CHAPTER 17 BRYN MAWR MAN
The next morning, Grace was up early. She was dressed and waiting in her building foyer with the doorman on duty when Oliver pulled up in his limo. She
wore a light green, summer dress, a hat and sunglasses. She had with her a straw handbag. She lit up when she saw him. She looked entirely glamorous
Oliver thought. He got out of the car to let her in, his direction to the Asp was that he would always get her door, "please, leave Grace to me...". He kissed her
hand and then her as she slipped into the limo. He got in after her, sliding next to her on the seat. He told the Asp to wait at the curb until he said they were
ready. He looked over at her, taking in her whole being. "My God she looks so beautiful." He thought to himself.
Oliver looked at her, she smiled at him. Oliver said: "Good morning, my love. You look luscious. Green is so pretty on you." Grace smiled at him. She said:
"Good morning, MY love. You." She stopped to kiss him. "Look." Another kiss. "Luscious." another kiss. She giggled a little as she pulled back, he smiled
broadly at her. She smiled back, she touched his bowtie, his collar. She said: "You look so nice. Ooooh….look, we match!" He was wearing a Navy blue suit
with a green tie. They had matched without trying. He kissed her once more, and smiling to her, he said with his head next to hers, into her ear softly, "Do
not get any ideas, Miss Farrell. This tie is mine – at least for today." He kissed her hands, and he found himself taking a deep breath. She said: "Are you
okay?" He smiled at her and kissed her hands again. He said: "I'm fine. I just have to summon up the courage to tell you about today.." He realized how silly
and auspicious that sounded. He was a bit on edge. Taking another breath, he did his best to organize his thoughts to her. Softly he spoke to her: "Grace, I
want to tell you about…today. I want to make sure you are on board, so to speak…..I'm afraid that I tried to – well, I attempted to…surprise you." He looked a
bit more serious than just moments before. She said: "Oh….you did? Oliver…what do you mean? ..what about today?" She watched his face, he kept both of
her hands in his. He continued: "Grace, I bought a couple of train tickets..for us.." He looked at her, his eyebrows arched almost in question, he was feeling a
little less than confident. She asked him quietly: "Where are the tickets going to take us?" He looked into her eyes and said: "Philadelphia. 30th Street
Station." She raised her brows in surprise, smiling as she asked him: "Why?…why are we going there, Oliver?" She could easily guess exactly why, and she
knew that he mother had something to do with this…she was going to tell her mother that she was the greatest actress of all time; she had literally just
spoken to her not ten minutes earlier. Grace was quietly amused at her mother's game of chess. She grinned at Oliver.
Oliver looked at her and said: "Okay, I have be honest with you. I reached out to your parents." He paused, then said: "…to meet them. . . . .I wanted to
meet them and I wanted to meet your brother. So, I hatched a plan with your mother. We have spoken on the phone you know." Grace laughed at this openly,
clearly amused at the idea of her mother and Oliver conspiring together. "You've spoken to my mother on the phone?...what did you and Elizabeth…" Oliver
cut in: "Liz." Grace laughed more at this and said: "Oh, well then,(laughing), I did not know… excuse me...(laughing) ….what did you and 'Liz' talk about?" He
looked at her with a slightly smug grin and said: "Nothing. Your mother wants us at her house for brunch is all.. . . in fact, your brother John is picking us up
from the train station." He was trying very hard to appear casual. Grace was still smiling at him as he asked her: "….are you okay with this?" Grace was
slightly surprised at his confession, not upset, but confused about the secrecy. She laughed lightly and said: "Oliver, of course I am okay with all of this, but
why did you keep it a secret?" She was still puzzled and genuinely asking. He stared at her, he blushed a little as he told her, quietly: "Well, it might seem that
. . . .such a request from a man. . . . whom your daughter is dating might be construed as quite serious.. . . .and that it might foreshadow. .
