Constance and Her B&B Pt. 03

We had hired the builder to put it up as well, and watched with glee as the erector set took shape. By the end of the day, only small things remained to be done. The cedar shingles, already stained, looked great. The metal roof, chosen for fire protection, was dark green and blended with the background trees. The underground electrical cable was stubbed out and Tony would arrive tomorrow to make connections. Likewise, the riser for the septic system and a pipe for fresh water rose next to the foundation supports.

The drizzle turned to rain and the erector crew departed. The women and I retreated to the kitchen for hot toddies. Camille sipped and pulled on my wet hair. "Arnie, it is really you we have to thank. If you hadn't decided to stop here..."

The pregnant one, who had been confirmed to be six weeks along, said, "Yes. He was so casual with a few suggestions, and now look." She pointed out the window at the little house, rain already dripping off its eaves.

I wandered from body to body, "There are three lovely women in this room who actually made things happen. They deserve lots of credit..."

Tina asked, "Shouldn't we dress up and take him out to dinner?"

"I have a better idea. You will shower and get into medium dressy outfits. While that is going on, I will prepare rare filets with bearnaise and other good things. We will have a socially correct cocktail hour in the parlor, and dinner in the dining room on the good china."

Their eyes said this was bad, but the voices said they were honored to be invited to such a fine event. Connie whispered, "Punishment will come later..."

I served a tray of icy cold martinis, with a selection of cheeses and imported crackers. They looked splendid. I made a toast, "Here is to our first success with the Writer's Retreat. Many will follow."

I circled the room with tender kisses. My women almost swooned. "Arnie, this is too much."

I ordered, in a gentle voice, "Relax and enjoy. Your meal will be served momentarily." Somehow, it seemed important for the novelist to provide a treat for the ladies for their labors. Their very loving labors.

To preserve more of the cherished Cabernet, I had acquired my own case of special reds. Tonight's choice was a ten year old Pomerol. I poured a generous sip for Camille to taste.

"Oui, monsieur, perfectement!"

The filets were divine. You've outdone yourself, Arnie, I thought.

After a few minutes, I ventured, "Perhaps we might plan a wedding before certain natural processes are too far advanced?"

Camille said, "She should be a June bride."

Tina said, "I am going to cry. This is so romantic."

The bride said, "There can't be a terrible mess outside. I want to be married under the trees."

"Sounds good to me. The bride has three helpers and lots of contractor friends. We will make it happen. Perhaps, with luck, I can summon writer friends to make a grand celebration out of the wedding."

Connie cried in my arms as I carried her to the big bed. "Arnie, I will be showing."

"Proudly. Very proudly. The vows will be special with the first-to-be-born so obviously present."

I was pounded and cried upon by all three. A special end to a special day.

The End