A Tale About Love 1 — A Felicitous Encounter - Cover

A Tale About Love 1 — A Felicitous Encounter

Copyright© 2024 by Buzios

Chapter 19: The Death of a Father

Romance Sex Story: Chapter 19: The Death of a Father - A young German workaholic businessman meets a young girl on a party in Sydney, and with the help of a bottle of Grange Hermitage, a Porsche Carrera, and Joan Sutherland singing Casta Diva, they fall in love. There will be problems - her mother is a successful businesswoman, with whom he tries to close a big contract, but she does not like him at all in the beginning. At the end, however, they realize their love.

Caution: This Romance Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Consensual   Romantic   Heterosexual   Fiction   Humor   First   Oral Sex   Petting   Slow  

Maureen called me at night and said that she had told her mom everything. Eileen also wanted to talk to me and was grateful for the care I had shown her daughter.

“James, I’ve been to that restaurant before and the prices there, especially for the wines, are pure robbery. Send me the bill and I can book it as a business expense. I was proud of you, however, when she told me how you took that sommelier down - he is a very snobbish man and believes that he is better than his clients!”

I wondered how competent her tax people were; the bills she had declared business expense were a bit dubious, to say the least - but that was her problem. I told Eileen what I had said to the maître d’, and she applauded.

“Right on, mate, as we Australians say!”

The next morning, I had an early meeting and then Peter appeared in my office.

“James, I’d like to kill you, slowly and with great pleasure. Perhaps start with a small fire under your feet, then a Chinese Water Drop torture, and then squeeze your balls with tiny pins. A few wooden splinters under your nails? How could you do this to me? You should’ve warned me about Maureen! Little mouse, indeed! I never before felt so much like a gigantic fool in my life, and much as I liked her company, every time I looked at her, I saw the ‘Squeak, squeak’ in her eyes. She enjoyed it, I felt humiliated. At least you had to pay for the fun! According to the tip you made me pay it was not a tidy sum! Serves you right!”

I asked him whether he liked the discussions about wine matching and suddenly he smiled.

“That was great, and I’m still surprised by the knowledge that Maureen has, but again - why did you have to be so rational? You pulled the carpet under our feet when you asked who would drink all that. And did you see the face of the sommelier? He must hate you, too! All those wonderful, but terribly overpriced wines! Imagine his commission that went suddenly awry! But I’ve to admit that the wines he selected by the glass were good, too.”

He calmed down and we talked about business. He had started to be more pro-active, and some of his comments were quite valid and helpful.

On Tuesday I was contacted by the supervisor in the nursing home that cared for my father. His health had suddenly deteriorated, and he wanted to know what he should do. I asked him how serious it was, and he said that the nursing home medical staff concluded that he had no more than a few days.

I went immediately to Frank and asked for a week off - I needed to get to Germany immediately and see what had happened, and eventually take whatever steps necessary. He agreed but asked how the NT Project was going forward. I told him that Peter had been involved all the way and that I had talked to him already; he was ready to step in for the week I had to leave. The weekly meeting was in Sydney this time and perhaps he could participate.

I saw his eyes showing a lot of eager interest when he asked who would participate from NT. When I told him that the CEO, the Financial and the Marketing Director plus some analysts would be here on Friday, a smile started to appear, and he said that I could go and look after my father - he would take care of the meeting.

I called Maureen about my father and that I had to go immediately to Germany. Without hesitating, she said that she would come with me. I asked about her studies and was told that she had three days off plus the weekend; there were tests, however, on Monday afternoon she could not miss. If we could fly to Germany tonight and she could come back on Sunday, the trip was possible.

“James, didn’t you tell me that you would always stay at my side whatever happened? This counts for me, too. I’m your other half and you don’t have to endure this on your own. And I meant it when I said that I wanted your father’s blessing for our marriage; this is important to me, and it should be important for you.”

She had checked the connections already - she would meet me at six thirty tonight at the airport and we would take the night flight to Frankfurt with a connection to München almost immediately after our arrival.

“It will be a long flight, so take Business class. This is the only flight that stops in Sydney so that we can stay together. I’ve also made a reservation in your name so that we can sit together. All you have to do is to pick up your ticket and pay it. You’ll have to arrange a hotel and rent a car at our arrival, and then we’ll see how things will go. I’ve booked a return flight on Friday night that goes to Brisbane without stopping in Sydney and I shall fly first class, since this gives me the chance to sleep and to study. You’ll have to come back on your own, depending on how the illness of your father develops.”

All I could say was, “Yes, ma’am” and to tell her to pack warm clothes as it was Spring in Germany, and it could be much colder than in Brisbane. It did not take me long to settle whatever urgent business there was at the office; Maureen had also called Mary Ann and she had already reserved a hotel close to the nursing home and a car would be waiting for us at the airport. The two worked well together!

Then I went home, packed my bags, and went to the airport.

When they called for boarding, I looked for Maureen, but remembered that transit passengers would board first. I was led to Business Class and there she was, looking for me to appear in the aisle. She was beautiful as always, dressed in comfortable dark brown slacks and a blue cashmere pullover. I suddenly realized that this was the pullover I had loaned her and that she had never given back. Her smile exploded when she saw me, jumped up and embraced me, “James, I’ve not seen you since the last weekend. This is too long by far! Kiss me please!”

Which I did with enthusiasm.

A light cough behind us reminded me that we were standing in the aisle stopping the way for other passengers. I turned around, released Maureen and said, “Please excuse me, Ma’am. This is my fiancée and I have not seen her for two days and 3 hours.”

