Rosalind
This story and all themes and ideas contained in said story are the sole
ownership of J.L. Scott. Any copyright infringements can be prosecuted in a
court of law.
To borrow a phrase: NYPD Blue no mine......no permission..no money, no sue, please?
John fiddled with the small piece in his pocket. He'd been carrying it around for days now. He couldn't seem to even work the courage up to take it out to look at it recently. What was he thinking?
"Hey! Hey!" John looked up across the desks set head to head. Andy had obviously been talking to him.
"Oh, what?" he asked. Had he been drifting so far off that he was missing things at work? Oh, that wouldn't do, that wouldn't do at all. He would just have to do something about it.
"Something on your mind, John?" Andy asked. John took a deep breath.
"Yeah." he answered, "Yeah, I guess there is"
"Wanna talk about it?" John fiddled with it some more. Without a word he took it out and held it out to Andy. Andy's eyebrows seemed to raise a bit and he nodded. John put it away.
"Well, you'll have to do something about it" Andy told him.
"No kidding" John replied. He intended to. This very night indeed. And so he found himself knocking a very intimidating door that night. The O'Malley's never seemed to use the front door. John had been over many more times after that initial night of Mrs. O'Malley's birthday. It seemed Grace had a great affection and attachment to her family. She usually dined there at least one night a week. They had taken Rosalind to meet the family, a little bit at a time so as not to frighten her. To their surprise, she was not at all frightened or intimidated by the large family. Indeed, she seemed to thrive in the large family. John suspected that she had grown used to it in Maria's house. Maria told him that her younger brother and sister, and their children and spouses, were constantly coming and going.
They had met the spouses and children of the four of Grace's brothers that were married, and the girlfriends of two of the others. (All of whom were Irish with names like McGillig, Kennedy and O'Connor) Mathew's wife was Mary, Mark's was Margaret. Mathew had two girls and one boy, who was about Ros's age. Mark's kids were close to their teens, three boys and a girl. Andrew and Patrick were the other two who were married. John took a quick second to figure out all of their ages. If Grace was twenty four...Patrick and Michael, 31, Andrew, 32, John, 34, Luke, 35, Mathew and Mark, 36, Paul, 38, and Peter, 49. None of them were extraordinarily old, but they all seemed to have rather young families. (Paul and Luke were the two attached but unmarried lads)
John swept all of this through his mind as the door nob turned and he faced Peter, the eldest and "head" of the family...someday anyway. He wore his "Priest outfit", the full black, relieved only by the white collar.
"John!" he exclaimed, and physically pulled him in.
"Mum! John's here!" he called.
"Which one, dear!" Mrs. O'Malley called from another room.
"The one that don't look like me twin!" Peter called, then looked passed him, out the door, "Where's Gracie, then?"
"She's not here" John told him. Peter gave him an odd look and closed the door. Mrs. O'Malley came bustling through the doorway with a big smile on.
"Hello, then, John!" she said happily, "Been expecting you for the past few days" John gave her a weird look. The woman often made strange comments like that, as if she knew what John had been considering for days. She had said something just a few weeks ago about how Grace disliked diamonds and preferred emeralds. It had been a private, pointed comment and John had taken it to heart.
"Ye'll be wantin to see Eric, then? Well, he's in the garage, go on Peter, take him out there" she shooed Peter and John out the door with her kitchen towel. They found Mr. O'Malley in the garage working on his car.well, rather, polishing it.
"John, heh there!" he greeted him happily enough, then stopped.
"Mum sent us out, Da" Peter told him. Mr. O'Malley put his cloth down.
"Ah, so ye've finally come, 'ave yeh?" he asked, not cheerily, but not unhappily either.
"Molly thought ye'd be 'ere earlier, she did" he continued, "Ah, well, I suppose I'll be letting ye say it yerself" He looked at him as if waiting for something and John realized they all knew what he'd come to ask.