.other….considerations. If I had brought it up to you…I wasn't sure how to do this.." He kept his eyes locked with hers, she simply returned his gaze and softly
said: "Oh…I see." They were both being discreet and they both knew what he meant. He meant – could he possibly mean..? Her mind wandered. That meant
that if Oliver saw his reaching out to them as serious, then so did her mother. "Oh my God, my mother is going to pounce on me the moment I walk through
the door…." Grace thought to herself. He smiled at her, and continued: "and, well, before I knew it, Liz had set a date and time and I just never decided
whether to try to surprise you – I realized just how dumb that would be, taking you on a train ride….oh God..the train…!" He picked up the car intercom
device and told the Asp to head to Grand Central Station. Their car pulled into traffic and started toward the train. He continued to Grace: "I realized that if I
were to attempt a surprise for you, by taking you on a train ride that you have done many times, well, it was a dumb idea. I wanted to have the train ride
with you…you've taken it so many times…I wanted to see it from your perspective… I just wanted to meet your family, I wanted to meet your parents.
Because I love their only daughter." He stared at her. She stared back at him, feeling a little guilty about not having arranged a meeting prior to that
Saturday. She said: "That is so very sweet, Oliver…I should have perhaps figured out a way to introduce you to them before today. " He looked at her and
smiled, shaking his head, he said: "Grace, you've enough on your plate – you have had nothing but running back and forth. I know how busy you've been. I
have wanted to meet them for a while. I just never knew when the right time was, one day leads to another, the weekends….." He looked at her and took her
hands and said: "…are filled with. . .us. …I don't know why I asked. . . Liz…." He stopped to smile at her. "to keep it a secret….I guess I wanted some element
of surprise…but..I messed it up. . . ...badly.. . .I think…" She watched his expression and how crushed he looked, she squeezed his hands back and said to
him, speaking lovingly: "Oliver, you haven't messed up anything. We are on our way to a luncheon at my mother's house and I think it is very sweet that you
wanted this. I am very touched by how you tried to make it a surprise, love, but it's not ruined. I cannot wait to have you meet them. My mother is in her
glory and let me tell you, you have made her year…" Grace was laughing. He pulled her hand up to his lips and kissed it, turning it over and kissing her palm.
Grace watched him as he did this, and finally said seriously: "That is how this all started." He looked up to her and asked: "What do you mean?" He knew
exactly what she meant. She looked at him and said: "By you kissing my hand…well, actually, you did this, first…" and she took his finger and placed it on the
pulse point of her wrist. He watched her trace a line up his hand, then his wrist before he pulled her hand up to his lips. She continued: "And then, you did
that…" as she watched him kiss her hand. He asked her as he kept her hand close to his lips, his eyes closed: "What else did we talk about?" She leaned
entirely into him, very close to his face, she simply said: "This." And kissed him, her lips slightly parted, his bottom lip she teased as she pulled back. He
pulled her in for more, telling her: "Grace, you are miracle in my life. I only pray that I have what you need…I want to be worthy…" She hugged him, he clung
to her, burying his face in her hair, her hat long gone and on the seat next to them. Grace, touched by his words, said to him: "Where has all of this come
from? You are everything I need and if you would like to talk about miracles, ask this woman in your arms about the miracle of having you love me back after
falling in love with you….you are my miracle, Oliver. It goes both ways." She covered his face and then his lips with her kisses. She said to him: "I hope you
understand just how worthy you are." She had some inkling that his self-doubt was from the anxiety of the situation. As they got closer to the train station,
they straightened themselves up, Oliver had their tickets. She checked her lipstick. She took out her own handkerchief and removed her lip color from his
cheek. As the car pulled up to the curb at Grand Central Station, Oliver checked his watch. They had time to spare. He opened the door and gave Grace his
hand, helping her step out. He kept her hand in his as he leaned over to the Asp and said: "Thank you, Eddie, please be here tonight for the 9 PM train from
Philadelphia. We will be on it. See you then." The Asp tipped his hat to Oliver and said: "Yes, Sir. I will be here." Oh, Eddie would be there…with chilled
champagne and a car full of red roses from Oliver. Oliver had already ordered them and they were currently in the estate kitchen's walk-in refrigerator. There
were at least one hundred red roses. Mrs. Greer and Mrs. Pugh and Drake fussing over them and "What could possibly be going on? Has he gone mad?
