a whisper floating up to her. Millie blinked, adjusting to the sudden light and taking a moment to realise that he wasn't standing in front of her. Her eyes dropped to his and her heart stopped at the sight. Usually so physically strong, so in control, it always knocked her sideways whenever she saw his vulnerability, the contrast between the two character traits so stark.
"Marry me, Millie. Please?"
She gazed at him for what felt like several minutes for them both, savouring this moment that she'd never dared to believe could happen. He was so damaged by his past that it was inconceivable to her that he would want marriage and for her part simply sharing her daily life with him had seemed enough. But in this instant she knew that it had never been enough, she wanted it all and now he was willingly offering it to her. She had given no hints, no ultimatum. Perhaps all it had taken was time together, content and secure. Learning to share their lives, their successes and disappointments, doing the ordinary things that ordinary people do. Making love and sometimes not making love, not every day could be filled with passion after all.
"Millie?" his voice took on a strained note and she realised she was unconsciously torturing him while lost in her thoughts. She fell to her knees in front of him, still holding his hands between their bodies.
"Yes, of course I will. Yes!" she broke out into a wide smile and flung her arms around him, burying her face into his neck, breathing in his pulse as he held her tightly to his body with one arm, and fishing around in his pocket with his free hand to draw out a small suede pouch. From it, he produced a ring.
"If you don't like it we can change-"
"I love it, Max. I love it," she assured him as he slid the gold band claw set with three good sized diamonds onto her finger.
"Damn, it's loose. I thought I'd got it exactly right, but that was ages ago," he murmured. Millie wondered what he meant, but decided now probably wasn't the best time to question him.
"We can get it altered, at least it's not too tight. I can still wear it and show to the world that I'm an engaged woman! It should help to ward off those predatory types who keep approaching you," she felt herself gushing in breathless excitement.
"When? "Who? I've never noticed anyone."
"Right answer," she congratulated him giddily. "Oh!"
"What?"
"You did all this?" she whispered. On the periphery of her vision, Millie had suddenly caught the shade dappled romantic setting in which they knelt.
"Yeah," Max felt awkward, without confidence in his attempt at putting together a scene worthy of the moment. "Is it okay? It's not something I've ever tried to do before. The parks in Canley are excatly suitable settings ..."
"It's wonderful, the best picnic ever. Can I cry?"
"You can try, but I bet I can stop you," countered Max, feeling more at home with the physical nature of seduction than the romance.
"Bet you can't-"
He took her face between his hands, running a thumb over her lower lip before cutting off her words and drawing a low moan from her throat in reply. The kiss deepened, taking them somewhere new. She would be his. It might only be a piece of paper and a couple of rings, but to Max, Millie was giving him more than he had ever imagined any woman would or could. Despite knowing all she did, despite the mistakes he had made and the pain he had caused her, she was prepared to commit her life to him. His heart soared ecstatically as he pressed his body against her and she softened into him, each symbiotically filling the contours of the other.
Millie felt herself go weak in his embrace. Her mind would always be her own, but her body and soul were entirely different, she was inescapably drawn, bound to him. More deeply in love than ever. She hated the professional necessity of being apart each day and although even to her it sounded absurd, wearing his ring already connected them more than she could have ever imagined possible. Increasingly light-headed, they broke apart only to gasp for air before resuming once again. His fingers worked at the buttons from the bottom of her shirt-dress, finally pushing it back to reveal the body beneath, and then knowingly grazed her nape as he pulled apart the bow tying the strings of her white bikini. It fell to her waist beneath the shirt only partially covering her breasts, only giving an illusion of decency. Taking in the heavy-lidded vision of abandonment knelt before him, he unclipped her hair, raking through it as it tumbled down around her shoulders. Lowering her down beneath him, he lovingly rested her head on the cushions and watched as her chest rose and fell with each ragged breath from her parted lips. He ran his hands from the smooth column of her neck down to between her breasts, absorbing her heartbeat until he could bear it no more and needed to feel more of her, slowly caressing her skin as he made his way over her stomach towards her hips and the ties of the remainder of her bikini. Millie tugged at his polo shirt, dragging it over his chest and forcing his arms up to shrug it off. He needed no further invitation to divest himself of his shorts.
Max looked down at his woman, his pride growing in primal fervour with his arousal, all nerves dissolved in the melting heat. She had agreed to be his wife and he would be her husband, the belonging that had always eluded him had evaporated.