The lady smiled and offered to wait for us to finish the show, but Maureen, blushing fiercely, slipped into her seat beside the window; my seat was at her side on the aisle. She grasped my hand and asked whether I had any news about my father. All I had heard that it was serious and that there was no way to tell what would happen over the next 48 hours.

Even with my father’s illness apparently ending, I was happy having Maureen at my side. Her contagious smile lifted some of the load of my shoulders - could I have done more for my father? Did I show the respect he deserved even when we were estranged?

After liftoff and the obligatory champagne, she told me what she had done yesterday and today, after all, she had left Sydney on Sunday night, and how she had managed to take her studies and tests with her. The test on Monday was very important; if at all possible, she wanted to take it, but if I needed her, she would repeat it in six months’ time. Then she smiled wickedly and asked whether I had seen Peter. I gave her a detailed word by word account and she laughed when I said that Peter saw in her eyes the ‘Squeak! Squeak!’ whenever she looked at him, but he enjoyed the evening and he wished us a wonderful life together.

She asked me about my father; after all, she did not want to meet him unprepared. I told her some more about our family (but not everything; there was a huge surprise for her coming up), how it went back centuries in Germany, that my father was the last representative of a long tradition of service to the fatherland, and when I had decided that I would not become an officer, he was deeply injured and practically did not speak to me again for a long time. In his opinion, my family had always served with honor and courage as our family motto is ‘Honor et fortitude’, and he did not understand that I preferred business, not the Amy. He respected courage above all other attitudes - once he reminded me that Churchill had claimed that of all human qualities, courage was the most esteemed, because it guaranteed all others. This belief had orientated all his life: he had been a Colonel in the German Army, his father a General in the Prussian Army, and his son wanted to be a businessman? He could not understand this, and our relationship was always strained after my decision.

Unfortunately, my mother had died when I was still young, and that was another point he blamed me for. So, my education had been firm and correct, but without any sentimentality or kindness. I survived and the strength I had when I was at the University and after graduation led me to do what I wanted, not what my father expected.

He was a good man, but a difficult one. During the last years he had become more flexible, and we had now a better relationship, each one accepting the position of the other.

“This is a sad story, my love. I hope that you’ll make up now that he is so ill. Please promise me that you’ll try.”

Have I said already that she is a wonderful woman?

The decent food was accompanied by excellent Australian wines, and after conversing more, she suddenly closed her eyes and went to sleep. I followed her and even when we stayed at the Dubai Airport for the stopover, she was leaning on my shoulder and continued to sleep. Arriving in Frankfurt we ran to the other boarding gate for the connection to München and just made it. It was a late afternoon when we arrived, and a Baby Mercedes was waiting for us. We dropped the baggage at the hotel and went to the nursing home to inquire about my father.

It was sunny, but cold - the temperature seemed to be in the low fifties. Maureen was shivering as she was accustomed to more amenable temperatures.

When we arrived at the hospital, the reception called my father’s doctor; the Nurse said that ‘Herr Oberst’ (one heard the capital letters in the name) was asleep and the doctor had no more hope for him. It would be just a few more days. When the doctor arrived, he was sad; there was no more possibility that he might survive the following days; it seemed that he had been waiting for me, and he was happy that I did make it in time.

He suggested going back to the hotel, shower, and change, eat something light and coming back. It was probable that ‘Herr Oberst’ would wake up later in the evening and we could see and eventually speak to him.

We did as advised, and when we came back, the doctor was waiting for us. He repeated the medical story and apologized that he could not do more. It seemed that my father had given up on life and suffering and wanted to rest. He left the room but came back immediately and said that my father was awake. He had told him that he had visitors from Australia - a sudden emotional shock might not be the best idea - and led us to his room.

I was distressed when I saw him lying in bed. I remembered him as a strong man, proud and inflexible. Before me was an old man, tired beyond description, and almost not able to open his eyes. I knelt beside his bed.

“Father, it is I, James, and I have brought my fiancée, Maureen, for you to see my future wife. Please wake up.”

He slowly opened his eyes and seemed to recognize me. “Is that you, James? Why are you here? To see your old father die?”

I took a deep breath and when I started to say something probably ill-advised, Maureen stepped forward, knelt beside me, and took his hands in hers.

“Mr. Winter, I’m Maureen Monahan, James’ bride and future wife. We’ve come from Australia to ask for your blessing for our marriage. I love him very much and want to care for him all my life as he will for me, and we want to have our children continuing the tradition of the Winter family. James has told me about you and how you cared for him when he was young and without his mother, and I do respect the responsibility you accepted. You made him a good man, respected in his profession, supported by his friends, and loved by me. Please accept our plea and give us your permission as the head of your family and your blessing as the father of my man.”

She kissed his hands and looked at him in the way that only a loving woman can do. Then she took my hand and laid it over my father’s hand and hers.

He gazed at us for a long time and then said slowly in his raspy voice and with interruptions to take another breath, “Maureen, I expected to die on my own, alone as I’ve been during all these years. James cared for me, and I did not need for anything, but he was there, and I was here. I know that it is mainly my fault, but still, I always missed him. Now he’s here and I’m certain that you brought him here, to say goodbye and perhaps even so that we forgive each other. So, thank you and yes, you have my permission and my blessings.”

He stopped to breathe - it was very difficult for him to speak.

̈”James, I realize that you found an astonishing woman and I hope that you realize this and care for her forever. During the last months I have been thinking about us - I over my inflexibility and insistence for you to do what I wanted, and over you with your determination to decide your own life. If your mother had been alive, we might have reconciled our wishes, but at the end, we did what we had to do. I’m happy that you are respected and supported by your friends, and loved by this wonderful woman - so can I apologize for all the wrong turns I insisted on, and can we be at least friends?”

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