Michael and Susan

Chapter 14 (Susan): Plenty

Copyright © 2024 by GroveltoHEA

The second day of the photo session passed much like the first with different poses, different products, different outfits. Michael watched me like a hawk, always ready with a smile if I needed encouragement, asking periodically if I needed a break or wanted some water.

Mr. Oakland also watched me, but other than asking if I was ready for another long day that morning, I noticed that he kept his distance. It was only at the end of the day when we finished that he approached me again, taking one of my hands between both of his.

"You've done wonderfully!" he said. "I can't wait to see the catalogs. They'll be stunning with your pictures all over them."

Smiling, I discreetly withdrew my hand from between his as Michael walked up to us.

"You'll have to loan us your lovely wife again, Mr. Davenport. Would you be willing to share her with Avon for another campaign?"

"That's entirely up to Susan," Michael said curtly, his hand going to my waist. "And she's standing right here, so you can ask her."

Mr. Oakland looked askance at Michael's abruptness, so I hurried to fill the void.

"Thank you for the kind offer, Mr. Oakland, but I think this experience will have to do," I said to him with a smile to soften my refusal; I didn't really want a repeat of the last two days. It hadn't been as glamorous as I'd imagined and although I was sure it'd be thrilling to see my face in the catalogs, the actual process of getting the photos was a bit tedious.

We said good bye and began the drive home.

"He didn't improve at all the second day of knowing him," Michael said after a while.

"Mr. Oakland? He was harmless." 

"Not quite as harmless as you may think," he said, before glancing over at me briefly with an appreciative smile. I was back in my leopard print scarf and sunglasses for our ride home.

"Are we still on for our coffee date on Saturday?" Michael asked.

"Yes, I think so," I said. "You've been behaving."

Two days later, I was in my sunny yellow dress with matching yellow pumps and a light green sweater thrown over my shoulders. Walking into the diner where I was meeting my husband, I saw Michael was already seated and he stood as I approached.

"Pretty as a daffodil," he said. Waiting for me to take my seat on the bench, Michael took his. After the waitress took our orders -- we were both having coffee -- I studied Michael.

"Who's taking care of you?" I asked.

"I am. Along with help from the diner where I eat about three meals a day and more help from the laundromat and dry cleaners."

"Is someone coming into the house to clean?"

Michael shook his head. "I have nothing to do at night, so I clean up the house."

"Your dusting needs some attention," I blurted out, and Michael laughed.

"I'll make sure to do better at that."

The waitress delivered our coffees and the cream jug, then left us alone.

"Michael, is this just a waiting game to you?" I asked as I stirred my coffee.

His large hand immediately covered one of mine. "Look at me, Suze. This is no game, waiting or otherwise. I feel like this is more important than any battle I faced in the war, as if I'm in the fight of my life."