Edward, what is going on?" Mrs. Greer would ask. The Asp and Punjab kept entirely in character of knowing nothing. The Asp only said he would come back
later to get them for the car.
Oliver and Grace walked down the staircase to the train they were boarding. There were lookers and stares, but no hecklers. Grace could almost swear that
she saw a camera flash but she wasn't sure. Looking around the busy station, she saw nothing out of place.
Oliver held her hand the entire time. She loved holding his hand, but she also liked putting her arm through his because she could feel his waist, his warmth,
she could press into him a little – it was tactile and intimate. It was more personal than holding hands, although she loved to hold his hand, too. She loved
when he would offer his hand to her, whether getting out of a car, or crossing a street, getting to a table at a restaurant, any and all opportunities to take his
hand, she took with great love and joy. Whenever they were out, wherever they were, they were physically attached.
They found their car, found their seats and settled in for the 2 +/- hour ride to Philadelphia. They ordered a couple of coffees and some pastry from the café
car. Grace thought that Oliver had seemed jittery in the café car, and now, back in their seats, he seemed better. She sipped her coffee and inhaled her pastry.
He loved that she was a girl who never missed a meal. Her gusto was immeasurable. After a short while, their train was nicely into the journey south. They
watched as New York City faded into the background. He watched the scenery with her, both of them silent. She continued to watch the scenery outside their
window, and asked him quietly: "Oliver….are you nervous?" He turned to her, a half-smile on his face and a lump in his throat. He was very nervous. He said:
"Grace, would it be considered abnormal if a man in my circumstance wasn't nervous?" She looked at him, puzzled, and said: "I would say that would be fairly
abnormal. Why? Are you not nervous, then?" she cocked her head at him, knowing he was too sensitive to not be a wreck. He answered her: "On the
contrary, I am quite nervous, I am afraid I am very normal. I don't know how someone wouldn't be nervous." He was revealing too much, though, because
what was really driving his anxiety was that he knew that his plan had to work exactly, and despite weeks of planning, he had no idea exactly how it would
happen, he only knew that he had an end result in mind. He would make it happen come hell or high water.
Grace said: "Oliver, please know they are going to love you. They are all nice. I promise you, you have no reason to be nervous." She made eye contact with
him before continuing: "…..and now that my mother has you calling her 'Liz', I would say you are a complete insider in my mother's world…" Grace laughed as
she said: "She doesn't even let my father call her 'Liz'…." Oliver laughed at this also, knowing Grace was exaggerating to put him at ease. "Just wait until she
insists upon meeting you for lunch in town…." He said: "I hope she does invite me to lunch, I will gladly meet your mother for lunch. We will talk about you
the entire time. I shall finally know all the little things that make you tick, my dear…" Grace laughed. She asked: "So, I'm not invited?" He laughed at her,
teasingly, and said: "Well, we shall see exactly whom Liz has on her guest list…I guess we would have to wait and see…." She laughed again, kissed him. He
took a deep breath again, trying to exhale the tension he felt – and not for the reasons she thought. She said, as she squeezed herself closer to him on their
seat: "I will be right there with you, too, okay? I will be right by your side." And she kissed his cheek. He beamed back at her and said: "You are quite
remarkable, do you know that?" She looked at him and grinned and said: "Yes, I know." Smiling at this, he kissed the top of her head as she settled in next to
him. After a short while, he said quietly: "Grace….." He paused. "Are you nervous?" She roused from her place to look up. She said: "Am I nervous? What
about? You mean having you meet my family?" He said "Mmmm hmm. Are you?" She thought about it for a moment, and said: "I guess I am only nervous in
the sense that I want it to go right, I want you to like them, I want you to be comfortable, I want my parents to love you, I want Johnny and Claire to love
you…so, nervous? No, not at all." She teased him. "Honestly, Oliver, the only person whose opinion should count is mine. I love you. That is all that matters
and that should be good enough for anyone."
