Draw Me A Picture by Meredith Greene Page B

sign above the doors read The Flagon.
    Weaving their way through the other pedestrians the two companions paused at the restaurant entrance to shake and close their soaking umbrellas.
    “After you,” William said, holding the door. Michelle smiled as she went in. A warm cloud of air met her inside the atrium. A stout, cheerful-looking man--clad in a green vest and shirt-sleeves--grinned at them.
    “Welcome to The Flagon!” he called out heartily. “Mr. Montgomery,” he nodded at William. “Another guest today, then?” The man held out his hands for their coats.
    As Michelle unbuttoned her coat, she looked around the long, low room. It appeared styled after an English pub with dark leather chairs, polished wood fixtures and a genuine, crackling fireplace. The ambiance of the room felt unusually comfortable, for a mere eating establishment. Turning back towards William, Michelle caught his expression. He seemed to be studying her outfit with frank admiration. Blushing, Michelle looked at the greeter and handed him her coat. Much to her embarrassment, the man in the green vest winked at her. William stepped a bit closer to his guest.
    “You look... very nice, Michelle,” he said, clearing his throat. Michelle resisted batting her eyes at him; her skirt wasn’t that short.  
    “Thank you. Is your mother here already?” she asked, looking around the main room.
    William swallowed and pretended to look for his mum. Michelle looked a bit more fun and comfortable than last night, though he was quite partial to that pink dress of hers. However, this little, red skirt and feminine blouse looked downright seductive, yet she managed to appear completely unaware of it. Trying to clear his mind, William searched for his mother. Spying a familiar hat across the room, he took Michelle’s hand and led the way toward the table. The green-vested man scooped up a few menus and followed them.
    As they approached a far table William’s mother looked up. Immediately she noted that her son was holding the hand of a pretty, young woman. She beamed. Getting to her feet, the lady held out her arm gracefully to William. Her son kissed her on the cheek in greeting and turned to Michelle. His guest appeared to be a little uncomfortable, a rather forced smile on her face.
    “Mother, I’d like to introduce...”
    “Michelle. Yes, I know,” his mother interrupted, still smiling. “You told me all about her at breakfast. I’m not losing my memory yet, my boy.” She turned to her son's guest; her kindly expression evaporated what fears Michelle held. “My dear, how nice of you to join us,” the woman said. “Don’t you look lovely. Pay no mind to what happened when we met, poor dear. I was overjoyed when William told me that he found you...”
    William coughed, pulling out a chair for his mother.
    “Please sit,” he told her, patiently. Sporting a tolerant smile, the older woman complied. William held Michelle’s chair for her as well; his guest took her seat, feeling much more at ease.
    “I hope you’ll accept my apology for my behavior that day, Mrs. Montgomery,” Michelle said, looking at William’s mother.
    “Nonsense,” the woman said, blithely. She patted Michelle’s hand. “My name is Margaret, my dear. ‘Mrs. Montgomery’ was my mother-in-law... an unpleasant woman. It is very good to see you! I simply adore the picture you drew of William. It is superb; you are singularly talented. All of my friends in Vermont are quite jealous and want to know whom the elusive artist is and if they do commissioned work...”
    Overwhelmed by the flood of goodwill coming from Margaret, Michelle was rendered speechless.
    “My dear madam,” William began, trying to hide his smile. His date seemed rather flustered. “Do take a breath. My guest has no intention of running off, I think.” Recovering herself, Michelle gave William a narrow look. Satisfied, William turned to contemplate his menu.
    “I am glad you like the picture so