Gael's Gifts
As soon as Gael was gone, Jack jumped out of bed, shaved fast enough to leave a nick with a straight razor, cleaned up as quickly as he could. He made the bed, retrieved his checkbook from the desk, with his hat on his still damp hair, he strode forward into the world. He had an appointment with a man.
The cab he’d arranged was waiting for him and the driver jumped down and opened the door for him as he exited the boarding house. Dignified, confident of his place in the world, Dr. Walker stepped up into the cab. Gael loved horseless carriages, but Jack did not think there would ever be a time when he could not get a proper cab. How would you know how far you’d gone without the beat of horse hooves against the road, or how could one live without the privacy of a cab that was not shared with the driver? Automobiles were never going to become a very popular thing, disgustingly loud and exposed, as they were.
It was not a very long trip to the bank and the closer they got, the more nervous Jack got. His own father was not going to approve of this. Every strike of hoove against the road made him wonder if Gael were going to be happy or distressed over this. It was something he wanted to do with all his heart though. Gael would understand his intent.
Somehow he’d missed when the cab had stopped. “Sir?”
“Oh yes, sorry,” Jack said, fishing out the coins he’d planned as a tip. “You will remember to collect me at five o’clock, at the hospital, as we arranged.”
“Of course, sir,” the man said as he pocketed the coin. “Will there be anything else, Sir?”
“No, thank you very much, Henry.”
Jack strode up the stairs into the bank feeling as if he were becoming the head of the household that he’d always imagined he would be. Soon he’d be growing out his sideburns, have his own practice. Dr. Jack Walker had a lovely ring to it, though the only thing it missed to make the world perfect was a way to add Gael as his spouse. Gael could never be a Mrs. Walker, would never wear his last name, even if there was almost nothing else Jack could want more than telling the entire world about their love. It was always best to treasure what one does have, not what one can not have.
He felt even more energy in his step as he entered the bank. He was a man of his own and he could do this for Gael.
It wasn’t that his shoulder blades exactly tingled, but he felt it, even if that weren’t quite the right description. Not five steps into the marble and brass domain of the bank, two men in black suits flanked him. Very briefly, he considered that the bank might be about to be robbed. Irritated by his own fear, he stopped and spun on his heel to confront them.
A bit too broad of shoulder to be businessmen and too orchestrated and military in their movements to be common criminals, Jack felt like his mind had turned into a gear works novelty as he tried to work it out. He took a step backwards, heart starting to speed up.
One of them stepped forward, a hand out to calm him. “Dr. Walker, if you would please accompany us, without a scene, I assure you no harm will come to you.”
“No, I don’t think I will,” Jack said firmly.
“Of course you will,” the black suited serpent said. Just like that, they closed on him, one on each elbow. Together they nearly lifted him off his feet, but not quite as they moved him towards the bank offices. “Don’t make a scene, Dr. Walker. A scene would not be good for your reputation, or Gael’s, now would it?”
In a hush, Jack growled, “I will not stand for this!”
Before he could say much more, he was seated in the bank president’s office, the two men standing behind him, like royal guards, or executioners. Alfred sat on the corner of the bank’s president’s desk, a tumbler of what was probably alcohol in his hand and a smug sneer on his face. The bank president sat in his chair behind the desk, looking over paperwork as if organized crime had not taken root in his very office.
“I will not have this!” Jack said, voice just above a normal conversational tone. As he started to rise, he found a hand on each shoulder, sitting him back down.
“You’re made of such fire and steel,” Alfred purred, “I can totally see what Gael sees in you. However, sometimes I still regret not drowning the pair of you that night.”
Jack swallowed, color draining from his face. “What do you want?”
“I want Gael’s ass back in my bed, but I’m not getting that, am I?”
That was the standoff. Jack would never give ground and Alfred loved Gael too much to actually kill either of them.
“Be that as it may,” Alfred said, giving in, even a touch amused that the red headed hick wasn’t as afraid of him as he should be. “The house you picked is too small and tasteless.”
Jack’s mouth fell open, then snapped shut. “We’ll get better after we’ve grown our careers. How in Jesus’ good grace do you know anything about the house I’ve bought?”
