Mick Returns to Reconnect

"Is that Jimmy Walter's mother?"

"Yes."

"She was my drawing teacher at high school and I adored her for her talent. Um there's something you..."

"About you peeing in the fountain pond at midday? Don't even talk about it son. Doris told me about it before calling you. We all have minor blips from our past Mick, or at least many of us do. When I was sixteen I took my mother's car without her permission. I was showing off to my mates doing wheelies in it on Bracken's Meadow and rolled it and the car and I ended up submerged in the pond. Your misadventure was minor compared with mine. Mum grounded me for two years but after a week relented. You know she didn't hit me and stopped dad from walloping me."

"No I didn't know that." Mick laughed.

Richard said cheerfully they had the promising basis for an excellent working relationship.

Mick took a waiting call and then called his best mate in Wellington.

"It's Mick, getting your end in excessively buddy?"

Ronnie sighed and said Mick would learn that was not one of the outcomes to expect when one married.

"What about you Mick, are you getting it?"

"I'm in a drought Rex; my dick will have forgotten what to do when faced with pussy. I'm calling about your decision to join me; already I have the prospect of a commission that will involve inspired structural engineering."

"What for, a grain silo on a farm?"

"Actually it's Balmoral's new art gallery and methinks the Mayor will be spending big to make his reign contributing something of substance. He and his wife probably will make a substantial donation and drive the project and hope to have it named after them."

"An art gallery you say. Oh boy we could win distinction if we pull out all stops creatively."

"That's also my thinking boyo."

"Mick it will be perhaps six weeks before I can shift permanently providing I can bring Janice around to relocating but I've noticed she's twice visited Balmoral pages on the web in the last few days. I'll come and stay with you on Friday for a day or so while we nut out a grand design that will knock the caps off your local yokels."

"Thanks mate. See you. Give Janice a double nipple twist to remind her that I think she's got a great pair. Has she got over me vomiting while making the Best Man's speech at your wedding?"

"She's stopped talking about you and so that's indicative of progress I guess."

"In that case bring Janice and for a long weekend and I'll arrange gentle acclimatization with the locality and some choice inhabitants for her to natter with."

That evening Melody arrived with her parents and she looked glorious in 'short white' (short at both ends).

"Goodness this is nothing like the pigsty I expected," Sylvia Burton said.

"Mum!"

"Ah good evening Mrs Burton and to you Denis. I must say Mrs Burton your hair stylist would be ahead of Wellington's best."

Mother and daughter momentarily looked at the architect almost as if he'd just said the filthiest profanity ever mouthed.

"Why thank you Mick," Sylvia said, recovering from shock. "I never would have thought that you would praise me sincerely about my hair or for that matter even know how to make a compliment."

"Mum!"

Mick shook Denis' hand and circled the waist of Melody and said, "You look gorgeous in the stunning dress Miss Burton, good enough to eat. Where should I begin to nibble?"

"That sounds more like the Mick Dobbins I remember."

"Sylvia that's enough," said Denis and said he was dry.

"I'll get you a beer and wine for you mum," Melody said walking to the fridge in the open kitchen at the end of the long living room.

"Oh flowers thanks Mrs Burton," Mick said warmly. "These look too good to have come from a florist."

"Quite right, they are from my garden," Sylvia said expansively as if talking to her best friend.

Melody opened the fridge shaking her head as if she couldn't believe the words flowing from their host's previous undetected silver-plated mouth.

During dinner when Melody was helping Mick to clear away the main course dishes and her parents were huddled looking at a portfolio of Mick's architectural completions over the past eight years on his Microsoft Surface Boo computer, he banged his hip against Melody and she looked unusually serious.

"I need to know."

"What? Um are you asking to be invited to stay the night?"

She said well that was progress and watched Mick's smile fading as he obviously interpreted that to signal 'tonight's not the night'.

He muttered he'd been hoping they'd rut.

"Keep your leg against mine and look busy and looking ahead unless you wish to invited mum to bury her nosey beak in our direction."

Mick was happy to heed her request and rely on her wisdom. For the first time he realized Melody was not over-enchanted by her mother's tendency to intervene with an edge of bitchiness.

"Mick I need to know if I'm on the way back to being your exclusive girlfriend again."

"Yeah sure, absolutely."

"What so long as you get your end in?"

He turned to look at her and she read his eyes and swallowed.

"Mel the truth is I returned to Balmoral not knowing what to expect from you, whether we were actually finished after such a long break of nine years and three months and that apprehensiveness was fuelled when I had found you were living with a guy from your office. When I arrived to settle back here, I learned with delight you were back living at home."

"That was great and means so far so good, but what next: are we to fully engage and I mean into more than sex such as integrating our interests to expand our relationship and whether motivates us what other steps to take?"

