Phyllis kicked off her shoes by the back door and headed towards the kitchenette. It wasn't a proper kitchen, per se, but it was theirs. She smiled as she saw Joe snoring in front of the TV. Shutting it off, she kissed him lightly on his forehead, smoothing the wispy hair back. "Joe? I'm back."
He blinked twice, then yawned. He opened his eyes slowly, still half-asleep. "Hey, Phil." He stretched. "What time is it?"
"Almost five o'clock," she said, throwing her coat onto the recliner. "Do you want to get a pizza?"
"Sure," he said, sitting up. "I'll call now, then you can tell me about the afternoon." He dialed and placed their order while she poured herself a Diet Pepsi. "They'll be here in about forty-five minutes," he said, putting the phone down. "So…" he leaned over the counter on his elbows. "How was the dress shopping? Did she find something?"
"Mm-hmm," she said, sipping her drink. "It was fun. She loved the one she chose, so did we all. Even Mary got misty-eyed when she came out of the dressing room."
He raised his eyebrows. "Really? Who else was there?"
"Me, Beryl, Daisy, Thomas, Anna, Poppy, Mary and Cora," Phil said, ticking off people on her fingers. A smile crept across her face. "The third place we went was in the outdoor shopping plaza, you know the place close to John and Anna's? We ran into Violet and Isobel there. They said they were just window shopping, but none of us believed them."
"They were trying to sneak a peek too, you think?"
"Well…" Phyllis set her cup down. "Yes, I think so."
He leaned forward. "And?"
She shook her head. "Maybe I'm imagining things, but I think they were looking for a dress for Isobel, as well as see what Elsie would choose."
He shrugged, tracing a circle around her cup. "Well, I assume the place has more than just bridal gowns there. Maybe she and Violet were looking for dresses. There's nothing strange about that." He saw her expression. "Is there?"
She tilted her head to one side, her long brown hair falling over her shoulder. "Especially not if Isobel is thinking of getting married again." She grinned when his eyes bugged out.
"Do you really think so-"
"It wouldn't be that strange, would it?" she laughed. "She's been dating the medical examiner, Dr. Clarkson, for a while now."
"Wow," he said, straightening up. "Just when I was getting used to Mr. Carson and Mrs. Hughes…wow." He pulled a cup out of the cupboard and filled it with water from the refrigerator. Wrapping an arm around her waist, he narrowed his eyes in mock-suspicion. "You can't fool me, Phyllis Baxter. You just want to throw me off the scent. Get to the good stuff, tell me about Mrs. Hughes and her dress."
She laughed again, giving him a hug. "Guilty as charged. Not," she raised her eyebrows, "that what I saw with Isobel isn't plausible." She kissed him lightly on the lips. "We went to six different places. The first two were disappointments, although Elsie did figure out what she didn't want, which is just as important as finding what she did want."
"What did she want?" Joe had no idea. Weren't wedding dresses all the same?
"Not a white dress, for one thing. She said white would just wash out her skin. And she wasn't going to go for one of the strapless dresses, even though they've been all the rage for years. Beryl forced her to try one on, though."
Joe choked on his water. "A-a strapless dress?" He pounded his chest, coughing. He couldn't imagine Elsie Hughes in a strapless dress.
"Mmm. Of course she didn't choose it. But she looked quite nice," Phyllis mused. "Actually, she looked good in everything."
"Stop stalling. What did she choose?"
Phyllis squealed, tapping her hands on the counter as though it was a drum. She bounced on her toes. "Oh, it's beautiful. It's a champagne color, with half-sleeves. There's lace all over it, I love the detail. There's a v-neckline with a higher collar, and the back is sheer, with lace covering it. Buttons all down her back…"
Joe's eyes started to glaze over as she rattled on. He had hardly ever seen Phil so excited.
Perhaps he should get the ring hidden at the back of his closet resized sooner, rather than later.
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The sign written in blue crayon made Elsie smile as she pulled into the driveway. COME IN THE FRONT DOOR, it said. She parked in the garage, then walked back out around the sidewalk and pushed open the door. The smell of chili and apple tart hit her just before Sybbie did.
"Aunt Elsie! You're here, you're here!" She flew into Elsie, almost knocking her into the coat rack. Elsie swung her in a circle before setting her down.