"I love you, too. Very much, but: Hmmmmmff." Oliver said.
Grace looked at him and said: "What? What 'hmmmff'?"
Oliver looked at her and said: "Good enough for anyone - but your father isn't just anyone. Your mother isn't just anyone. John. Claire. These are your people,
Grace. It matters whether they like me or not. I am nervous about them seeing me for who I am and not for my stupid money, or the fame that comes with
it. I want to make a good impression on them just by being Oliver Havens. Not the Warbucks jerk." She could not believe what she had heard him say about
himself. She turned her entire body to face him. She said: "Now, see here: 'The Warbucks jerk' is a part of the man I love, so I'll hear none of that. Oliver,
just be you. Be who you are with no expectations. The Oliver I saw at the gala was pure you. You were natural, you were sure of yourself. You were charming
and lovely and just you." She looked at him, he was listening as she spoke:
"You stood up for me and you meant it. You were jumping in, and I have never thought it was ego-driven." She paused to collect her thoughts. "That is the
man you are, Oliver. A sweet, kind, intelligent, lovable man. You are so good, Oliver. You are true in the classical sense of the word." One of the reasons she
started to have feelings for him in the first place was because of all of those qualities: she really viewed him exactly like this. She not only loved him, she
admired him. Grace gave him a moment to breathe, gently showing by example. He smiled at her, kissed the back of her hands and replied: "I have no
adequate way to tell you how you lift me up, Grace. When you talk about me like that, I think you are talking about someone else…but you aren't. I am
always so surprised at how you see me. I have never thought of myself as any of those things. But, if you see me like that, then I can only reckon that what
you see and feel is a mirror of what I see and feel in you. I see so many facets of you, Grace. I get lost in thoughts about you – and not just physical thoughts
– although, I do get lost in those musings – but, I get lost in thoughts of YOU. I feel that you are the one human being I can trust… with my thoughts.…my
life….my heart. I will try to just be myself and not be nervous. I will hold onto you and I will pretend that I am that man at the gala who is not yet hopelessly
in love with Grace Ellen Farrell. . . . ." He looked at her and smiled. Her eyes glistened with tears she blinked back as she stayed quiet – she wanted him to
keep talking. He saw that she was fighting tears, he touched her face, and gently pulled him toward him. "Oh, love… come here…" he said. She settled back
into the seat with him, leaning her head on his shoulder.
"Grace, sometimes, I find myself stunned in the moment? What I mean is, in thinking about this love with you, I sometimes find myself stopping in my tracks
to let reality wash over me that this is real. I have never had anything with another human being that I have with you. I get lost and a little off-balance when
I think about all the fine factors and tiny events that had to happen to have our paths ever cross. Grace, I have been all over the world – I am not bragging –
but, that night I should have been very far away from New York on a second itinerary, and yet, my schedule suddenly changed, travel halted, and I got a
hasty invite from William Gayle to that GOP gala. …I had no intention of going to that…but, Bill is an old connection and I thought I could go even if just for a
short while….Bill had casually said: 'Oliver, this is John's lovely' – "had he said lovely or charming?" –'daughter, Grace.' Little did I know that I would be
meeting for the very first time: YOU. The love of my life. Right there. You looked so beautiful. I thought to myself: "Oh, forget it. She is too pretty and she is
too young and she is probably taken by some young man and you are a salty, old man." He chuckled at this as he looked at her. She took several breaths,
trying to stop herself from crying. After a few moments of quiet between them, she collected herself to speak. She said to him: "You are certainly NOT a salty
or old man, and that was certainly not my first impression of you." He looked at her and asked: "What was your first impression?" Grace gave a small laugh.
