Page 54 of Hearts of Wealth

Timothy

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I KNOCKED ON THE DOOR, knowing Catherine wasn’t home but wanting to alert John I was coming in. I opened the door. “John? It’s Timothy.”

“In here,” I heard him call out.

I walked into the house and saw he was seated on the couch with his feet up on an ottoman. “Hey, John. I see you’ve been promoted to the couch.”

“The warden said I was a good boy,” he muttered.

“She’s taking good care of you,” I reminded him.

He opened his mouth and was about to say something when he stopped. “What do I smell?”

“I checked the fat content and everything else,” I said.

“Checked the fat content on what?”

“I brought you some lunch,” I said, keeping my voice low just in case Catherine had the place bugged.

“What is it?”

“It’s a grilled chicken sandwich, sweet potato fries, and a Diet Coke,” I said.

“Bless you, my child,” he sighed.

I handed him the bag and soda and took a seat in one of the chairs. I looked around the living room, appreciating the progress Catherine had made on the place. The goal was to get it into move-in condition for John. At least, that had been the goal. I wasn’t sure what was going on now. With his health, it was going to be hard to leave him alone. I understood that.

I pulled out my own chicken sandwich and leaned back in the chair. John was tearing through his like he hadn’t eaten in a month.

“You know, John,” I began, breaking the comfortable silence between us, “I’ve been thinking a lot lately.”

John glanced up from his sandwich, raising an eyebrow in curiosity. “Oh? What about?”

I took a deep breath, trying to gather my thoughts. This was a conversation I had been rehearsing in my mind for days, and now that the moment was finally here, I couldn’t help but feel a surge of nervousness.

“I want to marry Catherine,” I blurted out, my words tumbling out in a rush. “I know she doesn’t need anyone to take care of her, but I want to be with her, John. I want the honor of calling her my wife. I want to take care of her. I love her. She’s the only woman I want to be with. I’d like to have your permission.”

John’s expression softened at my words. He put his sandwich down, giving me his full attention. “Well, Timothy, why on earth do you need my permission to marry my daughter? Last I checked, she’s a grown woman capable of making her own decisions. This is not the Dark Ages. I don’t expect you to give me a couple of goats for her. I don’t think I’ve had a say in what Catherine does in fifteen years.”

I couldn’t help but chuckle at John’s response. Leave it to him to cut straight to the heart of the matter. But I knew there was more to his question than just a simple refusal to give consent.

“I know, John,” I said earnestly, meeting his gaze. “But you mean a lot to Catherine, and your opinion matters to her. I want you to be a part of this decision, to know that I respect and value your relationship with her. I know you and I have had our differences. “

“Because I didn’t think you were in it for the long run,” he said. “I didn’t want her to be jerked around or your weekend friend. She’s better than that.”

“I agree.” I nodded. “I don’t want that either. I truly do love her.”

“I can’t deny that you’re a good man, and Catherine seems to think the world of you. I’m warming up to the idea of you and her.”

He was joking, which I appreciated. “I know I have to prove myself, but I know I will. I am confident I’m the man that will make her happy.”

“Because you’re wealthy?”

“She doesn’t give a shit about my money,” I said. “My house, on the other hand—”

He laughed and nodded. “That’s very true. I want her to be happy. If you’re the man that makes her happy, so be it. I won’t stand in your way, but if you hurt her, I will find a way to kick your ass. I’m old and apparently feeble, but I’ll find a way.”