"You're still a little pale, but your color's coming back. You must be feeling better," she hung her coat up and let the girl drag her by the hand into the living room. "Oh my, someone's been busy."
Construction paper, crayons, markers, a child-size pair of scissors, paper plates and Elmer's glue were scattered all over the table. Behind the counter, Charles set the apple tart on a rack to cool.
"Yes, we have. You're right on time, dinner is ready."
"Look at my pictures!" Sybbie cried, holding up one creation after another, hardly giving Elsie time to peruse each one.
"Beautiful, lass! These are wonderful!" she said, sharing an amused glance with Charles. He cleared his throat, rubbing his hands together.
"Sybbie, we're going to eat in a few minutes. You need to wash your hands. Come on, I'll go with you and wash mine too." Sybbie huffed, blowing a strand of hair out of her face.
"Do we have to? I have another picture-"
"Now, missy," he said with just a touch of firmness. He gestured to the hallway with his head and she trotted to the bathroom. He kissed Elsie, his mouth lingering for a moment. "How did it go today? Success?" She smiled, looking up at him through half-closed eyes.
"Yes, very much so, though I can't tell you any of the details. Except that I did find a dress," she said, beginning to clear the table.
"Oh good. I was afraid you'd wear a pantsuit walking down the aisle. Not that you'd look bad, but you look better in dresses," he grinned.
"She didn't wear you out, did she?" Elsie called as he headed to the bathroom.
"Hardly. She took a nap this afternoon. Her cold's almost gone."
They lingered over their meal, Sybbie talking nonstop. Both adults had to remind her at intervals to eat. She chattered about the afternoon, how Uncle Carson had played chess with her; the story he told her before her nap about the princess who fell in love with a poor man, and how the man killed a dragon to win her father's approval; how they'd watched Wall-E for the thousandth time.
"And you know what?" Sybbie asked, dropping bits of shredded cheese onto the table. "He found a record with the music in Wall-E too! From Hello, Dolly! We listened to it all day! My favorite song is the one about the parade," she said, finally eating more of her chili.
"It sounds like a wonderful time," Elsie said, her bowl empty. "I'm sorry I couldn't be here to enjoy it with you."
"Daddy said you were going to look at dresses with Aunt Mary and Grandma. I wanted to go too," she pouted.
"But did you have fun with me? Even if I am an old bear," Charles asked. He growled, pretending to show bear claws. Sybbie giggled.
"Uh-huh. Can we dance again? Please?"
"To 'Before The Parade Passes By'?" He pretended to think about it. "Oh, I guess so. One more time." He got up and fiddled with the record player. It crackled before Barbra Streisand's voice boomed over the speaker.
"Come on, Aunt Elsie! You too!" She got up from the table and joined them. Charles twirled Sybbie until the drums began. Then they all joined hands and marched around the room. Elsie couldn't stop laughing as Sybbie stomped in rhythm.
"Daddy says this was one of Mommy's favorite songs," she said suddenly as the band began to play.
"Yes, it was," Charles said, turning with her. "She loved this song." He shared a soft glance with Elsie.
"Now you sing!" Sybbie demanded. So they did.
When the parade passes by
Listen and hear that brass harmony growing
When the parade passes by
Pardon me if my old spirit is showing
All of those lights over there
Seem to be telling me where I'm going
When the whistles blow
And the cymbals crash
And the sparklers light the sky
I'm gonna raise the roof!
I'm gonna carry on!
Give me an old trombone, give me an old baton!
Before the parade passes by!
"Wow," gasped Elsie, holding her sides. "I forgot how long she held that note at the end."
"Let's do it again!" cried Sybbie.
"I think we've had enough for today," Charles said, his big hand on her head. "We'll still have time to dance in the morning before your daddy picks you up."
Elsie took the little girl back to the bathroom and gave her a bath while Charles finished cleaning the kitchen. He came back to the guest bedroom in time to see Sybbie before Elsie turned off the light. The guest of honor requested his presence.
"Aunt Elsie and Daddy told me to call you Uncle Charlie now," she said, a serious expression on her face. "But I won't."