Melody said almost breathlessly, "Yes more than anything I wish to plough ahead with you Michael John Dobbins. You are the only male who has taken me to the verge of being totally overwhelmed and night and day I would spend moments thinking about you, thinking about the pleasure I had from knowing I was your girl and you were my guy and we didn't have to talk about that particular thing because we both knew. You are now thirty and I'm practically thirty and it's time to move on Mick and my desire is to move on together."

"Wow we are at the crossroads."

"Please don't joke Mick and I'll be devastated if you say "Let's fuck' as if it's a throw-away line."

"God you are serious then and I'd like you to know your declarations tonight clear my mind about us and I say let's talk marriage soon."

"Oh Mick."

"What?"

"Oh Mick."

He grinned and said, "I know and will let you into a secret; on rare occasions my emotions also run riot and give me with feebleness inflicting the brain."

"Mick you have made me so happy. We'll hold off sex until next Saturday night and make it special. Leave the arrangements to me. Now mum is looking this way, come on."

They carried a plate of desert in each hand and Mick swung in front of Melody, making her stop abruptly, they both holding their plates aside to avoid a ceramic collusion.

Mick kissed Melody tenderly.

"You two appear to have learned there is more to canoodling than bared lust."

"Oh the fires are still there Sylvia but you are right, we two now benefit in embracing maturity."

"Since when have I become Sylvia to you?"

"It was my decision Sylvia and if you don't accept that then tough."

Sylvia appeared unmoved but said, "Say something Denis."

"Um this is a very good evening and you youngsters look great together."

"Ah yes and I couldn't agree more," Sylvia said, patting a side of her hair.

Mick grinned, eyeing the daughter looking at her mother, gaping.

* * *

Mick was briefed on Melody's arrangement for Saturday. They would go to a movie, have late dinner and spend the night in a suite at the Grand Mariner Hotel, all at her expense.

But Mick said he had an earlier commitment that night. Melody's face fell but he said he had planned for her to accompany him and that she should dress formally.

"It's just a blip but from about 9:00 we'll be back on track for your planned night with Mick."

Melody smiled and said it loomed as a memorable night marking their way forward.

On Monday Mick met the Mayor and his two cultural advisers and he was astonished when his former drawing teacher Mrs Dianne Walters, now president of the Arts Society, hugged and kissed him on the cheek and said it was a delight after a gap of many years to meet one of her favourite male students again.

Mayor Ladbrook grinned and then began outlining in broad detail what the town needed by way of a new art gallery to meet present and future needs.

Mick handed across a memory stick that held representative examples of his work as an architect over eight years that the Mayor plugged that to his laptop and the sketches and photographs of completed projects appeared on a big wall screen.

Of particular interest to the small group was an indoor centre for dog show judging and dog training surrounded by tiered seating for 4500 people and an intimate theatre for a high school with full facilities including seating for 800 people. The facades of both buildings were contemporary and looked rather stunning.

The Mayor made a phone call and he said, "Mick we may take this matter further with you but first I must review those designs again with my team and we'll discuss the possibility of inviting you to submit a concept drawing, with an incentive payment of $3000 and with copyright to remain with the designer of course, as was the case with our four unsuccessful submitters. My PA Mrs Jarvis is on her way here to take you for coffee and I'll page her when to return you here."

Mick drove home elated with a cheque for $3000 in his wallet giving him a tilt at securing the rather modest structure by city standards because Balmoral was a town rather than a big city. Mick had been briefed to produce a concept that would cost no more than $18 million to build. If his design was accepted and his practice was commissioned to proceed with working drawings and then supervised construction it would be a dream start to establish in Balmoral as architects with in-house engineering and surveying services and the gallery project, if he won the contract would produce a huge cash flow for such a small firm.

Mayor Ladbrook had revealed the council had been putting aside money for the new gallery for twelve years and had attracted bequests for such a project from citizens prior to their death. Some Government money would be available and long-term loans would be raised.

Mick drove home where he left his car and walked to the pub to meet with three former high school pals. He wouldn't say anything about the commission except to Melody. He'd tell her when he felt the time was right and she promised to tell no one.

* * *

A taxi with Melody and Mick aboard pulled up in a line of vehicles outside the Playhouse Theatre for the gala opening of its latest production Love Amid Chaos.

"Mick are you sure we should be here, you hate ballet, theatre and especially opera?"

"Sweetheart time rolls on and I no longer involve myself in bike racing, binge drinking, hanging out with the boys and urinating against fountains. It's alleged I'm afflicted with growing maturity."