She looked down at their hands….she said: "I thought that you smelled really good. Really good…I thought that you were handsome. I thought that you were
very nicely put together…I thought you were a confident, strapping man with manners and brains…." she paused before telling him: "I thought you were
gorgeous. . . ..and, I still do.." She stopped to let these words sit with him. He gently touched her face as she revealed this to him. He kissed her hands
repeatedly as she spoke. "The way you stood up for me to Andrew was the sexiest thing I had ever seen, Oliver." That was the first time she had ever told
him that. He leaned over to her and kissed her, holding onto her hands in his. He said to her quietly: "I cannot believe you felt that way. My goodness, Grace.
I am very touched.. . .and grateful.." He continued, smiling at her: "As for Andrew, I really wanted to throw him out of the building, but…I digress." He
stopped for a moment, thinking of the most tactful way way to ask her about their age difference. This was a topic that scared him a little. He was very well
aware of his being almost thirteen years older than her. She was so vibrant and filled with energy – well, when she was on duty, he smiled to himself. Finally,
he asked her in a very soft tone: "Grace…can we talk about something?" She smiled at him and said: "Of course..what do you want to talk about?" He looked
at her with a furrowed brow and said: "Do you ever worry about our age difference?" he looked at her. She looked at him with pure love. He smiled at her and
kissed her again…he said: "I think sometimes that I am too old." She looked at him and asked: "Too old?" He nodded to her in the affirmative. "Too old for
what, Oliver?" He looked at her, a nervous laugh escaped him as he said: "Well…" he stopped, he was suddenly struck speechless. He blushed. She saw it and
squeezed his arm and held his hand. She kept quiet, giving him room and time to think and speak. He looked at her, almost tearfully and said: "For you. For
keeping you happy. For the future….I want to be here for you and I want you to be happy, to be attracted to me, I want to be…around…and able-bodied…. and
good for you." He stopped there. She looked at him, she saw how he really looked a bit scared and very concerned. His anxiety was definitely showing on his
face. She squeezed his arm again. Very softly she asked him: "Oliver….can you tell me your biggest worry? About our ages?" He looked straight ahead. He
spoke slowly: "Grace, my biggest worry is being there for you. I am concerned only because I want every good thing for you. I want to be able to be the kind
of man you want. For a long, long time. I just want a future. I never really thought about anything beyond next week until I fell in love with you….until I
kissed you. Suddenly, I realized how precious and fleeting life is, how incredible love is. I never knew. Until you, Grace. My biggest fear is becoming a burden
to my much-younger…." He stopped suddenly. He had almost blurted out "wife". He turned and looked at her. He said: "My love." She looked at him, holding
his gaze. She smiled and said: " Oliver. You are every good thing for me. She said: "You are twelve and a half years older than me. We exist within the same
generation. We have a lot of the same points of reference – in history, in social issues, our own beliefs are closely aligned. The fact of this particular matter is
very simple: the heart wants what it wants. My heart wants you. Your heart wants me. It is done. It would be different if you were twenty-six and I were
thirteen. But we are not those children. I am over thirty. You are over forty. That is how I see us, and that is how I think of us….you will never be a 'burden' to
me…good Lord….and, if you are worried about keeping up with me, I want to confess something. I worry about keeping up with you. I am a creature of habit,
I love my sleep, I love my quiet, I love curling up with a good book. I fear sometimes that I am too boring for you – you who have traveled all over the world,
you have seen so many things. I am grateful for you being older than me, in that you've had those experiences. Oliver, I want to be enough for you, too." He
looked at her, surprised to hear her tell of her own insecurities. He said: "Grace, I have never, ever thought of you as boring. You are one of the most
powerfully magnetic human beings I have ever met. You are so exciting. You have me buzzing and humming just by walking into a room. Did you know that?
