Absently responding, Gawain said, “Thanks, but I don’t want another beer.”
Wilfred and his father both looked at each other and in unison agreed, “Woman trouble.”
Gawain looked up and saw the two staring down at is face. Embarrassed, he realized they had been talking to him. “Sorry, distracted a bit.”
His father asked, “So, what is her name and what does she do?”
Gawain was reluctant to open the door of the conversation hot house, and just shook his head with a noncommittal, “Not now.”
His father pressed, “Yes, son, now. There seems to be a great deal on your mind and I assume that this is serious. How serious is it?”
Gawain exhaled, “Well, Dad, I asked her to marry me and be the mother to my children.”
His father exhaled loudly and patted his son on the back. “Based on your current state of mind, I guess her answer was no?”
How could he find the words to tell his father and brother that he had spent the last eleven months in a hot steamy romance of words over the Internet? More so, how do I explain until a few months ago I had never heard her voice?
Gawain spoke softly, “Guys, I’m not sure what the hell I’m doing.”
His brother jumped to his feet, excited to hear the details. His dad turned his back and took another beer out of the cooler, handing one to Gawain.
“Son, I’m pulling in my line and getting my chair. This you have to explain.” Seating himself close by with Wilfred flanking his right side, Gawain began to explain the whole sad-sack situation, leaving nothing out, including hearing her voice for the first time and even his cheating and getting his researcher to locate her with a photo.
“Son, does she know who you are?”
Shrugging his shoulders, he said, “I gave her enough clues and she is pretty much a genius so she can figure it out.”
They listened intently about the whole six weeks in Asia, the post office boxes, the male spa treatment, the shirt, the pearls, and his current sad state.
His dad stood and headed for the cooler, retrieving bottles of water, offering one to both sons. “Well, in these modern times, I don’t really know what to tell you, son, other than to have a heart-to-heart, then a face-to-face. Online is one thing, the phone is another thing, but how you feel when you look in her eyes will tell you the truth. Real love,” he added, “is standing in the face of adversity as one unit.”
With those final words, he cast his line back into the water and turned his back. His father was not one to mix his fishing with a lot of chatter.
Wilfred placed his beer bottle in the recycle tub and came back and looked deep into his brother’s eyes. “I know I write about love, but I don’t really know how it feels. Can you describe for me what’s going through your mind right now?”
Gawain looked at him as if his request was for half of his liver, yet in the same instance he could answer his question with ease. “I want to get on a plane, fly to Princeton, and walk through that front door and begin to work on making our future. I want to hold her, tell her I adore her, and explain how empty my life was before she arrived and sent me a stupid cactus!”
His father looked over his shoulder and made a grunting sound while lowering the bib on his cap and sinking deeper into his lounger.
“Will, I love her with everything in me, and I am willing to chuck it all in, but I don’t want to live in Jersey. I proposed, but asked her to move. You and I both know I can’t live anywhere that cold.” His voice shook with emotion. “What if she doesn’t love me enough to make the sacrifice?”
His father turned and said over his shoulder, “If you truly loved her that much, it wouldn’t matter where you lived now would it? Just stay inside in the winter.” With those words, all became quiet and Gawain was left to ponder how to pull it all together.
34
The Duchess & The Knight
Later that afternoon, Gawain stood in the kitchen of his familial home, peering out into his mother’s garden. He smiled fondly when he remembered how he had made enough money to fly Javier in to put an eco-friendly garden in the high dessert. Often times when he was home, he enjoyed having coffee there in the early morning with his mother. Coffee would be good right now.
Cookie, his cousin and the cook for the family, had just started a fresh pot of coffee. He waited patiently at the kitchen counter, mulling over the conversations with his brother and father from earlier in the morning. Elena Devonshire, in her regal glory, entered the kitchen.
The coffee was finished and she poured them both a cup and sat them on the table. Slowly rising from the counter, he joined her at the large kitchen table. Adding two cubes of sugar to her cup and then his, perfectly manicured fingers reached for the creamer, adding a dollop to her own. He refused any while stirring his own cup. Ebony eyes studied his face, yet he said nothing.
“The sixties were a turbulent time,” she started. “At the age of 18, I was defiant and strong-willed. A girl, barely a woman who set my eyes on a young civil rights attorney newly assigned in Washington, DC.”
Elena spoke softly. “My father was the newly appointed Portuguese Ambassador and we had only been in America for six months. The political and social ramifications of my actions rocked the capital. We were at a function at the White House and your father walked in the room. When I laid my eyes on him, he was the most beautiful man I had ever seen in my life.”
The scandal of an interracial marriage during one of the most turbulent racial times in American history was not the wisest choice. “I knew your father was the man I wanted to share my life with, and nothing or no one was going to change my mind.” She smiled as she sipped her coffee. “Your father was making a name for himself, and with me at his side, it was a Catch-22.”
She flicked away a tear. “I was determined to marry your father and I did. My father was disgraced by my actions and resigned his assignment, leaving the US, never to return.”