"The architectural practice I worked with in Wellington was a sponsor of the local arts society and I had to dress up in a penguin suit and attend events with fellow practice partners and wives/girlfriends/mistresses."

"You?"

"Yes and incrementally it happened, I became converted."

"Omigod."

"Yes but actually it wasn't conversion into a religious sect but I guess the similarity is there."

"Mick you know I adore theatre and ballet."

"No I never knew that."

"Are you teasing?"

"Guilty," he said, taking her hand as they joined the noisy crowd inching forward into the theatre.

Melody was surprised they were shown into a box with another couple and she knew them, Max Prior headed the firm that catered for principal functions for the District Council and his wife Nita was a former world-class longer distance runner who'd won multiple national titles and won an international half-marathon event for women prior to retirement.

They chatted and were served complimentary champagne and the society's president Kevin Owens and his wife Meg called in to greet them, and that made Melody feel rather special.

Shortly after that Kevin appeared on stage in front of the curtain and welcomed everyone and introduced the producer of the play. Mrs Smeaton delivered the usual praise for the hard-working director and cast and back-stage personnel.

Kevin then announced details of the next production with rehearsals to commence in two weeks.

A spotlight then illuminated the box where Mick and Melody were seated and the society's president said he had pleasure in announcing two new generous sponsorships.

"Please stand Mr Prior, managing director of Priority Catering Ltd. Welcome Max and the society is grateful for you joining us as a Gold Level sponsor. That means your firm will contribute $5000 a year for three years. Thank you Max."

The audience clapped.

"Please stand Mr Dobbins. We are particularly pleased that Michael John Dobbins who prefers to be called Mick has returned to live in Balmoral. The town and district will benefit because Mick is an architect of growing repute and already has two national architecture awards to his credit. Although Mick is not quite ready to open his practice here, having only arrived back earlier this week, he too has become a Gold Level sponsor and will contribute $5000 a year for three years. Thank you Mick and I see you are accompanied by Melody Barton our District Council's charismatic public relations officer. Melody also is proving to be an asset to this town for her work in effectively interfacing the council with the people."

"Christ I wasn't aware you were famous," Mick muttered, as applause broke out.

Melody squeezed his hand and with them still in the spotlight Mick could see the flush.

"Who is Kevin Owens?"

Melody said he was Judge Kevin Owens.

Unnoticed, Mick face lost colour for a few seconds.

* * *

In the hotel suite they ignored the bottle of complimentary champagne.

With only concealed downlights in the living room switched on, Melody whispered, "This is it."

"Yeah," Mick replied with obvious interest.

"Will you let it be my show, at least initially?"

"Yeah of course."

They remained standing and Melody pressed her mouth over his and they kissed gently and after a while their tongues touched and gradually began to a flick, the first time following a gap of nine years and three months and he mentioned that gap.

"Nine years and three months."

"Yeah and I calculated this morning plus 21 days."

"Omigod, my architect who has attention to detail."

"Thanks and I'm impressed that you have been identified as being charismatic."

"Ooh I almost wet my pants when he said that. Um were you surprised to learn he was a judge?"

"Nah."

"The truth now."

"Hmmm... I suppose I can admit of almost crapping myself. Something buried deep within me emerged almost gasping."

"Guilt?"

"I suppose so. But listen, are we going to fuck?"

Melody's reply came by way of beginning to undress him.

"Let's not hurry," she whispered. "Mick don't let this irritate you but I have to ask for greater clarity: is there a real chance we'll marry?"

"Only small things irritate me," he chuckled and tensed slightly as one of her hands brushed over his dick.

Melody appeared to be holding her breath and it released when he said, "I think there's fuck-all chance of me allowing you to disappearing from my side again. I predict there will be a wedding, with your swooning participation of course."

"Omigod."

"What does my elegance in language impress you?"

"Mick you are Mick and I have no desire for you to change too much. I'm attracted to you because I've never known you to be contentedly smug, a fucking know-all or attempting to dominate me, er apart from your thrusting and that's a bit of a memory."

"You were born with a bit of yahoo in you and that may never completely disappear. But you've learned things and relate to people much better and in particularly you appear to have the ability to deal with difficult people. My mother with all her rudeness doesn't appear to anger you and twice I've seen you knock her into a speed wobble by your directness and I can't recall ever seeing her react like that to anyone else."

"Ah what about your dad?"

"You have to be joking. Here's the best example that occurred the other night at your apartment. Suddenly and apparently for no reason you called her Sylvia instead of Mrs Burton and she attempted a rebuke you but it came out entirely without the usual fire. I believe she knew she'd met her match."

"Aw Mel, that sounds rather like kite-flying. May we get on with it?"

"Sure honey and do I have a moist pussy for you. I'm opting for cowgirl."

--//--