"Why not?" he asked, sitting on the side of the bed. "It's my first name. I don't call you Branson," he touched her nose. She grinned and buried her face in the pillow.
"But you're Uncle Carson," she said, her voice muffled, sounding exasperated. She rolled over again, sitting up slightly. "And when you and Aunt Elsie get married, you'll be Uncle and Aunt Carson."
"Are you going to call me Aunt Carson then?" Elsie asked, surprised.
"Yes," Sybbie rolled her eyes.
"But you don't call Uncle Matthew and Aunt Mary Uncle and Aunt Crawley," Charles said, frustrated, his eyebrows in a line.
"Because," Sybbie huffed, as if she was explaining something quite simple, "they're married, but they're not together. Not like you. Here," she reached for Charles's hand and pulled it across the bedspread to Elsie's resting hand. They held hands, looking at each other.
"See?" Sybbie said. "You're together!"
"I still don't understand," Charles said quietly. He leaned over and kissed Sybbie on the head.
"I think I do," Elsie murmured under her breath. She pulled the comforter up and tucked it around the five-year-old. They both said goodnight and left the room, turning the nightlight on and closing the door.
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Charles hummed into Elsie's mouth. He stopped, gasping, resting his chin on her head. "We can't," he whispered. "What if we wake her?" He took a deep breath, willing his body to calm down. It didn't listen.
"How loud are you planning on being, Uncle Carson?" Elsie teased, pulling his head down again. Her fingers dug into the back of his neck and he moaned, his tongue moving over her bottom lip. She pulled at the drawstring of his flannel pants.
"What if she comes in here?" he whispered as they climbed into bed. He tossed Elsie's nightgown over his shoulder. "I don't know how parents do this, with children under the same roof-"
"They do it the same way as before the children came," Elsie breathed, her hands busy as she lay against his chest, feeling him beneath her. "Or so I would assume."
"For the love of God, Els," he hissed through his teeth. "Ah, good God-"
They moved in sync, at a pace well known to them. Elsie tried to remember to keep quiet, but she cried out once before biting her lip. Charles did better, but his gasps and whispered words nearly drove his fiancee out of her mind. Afterward, he grabbed his shirt and shorts and clothed himself, laying back down against her naked back.
"Are you sure you don't want your nightgown?" he rumbled. "Just in case? Be prepared, I say." He ran his hand along her hip.
"I'm fine," she mumbled, sleep overcoming her. "I'm not worried."
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She awoke in pitch darkness, wondering what had startled her. A pale apparition moved in her line of sight, and she almost screamed in terror. Charles still slept beside her, his breaths long in deep slumber.
"Aunt Elsie?" Sniff. The figure shuffled closer. "I-I had a bad dream," a small voice said. "C-can I get in the bed with you?"
Instinctively, Elsie reached for Sybbie, but the air hitting her body reminded her of the moments before sleep.
She was naked under the covers.
Oh dear God.
She nudged Charles with her foot, hoping he would wake up quickly and not startle Sybbie.
"Sybbie?" She feigned coming out of sleep. "Is that you?"
Sniff. "Uh-huh. Can I-" her voice wobbled on the edge of a sob. "Can I get into bed with you? I don't wanna go back to my room." Beside Elsie, Charles was awake. He shuffled over his side of the bed. Thank God her nightgown is on my side of the room. He stuffed Elsie's nightgown next to her under the covers. She pulled it on, praying she wasn't putting it on backwards.
"Yes, love, you can get in," she said, flipping the covers back. "Quickly now, we don't want you getting cold." The mattress sagged as Sybbie climbed on. Elsie nestled her against her front, laying on her right side. Her back was against Charles. He slipped his left arm back around her.
"I got Paddington with me too," Sybbie sniffed, putting sock-covered feet on Elsie. "He's cold here, can Uncle Carson hold him?"
"I've got him," Charles said, tucking the bear into the crook of his arm. He was still there the next morning when he woke up.
He tucked him back next to Sybbie, who snored in Elsie's arms.
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A/N: I meant to give Baxley more attention, around chapter five, but it didn't work then. The venue mentioned in the previous chapter is a real place; it's where Mr. Meetme and I had our wedding reception. If you want to know its real name, PM me and I'll tell you.