"I'm going to ask Grace to marry me" John told them, all in one swift breath, so as not to lose nerve. Mr. O'Malley looked a little surprised, and looked at Peter. Peter shrugged.
"Well, if she says yes," he said slowly, "Then we won' kill yeh. But, if ye ever make her unhappy, the demons of Ireland will be on your door, John Clark" And he turned and left.
Two day's later.....
"Where are we going?" Grace asked for about the twentieth time.
"There's a step, here, hon" John told her, keeping a hand on her back and another on her arm as he led his blind folded date into an old brick building.
"John, where are we going?" she repeated, her voice telling him he didn't have much time. She liked surprises, yes, but she didn't like being in the dark.
"We're almost there," he told her, "Just trust me. There's a little incline" He led her down the isle, past the other seats.
"Are we in a movie theatre?" she asked suspiciously. He waited just a second for the lights to go down and the beginning credits to come up before he took the blindfold off.
"What..." The words "Roman Holiday" appeared on the screen and a little "oh" escaped her lips. He grew increasingly nervous as the movie progressed. They were the only two in the theatre. It was an old one he had been able to rent for the night. Grace was an eternal romantic, so a sit down dinner, in a nice restaurant, wouldn't do. This was what he could think of, and afford. He had thought about having them play "Sabrina", her favorite movie, but he somehow thought "Roman Holiday" would work better.
So it was that his hands were a little sweaty when the movie ended and the credits were rolling.
"Oh...I love that movie!" Grace breathed.
"I love you" John replied, brushing a thumb down her cheek. This was it. It was time. Could he push those words out of his mouth? What would his life with her be like? How would Ros take it? Would they have more children? What would they name them? How would her brother's take it? What would the wedding be like? How would they work out the finances? Would she make demands that he couldn't fulfill? Would he ask her for something she couldn't give? What would they argue over? What if he died, in the line, what would happen to her?
Then she smiled.
"Marry me, Grace" he whispered, "Please? Be my wife." She didn't answer. For a second he thought she'd say no, for a second he thought he'd been way out of line, for a second he thought the world had ended.
Then she smiled.
To borrow a phrase: NYPD Blue no mine......no permission..no money, no sue, please?
John fiddled with the small piece in his pocket. He'd been carrying it around for days now. He couldn't seem to even work the courage up to take it out to look at it recently. What was he thinking?
"Hey! Hey!" John looked up across the desks set head to head. Andy had obviously been talking to him.
"Oh, what?" he asked. Had he been drifting so far off that he was missing things at work? Oh, that wouldn't do, that wouldn't do at all. He would just have to do something about it.
"Something on your mind, John?" Andy asked. John took a deep breath.
"Yeah." he answered, "Yeah, I guess there is"
"Wanna talk about it?" John fiddled with it some more. Without a word he took it out and held it out to Andy. Andy's eyebrows seemed to raise a bit and he nodded. John put it away.
"Well, you'll have to do something about it" Andy told him.
"No kidding" John replied. He intended to. This very night indeed. And so he found himself knocking a very intimidating door that night. The O'Malley's never seemed to use the front door. John had been over many more times after that initial night of Mrs. O'Malley's birthday. It seemed Grace had a great affection and attachment to her family. She usually dined there at least one night a week. They had taken Rosalind to meet the family, a little bit at a time so as not to frighten her. To their surprise, she was not at all frightened or intimidated by the large family. Indeed, she seemed to thrive in the large family. John suspected that she had grown used to it in Maria's house. Maria told him that her younger brother and sister, and their children and spouses, were constantly coming and going.