She clucked. “Your Aunt Marisca stopped speaking to me for almost five years.”
“It was no great loss at the time.” Her eyes filled with tears as she reached across the table and took his hand into her own. “It was a very difficult time for both of us, but there was no better way to learn who your father was and to grow into the woman I was meant to be.”
Sipping on the dark brew, she said, “When I say it was trying, I can count the number of times when Malcolm, Martin, or Medgar would come to our home and balk at the site of me!”
She chuckled in remembrance and he touched her hands as she recounted some of the strongest black males in the civil rights movement. “But when that darn Huey would come to town, I usually had to leave the house.”
Elena went on to add that his father refused to work with or represent any man if he was not going to accept his wife. “I encouraged your father not to let someone else’s prejudice deter him from the larger picture.”
She was still smiling when she spoke to him, “Your father referred Huey’s legal needs to another attorney, letting me know that no man or woman would disrespect me as his wife.” There was a quietness in the kitchen as Gawain took in her words.
“Yuňior,” she said, touching his face. “Your father and I fought against social injustice for 12 years as we tried to make the world a better place for our children and our children’s children.
“When we thought it was a kinder, gentler, and more accepting world, we chose to bring you into it. We were still ahead of our time.” She explained the ugly comments that were made about him from ignorant biased people. “You speak six languages because in your formative years, you were taught at home by me.” A tear slid down her face that she flicked away with the perfectly polished nail on her left index finger.
“Financially, we had stabilized and when you entered school, it was a private one in the DC area assigned for the children of dignitaries.” Elena explained that she had taken a job as a translator for the Embassy in order to secure his education.
“The eighties,”
she explained, “were so much better and we had the twins, moved to Arizona, and led a less active lifestyle.”
“Your father took a job on the bench and I worked special assignments for the Embassy then the governor of Arizona. The times had changed, the fight had changed, but we had not.”
She poured herself a bit more coffee. “He was still the same strong man that I had shared the past twenty years with and I was even more in love at 38 than I had been at 18.” Another tear fell. “We have been married for 50 years and our love has never been stronger. This is what I wish for each of you.” He held her hands.
“My beautiful son, love is not a compromise, but an all-out, give it your all, no holds barred race to the finish, but you must make the journey hand-in-hand.”
The tears had started to flow and he reached in his back pocket to remove a monogrammed handkerchief for her to wipe her tears. “I understand what you are saying, Mamí.”
“No, I don’t think you do, Yuňior.”
Elena explained, “I was hard on you about the young lady in Chicago because you speak six languages and she barely has a grip on one. I spoke to her when you were ill. I had to walk her through how to take care of you. I also wired her money to get the things you needed, because I did not want her to remove anything from your wallet. I called your doctor.” Gawain’s eyes were wide. I didn’t know.
“The woman that permanently shares your pillow should also share your dreams: a dream that you build together. No woman should come in at the tail end of the work and reap the benefits. Either she comes in with equal or more, and from there, meu filho, you build a life.”
Elena paused and looked at him, “I also told her that you love peas.”
Gawain frowned at his mother in disbelief, “but I hate peas!”
His mother gave him a deliciously wicked grin, “I know.” Their eyes met in a private understanding.
“Now,” she said, “I do not know who this new woman is, but I have seen the change in the man you have become in the last eleven months.” Gawain gave her a full-fledged toothy grin and was proud that his mother had noticed his growth.
“Go get my future daughter-in-law and start making me some beautiful grandchildren.”
She held up her hands, palms facing him. “Before these arthritic hands are too gnarled to change my grandbabies’ diapers.”
Gawain hugged his mother closely, thanking her for understanding. He held her tightly for being in his corner even when he hadn’t know she was there. His mother was always his best girl.
“Eu amo-te mãe.” He kissed her cheek and bounded up the stairs two-by-two.
I have some planning to do.
35
The Lady Speaks
Guinevere set the table for dinner with her parents. She knew this night would be the same as any other: her mother harping at her about her lack of a love life, and her sister running off at the mouth about who she loved and left – all of which left Guinevere wanting to head for the door. Delores Murphy brought dinner to the table for her family. Her father sat at the head and blessed the food while her sister was notably quiet.
All eyes were on Guinevere. Scared eyes looked up from the mashed potatoes, she asked, “What?”
Her sister opened the conversation, “Well, what’s his name, when do we meet him and how much do you think those pearls actually cost?”
Guinevere’s hand flew to her throat. She had forgotten she was wearing her new favorite piece of jewelry.
“I know those are Mikimoto’s, so spill the dish, little sis.” Cecily poked a tomato with her fork as she taunted her sister for information.
Her father, Frank, who had been quiet, looked to his daughter, and said, “Sweetheart, I understand that this is a private matter, but it appears that you’re serious about this man, and this has been going on for almost a year. We have been quiet until now.” He left the statement open ended for her to fill it in for them, but she was amazed that they knew the exact time frame without her saying a word.
