CHAPTER 14 RIGHT AS RAIN

They looked at each other in pleasant surprise, he broke in: "Grace, really? You feel the same way?" She clapped her hands together and said: "Yes, Oliver,

yes…oh my God …. yes, I feel the same way!" And she threw her arms around his neck and hugged him. They were both relieved and surprised. He said to

her: "How long have you felt like this?" She spoke softly into his ear, hugging him: "I've felt like this for a while...since about the middle of the summer

session." She stopped to look at his face as he watched her speak. She continued: "It was so much work. I felt like I was not doing my best work at the

estate…." She paused for a moment. He squeezed her a little tighter. She continued: "Oliver, I cannot do both anymore. I want to come back to you at the

estate full time again."

He said: "I know, love. I have started to realize myself that this had been hard on you. I was stupid to ask such a thing." She was still hugging him, her head

on his shoulder. He was still holding her tightly. She said: "You didn't ask me. We talked about it, but, we just didn't know how much work this would be. This

is not any fault of yours." She kissed his cheek, then his neck as she held him. He asked her softly: "Did you enjoy the university? Did you enjoy teaching?...I

thought you glowed. You've never seemed happier." She pulled her head up to look at his face, she smiled at him, touching his chin gently with her free hand.

She spoke directly to him, locking her gaze with his: "I glow because of you, Oliver. I have never been happier because of you. You saw me when I saw YOU.

That is the glow you saw." She kissed his lips, and when she was finished she said to him: "I miss you so much. All the time." He kissed her back, the rain

was coming down harder now, he said: "Grace, I didn't think it possible to pine for you more than I already had – like I did before we, confessed our love, but

I do. I pine for you, I miss you every moment you are out of my presence. I have said this before, and I mean it: I am no good without you." She watched

him say these words, watching his expression, and she listened. She heard him as he heard her. She said "Well, Oliver….you are not 'without' me. I am yours

and nobody else's…on this entire planet. You are mine…at least, I think of you as mine." She looked at him as she said this. He touched her face gently, and

said; "Oh, I am yours…make no mistake, love, I want you and only you. I am yours." He paused and then said to her: "Grace, I know I asked this before, and

I think we got off track, but, did you enjoy teaching? Do you regret taking the position with NYU?" She looked at him, and answered thoughtfully: "I enjoyed

teaching - I know I can do it." She stopped to collect her thoughts… "but….I. . I love you more than any job, than anything. I feel so lost when I am away

from you. I really miss you…. .this has been harder than I expected." He kissed her again, wanting to make things better at once. She said: "Oliver, I can do

one or the other, but not both anymore." He said: "Okay, love…we will get things back to normal. I promise. I am really sorry that this had been hard on you."

He kissed her temple and squeezed her a little more in his arms. She said: "Oliver, this has been magical. We did get to explore our love and we did have

more privacy. I got to know you in ways I never dreamed about before. I got to know you, Oliver… and I really love everything you are. I would not trade that

for anything. You being my boyfriend has been so thrilling and lovely. We would never have had a lot of the experiences we had this spring and summer if I

had not taken this job. My little studio. Our alone time. All of it magical and I will tell you, Oliver, you make my heart skip a beat just by walking in a room. I

have never felt this way before.. . .until I fell in love with you." He smiled at her and kissed her hand. He said: "Grace, I feel exactly the same way about you.

I cannot even think of anything but kissing you and taking you in my arms when you walk into a room. You are absolutely delicious and beautiful so smart

and so funny and sweet and I want you every moment. I never want this to end." She said: "Of course not…neither do I... I am not worried about our love –

our love is not going to end. I am worried about you – burning the candle at both ends, driving home alone in the wee hours of the night, I worry about your

health, your exhaustion, your stress." She looked at him lovingly and he knew she meant it. She continued: "We had a fun adventure, and I want more, but I

just cannot teach and work at the estate. In the fall, they want me to go full time. I just cannot cut myself in half anymore." He took all of this in, kissing her