Then it was Alfred’s turn to roll his eyes, try to wash his mouth out with a drink of his whiskey. “I own the bank, Dr. Walker. I have picked a more suitable house. Living in a mouse’s house will not present well for either of your careers. You are gentlemen in New York and you must live like it.”
Alfred grabbed a small stack of paper from the president’s desk, handed it over to Jack. “This will let you host proper parties, get clients that are not paupers.”
Jack looked at the photo of the house, at least twice the size of his parent’s house. The floor plan listed ten bedrooms, a servant’s quarters, a huge kitchen, a sitting room, library, a smoking room, five full bathrooms. On the next page, he looked at the price and went paler than he had been. “I can’t afford this, even if I wanted to. I’m quite happy working at the city hospital, thank you.”
“I hadn’t expected you could, Saint Walker.” With irritation, Alfred picked up the file for the three bedroom barely better than a bungalow that Jack had picked out. “I have arranged a ten year lease on the house, including paid servants. Consider it like a wedding present. You don’t have to stop treating beggars, but you don’t have to live like a pauper, even if you are one.. I have also added an automobile in the garage for Gael. I will not take no for an answer. Gael is very dear to me and I intend to see him well set into the world.”
“I,” Jack stared, setting the expensive house back on the desk, pushing it farther back with the tips of his fingers. “I respect your love and care for Galen, but with the utmost respect I must decline. We can make our own way in the world and we have nothing to be ashamed of.”
“My god, you’re magnificent. I don’t suppose you’d join me in my bed?”
Scandalized, Jack drew back, green eyes wide.
Alfred laughed softly, batting a hand at Jack. “Fine, fine. Money can’t buy everything, but let it buy what it can. This is a gift for both of you. If you accept this gift, I shall also donate a $1000 to your beggar hospital. I can’t possibly give Gael an auto and not give you something my dear.”
“Well, I,” Jack said, stunned by the proposed donation to the hospital. “Why are you doing all of this?”
“Come now,” Alfred said with his hand out to the president for the leasing papers. With those in hand, he looked through them to make sure they were right. “Doctor, love should not be so difficult to understand. I simply want to see my favorite boy safe and happy.”
The two black vipers in suits lifted his chair and set it close enough to the desk to sign the paperwork. The bank president even stood, and moved an ink pot and pen within reach. “There is nothing improper in this arrangement sir,” he said, “It’s been looked over by our legal staff as well. It is encumbered with no tax obligations or obligations of any kind. It is a very nice gift and I urge you to accept, Dr. Walker.”
Jack drew in such a sharp breath that his nose pinched in. He dipped the pen in the ink and signed. “I give thanks to My Lord Jesus for this gift. Thank you as well, Mr. Fairfax.”
“Well, of course you do. You can call me Alfred, even if I don’t get to bend you over my bed, dear,” Alfred took the blotter and dried Jack’s signature. He pulled two sets of keys from his vest pocket and held them out. “I expect an invitation to the first party, to all the parties.”
“I doubt there will be any parties, Alfred. Gael and I have a lot of work to do to ease the suffering in this world.”
Alfred pressed a finger to his eyebrow and made a face, “Droll. I shall be sure to invite you to mine, St. Walker. Perhaps I’ll have a party in your children’s ward this Christmas season. I think I’d make a splendid Santa, don’t you?”
“We will be happy to accept your gifts, but the children are very ill and will need their rest, you understand?”
“Oh, I understand perfectly.” The edge was back to Alfred, the king cobra over all the little garden snakes. “You need to understand that I will never be out of his life.”
“And to that, Alfred, I give you Romans 8:28. As you know, there is a party this evening with Gael’s family, to celebrate his birthday and his becoming a lawyer, which I do heartily thank you for. So I must get to our new house, thank you for that as well, so that I can make preparations to bring him home tonight. That said, I must take my leave, unless you have something else that is immediately pressing.”
“No, take your leave, Jack,” Alfred said Jack’s name in a way that was much more intimate than a friend would likely do.
Walking to the door with his head held high, he heard Alfred scream like a corned lion, “Well, someone get me a Bible!”
Jack smiled a cat-got-the-canary smile. He had a spring in his step as he went down the stairs and back out into the world. He would get some rose petals to put on the bed. It could be like a wedding night.