Tears filled her eyes and she started to cry through the words, “I am head over heels in love with a man I have never seen, touched, or kissed and I only just learned his name.”
Her mother rounded the table and wrapped her in her arms and rocked her gently while she patted her hair and cooed soft words of comfort. No one said a word and each waited patiently for Guinevere to collect the words to explain to her family what had transpired in her life. Blotting the tears from her cheeks, she began to explain to the family the whole insane situation, not leaving out the dance lessons, the mad dash around the city to have the post cards translated, the cactus love child, and the recent conversations.
Her father raised his hand. “So he asked you to marry him and be the mother of his children with the one caveat that he would not live in Jersey?”
Guinevere nodded and said, “In a nut shell.”
Her dad rose and went into the kitchen, returning with a fresh pot of coffee. Pouring a cup for himself and her mother, he seated himself and asked, “So, what are you going to do?”
Guinevere was shocked that there was not more caution or reserve from her parents and she felt slighted, as if Gawain was her last chance.
As if her mother had read her mind, she said, “Darling, you have exceptional judgment of men, and the character of a person. In less than eleven months, this Gawain, as you call him, has gotten you out of your comfort zone. You have taken dance lessons and talked to people you see every day and have never said more than a word to before.” She exhaled as she patted her daughter’s shoulder. “He has already changed your life and you have never even held his hand.”
She kissed her forehead and said, “Imagine what you could achieve if you actually shared a life with him.”
She looked at her mom incredulously. Did she realize what it would take to move her lab, to move her research, to start over somewhere else?
Why do I have to give up everything to accommodate a man?
Why can’t he make the sacrifice for me?
What’s so wrong with New Jersey?
Her sister looked at her with a wry smile. “Sissy, the lab runs on auto pilot. The work on GGU285 is in clinical trial. It is just data compilation. You haven’t started anything new in over a year. Honestly, you can afford to take some long overdue time off. Decide if you want to continue in this field or do something different. Honestly, you need to do something different.” Under her breath she hear Cicely mumble, “God knows I want to.”
She cocked her head to the side, looking at Cecily as if she had grown another nose. “What are you saying, Cecily, to give up everything I have worked for to follow some man?”
Cecily fervently shook her head. “No, I am saying that you have worked hard enough and it’s time for you to enjoy your money. Go get some, throw caution to the wind for a month or so, and then decide if you want to make it permanent.”
He father bristled at the words “get some,” but otherwise agreed, as did her mother, and Guinevere found herself outnumbered three to one.
Her father had the last word before he left the room. “Sweetheart, go, meet him, stare into his eyes, but most of all go and have some fun. If you gave us grandkids, we would be pleased. If I just had someone to fish with, I would be happy.”
She laughed. “Funny, Daddy, he is actually fishing right now with his father and brother in Lake Havasu.”
“Good, bring my son-in-law over so I can get to know the boy.” Everyone laughed at the importance Frank Murphy placed on a man’s ability to fish.
There were no other word to be said, and with the approval of her family, she had to think about how she would share a life with this man everyone seemed to like simply because he had made a change in her.
She cleared her throat. “What if he’s some kind of love ‘em and leave ‘em playboy who’s after me for the challenge? He does work in hedge funds and emerging markets. What if this is all a ruse to get his hands on GGU285? He does speak six languages –
what if he’s a corporate raider terrorist?”
Her mother rose to join her husband. “Well, one, he offered to quit his job and stay home with the kids. Two, he wouldn’t have asked to marry you if he was love ’em and leave ’em type. And three, he would be on the Homeland Security watch list. And finally, our grandchildren will be very well-rounded little geniuses.” Her mother blew her a kiss. “Good night, dear; see you in the morning.”
Guinevere sat in a moment of quiet contemplation. Cecily came and sat next to her sister. “Sissy,” she started, “love is not for the weak at heart.”
She looked at her sister with teary eyes. “He loves you, and you love him. The rest …” she squeezed her baby sister. “… Is part of the journey a man and woman take in the discovery of their lives together.”
The tears began to pour from Guinevere’s eyes as Cecily said, “I hate to say it, but Gawain is right.”
She was confused. Cecily explained, “For a relationship to really blossom, it requires fresh soil to grow.”
“If he moves into your world, then he has to adjust to your house and your rules.”
Guinevere frowned, still not fully understanding. “If you move into his world, then you feel like the interloper, separating him from his friends and manly habits.”
“Sissy, it is a win-win for you both to build your life somewhere fresh. Neither of you will have the upper hand in the relationship and you could build a symphony that you both have worked to compose.”
Guinevere was now starting to understand. If she stayed in Jersey, eventually she would wander back to the lab and her old habits. If she left her labs and allowed Cecily to continue the work, she could serve as an advisor and begin to work on something new.
She went to her purse and pulled out the phone number she had been holding for three months. Smiling, she wondered how good she would be as a vintner.
36
Courting Guinevere (The Davonshire Series Book 1) Page 19