and inhaling her scent, and waited a few moments before saying: "Grace, I certainly do not want you to feel like that. I want you to be happy." She leaned

completely into him, snuggling against him more. He stroked her back and held her against him. She said: "I don't know if you are aware of it, but I am

happy when I am with you." She said this, but in her head, she wondered if it had sounded overly needy. She was needy. For him, and he was the same: for

her. He said: "Grace, I am only happy and complete with you. I need you. I want you. I do not like leaving you in the middle of the night, each of us going to

our separate beds. I have had the pleasure of you falling asleep in my arms on your sofa. There is no going back from there. I want so much more for us." He

was serious, he wanted to elevate their relationship. She squeezed him back and said: "I want more for us, too. We have worked so hard, we have kept our

love out of the office – for the most part, and we have both added to our workload to accommodate our affair." Her words landed on him, making him sit up a

bit. He pulled back so that he could look at her. He said: "Grace, we are certainly in a relationship that is, well, more than an affair. You are the love of my

life." She locked eyes with him, waiting a moment before saying: "I only meant an affair in the sense that we have had so much passion, so much love and

well, we have sort of been keeping things under wraps…affairs are like that. I did not mean to sound like our love was cheapened in any way. You are the love

of my life, too. I have never loved anyone the way I love you." He pulled her onto his lap and kissed her passionately his hand draped over her legs, his

fingers finding the hemline of her skirt, or the top of her stocking, as he kissed her neck and throat, dipping his head between her breasts. The rain continued

to come down in sheets. The rear windows of the limousine were completely fogged up.

She would kiss him all over, nibbling his ear and covering his neck and lips with kisses until she heard him moan. The sounds he made never failed to make

her even more in tune with her sexual desire for this man. She wanted him more than ever; in keeping with this role-playing adventure they found

themselves in, they agreed to wait. It was understood between them that they meant to wait. Sex would be icing on their cake. For now, though, they could

have fun and explore each other – the tease was so intense between them. They had not seen each other naked. They had never taken their clothes off

together. Oliver wanted to explode, and Grace was driven to distraction. They both dealt with their desires separately. For their individual sanity. They both

had healthy attitudes and even healthier drives regarding their sexuality. Oliver was well in control of himself and found his intimacy with Grace – the kissing,

the loving, the touching – all without the climax, literally, of sex – tantric. He liked the waiting and the wanting, and he knew it was worth every sweet and

agonizing moment. He liked that she left so much to his imagination. He liked that they were pursuing things the way they were. He liked the lack of

pressure, the lack of stigma to their relationship – that it would somehow be cheapened in the court of public opinion. She wanted to wait, and he would wait

for her. He wanted her to learn about sex from him and he wanted to show her why it was called 'making love', he wanted to have that with her. He wanted to

learn what she liked, he wanted to learn everything about her body that he could. He wanted to see her naked in his bed. She had no idea just how much he

thought about that. He wanted her relaxed and happy and in the frame of mind that there was no shame, and while he didn't think it a bad thing to have sex

before marriage, he thought that Grace was above just giving into temptation and jumping into bed. He wanted her to put a ring on his finger, and he wanted

to put a ring on her finger. He was fine with waiting. He would wait all time for her.

They agreed in intimate conversations about this subject that there should be no guilt. They would talk about everything alone, he would often sit across from

her, his knees outside of hers, their hands laced, their heads together in conference. He spoke softly to her, looking into her eyes and her face as he almost

whispered his life experiences, his stories, his trials. He showed her the faint scars on his hand and wrist and explained to her that as a twelve year-old boy

who had never been on a ship, he was initiated with a significant rope burn almost as soon as he got started on that first Transatlantic voyage. Nobody

warned him, he was just a kid. He had to wrap his hand and handle it himself. It was then that he knew he was on his own, he told her. He always looked at

his scars as honorable and as a reminder that he should always educate himself about the world and be his own advocate. As stated earlier in this story,

