Going Home - Preparations

'Absolutely.' I agreed. 'It looks fragile.'

'It is. We're only moving the bronze. The foundry provided a special transport case for it. I only took it out because it needed some final touches over the last few days. The birdbath stays put for now.'

We gingerly placed the bronze in its transport case and put it on the bench seat in Ian's truck.

'Get in. We can ride to the house together. I'll drive slowly. You make sure the box doesn't move,' he said.

'OK. But before we go, can I talk to you about the wedding for a moment?' I asked.

'I suppose. What now?' he smiled. 'Is it going to cost more money? Just feeding you and Gwen will have me in the poorhouse by the time you go back to school.' I knew he was only teasing.

'I want to help with the wedding expenses. I dropped this on you without warning. It wasn't fair to you and Edith.'

Ian laughed. 'You're a student. You can't afford to pay for a wedding. I've known for a long time my daughter would get married some day. I planned for it. The timing was a surprise, but not the cost.'

'How about I buy the liquor and drinks?' I volunteered.

'You haven't met my uncles and cousins. You can't possibly understand what that will cost. They can drink an awful lot of booze at a party like this one will be.' Ian was laughing.

I smiled back at him. 'I can afford it.'

'Tell you what, I'll let you pay for the rehearsal dinner. And we'll go into Boston for it. Find an expensive restaurant to put a nice dent in your wallet. OK?'

'OK.'

We left for the house and carried the bronze into the living room and put it on the dining room table. Ian put a red bow on it and a tag with Edith's name. It smelled like breakfast was ready.

After breakfast, we adjourned to the living room to open our gifts.

The gift exchange took some time and included the usual assortment of sweaters, socks, knickknacks, gadgets, and parlor games. Edith was thrilled with her hummingbirds. Ian promised he'd set the bird bath up where she could see it through the kitchen window and where she sat outside during warmer weather. Gwen was thrilled with her new camera and accessories. Ian thanked me for the watch, commenting he hoped to get this one to last longer than the last one.

'We almost missed this one. It's for you, Jonas,' Ian said as he retrieved a small package from the back of the tree. He handed it to Gwen, who handed it to me.

'After Mom learned you were coming for Christmas, she started looking for a gift. She found this in an estate sale in Cambridge. A box of old magazines was being tossed out. She was told she could have the box. She found something you might like and figured what the heck,' Gwen told me, 'the price was right.'

'It's nothing special,' Edith said. 'But you might like it.'

I unwrapped the gift and took the top off the box under the wrapping. Inside, I saw an old German physics journal. I took it out and held it carefully. I couldn't believe what I was looking at. It was a copy of the scientific journal Annalen der Physik 17, containing Einstein's paper on the photoelectric effect. There was another copy of Annalen der Physik 17, with Einstein's paper on Brownian motion. Two more copies of Annalen der Physik 17 were in the box containing Einstein's papers on special relativity and the equivalence of mass and energy. Einstein's Annus Mirabilis papers. There was no stamp or label on them saying 'Library Property'. These had been sent to a subscriber. They might have been read, but they didn't look like they had been handled more than a few times.

I was dumbfounded. I'd read all these papers. In textbooks. These were original publications. The physics equivalent of Shakespeare's First Folio.

I vaguely heard Edith's voice. 'I don't think he likes them. He isn't saying anything.'

I looked up at Edith. Still nearly speechless, I managed to haltingly ask, 'How did you know what these were? They're in German.'

Edith laughed. 'Ich less ond spresh ina bisscha Deutsch. (It should have been 'Ich lese und spreche ein bisschen Deutsch'. I read and speak a little German),' she said.

I smiled and stifled a chuckle. Edith was a smart, college-educated woman. I'd bet she read better than she spoke because she didn't have anyone to speak German with. I remedied that over the years to come.

'I saw they were physics journals and had Albert Einstein's name in them,' she continued, returning to English. 'He's a very famous physicist so I thought you might enjoy reading something he wrote.'

'I can't accept these.' I whispered, trying to be careful with my tone. I didn't succeed. Gwen was stunned. Ian looked like he might tear my head off. Edith looked hurt.

I quickly realized I needed to explain further. 'I'm sorry. It's not that I don't like them. They're wonderful. I can't imagine a better Christmas gift. But these are original copies of the publications that made Einstein famous. They're very valuable. They belong in a university archive.'

