At last. At last, at last. Lillian quickly squelched the trills of laughter that threatened to bubble out. Shh. Hush, now. He's asleep and needs his rest. But the satisfaction remained. Finally she had him all to herself and it was all just as wonderful as she had imagined it to be. Alone, at last! No more hospital, no more doctors, no more tests and treatments. Yes Doctor, no Doctor, three bags full Doctor. Yes, I'll be a good little girl and rest. No, I won't try to do too much too soon. You and how many armies are suffering from the sad pathetic delusion that you are actually going to make me take those stupid horse pills that leave you all loopy and goofy? Incompetents. Fools. I wouldn't miss this for the world, the solar system, or even the universe! Dreaming, planning for this moment for weeks, months, years now. And, now, now, now! Everything had come to fruition exactly on schedule, including the presence of the guest of honor here in her arms. How did that line from T. S. Eliot go again? "O joy, o rupture! O frabjous day, calloo, callay!"
On the sideboard out in the sitting room, there were several plates laden with fresh fruits and vegetables, cheese and crackers, nibble foods rather than the usual full formal meal. The mini-fridge by the bar was carefully stocked with an assortment of bottles. It was Mrs. Ulverston's night off so she had dismissed the rest of the penthouse staff as well, except for the security team downstairs in the lobby, so tonight it was just simple snacks and easy cleanup. Lillian had had to insist that they go and enjoy their time, reassuring everyone that things would be just fine! Goodness, it had taken them forever to finally leave but, in the end, leave they had and now the place was peaceful and dark, a haven just for the two of them. All the fiddly details taken care of so they could do just as they pleased with no distractions. Normally, she liked having servants but nights like this required the utmost privacy!
The first item on the evening's agenda had been a warm bath, taken together, in the sumptuous bathroom that was part of her suite. Mmmm, she did love her oversized sunken marble tub with the extra wide edges (lots of room for candles, books and toiletries) and she loved it even more now that there was someone to share it with her!! Ordinarily a shower would have been the more practical option but practicality was the last thing on her mind tonight. Mmmm, it was a good world that had fluffy Egyptian cotton towels in it and a better world that had invented electric towel warmers to go with them. Even her regular baby shampoo had acquired a new significance this evening. Simply because he was there!
Now with bath time over and dinnertime done it was time for the bedroom. Alone together in her special room, her boudoir, decorated just as she had dreamed of so often as a child. The fragrance wafting from the vases of fresh flowers of every color, shape and size. In the background the muted sound of her favorite Mozart playing on the stereo. The room was lit by a few scented candles placed here and there, a real wood fire crackling away in the fireplace with her family pictures and knickknacks lined up on the mantel.
And what a boudoir it was! Her mother would have taken one look and promptly fainted in shock at the dcor. Berber carpet in warm cream for the floor. Chinese silk wall coverings in cream and lavender. Hyacinth velvet over cream sheers at the windows. Pratesi sheets dyed lilac, embroidered with her name in royal purple. Enough poofy pillows in matching shams to supply a sorority pledge-week pillow fight. The most marvelous light-as-air down-filled duvet, covered in an amazingly beautiful shade of deep violet. Her Private Purple Paradise, done in every shade of the one color Mother had never let her near growing up. Heh. See if Lillian ever went near taupe again without a gun to her head. The only things that would have met with any approval would be the authentic William and Mary furniture but in typical fashion Mother would have decried the sky-high prices required for such quality pieces while lusting after every stick of the burnished cherry wood.
She lay flat on her back in the middle of her bed, holding him against her, feeling him, smelling him. She had opened up the bathrobe she wore so that they could be skin-to-skin and oh! The sensation, the connection, the bonding of it was every bit as wonderful as they said it could be in the books she had read. It was marvelous, delicious, indescribable. She could do this for hours, days, weeks, alone, just the two of them. Too bad Lionel had to work late tonight and couldn't join them, too bad for him that he had to miss his own share of such bliss. Next time, perhaps, once she tried to explain it to him.
Lillian understood, finally, about her parents and why they had behaved they way they had. In the light of her new knowledge, she could see into some of the dark corners of Lionel Luthor's soul and how his upbringing had painted them black forever. But in her eyes the whole world was shiny and new, full of the most wonderful things to explore. It was a little like having your life tilted on its axis, 90 or even 180. Some of it scary, some of it kind of familiar and all of it simply amazing. All of it due to Alexander Joseph Luthor who was one month, one week and one day old today here in his mother's arms.
She did laugh out loud finally. Alexander shifted his head, made a snuffling noise that sounded both interrogatory and disapproving to his mother's ears (Hello! Sleeping here, do you mind?) and promptly fell back asleep against Lillian's heart with his little left fist curled tight next to his mouth. She cuddled her son a little closer, marveled again at the wisps of red hair on his small head (Wow, that's bright. Really, really bright.), kissed him and proceeded to fall into a light doze herself.
Lionel let himself into the penthouse and was brought up short by the unexpected dark and quiet. It was later than he expected but the meeting had been unusually productive, the results could well see LuthorCorp several more notches higher on the Fortune 500. But where were all the servants? And that damned expensive English nanny, Mrs. Culbertson or Albertson or whatever the hell her name was? Had they really left his wife and newborn son all alone to fend for themselves? Except for the security team downstairs in the lobby, it appeared that they had done exactly that. Incompetents. Fools. Obviously the only real solution was to add even more staff, even a second nanny, so that this sort of oversight could never happen again.
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