Oliver had been on 'high alert' since he was a child. He revealed to her how sometimes, he deeply regretted taking on the false surname "Warbucks". He

adopted it as a "young, stupid and arrogant boy, not yet a man". He told her that "money doesn't make people smarter or more mature." To this she agreed,

thinking to herself about all the wealthy people in her circle who had so much trouble finding fulfillment that didn't come from a checkbook or a bottle. He

revealed that his true identity was on all of his personal identification and passports. She already knew this. She had personally handled his travel and

business arrangements for years, and his passport had passed through her hands to be put in the safe many times, as well as his airlines tickets and his

personal pilot's license. All of those had the 'Havens' surname. She had bought him a wallet with his real initials. She smiled and said: "I've known your real

name. For years. I never brought it up….because..it made sense. It made sense in that your surname of 'Warbucks' sounded…like it was not …real…Oliver

Edward Havens is your real name and honestly, Oliver, it suits you so well." He looked at her and he smiled at her. She said "I love your name. I think it is

handsome…like you." She kissed his nose and then his lips. After kissing her back and looking into her eyes, he said: "Thank you, love...I wasn't sure if you

knew..I should have figured it out when you gave me my wallet for my birthday. I know you are the definition of discretion." He had transferred all of his

cards, I.D. and money into the wallet she had given him, and he had used it ever since. He smiled and continued; "My turn: what is your middle name?" He

had that mischievous look of a kid on his face as he asked. She smirked a little and said: "I promise you, it is a very old and very ordinary name: Ellen." He

was delighted to know this. He said: "Ellen! Grace Ellen Farrell. That is such a beautiful name. Like you. . . . . Oh! And we both have 'E' as a middle initial!"

His realization of this seemingly minor coincidence was expressed with a childlike enthusiasm. He beamed at her and leaned over to kiss her. Their

conversations were alight with wonder – he wanted to know all about her childhood, all the stories, all the people. He was utterly in love with everything

about her, and could barely contain himself, his feelings, and his attraction. He expressed it to her in his love letters, he left her no doubt that he was hers. He

was her intended, her fate and the love of her life. He called her the love of his life, in written and spoken word. She was his salvation and restoration from

his 'before' life – his 'previous' existence. The years he tried to bury in his work and travel, acquisitions, were simply a toxic distraction. He realized what

counted. Not money. Not power. Not capitalism. She showed him that love mattered. Love was the only thing that mattered, and it conquered all, it was the

most powerful force, and they were in it, immersed in love for each other. It was healing – to feel like this – it healed all the trauma and hurt. Oliver had

never felt like that before – completely immersed and completely loved by someone the way he felt with Grace. This was a new and life-changing feeling for

him, and it opened his eyes. He was reminded of the ticking clock, how he had been given this second wind and second chance at happiness in life, with

Grace. He was not going to blow this. Oliver had lived on ships during puberty. He had been with many women and had many sexual experiences early in life.

He also fought off men who wanted to assault him as a teenager and he had a reputation for not putting up with 'buggery'. He had never been forced, and he

had never forced a person in his life – ever. He was lucky enough to be a big man in size, and he employed that advantage whenever he needed to put

someone in their place. The first time anyone tried this with him, it was in his captain's cabin. Another mate had come in and was attempting to coerce Oliver.

Oliver was fourteen. Tall for his age – had taken advantage of every morsel of food and had even acquisitioned several stores for himself aboard ship. He was

particularly angry that day at the fact that rats had found his stash. When the mate came in and tried to assault him, Oliver ended up breaking that man's

nose, and leaving him with two cracked ribs and a black eye. He had seen other ship mates act worse than animals, drunken public behavior at harbors,

coming back to the ship with injuries or some kind of horrible sexual diseases – diseases that wouldn't display symptoms until the ship was leagues and

leagues away from that harbor. He had witnessed the ravages of syphilis and other untreatable diseases. This had made him extremely prudent in his

sexuality. He guarded his sexual well-being like the treasure it was. Oliver, as far as he knew, was clean. He had not had a sexual relationship with anyone

