Going Home - The Proposal

He changed the subject as we walked. 'Simon, Bailey, Perkins, and Thompson occupies this entire building. There's four floors and more than one hundred fifty attorneys. The partners are all located on the fourth floor. Your grandfather's old office overlooks the harbor. We can look at it later, if you like. It's still unoccupied.' He grinned. 'The senior partners are still fighting over it,' he whispered.

When we arrived at a conference room, he closed the door behind us. He offered a chair and took a seat. A secretary arrived and delivered a stack of files and left without a word.

'We'll start with your mother's estate,' he began. 'I'll meet with your father in a few days. He told Mr. Perkins to begin with you.'

I sat and listened for about forty minutes while he went over the details of the will. My mother had been well off and had left a substantial estate.

Thirty acres with a cabin on a lake in New Hampshire went to my father. She left almost two million dollars in stocks and bonds which had been converted to cash. My share was three hundred fifty thousand dollars after taxes. She left her jewelry to me, including her engagement and wedding rings. He handed me a small carved wooden box. I opened it and looked inside. I didn't remember my mother wearing jewelry very often. The balance of the estate went to my father. I briefly considered renouncing it, but that would have started another argument with my father.

'Any questions?' Joseph asked. I shook my head. He picked up an envelope and handed it to me. It contained a check.

'My grandfather's estate is next, I assume?' I asked.

'Yes. It will take some time to go over the details,' he told me. 'I understand you're in graduate school?'

'Yes.' I responded.

'Are you studying law?' he asked.

'Physics.'

He spent the next ninety minutes detailing the estate. I was the sole beneficiary, except for two bequests to the country house caretaker and his wife and my grandfather's personal assistant. A trust had been set up. A house in the Beacon Hill neighborhood and a country house were managed by a property management company, expenses paid by the trust. Part of the trust's earnings provided me with a monthly income. The balance was reinvested. Trust control passed to me at age thirty-five. In the meantime, a reputable financial services firm managed the financial assets. Several Simon, Bailey, Perkins, and Thompson senior partners acted as trustees. There was also the question of my grandfather's equity in the firm. His will excluded it from the trust.

Joseph handed me another check. When I looked at it, the room began to spin. My grandfather's equity in the firm came to over six million dollars. Another shock followed close behind when Joseph handed me a third check.

'And this is your first month's income from the trust,' he told me as he handed it over.

I tried to remain focused. I looked at the second check. Thirty-two thousand four hundred sixteen dollars twenty seven cents. I set it aside.

'Did you say the first month?' I asked.

'That's right. First month. The next check is a couple weeks out,' he told me. 'Until the estate cleared probate, all funds stayed with the estate and went into the trust.'

'Just how much money is in the trust?' I asked, fearing the answer.

Davis shuffled through some papers. 'The balance is currently a little under forty-three million dollars. It's growing at over sixty thousand dollars a month. Because of the way the trust is set up, your tax liability is negligible.'

Joseph reached under the table and retrieved a well-worn brown leather briefcase and handed it to me across the desk. 'This was your grandfather's briefcase. It has all the paperwork you need. The deeds for both properties, car titles and registrations have been transferred to your name. The keys to the cars are in the small pocket on the outside of satchel. A 1936 Cadillac LaSalle convertible is in our parking garage. A 1939 Cadillac Series 90 coupe is at the country house.

'Someone from our security department will escort you to the garage and accompany you to your next appointment.'

'My next appointment?' I asked.

'You have an appointment with the Williams-Davis Group, a private bank that provides services to high net worth clients. You're meeting with a Mr. Donald Jansen. And, no, I'm not related to anyone or in any way associated with them,' he told me.

I asked to use the phone. Joseph told me to just pick up the phone and give their in-house operator the phone number. She would connect me. He left the room to give me some privacy.

I called Ian and explained that my meeting with the lawyer was over and but I now had to go to a bank and that it might take a while. It was only a few minutes before 11:00 AM. I told them I hoped to be with them before 1:00 PM.

Joseph reentered the meeting room when I hung up. He was accompanied by two men large enough to tip over a bus.

'This is Mr. O'Hara and this is Mr. Picker. Mr. O'Hara will ride with you to the Williams-Davis Group's offices. Mr. Picker will follow behind. Mr. O'Hara will leave you in Mr. Jansen's care.