'Oh, they're just old magazines.' Edith protested. 'I insist you keep them.

'Ich möchte dich küssen (I want to kiss you.)' I said to Edith. She blushed, so I knew she understood me.

Ian no longer looked angry, though I could see he was curious as to what I had just said.

'Ian, remember what you asked that first afternoon while we waited for lunch?' I asked.

He thought for a moment. 'Yeah,' he responded, hesitantly.

I grinned at him. 'I've changed my mind. If Gwen doesn't marry me, I'm going to steal your girl.'

Ian looked down and shook his head. But I could tell he was smiling. He looked at me still grinning and said, 'If you even think about it, I'll kick you in the ass so hard you'll get a nosebleed.' We shared a laugh. I knew then I could begin to relax around my future father-in-law.

Gwen wore a confused grin. Edith blushed redder.

Various aunts, uncles, and cousins from both sides of Gwen's family stopped in for visits, before, during, and after dinner. Alice came by with her long-time boyfriend before heading off to see his family. Jane and my father joined us before dinner was ready. Ian and Edith welcomed my father like the old friend he was. Jane was welcomed warmly and soon made herself at home in Edith's kitchen. Neither Ian nor Edith mentioned their missing friend, my mother. I was glad of it for Jane's sake. We didn't see Mike Christmas Day.

The days between Christmas and the New Year passed quickly. We had little time to ourselves. Gwen and I stayed close to home New Year's Eve. We both just wanted to relax and spend a quiet evening together, alone if possible. Unfortunately, we were unable to get away from Gwen's parents and family for more than a walk down the road. Gwen's cousin's twelve-year-old daughter wanted join us for our walk. Gwen was fond of Eira and couldn't bring herself to say no.

Eira was a sweet kid, precocious and observant. Though usually quiet, she was not shy. She had a quick, sharp wit that was startling from someone so young. When she interjected a comment, it was usually two-pronged. Hysterically funny and a keen, on-point observation. And she didn't have a filter. She said what was on her mind. She often hovered unobtrusively around adults, taking in every word.

Her name, Welsh for snow, fit her perfectly. She had a flawless, almost white complexion, blue-gray eyes. Thick, lustrous black hair framed a pretty face with an unruly mass of curls. She could be as quiet as the hush during a snowfall but could paint a different picture, like fresh-fallen snow changed a landscape, with a few well-chosen words.

As Gwen and I walked arm and arm, Eira beside Gwen. Eira talked incessantly, that night. About school. About boys. About her other cousins. It started out directed at Gwen. Then at one point, she changed sides and began walking alongside me. I became her target.

'Do you have any brothers or sisters, Jonas?' she began my interrogation.

'No, I don't.' I answered.

'You're lucky. I've got two little brothers. They bug me all the time. How about cousins? Cousins are the best,' she continued.

'Unfortunately, no cousins either.'

'Don't you have any family?' she asked.

'Just my father.' I told her.

'My mom says you're a scientist, like it's a big deal. Are you? Why does that make you different from everyone? You seem to be like everyone else, except no cousins or anything,' Eira she continued.

'I'm studying to be a scientist. And I am just like everyone else.' I told her. 'The only way I might be different is the level of my interest in science. Do you like science?'

'I have to take it in school. I like it okay. How come you're marrying Aunt Gwen? My mom says the only reason men want to get married is so they have someone to screw.'

Gwen choked back a laugh. I couldn't suppress a smile. I don't think Eira saw it. It was dark and she was watching where she walked.

'Did your Mom tell you that?' Gwen asked, doing her best not to betray amusement.

'She didn't tell me. She said it to Aunt Anna last week.' Eira said, matter-of-factly.

'Do you know what she was talking about?' I asked, curiously.

'Of course. My room is right next to Mom's and Dad's. I hear them sometimes at night. I saw them screwing once when I got up to get a drink of water.'

'I want to marry Gwen because I love her and want to spend my life with her.' I told Eira.

'You don't want to screw her?' Eira asked pointedly.

Gwen stepped in. 'It's more complicated than that, Eira.'

'Not according to Mom. She told Aunt Anna men are simple creatures. All they want is someone to feed them and someone to screw.'

'I think your mom must have been mad at your dad when she said that.' Gwen told her.