since Charlotte. He had never had any physical issues due to that relationship, however, being sexual with her made him vulnerable. He was aware of

repercussions and possibilities in blackmailing and other forms of extortion. He decided that after his break up with Charlotte, he would be celibate – that is,

until Grace came into his life. Now, he felt reborn, renewed and like he was twenty-five again. He got aroused just thinking about her., and he thought about

her A LOT. His years of celibacy had tempered him for the wait with Grace. He could do this and so could she. This is what they each told themselves, trying

to bolster their resolve. There were times, though, when they had to stop in the midst of a heated rendezvous after several days apart. They had to push

themselves away from each other and take a deep breath. He would breathe in and out – hard, straightening his shirt and waistcoat. He would put a strand of

her chestnut hair back in place. He would kiss the end of her nose, her forehead and he would say: "My God, Grace. Oh my love….I need a minute." Grace

was overwhelmed as well; her desire was shot for shot on par with his. He stirred feelings in her that defied anything she had ever felt in her life. Oliver would

lovingly touch her face and kiss her, taking care not to get things heated any further. They had quite a powerful chemistry. There was nothing else in the

world when they were in each other's arms, their emotions and need for touch were overpowering. Oliver, at this time of needing "a minute" had come to a

decision about them. He was unable to keep seeing her as just a 'girlfriend', and he had a simple, and very privately held plan to alter their relationship once

again. It was on a Friday night, late, when they had just such a passionate meeting, he kissed her, she was facing him on his lap, holding her face with both

hands. He pulled back, looking at her and seeing her face and how it changed when they kissed like this. He noticed not only a glow, but an actual change in

her face – her eyes were shaped differently, her face was softer and she rarely dropped her gaze from his eyes when they were like this. She would touch

him, too. She would gently touch his face, marveling at his features, his lips were so irresistible to her, she would kiss him as often as she could. They had a

very loving and sensual way of kissing. Oliver loved to feel the way she explored how to kiss – this was all new to her. He was very loving, and a completely

different man since they opened up to each other. They softly and lovingly explored the best way for them, they talked openly about what felt good, she

asked him if what she was doing was okay. He answered her with: "What you are doing is exquisite, my love…" and they would continue with their loving

exploration, their love growing and with each day that passed, their love was stronger, their bond was unbreakable. All during that spring and summer, he was

walking on air, and she was in a dream half the time. It was a miracle that she was able to compartmentalize her university work, her estate work, and her

almost constant, powerful, distracting, over-her-skis feeling of being in love. Being loved. Feeling that way was a new sensation. Oliver was her first. And he

would be. Her first. Swarthmore College was all girls. She knew some girls were into girls, and she didn't care or judge, she considered it an ancient way for

some humans and it didn't affect her. However, she was not into girls. Her debutante days were filled with chaperoned dances and boys like Andrew. She

never let Andrew get past kissing her, and she barely put up with that, especially when she was cheated on and treated to a few of his abusive and drunk

diatribes. That was how one killed love, not how one cultivated it. With Oliver, it was different – he was hers before she ever met him. She was his as soon as

their paths crossed on this planet. She had never had full-on, consummated relations with anyone, never been in such heated and loving moments of passion

the way she had been recently with Oliver. He was everything she wanted and more. She learned that for a man whose public image was that he was an

ostentatious eccentric bully of Wallstreet – he was one of the most sensitive people Grace had ever known. When they were alone with each other, she noticed

that his face had changed, too. His face softened, too. And she too, loved to watch his eyes change, his lips, his loving gaze all made her fall in love with him

a little more each day. More importantly, to her, was the way he treated her and only her. She was subjected to his romantic side, and it was a side of himself

that he had long ago thought he would permanently abandon. He had a very thoughtful and romantic side to him, and he showered it upon her. He not only

sent her flowers with notes in French, but he would quietly make sure that she had every little thing in her small studio. He had always made sure she was