I was in a bit of awe of my new car. The Cadillac was a rich, dark red, spotless and gleaming. The convertible top was cream-colored. The interior leather and dashboard matched the exterior.

O'Hara gave directions as I drove. When we arrived at the Williams-Davis Group offices, O'Hara directed me to an underground parking garage. We took an elevator up to a tenth floor reception area. I introduced myself to the receptionist. I turned to thank O'Hara but he and the elevator were already gone.

A short, pale, reed-thin, man in his fifties appeared and introduced himself as Jansen. He was fastidiously dressed. His manner and jerky movements were bird-like. He spoke in short, rapid bursts. I followed him to his office and we both took a seat. He offered coffee or tea, which I declined.

With that he got down to business. He outlined the Davis Group's banking services. He told me of offices in Boston, New York, Chicago, Dallas, Phoenix, San Francisco, and Los Angeles which would allow access to banking services in those cities. He pointed out that most banks did not, and could not, offer the services available through his firm. We discussed several options for investment and access to funds. I settled on a mix of services that he recommended and that seemed suited to me. We completed the necessary paperwork and I left the checks with him. I asked for, and was given, two thousand dollars in one hundred dollar bills. Before I left, I was even provided with personalized checks that had been prepared in advance.

I made two additional requests before departing. The name of a good jeweler and directions to the address where Ian's workshop was located. He provided both and offered to notify the jeweler of my intention to visit. I thanked him and departed.

I drove to the address Ian had given me and went inside. I stood outside his workshop door and listened for a moment. Gwen and Ian were engaged in an energetic debate regarding one of Ian's current projects. They ended the discussion when I knocked and entered.

Gwen greeted me with a kiss and hug. 'It's about time,' Gwen said. 'I'm starving.'

I'd been too preoccupied to think about food to that point. But as soon as she said it, I realized I was hungry.

'Let's get some lunch,' Ian exclaimed. 'I know a good place not far away.'

When we got to the street, I saw that I was parked right in front of Ian's car but hadn't noticed. Ian admired the Cadillac as he walked past it.

'You like my car?' I asked.

Ian laughed until I tossed him the key.

'You're not joking,' he said, a look of surprise on his face.

'You drive it to lunch,' I told him. 'Gwen and I will follow in your car.'

When we had finished lunch, we swapped keys. Ian told us to enjoy the rest of the day and evening. He would see us at the house.

We got in my car and Gwen suggested a few things we could do with the rest of our day in Boston. I listened briefly and then interrupted her.

'We can do whatever you like with the rest of the day. But I have one more errand. It won't take long.'

I asked for directions to the address Mr. Jansen had provided. When we got there, I drove a little past the store and parked. I wanted to walk and talk with Gwen and time my proposal so that we were conveniently outside the store when I asked her to marry me. It was cold but there was no wind.

I opened the car door for Gwen and she wrapped her arm in mine and pulled herself close. Her cheeks quickly turned pink from the cold. I pointed us in the required direction and began to walk slowly.

'Gwen, I'd like to talk about something.' I began. 'It can wait a bit, but I'd like to do it now.'

She looked at me. I could see the curiosity in her eyes. 'Jonas, we can talk about anything, any time. You know that,' she told me.

'I've been thinking about making a change in my living quarters for a while now. Even though Parker is gone, the campus apartment doesn't suit me. I've been looking at my options and I think I've decided upon the perfect place to live.' I began. 'It would affect you, too, because it will change how far apart we are.'

Gwen let go of my arm and looked at me. There was fire in her eyes. Fortunately, there was no one on the street near us when she turned her wrath on me.

'Just what does that mean? Why are you moving away? Why did you come with me for Christmas? What am I going to do if I'm pregnant? You're still part of that equation, you know.' Tears welled in her eyes and ran down her cheeks.

'I'm not moving away from you, Gwen. I want to move closer to you. I bought the house, remember?' We were in front of the jewelry store but she didn't know it was our destination. 'Will you marry me? Now? Soon? Before we go back to Pasadena?'

Gwen's tears flowed unfettered. She was briefly speechless. Both conditions ended a moment later when she pushed away from me. 'Why are you asking now? I thought we wouldn't talk about it again until we knew I was pregnant?' she whispered. 'What's going on, Jonas?'