Max peeled his damp skin away from hers. "I'm going to be good to you, Millie."
She looked up and met his gaze quizzically, he seemed to be trying to convince himself as much as her. "Why did you say that?"
Max pondered how honest he should be as she played with a lock of his hair. "It's just something your Dad said."
"And?" Millie prompted as his answer hung between them.
"He's worried that I won't make you happy," Millie was just about to rubbish her father's concerns when Max continued, "and he's right to be worried. Promise me, Millie, promise that you'll always tell me if I go too far or if I forget to put you first, to put us first. I don't mean to forget, but sometimes …," he paused unsure how to phrase his fears, "I don't want you to ever think that anything is more important than you."
Millie wanted to chide him for being overly dramatic, but the sincerity in his voice was reflected by the anguish in his eyes, searching hers for help. "Of course I will, don't I anyway? We're in this together. You and me," she coaxed a smile from him. "When did Dad say that to you?"
"This morning before he and you Mum went out, when I …" he stopped himself.
"You what? What did you do?"
"Nothing, ow, no stop … please stop …" His writhing from Millie's tickles reached epic proportion as he fought to evade her hands and her naked body rubbing against his, falling onto his back. "Okay, okay, I'll tell you… I asked him for permission to ask you to marry me."
"You did what?" she exclaimed from above him and for a moment, Max thought she wasn't going to respond well to the archaic ritual he had followed early that morning, but then she burst into peals of hysterical laughter. "That is the most insane thing I have ever heard you do, which is really saying something! What happened?"
Max tried to maintain some semblance of dignity. "I suppose he did what any self-respecting father would do and gave me a hard time. I was terrified," he admitted grudgingly.
"Oh I would have loved to have to have been there. What did he say?"
"That's between me and him."
"Man-talk?"
"Yeah, something like that."
"Not good enough, I want to know-," she attempted to resume her tickling but this time Max caught her wrists and flipped her over, pinning her down on her back and enjoying every moment of her wriggling against him.
"Oh dear," he tutted, shaking his head sadly, "I can see you might need some wifely training, might as well make a start now …"
"Oh darlings! That is wonderful. I'm so happy for you both." Sondra took her daughter and future son-in-law into her arms. Max noted over her shoulder that Richard had poured himself an Irish whisky, presumably to blur his own misgivings. Before their conversation that morning, Max might have been unnerved, but now he understood Richard's primary concern was for the loss of his daughter and less about the forced acquisition of a son he couldn't quite bring himself to trust. A little bit less anyway.
As Sondra released the pair from her arms but still held their hands in each of hers, she asked the much anticipated question. "So, will this be a long engagement, or …?"
Millie looked over at Max and bit her lip to stop laughing. He had something of the 'rabbit trapped in the headlights' look about him. He wanted to be married to Millie, the actually 'getting married' part however was downright scary. "I'm joking, Max. I know you two will work it out, however and whenever you choose. I won't be a wedding obsessed mother who buys every magazine on the stand every month, I promise."
Richard nearly choked on his whisky. "Can we eat now?"
Supper progressed amiably. Richard relaxed, aided by stomach expanding portions of rich coq au vin with the creamiest dauphinoise potatoes and Millie's affectionate gestures towards her beloved father, at one point whispering to him, "I love you, that won't ever change you know." By the time Sondra served the most exquisitely pears poached in dessert wine with the lightest crème anglaise, the four were laughing and chatting without barriers. Finally unable to take another mouthful, Millie sat back and surveyed her family with satisfaction and frankly more than a little smugness at her success. The two men who meant so much to her were finally getting along.
It was Sondra who snapped her out of her reverie when she leapt up at the sounds of the back door creaking open and a heavy bag crashing to the floor of the utility room.
"Tara!"
"Tara? I thought she wasn't coming home until next-" Millie couldn't help but feel disappointed that her sister's return would inevitably upstage her and disrupt the newly forged harmony.
"Mummy! Daddy!" The younger woman flew at her parents excitedly, first into the arms of Sondra who hugged her youngest offspring fiercely. Richard however was less than impressed to receive a mouthful of her rather foul-smelling and bedraggled dreadlocked hair, interwoven with filthy ribbons.
"What the-" he recoiled, his horror intensifying when he caught sight of the tall and equally bedraggled blonde man who had followed her into the room.
Max smiled.