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“I’d take good care of her, sir. She’d be everything to me, and I’d treat her thus. I know I can’t provide what you have here, but I have a house and, as you know, a good job. She’ll not want for anything.”
He turned slowly to look at me. “I’ve no doubt of any of those things. You’re a fine young man. But there’s something even more important when it comes to Cymbeline. She’s my special one, you know. The one most like me. All that curiosity and need for adventure comes from me. I gave up my whole way of life in England just so I could see America and become the maker of my own destiny. I traveled for years until I found this small part of the world. I fell in love immediately and knew this would be my home. She’s like that too. There’s an itch to her. A desire to see what’s around the next corner.”
What did he mean? Was he implying that Cymbeline would be bored with a small-town banker? “Do you think she’ll be unhappy if she stays here with me? She told me you suggested university for her. Is that what you want?”
“Oh, goodness, no.” He patted my knee. “She belongs with you. You’re the only man I know who wouldn’t want to break her—take all the Cymbeline out of her. I was simply telling you how precious she is to me, how much I understand her heart. I’m grateful. For the way you look at her. The way you see her. How gentle and understanding and good you are. I couldn’t ask for anything more for her than you.”
I breathed a sigh of relief. “All I want is to see her shine. I don’t need anything but that.”
“You have my blessing. Always have and always will.” He smiled and raised his glass. “Welcome to my family, son.”
I almost cried from relief and pure joy but kept myself from doing so by clinking his glass and taking a swig of the whiskey. Then I coughed.