You are vivacious and beautiful and full of surprises, full of dry wit, one of the smartest human beings I have ever known…" He gently kissed her neck. She
smiled at him over this. He spoke softly to her: "You can be my sleepy girl and curl up in my arms with a book. I want that. I want your feet on my lap. I want
YOU on my lap. I want to build you a fire on a rainy afternoon. I want to share books. I want to stop the crazy frantic pace of traveling, of chasing it, of….not
being there for you." He squeezed her hand before he kissed it. "Grace, I want us to have time together." She was quiet as she took in his words. Finally she
turned to him and said: "We will have all of that, Oliver. I am accepting nothing less." She was quite serious. He knew she was declaring herself in her usual
fashion: assertive but calm. She was a class act and Oliver knew this about her. He knew she was a finishing school debutante, a wealthy girl brought up to
marry well and have babies. Somewhere along the way, Grace was shown that she could make her own path. So, instead of being like everyone she knew:
shopping for a rich man to sire heirs with, Grace was different. She wanted to pursue her passion in math, she was a standout in business, she was an artist,
she was a dancer, she was well-read, well-spoken, did not smoke, rarely drank, was an accomplished musician, had been a professor of statistics, always had
her nose in a book, and she was in love with Oliver, not some Main Line boy with soft hands and a trust fund expecting her to put up with their crap. There
was not enough money in the world to ever make Grace marry someone she didn't love. Grace was everything her parents did not expect. Her parents had no
choice but to watch Grace excel at so many things, but her talent for mathematics was something you could not get in the way of. Grace was talented, and
gifted and poured herself into her intellectual curiosity. Oliver often thought about how she 'swam upstream' too, and that in an odd way, that made her a bit
of an eccentric as well. He knew that she was wildly unconventional and not your average human. She was a feminine woman with a head for fashion, very
nice-looking, slender but curvy, and very modest and unassuming. Oliver loved her brunette hair and blue eyes. He loved her smile, her dimples, her laugh.
He loved to watch her walk out of a room. Hated that she was leaving, but he loved to watch that. There were times he had glazed over or dropped a pencil
as he got lost in the muse. She was assertive in the correct times in the correct situations, but her demeanor as a whole was to be calm, polite, and friendly.
She also reserved a dry sense of humor that cut like a knife. Oliver found her to be very funny – most people had no idea she was funny, but she revealed
that side to Oliver. She was very well-spoken, and she kept up with her French regularly. She started speaking French in Junior high school, and the she took
it all four years in high school, traveled to France and studied French further in college. She and Oliver had shared their individual stories about being in Paris
in the early 1920s. She was very studious, and she had a head for memory, numbers, dates and names. To name a few things. Grace was a highly intelligent,
sensitive and gentle woman with the soul of an artist, and the head-over-heels love and attraction for Oliver was so powerful that even she had no control.
She knew he was 'the one' – the love she had never had before and would never find again. She also knew now that if she ever had left the estate, like she
had planned to do if things had not gone so well between them, she knew that she would never have been 'over' Oliver. She was not letting him off about
age. She could give a fig about their age difference. She was going to knock down that particular wall, along with any others that might come their way. She
was blunt. She said to him: "Oliver, what would we have done if our age difference was a problem? And, for whom would it be a problem? Would we break
things off for some kind of fear about…what? What would that fear be?" She looked at him, her face portraying genuine curiosity. He looked at her with his
own brow wrinkled in thought. He said: "I have to think about how to answer all of that. What would we do if and for whom would the age difference be an
issue? That is the first, right? So, I would say that since I am the one bringing it up, I am the one viewing it as a problem. So, obviously, the problem lies with
me? I think?" He smiled at her now, continuing: "As far as what we would do? I could never live without you, so, our age difference is a moot point." She was
smiling at him, his answer aligned with her thinking. He saw that sunshine and suddenly he realized that their age difference was not a negative, it was a
feature of their being a couple, not a bug. He said to her: "When I think it over rationally, it seems that I am the only one with a problem about our age
difference. I would never break it off with you for any reason. I cannot even fathom a life without you."