encouraged, all spring and summer, whenever she would reveal her fears or concerns about her ability, he would tell her every time she spoke of her

professorship that "she was a gift to the university, and they were smart to have hired such a talented and smart and" and he would smile at her, lift her chin

up to him until she would smile, he would continue: "beautiful and ridiculously sexy and very much loved and adored young lady…..they are lucky to have you

at their university run by ugly old, nosy cave men.." by which time he would have been kissing her neck and making her laugh entirely on purpose. The cave

man remark was aimed at her Dean – who was both a cave man in his attitude toward woman, and he was nosy. As he made her laugh and released her

tension and fears, she realized all over again that she wanted so much to have him completely. The waiting was indeed difficult. Later on that night when

Oliver said that he 'needed a minute', they had not seen each other since the prior Tuesday. They were both in love, aroused and out of their depth. Sexual

frustration, the tease was delicious and agonizing. The week had been difficult, but both of them had kept Friday night in their sights. Their reunion in the

back of the limo was almost scandalous. She was on his lap before he had even completely shut the limo door. The way she was kissing him, her eager leap

into his arms, their intensity becoming overpowering and harder to keep at bay. His plan had been rolling around in his mind for several weeks, if not since he

picked her up at the train, that first night. To him, that night was the beginning of time. He marked everything since then as "since Grace….", and everything

before that night may as well have been in the time of dinosaurs. It was the 'before time'. He could not remember a time when he didn't love her, and he

certainly wasn't trying. None of it mattered. That rainy afternoon in the limo, he spoke to her softly: "Grace, tomorrow is Saturday. Can you break away with

me for the whole day?" He stroked her cheek with his finger. She looked into his eyes and said: "Mmm hmm…I can do that, yes. Breaking away with you for

any amount of time is lovely…" and she kissed him. He continued to stare at her face, his eyes flickering over every detail, he continued: "Grace, I am going

to take you to dinner, and then I am going to take you to your apartment, and I am going to go home and go right to bed. I want you to do the same, set

your alarm and be ready for me at 8 a.m. Are you okay with that?" He kissed her, very gently and very sensuously, taking his time, pulling her into him.

When they finished that kiss, she looked him over, a small smile on her loving face, she said: "I am very much okay with that." She ran her hands down his

front, lovingly stroking his chest. She laid her head down on him, he pulled her closer. After they had eaten, they headed back to her studio. The rain had

cooled things down, and it was starting again. He found his discarded raincoat next to her and pulled it up and over her. "Let's get you home, love." Freshly

intoxicated by him, she agreed. He walked her to her door, his coat still over her shoulders, he kissed her good night. He held both of her hands in his, he

said: "I love you, Grace Farrell. I love you so much." He kissed her hands, then her lips. She was under their spell. She said, very softly so that he had to lean

in to hear her: "I love you, Oliver Havens." She kissed his lips, pressing her body fully into his, he encircled her with his arms. She circled his waist with her

arms and gazed up at him, smiling with joy. She asked: "Do you want your coat back?" He looked at her inside of his coat, deciding she was the cutest thing

he had ever seen, he said: "You keep it until tomorrow, I want you to be dry and get inside. I won't leave until you are in." He kissed her again. She kissed

him back and said: "I love you. I'll blink for you." With his hands on her waist, he jokingly said: "I love when you blink for me…" One more kiss. They were

almost unable to stop themselves. She said: "I should get in…the rain is coming down harder. I love you." He said: "I love you." She walked across the

sidewalk to the inside the lobby of her building, the doorman tipping his hat as he held the door for her. Oliver got back in his car, and sat, looking up to the

fourth floor, the second window from the right. It took her about 3 minutes to get from the lobby to her door. She let herself in, locking the door behind her.

She went over to a floor lamp near her window facing the street and she turned it on and off three times. First: "I" Second: "Love" Third: "You." He saw it

from his limo, satisfied that she was in safely. As the limo pulled away from her curb, the sky opened up and the rain came down in sheets.