"Uh-uh. They were talking about Uncle Griff.' Griff was Anna's husband. I had met him earlier. I didn't know him well, but he made an impression. He wasn't very bright. And he was a self-centered jerk.

That pretty much wrapped up our talk with Eira because we got back to the house about then. Eira ran inside immediately. Gwen and I hung back for a moment.

'Eira is something else,' I said to Gwen with a smile once Eira was gone.

Gwen was trying not to laugh but mostly failing. 'I'll talk to my cousin about her. I think it's time her mother had the talk with her. Betty has her hands full with that one. But I'm afraid that Eira's too bright for Betty.'

'I like her,' I told Gwen. 'If she ever learns to keep some of her thoughts to herself, instead of saying what's on her mind all the time, she'll be dangerous. Some poor guy will never know what hit him.'

Gwen smiled at me. 'I was much like her at that age,' she told me. 'Maybe a little less forward.'

It wasn't much of a revelation, but I didn't say so.

Between the New Year's Day festivities at the pond, which it seemed the entire town came for, and the wedding, Gwen and I were going non-stop. Mike flitted in and out to help as she could. She had family obligations of her own.

Ian and Edith purchased their farm from the town for the back taxes owed when few people had any money. It had been owned by a distant relative of Edith's that died with no heirs. Ian and Edith started their New Year's bonfire and skate shortly after buying the farm. It started out as a pot luck thing with family and a few friends. As Ian's stature in the town and in the art community grew, more and more people were invited until it became essentially a town-wide event. It was informal, loosely organized, not publicized, and still a pot luck affair.

A town-owned snowplow cleared the pond on New Year's morning. Ian and I prepared a gigantic bonfire in a large fire-pit built some years previously. A neighbor and his college-age son arrived with two horse-drawn sleighs to give rides. A hill on the property provided a place for sledding and tobogganing.

The first visitors arrived just before noon. Eventually, cars lined both sides of the road for a mile in both directions. Many brought camp stoves and armloads of food. Before long, there was enough hot food, coffee, tea, and hot chocolate for an army, everyone sharing their contributions. I saw a few people take nips from hip flasks, but for the most part, no one was drinking.

The pond was a free-for-all with skaters. At one end, away from the crowd, some high school kids set up two goals and played hockey. My father was greeted warmly by a surprising number of people when he and Jane arrived. In a small town, news traveled quickly. I'm sure Edith or Ian had mentioned my mother had passed away. She had grown up here, too. Only a few were inconsiderate enough to ask about my mother. My father brushed off the inquiries with a short, polite response and an introduction to his new wife. Jane took it all in stride.

Gwen's upcoming wedding was of some interest to almost everyone. She grew up in a small town with a population under two thousand, where everyone had at least a passing acquaintance with everyone else. I was the target of some curiosity and a little jealousy. Especially among some of the still single, local guys that went to high school with Gwen. She'd had no interest in any of the local boys beyond platonic friendships. Which, apparently, was almost all of them. At times, the attention made me uncomfortable, though most of Gwen's local male acquaintances were friendly and pleasant enough.

The day after the New Year's Day celebration nothing was planned. Gwen and I got up while it was still dark and escaped for a day together, alone. Edith got up and despite our insistence that she should go back to bed, fixed breakfast for us.

We spent the day in Boston, finally giving Gwen a chance to show me around the historic city where radicals instigated the break from England. We visited the Old North Church, the Constitution, the site of the Battle of Bunker Hill, and the Old State House. We closed out the afternoon at the Quincy Market where we strolled through the shops, browsing and making a few small purchases. We ate an early dinner at a busy and popular seafood place.

Gwen suggested we spend some time at the Beacon Hill town house. We arrived there before dark. A tall man in a business suit, cashmere overcoat, gloves, and Homberg hat was just locking up.

He stopped when he saw us approach the entrance.

'Hello.' I greeted him pleasantly, not knowing who he was and not wanting trouble.

He looked at me curiously. 'Do I know you?' he asked.

'No. But maybe you should. I'm Jonas Taylor. This was my grandfather's house.' I told him. 'May I ask who you are?'

He offered his gloved right hand. I extended my casted hand. He took it without hesitation and shook vigorously. Fortunately, my hand didn't hurt anymore.

