She just stared at me with scorching brown eyes. After a while I offered, "Okay, you can use this side, I'll take the other one. I don't mind the mess that the idiots leave half as much as you do." I stood and walked down the stairs. I didn't get to the door. Something pushed me up against the wall, and before I knew it, lips were against mine. Smooth and soft, but the kiss was rough. I wrenched my eyes open--they'd closed in defense to the shove--to see an impossible sight. Patricia was holding my wrists against the wall, pushing her body against mine. She kissed me again, not releasing my limbs. "What's going on? Are you drunk?" I asked when I could breathe again. Patricia released my wrists and stepped away from me. "I did offer to help, didn't I?" "Again, what's going on?" She sighed and started pacing, "Okay, what I tell you will not reach anyone else's ears, you got me?" I rolled my eyes involuntarily, "Duh." "I want to have sex with you," she stated simply. I just. . as far as I know. 'You decent?' Kris' response was a smile. 'I always try to be, Dad. What do you think?' My heart was somewhere around my Adam's apple, but I managed a response. 'I think you're the second-most beautiful bride I've ever seen. Tomorrow, when you go up the aisle, every woman there is going to be pea-green with envy. I just wish your Mom...' 'Me too. Wearing her gown almost makes up for her being gone... No, that's not right. Nothing can make up for that, but I feel connected to her. Make sense?' 'As much as you want. So, the gown fits?' 'Oh, yes! Aunt Myra did a great job with the alterations. Not that it needed much. I'm only an inch-and-a-half taller than Mom and about two inches bigger everywhere else except my waist. We're both twenty-four inches there.' 'Well, you can thank your Great-Grandmother Olafson for the extra inches. I came up to let you know dinner will be served within the hour. How does Madame wish to dress?' 'Evening wear. For you, the charcoal grey.
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