Marrying Mr. English:The English Brothers #7(34)

February 1, 1982

Haverford Park



Dear Tom,



There is no easy way to begin a letter like this, especially when  writing to one's grandson from whom one is estranged. Best cut to the  chase. My health is in decline. I was diagnosed with cancer just after  Christmas. I've been advised that I don't have more than six months to  live.



It's cold reality that we all must step up to the life eternal at some  point, and my time comes quickly now, Tom. I know you see me as a flinty  old bastard, but I'm also a man who needs to make amends before his  time is up.



When you introduced me to your wife in December, I was hard on you, and  on her. I was certain that you'd married her solely to secure your  inheritance, and that once in hand, you'd divorce. I thought I smelled  trickery when she walked into my office, so much younger and less  sophisticated than the other women you'd dated. I expected that when I  cut you off, you'd get rid of her quickly and take me up on my offer for  more time. I never thought you'd choose her over family. I never  thought you'd choose her over money.



You're not a bad man, Tom, but life has been handed to you on a silver  platter in many ways. Your expenses have always been paid, your  schooling and college a gift from me. It's not that you squandered your  gifts, but you never seemed to take yourself very seriously,  glad-handing instead of working, skiing the slopes instead of hunkering  down at your desk. I worried I'd created a playboy. I hoped that the  love of a good, stable woman could turn you around.



Turns out, I was right. It was this girl from Colorado whom you barely  knew, who I assumed was a ringer, who somehow made you grow up. You  turned your back on the easy life: on Haverford Park, on your father, on  me, and, most remarkably, on your trust, in order to keep her in your  life. I know that you are teaching at dear old Kinsey to support her,  and for the first time in my tired old life, I know a feeling of true  pride when I think of my oldest grandson.



You will recall that all I ever wanted was for you to find a good woman  who'd make you honest, make you hardworking, and make you true. Turns  out, this little waitress from Vail was the ticket. Old fool that I am, I  just didn't see it.



When you're ready to return to Haverford Park with your bride, I will be  ready to welcome her into our family. I will only be sorry I don't have  more time to get to know her and to see your marriage to her deepen and  flourish.



Please come soon, Tom.



Your,



Grandfather



By the time Eleanora finished reading, the letter was dotted with  teardrops and her coffee had grown cold. Glancing up at the kitchen  clock, she saw that it was not even six yet, which meant that Tom would  be asleep for another hour, at least.

Wiping her nose with the corner of her bathrobe, she stood up from her  seat and found pen and paper in a kitchen drawer. Then she sat back down  at the table and started a letter of her own.





Chapter 17




Two weeks into his stint as resident adviser for the sophomores at  Cambridge Hall, Tom wouldn't exactly say that he enjoyed his second  job-and being away from Eleanora almost every night was sheer hell-but  he felt satisfaction in knowing that he was providing for her and Beth  or Barrett.

She'd been to see an excellent obstetrician in Litchfield this week, who  estimated her pregnancy at eight weeks and gave her a due date of  September twenty-first. Tom was relieved by this news, because if he was  rehired for the next school year, he'd have health insurance by August  and enough of a raise for their bills to be slightly less worrisome.                       
       
           



       

Things weren't perfect, but they were looking up, and Tom felt proud of  taking responsibility for his life: for his wife, his marriage, his job,  and his child. It wasn't a flashy life, but it was his-totally  self-made, with the help of his beloved-and that made him feel good  about it.

Which is why Dean Gordon's news on Sunday morning was so unwelcome.

"Tom!" shouted Neville from across the quad.

Tom was hurrying to his car. It was 8:01, and he was headed home to  Eleanora. He'd wake her up by making love to her, and then they'd have  all day, and, more importantly, all night, together.

"Hello, Neville!" he called, opening his car door, and shoving his duffel bag of dirty laundry in the passenger seat.

"Glad I caught you before you headed home. Good news! We hired a new man  for phys ed, and he'll be moving into Cambridge on Monday!"

Tom felt his face fall. No, he didn't love sleeping across town from his  wife, but working two jobs was padding his bank account. He needed this  job.

"Oh no," said Neville, reading Tom's expression. "I thought you only wanted it to be temporary."

"I did. I . . ." He paused, looking down at the ground before flicking  his gaze back up to Neville's sorry eyes. "Eleanora's pregnant. The  money was, well, I was glad to have it."

"Tom! Well, that's smashing news!"

"Thank you, sir," said Tom, unable to keep a smile from breaking out across his face.

Dean Gordon winced. "But I've made a terrible mistake. I'll, uh, I'll tell Mr. Gibbons that we don't need-"

"But we do need a phys ed teacher," said Tom. "And room and board at Cambridge are part of the job."

"Maybe we could find him off-campus housing, or . . ."

Tom reached out and put his hand on Neville's shoulder. "No, sir. It's all right. Perhaps I can find something else."

"If it's any consolation, I will be recommending to the board that you  are hired as our full-time English teacher this fall, Tom. You've been  just terrific with the boys."

Tom brightened a bit. It wouldn't help them now, but it would be a  relief to have health insurance when the baby came. "Thank you, sir.  That's great news."

"Is it?" Neville smiled at Tom amicably, but his expression was  thoughtful. "Do you like teaching, Tom? Is this where you belong? At  Kinsey? I know that we were a bit of a haven for you in December, when  you first arrived. But taking on this lifestyle is a choice, and I hope  you'll do some thinking before June, when you're offered the position.  It's not for everyone, and I'd hate to see you land here by default when  your destiny lies somewhere else."

"Where else, sir?"

"You were in finance, weren't you? Working with your father and grandfather?"

"Yes, I was."

"Don't you miss it?"

Tom shrugged. It felt like another lifetime, so very far away from where  he was now, working in Cornwall, Connecticut, living in Weston, with  his wife and a baby on the way. But, to be fair, parts of him did miss  it. He missed the income and security, certainly, but he also missed the  deals and the travel, the opportunity to effect major change, to buy  and sell companies, the thrill of the deal. Yes, he missed it, he  admitted to himself. But it wasn't an option for him. So he'd better  make his peace with teaching.

"My life is here now," said Tom.

"Well, we're happy to have you, Tom. Oh, say, did I tell you that Charity and Geoffrey patched things up?"

Poor Geoff.

"Yes, indeed. Wedding's back on for May."

"Congratulations, Neville. That's fine news."

Neville nodded happily as he turned to walk away. "Say hello to Eleanora for me, will you? And best wishes to both of you."

"Will do. And thank you, sir."

So he'd lost his second job, but he'd be hired on full-time. He thanked  God that he wouldn't have to sleep apart from his wife anymore and just  hoped they could make ends meet until August. They could. They would. He  would do whatever he needed to do to make it happen.

As Tom drove home, his mind wandered back to Neville's words: I'd hate  to see you land here by default when your destiny lies somewhere else.

Tom English's destiny, of course, had always been at Haverford Park,  working for English & Son. But he'd rather taken it for granted,  hadn't he? He hadn't poured his all into English & Son the way he'd  given his all to Kinsey. What if he had? What if he had knuckled down  and worked hard? What if he'd had Eleanora by his side to cheer him on  and keep him focused?                       
       
           



       

His face hardened. There's where the fantasy ended. Eleanora wasn't  welcome in his old life, which meant his only option for the future was  this life, here at Kinsey, where they were both welcome and respected.  So be it.

Turning into his driveway, Tom was shocked to find a limousine parked  out in front of his house, and even more shocked when he saw the driver,  Smith, behind the wheel. Young Smith was his grandfather's newly hired  driver, which meant that . . .