The Makeover by Karen Buscemi Page A

Henry pushed a present wrapped in thick striped paper to Camellia. “Why don’t you open your present?”
    She set her cup and saucer on the stone floor in front of the fireplace, and handed Henry his present. “No, you first,” she commanded.
    Henry smiled, turning the rectangular package in his hands. “I can’t imagine what it could be.”
    “Then I guess you better open it.”
    He tore the paper and lifted the lid of the box. “Sunglasses?”
    “Not just any sunglasses,” she replied, cracking open the lid of the case.
    “Oh, nice choice,” Henry said, lifting the glasses and admiring the design.
    “I figured a life on the water required serious shades,” she explained proudly.
    “A life on the water?”
    “Have you any idea how many lakes there are in Michigan?”
    Henry tried on the sunglasses, modeling them for Camellia. “Somebody’s been doing her h omework. Are we going to become sailors, then?”
    Camellia thought about that for a minute. How decadent it would be to have their own sailboat, taking little voyages together and making friends with glorious yacht owners. “Maybe we shall,” she said, nodding her approval.
    “I’m so glad you’re getting excited about the move. The truck will be here on the second, so we’re going to need some excitement in our blood to get this apartment packed up in time.”
    Camellia’s expression turned serious. “Aren’t we hiring movers?”
    “Yes, but we still have to be careful with our finances for awhile, and we already agreed to be a little indulgent with Christmas presents. According to our lease, we have to keep paying for the apartment for three more months, and I won’t start getting paid immediately. So we have to box up our own stuff. The movers will get everything into and out of the truck.
    “Fun.”
    “Ah, it will keep us occupied,” Henry said, pushing the sunglasses onto his head.
    “Will it ever.”
    “Okay, Mrs. Sarcasm, let’s settle you down with a present, shall we?”
    Eyes wide, Camellia reached for her present, delicately pulling at the tape. Keeping the paper perfectly intact, she slid it away, revealing a pretty red case. She raised her eyebrows at Henry then opened the lid, revealing a gleaming solid-gold bracelet with a heart attached to it.
    “It’s a charm bracelet,” Henry explained, lifting it from the case and attaching it to her outstretched wrist. “The heart represents my love for you. As we venture into this new chapter of our lives, I’ll add charms to the bracelet that represent all the good things we find along the way.”
    “Henry,” Camellia said softly, her eyes filled with tears. “You are the sweetest man I have ever known.” She pressed her weight into him, kissing him deeply. He pulled her on top of him and ran his hands down her backside, pressing her against his erection. Within seconds, he had her undressed and pinned beneath him on the plush rug. She giggled from the tickle of the rug against her bare skin, and spread her legs to welcome Henry inside her, which was as warm and inviting as the dancing fire.
     
     
     
    They spent the week between Christmas and New Year’s taping together boxes Henry had ordered from the moving company and thoughtfully placing their lives into them. They split up the duties, with Henry focusing on the kitchen, and Camellia dealing with their master closet and bathroom. Before tackling the closet, Camellia perched on one of the oversized leather cubes positioned in the center of the space and surveyed her collection.
    The closet was a fashion-lover’s dream, with floor-to-ceiling white cabinetry, soft shelf lighting, and a dazzling chandelier. Her collection was well edited: classic suiting and day dresses mixed with eye-catching cocktail wear and couture gowns. And then there were the bags and shoes. Every style, by every major designer, in every color was lined up in perfect rows for easy viewing. Henry’s section was just as impressive, with numerous