Arrival

Proserpina

I had prepared Lucien’s favorite dishes, knowing that my Mafia Don relished a hearty meal when he returned from any trip.

This evening, I had put together for dinner a massive spread: strawberry balsamic chicken thighs that my lover thoroughly enjoyed, crown roast of pork with mushroom dressing which was another of his favorites, and of course, slowly simmered Burgundy beef stew, which he swore was his comfort food.

For dessert, I had prepared Chiffon pie and a Lady Baltimore cake that I knew Philippe loved. But to my dismay, poor Rudy came down with a fever by mid-morning and was cranky and quite unlike his usual robust and cheerful self; he kept hankering for me to carry him, and I was in the nursery when I heard the sound of Lucien returning.

“Woman!,’ he bellowed as was his wont as he entered the hall, and I left the room, aware that I looked flushed and messy in my worn old yoga pants and the Indian blouse that had seen better days. But I had changed into the first clo