'I wasn't immediately agreeable because I've been planning this for a while.' I reached into my pocket and pulled out Mike's ring with the missing stone. 'Do you recognize this?' I asked.

She took it and looked at it. 'It's Mike's ring. The stone fell out. So?'

'I talked to Mike before we left.' I told her. 'I've been planning to ask you to marry me over the holidays. She gave me that ring because she said it fit you. I could use it to get the right size engagement ring.'

Gwen punched me in the arm. 'You told Mike? I'll kill her. She's supposed to be my friend. She never dropped a hint.' Gwen pulled herself close. After a moments' hesitation she asked, 'Are you sure you want to do this now?'

'Did you say, Yes?' I asked. 'Are you going to say yes?'

'Yes, yes, yes.' she answered as she leaned against me.

'Well, I guess where we are is fortuitous.' I told her.

Gwen lifted her head from my chest and looked around but the jewelry store didn't register. She looked at me, confused. I pointed to the window next to us, which displayed an assortment of necklaces, bracelets, and a few rings.

Gwen punched me in the arm again. 'You planned this, didn't you?' she punched my arm again as she said it.

'No. It just worked out this way. But this is where my errand was.'

Though the storefront display was small, the store was large and opulent. I introduced myself and told the sales clerk that greeted us that Mr. Jansen had called regarding my visit. The clerk excused himself and went to get the manager. Gwen and I wandered the store. Gwen stopped when she found a display case that held a large selection of engagement rings. She pointed to a modest ring that she liked.

When the manager joined us, he asked how he could help. I told him we were looking for an engagement ring. He congratulated us and asked what we had in mind. Gwen pointed at the ring she liked and asked if she could try it on. The manager remained passive as he bent to open the case. But a mirror in the case reflected the disdain on his face as he retrieved the ring.

The ring was far too large for Gwen's finger. I didn't care about the manager's disappointment but I was pleased that the modest ring didn't fit.

Gwen selected and tried a number of modest rings, all, too big.

I pointed to a ring with a much larger stone in another part of the case. 'Could we look at that one?' I asked.

This time, he was all smiles as he retrieved the ring.

Gwen objected. 'We can't afford that.'

'It's a very fine ring, Mr. Taylor. The stone is flawless. Almost five carats. Just a hint of blue. Emerald cut,' he said. He was suddenly more enthusiastic and descriptive.

'Do you like it, Gwen?' I asked. 'Try it on.'

Gwen slid it on her finger. Again, the ring was too large. 'It's beautiful. But it's too big, and it's too much.'

'Can it be reset today?' I asked the manager. 'We'll take it if you can reset it today.'

He took the ring. 'Please excuse me for a moment. My jeweler is almost done for the day. I'll catch him before he leaves.' He hustled off without another word. He was almost running.

Gwen looked at me and whispered. 'Jonas, what are you doing? I know you have some money but don't blow it on a ring. You've already bought a house. Save the rest for something important. We'll need it if there's a baby'.

The manager returned before I could respond. 'He'll reset the stone.' He held up a large ring of sizing rings. Gwen held out her hand but stared at me while he tried several sizes until he found the right one. Then he hustled off, again almost running.

'Jonas, aren't you even curious about how much it costs?' Gwen asked.

'I don't care, Gwen. Whatever it costs, I want you to have it. I think it will look great on your hand.' I told her.

'But, Jonas . . '

'It's OK, Gwen. Some things happened today that you're not aware of. We'll talk about it over dinner.'

The manager returned and asked us to follow him. He led us to a comfortable sitting room. Coffee and tea were offered and accepted. When he returned with our drinks, he broached the subject of payment by handing me a handwritten sales receipt.

I looked at it and nodded. 'Will you take a personal check?' I asked.

'Normally, not from an unknown customer,' he said. 'But Mr. Jansen vouched for you, so we'll make an exception to our policy.'

A few minutes later the ring was delivered. Gwen tried it on, her face beaming. I paid the bill, pocketed the receipt and we left. The manager followed us to the door, unlocked it and then locked it behind us.

Once we were on the sidewalk, Gwen took my arm again and pulled herself close.