'Mr. Taylor. My manager told me you were in the area. I'm Arthur Clemmons. My firm manages the property for the trust. I was just leaving after making my weekly check of the premises.' He reached inside his overcoat and took out a business card to give me. I looked at it briefly and pocketed it.

'It's nice to meet you, Mr. Clemmons.' I told him. 'I visited the house recently. I saw one room that looked lived in. Do you stay here?'

'About twice a month, occasionally more often,' he responded. 'The company is based in Worcester, where I live. We manage several properties in the Boston area. The house has been unoccupied since Mr. Bailey's death. We came to an agreement with the trust. I stay in the servant's quarters when I must remain in Boston overnight. In return, we bill only the costs we incur. The agreement is only in effect while the house is unoccupied. If the trust decides to rent it out, or of course you move in, then I must find other lodgings and we bill as normal.'

'I'm not moving in.' I told him. 'At least, not now. But I may visit periodically and occasionally have need of the house. Is it acceptable to notify you of my intention to visit?'

'Of course,' he responded. 'The trust maintains the property for your benefit.'

'Anything else I need to know?' I asked.

'A maid comes in twice a month to clean. There is a pad on the desk in the servant's quarters. Leave a note if something that needs tending. Please call or write if you have a question or need something. You have keys?'

'Yes, Mr. Clemmons.'

'Then, good day to you, Mr. Taylor. I must get going if I hope to get home before my wife puts the kids to bed.'

Gwen and I went inside and locked the door behind us. We both wanted a glass of wine. I checked the basement to see if there was a wine cellar. There was a collection of about a hundred bottles in a rack against the wall opposite the stairs. The bottles were covered with a thick layer of dust. Gwen preferred white but liked red, too. I picked a chardonnay and a merlot and went back upstairs.

I wiped down the bottles and offered Gwen her choice. She chose white. I opened the bottle and poured two glasses. I started for the living room, planning to turn on the radio, but Gwen took my elbow and held me back. Still holding her wine glass, she kissed me gently. We went into the living room and sat together on the couch after I turned on the radio.

We sat quietly for a few minutes, my arm around her, her head on my shoulder.

'This is nice,' she said. 'I'm going to like being able to do this with you every night.'

'Me, too. But it can't be like this all the time. We'll still have Mike living with us. And children will make evenings like this rare.'

'How do you know so much about being married? You don't have brothers and sisters. And only a father. How can you be so sure?' she teased.

'I'm just being pragmatic. And I remember living with my parents when Mom was still alive. Even with just me to worry about, they rarely sat and listened to the radio with a glass of wine.'

'I love you, Jonas.'

'I love you, too, Gwen.'

Gwen set her glass down on the coffee table and curled up tightly to me. 'I still haven't got my period. I'm pretty sure I'm pregnant,' she said softly. 'I've never been more than a week late.'

I kissed the top of her head. 'We have even more reason to be happy.'

'You're not upset?' she asked.

'Not at all. The timing isn't ideal. More for you than me. But there's no reason for me to be upset or angry. My mother once told me I was a bit of a surprise. A happy one, but still a surprise. I didn't know what she meant at the time.' I continued, 'Gwen, I love you. We'll manage.'

'Will you still love me when I'm fat and waddling around with a big belly?' She almost sounded worried.

'Of course. And you may waddle with a big belly but being pregnant isn't the same as fat.' I told her. 'There'll be a bonus for me, you know.'

'What are you talking about?' she asked obviously not catching on.

'You'll have big boobs!' I joked.

She poked me in the ribs, hard. 'I knew it! You like Mike's big boobs better than mine!' She moved away from me and crossed her arms over her chest, tightly covering her breasts, wearing a pout.

'That's not what I said, and you know it,' I chided. 'How about we go upstairs and I show you how much I like your boobs?' I asked gently.

'I don't know,' she responded, still wearing the pout I knew was as phony as her annoyance. 'Maybe Anna was right! All men want is someone to feed them and screw them.'

Gwen had two ticklish spots that rendered her completely helpless. One was on the inside of her thighs, just above the knee. The other was just above the bottom rib. The right kind of squeeze brought howls of uncontrolled laughter and involuntary loss of muscle control. I never took advantage to tease her after I found them accidently. I made an exception and went for both at once. She shrieked with laughter as she uncrossed her arms to defend herself. When she did, I pulled her tight and kissed her.