She looked at him, lovingly: "And what about the next part?" she asked him. He looked at her and said: "The next part? . . what is that?" She said: "Oliver,
would we ever break things off because of fear, and what exactly would that fear be?" He looked at her, searching every centimeter of her face, and said:
"First of all, again, I would never break things off with you – over anything – so, no, we would not break things off over fear. And that fear – again – lives in
me, Grace. It is a fear of being too old – not necessarily now, but in the future. In a few years. I want to . . .be. . . everything a man should be." He paused
to look her in the eyes. "I have always been able to push through fear because I had some control – real or imagined…this fear is…something I am struggling
with….to be perfectly honest, dear." Grace said softly: "Oliver, we are both exactly where we should be and when we should be. I like to live in the here and
now. Here and now, I can tell you that you are most certainly not 'too old' for me. You have the same appeal, the same looks, the same magnetism." She
stopped suddenly, hesitating and correcting herself: "In fact, no, I take that back. You are in fact, not the same. You are more attractive and magnetic, and
Oliver, I do not know what it will take to make you believe you are up for it, but I would invite you to let me help you through any hurdles. Age is nothing,
Oliver, and if you are a afraid of not being 'everything a man can be' with me, let me tell you that you are more than capable of being everything I want in a
man." When she was done speaking, she turned his head to her with her hands gently on his cheeks and she kissed him, very passionately, very deliberately,
very slowly. When she was done kissing him, she pulled her face back to look into his eyes, and she whispered to him: "I am hopelessly in love with you.
Please be kind to the man I adore." He hugged her tightly, saying to her softly: "Grace, I will. I will do my best. I am hopelessly in love with you, too."
It seemed like they blinked their eyes and their train was pulling into 30th street station in Philadelphia. They got up to the main concourse and Grace showed
him just how beautiful the new train station was, the incredible columns and the way the entire building lit up from all of the windows. It was an architectural
wonder, and Oliver appreciated its beauty as much as Grace. They had no bags. Oliver insisted upon buying a flower arrangement from a florist in the station,
and a single red rose. He asked Grace: "Does your father like a good cigar now and then? A brandy?" Grace thought about it. She said: "I think he would
appreciate a cigar. Especially from you. My mother would have to let him smoke it. She never usually does." Grace laughed about this. Needless to say, Oliver
brought several expensive cigars, and a fine cognac, and some Asher's chocolates for her brother's fiancé. For Johnny, he expected that he would share a
cognac, hopefully, or "just get to know him over dinner or coffee." Oliver told her. Oliver's nerves were slightly better than before. Grace said: "What time is
Johnny supposed to pick us up?" Oliver looked at his pocket watch. "He should be here now….he said he would be in the back? Which way is the back?" Grace
pointed to the western-most exits of the gigantic building. Her brother would be where she was always picked up: in the back round-about, exiting onto
Market street. She took his hand, and once they were out of the main concourse and about to exit, she pulled him aside to talk to him. She said: "Oliver, I
just want you to know that I love you. And, I want to kiss you. Before we see Johnny. Or Mom. Or Dad. Just kiss me." He did. His face had an expression of
slightly puzzled smiling. "Grace." She smiled and said: "Yes?" Oliver looked at her, their packages around their feet. He continued: "I love you. Please, tell me
everything is going to be okay." Inside his mind, he meant this for an entirely different reason. He asked it very earnestly because he meant it. For them
both. His entire future was resting in the balance of the next several hours. He told the butterflies in his stomach to sling their hooks. She looked at him,
standing directly in front of him. She reached up with both of her hands, put them on his cheeks and kissed him again. She said: "Everything is going to more
than fine, it is going to be a simply lovely day."