As we walked to the car, she asked 'When?'

'As soon as we can.' I answered. 'Do you want a big wedding?'

'There's a lot of planning that goes into a wedding, even a small one,' she told me. 'It takes time.'

'Think we can manage to get married before we leave for school?' I asked.

Gwen nodded her head. 'It won't be a big fancy wedding and reception. If we keep it simple, we can manage.'

We walked about Boston and talked for over an hour but really didn't do any tourist things.

We had dinner at a nearby diner. The menu contained all the dishes one might expect to make at home, nothing fancy. The meals we settled on were well done and generous. Gwen mostly played with her food. She didn't eat much, which was a change from recent meals.

Over dinner we talked quietly. I related the events from the meeting with the attorney but avoided discussing specifics about how much money was involved. I assured her we'd never have anything to worry about, financially. Gwen wasn't in the least bit curious about my money.

All through dinner, Gwen seemed restless. When we returned to the car, I checked the deed to the Boston property to get the address. The keys to the house were in the envelope containing the deed. Gwen knew the way to Beacon Hill. We made our way down a one-way, cobblestone street with brick sidewalks to the address on the deed. Cars were parked along one side of the street. I found a spot and parked. I unlocked the front door and led the way in, Gwen right behind me. I turned on the lights and relocked the door behind me.

'This is your grandfather's house?' Gwen asked.

'It was. It's mine now. He left it to me.' I told her.

I didn't remember ever being at my grandfather's house so we explored it together. The house was old, probably from the late eighteenth century or very early nineteenth. It was simply, but tastefully decorated in the early American-style. The furniture on the first floor was all fine antiques contemporary to the time the house was built. A mahogany-paneled library held several thousand leather-bound volumes, a large desk, a fireplace, several over-stuffed leather chairs, and small tables with reading lamps. The first-floor bathroom was modern, as was the large kitchen which had a dumbwaiter, relatively new refrigerator, a huge cast iron and enamel stove, a walk-in pantry, and a small cooking hearth complete with the original hangers and cast iron pots. There was a large bedroom suite off the kitchen.

The second-floor bedrooms were also furnished with antiques. The third floor was a large sparsely furnished ballroom. There was a fully-stocked bar at one end. The dumbwaiter behind the bar originated in the kitchen. Several folding tables and a number of folding chairs leaned against a wall. Several large crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling. Like on the lower floors, heat was provided by cast iron radiators.

After exploring the house, we made our way back to the second floor and the master bedroom. The house was cool, but not cold. Gwen and I held each other as we kissed. We still wore our winter coats but they offered no barrier to our desire. Hands wandered and explored with a level of excitement and enthusiasm equaling our first time together. I helped Gwen out of her winter coat and dropped it to the floor. Mine joined hers a moment later.

We fell onto the bed, still wearing our clothing. Gwen had worn slacks that day. As we lay side-by-side, I pushed a knee between her legs. She pushed forward until my leg was against her sex. Her hands held my cheeks as we kissed, our tongues dancing together to the beat of our racing hearts. Something about knowing Gwen had accepted my proposal excited me. I thrilled at her slightest touch.

I slid a hand down her back and squeezed a cheek, pulling her to me. I slid down the bed and moved the hand down her ass and between her legs. My face was buried in the shirt covering the valley between her pert breasts. Gwen humped against my hand as it rubbed the warm fabric between her legs. I could feel her hot breath on top of my head as her breaths came deeper and heavier.

Gwen's hands moved between us and pulled my shirt from my trousers. She loosened my belt and reached a hand inside, sliding it under the waist of my boxers. When she found the top of my erection, she slid her hand along my length, cupping my testicles when she reached them. I heard a soft moan. It took a moment to realize it was mine. We held each other tightly, not wanting to let go, wanting only to raise the heat further.

I moved my good hand to Gwen's chest and began unbuttoning her blouse. Gwen unbuttoned my trousers and slid the zipper down. She reached in with both hands, grasping my shaft and cupping my balls. When I finished unbuttoning her blouse, I pushed her bra up, off her breasts, and arched my back. I found a nipple and sucked it between my lips, gently holding it between my teeth and circling the hard nub with my wet tongue. Gwen responded by squeezing my shaft and pulling up on it, while inhaling sharply.