Grand Passion

Cleo and I have not discussed marriage.”
    “You sure?”
    “Yes, I'm sure. It's not leaking at all now.” Max was aware of a pleasing sense of satisfaction. He was getting good at this plumbing business. “Dry as the Sahara.” He started to work himself out from the tight confines of the sink cabinet.
    “Shit, Max, will you stop talking about the damn pipe?” Ben's face was tight with worry. “Why haven't you asked Cleo to marry you? We all know you're sleeping with her.”
    “What's that got to do with it?” Max flattened one palm on the countertop and levered himself to his feet. He winced at the twinge in his thigh.
    “What do you mean?” Ben demanded. “You know damn well what I'm talking about. We've all known Cleo for a long time. As far as anyone in the family knows, you're the first guy she's ever been serious about.”
    “What makes you think she's serious about me?” Max turned on the faucet full force again and leaned down to study the pipe connection under the sink. There was no sign of moisture around the fittings.
    He realized it was probably idiotic to take so much satisfaction out of the knowledge that he had repaired the leak, but he couldn't help it. Nothing like a little immediate, short-term gratification to take a man's mind off bigger problems, he thought.
    “Don't give me that,” Ben said. “Cleo wouldn't be sleeping with you if she weren't serious about you. Come on, Max, quit jerking my chain. You're going to marry her, aren't you?”
    “Yes.” Max turned off the faucet and wiped his hands on the rag. “But first I've got to talk her into it, which might be a lot harder than you seem to think.”
    “Why?” Ben looked baffled.
    “Because you and the others put her under a lot of pressure last night when you made your big announcement,” Max said with a patience he did not feel. “She was just getting used to me. She was nowhere near ready to talk about marriage. Now the whole family is acting like it's a fait accompli.”
    “What's a fait accompli?”
    “A done deal.”
    “Oh.” Ben frowned. “You think she's really upset?”
    “As I said, she's feeling pressured. People do weird things when they're under pressure.”
    Ben looked suitably alarmed. “Like what?”
    “Like dig in their heels and make life difficult for the people they think are trying to pressure them.”
    Ben nodded in sober comprehension. “But you can handle her, can't you?”
    “First I've got to get her to start talking to me again.” Max tossed the wet rag into the tool kit.
    Ben brightened. “That shouldn't be any problem. Cleo likes to talk.”

    Trisha whisked dirty plates and glasses off one of the dining room tables and stacked them in a plastic tub. “Do you want to talk about it, Cleo?”
    “No.” Cleo bundled up a tablecloth and the used napkins from another table. The familiar routine of clearing the dining room after the small breakfast crowd had departed was doing nothing to soothe her nerves this morning. She had spent a sleepless night, and she felt as if she were walking an invisible tightrope.
    “We know you're a little upset, Cleo,” Sylvia said from the other side of the empty dining room. Dishes clattered cheerfully as she removed them from a table. “But I'm sure you'll feel better if you talk about it.”
    “What is there to say?” Cleo jerked another tablecloth off a table with enough force to make it snap in the air. “I have been humiliated, embarrassed, and generally mortified beyond belief.”
    Andromeda appeared in the doorway. “Now, dear, there's no need to be so agitated. We all know how you feel about Max.”
    Cleo scanned the expectant faces of her friends. “You do? Well, that's just ducky. I'm glad somebody does, because I don't.”
    Sylvia smiled gently. “Cleo, let's get real here. You're sleeping with him.”
    “So what?” Cleo said.
    Trisha exchanged a glance with the others. “Between us, we've known you for over three years, Cleo. This is the first time any of us has seen you really interested in a man.”
    Andromeda smiled serenely. “This is definitely the first time you've had an affair during the whole time I've been acquainted with you, dear.”
    Sylvia dropped another stack of plates into the bin. “Admit it, Cleo, Max is something special.”
    “That doesn't mean he wants to marry me,” Cleo muttered.
    Trisha glanced at her, astonished. “What are you talking about? He said he was going to marry you. I heard him