Ransom

Ted continued to visit Sam well into September, to gather evidence and testimony, and by October he had finished. He didn't call them after that, and Fernanda thought of him often, and meant to call him. She was showing the house, trying to find a smaller one, and looking for a job. She was nearly out of money, and trying not to panic. But late at night, she often did, and Will saw it. He offered to get a job after school, to try and help her. She was worrying about college for him. Fortunately, he had good grades and qualified for the University of California system, although she knew she'd still have to scare up enough to pay for the dorm. It was hard to believe sometimes that Allan had had hundreds of millions of dollars, although not for very long. She had never been as broke as she was at that moment. And it scared her.

Jack took her to lunch one day, and tried to talk to her about it. He said he hadn't wanted to approach her too soon, or offend her right after Allan died, and then there was the kidnapping, and all of them had been so upset, understandably. But he said he had been thinking about it for months, and had made a decision. He paused, as though expecting a drumroll, and Fernanda never saw it coming.

“What kind of decision?” she said blindly.

“I think we ought to get married.” She stared at him across the lunch table, and for a minute she thought he was kidding, but saw he wasn't.

“You just decided that? Without asking me, or talking to me about it? What about what I think?”

“Fernanda, you're broke. You can't keep your kids in private schools. Will is going to college in the fall. And you have no marketable job skills,” he said matter-of-factly.

“Are you offering to hire me, or marry me?” she asked, suddenly angry. He wanted to dispose of her life, without having consulted her. And most important, he had never mentioned love. What he said sounded like a job offer, not a proposal of marriage, which offended Fernanda. There was something very condescending about the way he'd asked.

“Don't be ridiculous. Marry you, of course. And besides, the children know me,” Jack said irritably. It all made perfect sense to him and love was not important. He liked her. To him, that seemed enough.

“Yes”—she decided that his bluntness deserved her own—”but I don't love you.” In truth, his offer didn't flatter her, it hurt her feelings. She felt like a car he was buying, not like a woman he loved.

“We could learn to love each other,” he said stubbornly. She had always liked him, and she knew he was responsible and reliable, and a good person, but there was no magic between them. She knew that if she ever married again, she wanted magic, or at least love.

“I think it would be a sensible move for both of us. I've been widowed for a number of years, and Allan left you in a hell of a mess. Fernanda, I want to take care of you, and your children.” For a moment, he almost touched her heart, but not enough.

She sighed deeply as she looked at him, and he waited for the answer. He saw no reason to give her time to think about it. He had made a good offer, and he expected her to accept it, like a job, or a house.

“I'm sorry, Jack,” she said as gently as she could. “I can't do it.” She was beginning to understand why he had never remarried. If he made proposals like that, or saw marriage that pragmatically, he was better off with a dog.

“Why not?” He looked confused.

“I may be crazy, but if I ever get married again, I want to fall in love.”

“You're not a child anymore, and you have responsibilities to think of.” He was asking her to sell herself into slavery, so she could send Will to Harvard. She would rather have sent him to City College. She wasn't willing to sell her soul to a man she didn't love, even for her kids. “I think you should reconsider.”

“I think you're wonderful, and I don't deserve you,” she said, standing up, as she realized that years of friendship and his handling their affairs had just been flushed down the toilet.

“That may be true,” he said, yanking on the chain as hard as he could, as she heard a flushing sound in her head. “But I still want to marry you.”

“I don't,” she said, looking at him. She had never realized it before, but he was more insensitive and domineering than she'd realized over the years, and cared far more about what he felt than what she did, which was probably why he wasn't married. Having made his decision, he thought she should do as she was told, which was not how she wanted to spend the rest of her life. Doing as she was told by a man she didn't love. The way he had proposed seemed more of an insult than a compliment, and showed a lack of respect. “And by the way,” she said, looking over her shoulder at him, as she dropped her napkin on the chair, “you're fired, Jack.” And with that, she turned around and walked out.

Chapter 22