| Subject: À la Vie! - Chapter 38 |
Author:
Diane
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Date Posted: Thursday, November 04, 11:08:59pm
In reply to:
Diane
's message, "À la Vie!" on Tuesday, October 19, 01:16:54am
They were eating leftover vegetable lasagna, which Michael had prepared the day before. Conversation at the dinner table was initially stilted, but became more animated as Nikita drew Michael out by asking him questions about Adam.
“He walked at eight months. Did I tell you that?” he asked, beaming. “Eight months! That’s almost unheard of. And he was speaking in complete sentences at a year and a half. Not long dissertations or anything like that, but ‘Daddy, I want the ball.’ None of that baby babble most kids use. And so handsome! Well, he looks just like his mother—.“ His voice trailed off.
“I’m sure he’s beautiful,” said Nikita, “with his father’s artistic eye and kind and gentle soul.”
“He does know all his colors,” Michael said hopefully. “In French and in English.”
“I bet you’ll have him painting before his third birthday,” teased Nikita.
Michael smiled. “And he’ll love you. He’ll love having you for a mother. You’ll make a great one, I know.”
“I hope so,” returned Nikita softly, “and maybe not just to Adam.”
Michael took her hand and pulled her on to his lap. They kissed deeply.
Michael and Nikita were in love; Adam was coming home; and all was right with the world.
* * *
Julie braced herself as Eric’s hand crept further up her thigh. He was leaving a slobbery trail of kisses down her neck, and she felt vaguely nauseated. “But where do you think they’re going?” she prodded gently.
“He said something about Munich. You should be meeting Adam’s German tutor any day. Now can we drop this and get back to the subject at hand?” His own hand slid higher, and he giggled at his double entendre. Julie smiled weakly, her mind racing. Munich. She had to get word to Mr. Samuelle. He was not in the office today—she would try again tomorrow, if she lived that long.
* * *
O’Brien’s contacts informed him that Karyn’s house was on the market. She couldn’t possible live openly at the embassy with Elena, and Elena couldn’t leave the embassy without Adam if she wanted to continue her “good mother” façade. There was only one explanation that made sense. Elena was going to take Adam and run.
* * *
Michael showed Nikita where to put her toiletries in the bathroom, then slipped into the bedroom to find something to wear in bed. Sleeping nude in the same bed with Nikita would not be a good move—for either of them. He settled on a pair of black sweatpants and a thin white tank shirt, and removed all the covers except the top sheet in deference to the warm weather. Nikita emerged from the bathroom a moment later, dressed in a modest powder blue nightshirt with the l'Éclat logo.
Michael had been right about the bed. It was not quite king-sized, but almost. He crawled over to the far edge and lay on his left side, facing her. “Is that the side you usually sleep on?” asked Nikita, “because it really doesn’t matter to me, and I don’t want you to go to any trouble or to put you out or anything just because—“
“Nikita, get in bed,” he ordered. She was rambling, which meant she was scared to death. Michael decided that a firm, no nonsense approach was what she needed now to put her at ease. Nikita got into bed and pulled the sheet up to her chin. “Pull the little chain on the lamp to turn it out,” Michael instructed. When she hesitated, he added, “There’s a nightlight in the bathroom, so it won’t be totally dark in here.” Nikita did as Michael said and, after a moment, realized that he was right. She could see just fine. She stole a look at Michael, who had turned on his back with his arms folded beneath his head. His eyes were closed.
“Michael?”
“Yes?”
“I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
Nikita rolled on her side away from Michael and closed her eyes, smiling. She was asleep in minutes.
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