They had met the spouses and children of the four of Grace's brothers that were married, and the girlfriends of two of the others. (All of whom were Irish with names like McGillig, Kennedy and O'Connor) Mathew's wife was Mary, Mark's was Margaret. Mathew had two girls and one boy, who was about Ros's age. Mark's kids were close to their teens, three boys and a girl. Andrew and Patrick were the other two who were married. John took a quick second to figure out all of their ages. If Grace was twenty four...Patrick and Michael, 31, Andrew, 32, John, 34, Luke, 35, Mathew and Mark, 36, Paul, 38, and Peter, 49. None of them were extraordinarily old, but they all seemed to have rather young families. (Paul and Luke were the two attached but unmarried lads)
John swept all of this through his mind as the door nob turned and he faced Peter, the eldest and "head" of the family...someday anyway. He wore his "Priest outfit", the full black, relieved only by the white collar.
"John!" he exclaimed, and physically pulled him in.
"Mum! John's here!" he called.
"Which one, dear!" Mrs. O'Malley called from another room.
"The one that don't look like me twin!" Peter called, then looked passed him, out the door, "Where's Gracie, then?"
"She's not here" John told him. Peter gave him an odd look and closed the door. Mrs. O'Malley came bustling through the doorway with a big smile on.
"Hello, then, John!" she said happily, "Been expecting you for the past few days" John gave her a weird look. The woman often made strange comments like that, as if she knew what John had been considering for days. She had said something just a few weeks ago about how Grace disliked diamonds and preferred emeralds. It had been a private, pointed comment and John had taken it to heart.
"Ye'll be wantin to see Eric, then? Well, he's in the garage, go on Peter, take him out there" she shooed Peter and John out the door with her kitchen towel. They found Mr. O'Malley in the garage working on his car.well, rather, polishing it.
"John, heh there!" he greeted him happily enough, then stopped.
"Mum sent us out, Da" Peter told him. Mr. O'Malley put his cloth down.
"Ah, so ye've finally come, 'ave yeh?" he asked, not cheerily, but not unhappily either.
"Molly thought ye'd be 'ere earlier, she did" he continued, "Ah, well, I suppose I'll be letting ye say it yerself" He looked at him as if waiting for something and John realized they all knew what he'd come to ask.
"I'm going to ask Grace to marry me" John told them, all in one swift breath, so as not to lose nerve. Mr. O'Malley looked a little surprised, and looked at Peter. Peter shrugged.
"Well, if she says yes," he said slowly, "Then we won' kill yeh. But, if ye ever make her unhappy, the demons of Ireland will be on your door, John Clark" And he turned and left.
Two day's later.....
"Where are we going?" Grace asked for about the twentieth time.
"There's a step, here, hon" John told her, keeping a hand on her back and another on her arm as he led his blind folded date into an old brick building.
"John, where are we going?" she repeated, her voice telling him he didn't have much time. She liked surprises, yes, but she didn't like being in the dark.
"We're almost there," he told her, "Just trust me. There's a little incline" He led her down the isle, past the other seats.
"Are we in a movie theatre?" she asked suspiciously. He waited just a second for the lights to go down and the beginning credits to come up before he took the blindfold off.
"What..." The words "Roman Holiday" appeared on the screen and a little "oh" escaped her lips. He grew increasingly nervous as the movie progressed. They were the only two in the theatre. It was an old one he had been able to rent for the night. Grace was an eternal romantic, so a sit down dinner, in a nice restaurant, wouldn't do. This was what he could think of, and afford. He had thought about having them play "Sabrina", her favorite movie, but he somehow thought "Roman Holiday" would work better.
So it was that his hands were a little sweaty when the movie ended and the credits were rolling.
"Oh...I love that movie!" Grace breathed.
"I love you" John replied, brushing a thumb down her cheek. This was it. It was time. Could he push those words out of his mouth? What would his life with her be like? How would Ros take it? Would they have more children? What would they name them? How would her brother's take it? What would the wedding be like? How would they work out the finances? Would she make demands that he couldn't fulfill? Would he ask her for something she couldn't give? What would they argue over? What if he died, in the line, what would happen to her?
Then she smiled.
"Marry me, Grace" he whispered, "Please? Be my wife." She didn't answer. For a second he thought she'd say no, for a second he thought he'd been way out of line, for a second he thought the world had ended.
Then she smiled.