Page 23 of Beau Pair
Beau
“Icannot believe I’m about to have dinner with Lacey-fu—”
I dry-cough to stop her swearing in front of Elsie again.
Instead, she mouths it, but I still give her an evil glare.
“You’ve already been told she prefers Dolly. And will you shut it? I’m trying to finish feeding her, so I can put her to bed.”
“Sorry,” she says, and passes the sippy cup to Elsie, so she can drink some water.
“Zoh,” Elsie says, and giggles, looking at Zoe.
“That’s right, Elsie. That’s Zoe. Say. Zo-eee.” I try to correct her, but considering she still calls me Bobo, I don’t have high hopes yet.
“Shut up. She’s saying it just fine”.
She tickles Elsie's neck, who ends up spitting out the mouthful I just gave her. Zoe apologizes before I have the chance to give her my evil glare. Again.
At least she knows she did something wrong.
By the time I brush Elsie’s teeth and take her to bed, Gordon and Dolly have arrived. I hear the car coming in and the door opening. Hopefully, Elsie can’t.
She’s almost asleep when the bedroom door opens and Dolly creeps in to see her daughter. And wake her up.
“Oh, don’t worry, sweetie. I’ll put her to sleep. You go downstairs. Order takeout. I’ll be down when she’s out,” she says, and takes Elsie in her arms.
I give in and leave the room.
“Hey, baby girl. Did you miss mommy? Are you looking forward to our two weeks together? Huh? Yes,” she coos at Elsie just as I close the door behind me.
I find Gordon and Zoe in the kitchen going through his selection of wine on the wall and deciding which one the occasion calls for.
Gordon notices me and the skin on his face turns rosy pink, but I have no clue why. Have they been talking about me? Or is he just feeling hot in here? Or maybe his cheeks are always pink like this and I’ve never noticed.
Pfff.
I’ve noticed, and that’s not their color. In fact, I can almost draw him from scratch just from the images in my mind. I would attempt to make him a suit by estimating his measurements, but that wouldn’t be a great way to use up any sort of fabric, so I still have to find the balls to ask him. And the peace of mind to do it without self-combusting.
So what if I still haven’t managed to design anything for him yet? One would think being so full of ideas and anticipation would translate to something tangible. But everything I made felt wrong.
“You can never go wrong with Malbec,” Zoe tells Gordon.
“Yeah, but same goes for Sangiovese. I’ve got a 1999 bottle that I’ve yet to open,” he tells her.
“Look. Westartwith these things. If you’ve got a 1999 Sancho Vases, then that’s what we lead with,” she replies, and Gordon laughs.
“You have no idea what that is, do you?”
“No. But it’s old and sounds expensive, so fuck it. Let’s open it,” Zoe deadpans, and Gordon reaches for it, cackling.
“Are you sure you want to waste a 1999 Sangiovese on her?” I ask, and go to stand by the kitchen island.
“Show-off,” Zoe mumbles, and Gordon turns around, amazement drawn on his face.
“You’ve tried Sangiovese?” he asks.
“I’ve tried a lot. My mom lived in France in her twenties and thirties, so she brought her love of wine with her and shared it with me from a young age. But we don’t share that bit of information in case anyone wants to lock her up for child abuse,” I laugh.
