Worship And Other Love Rituals

Chapter 11

"I bet Ethan keeps a circus in his backyard." Leo wheezed.

I had always wondered that his oak doors were sadly lacking in witchcraft charms or mysterious runes because he was some kind of hot wizard himself. Leo rang the buzzer excitedly, which emitted a tinny chirp.

A voice boomed from within "HOLD YOUR HORSES, I'M A-COMIN'!

Then a moment later as my handsome boyfriend opened the doors, "Why hello little ducklings, waddle on in!"

I turned to Leo and whispered, "This one talks like Paul Bunyan after a few too many." He smothered a giggle.

Ethan led us towards the kitchen, passing the same portraits of stern-looking ancestors lining the hall. As always the kitchen had a new decor once again, it looked like something out of Better Homes and Manners - everything was marble and stainless, not a crumbs' chance of hiding anywhere. In the middle sat a giant picnic hamper bursting with fancy snacks - I half expected to see foie gras or caviar amongst the Wheat Thins.

My stomach rumbled. The smell made me feel hungrier than my lunch ever did.

As Leo dove face-first into the spread, I fixed us a sensible plate of foods that wouldn't need cutlery or napkins. Couldn't risk the boy staining these priceless tiles. Ethan poured me and one for himself a thimbleful of sauvignon blanc - "Don't want you getting too tipsy for tractor rides!" he joked. I sipped politely as Leo stuffed an entire cookie into his mouth. I prayed he didn't accidentally inhale a crumb - Lord knows the Heimlich maneuver in a 10,000 thread-count apron would be an experience.

After we had picked our way through the charcuterie, Ethan suggested a pastoral stroll. I pulled my Keds from the bag - wouldn't want to track in actual dirt from the fields. As we ambled through the meticulous rows of grapes, Ethan named each variety in Latin terms I'd never attempt to pronounce. Leo was enchanted by the purplish orbs clinging to the brown vines as far as the eye could see. "It smells like fruit punch out here!" he declared, inhaling the sweet perfume. Ethan gave me a look I very well understood that clearly said, 'Remember our first time here? We were hungrily eating each other...'. I gave him a roaring lion-like look in return which he responded with a tongue stuck out like a dead.

Our peerless peasant continued to edify us on the vinicultural process as we toured his workshops and warehouses more high-tech than NASA- I thought at that moment. Poor Leo's brain seemed on the verge of overload from all this cultivation knowledge. By the time we climbed Ethan's posh farm vehicle( I didn't dare ask what they call it) for the grounds tour, I expected the grapes we'd sniff to be Turnbladian or Merlotithian or some such nonsense. As we bounced over rolling pastures, Leo shouted with glee. "Sorry folks don't do this in city parks!" called Ethan with a laugh.

After that, we arrived at his palatial private lake. Oh god, it looked straight out of a movie. Leo flung himself in and this time without any floaties. I let him because I wasn't scared for Leo around Ethan. I dipped my feet shyly, scared of any contaminants in the luxury waters but Ethan assured me the koi were regularly deloused. Afterward, he had the audacity to suggest we retire to his chateau for more civilized delights - champagne and caviar, perhaps, or a harp recital in the solarium. But I am a poor little woman so I demurred, using the excuse of Leo's bedtime to duck out of any further frivolity. What I really wanted was a bowl of cereal and Netflix - the height of luxury, in my book. But Ethan wasn't the one to back off.

After toweling off and squeezing the unpleasant lake water from my swimsuit in a rather undignified manner, Ethan suggested we head back to the ranch house.

But first, displaying the suave confidence of Cary Grant meeting Audrey Hepburn for a picnic, he turned to me and said "Clara, would you be a dear and hand over your house keys? I've arranged a little something special for you and Leo back at the cottage."