Chapter 6

Jonathan

When I wake up, she's gone. Her scent still lingers on my lips, and her taste still invades my mouth. I haven't been this happy in ... well, since Alice was born. After Alice was born, things between Michelle and I were never the same. She loved Alice, even as much as I loved Alice. But she told me long ago she didn't want children.

Michelle didn't take out her resentment on Alice though. She really was an amazing mother. No, she resented me for ever getting her pregnant. She resented me for begging her to keep the baby. So, I suppose it's been almost five years since I was this blissfully happy. And for the first time, my chest doesn't ache when I think of Michelle and Alice.

I sit up and move to put my boxers on, hoping to find Alexis in the bathroom or on the porch, but instead I find a note:

Oh fuck! Tonight is the card auction. Well, the first card auction. The company hosting all the auctions is doing them in a series, building up to the big auction—the complete 1933 set and several other rare cards—a month from now. They're doing three smaller auctions to get the word out. The appraiser estimates she'll make around one point seven to two and a half million dollars. To Alexis, that means never having to worry about money again.

To me—the real me—that's just a day's wages. It's almost one, so I shut off the alarm and jump into the shower. Better to be early than late.

But all I can think about is telling Alexis the truth. She needs to know. I'd do whatever she wants, except give her up. I'll give up everything, the houses, the cars, the money. I'll disown my own family. I'll do anything to stay in her life, to make her mine forever. If she wants to become my billionaire princess, I'll do that. If she wants to keep living in Moscow, Texas, I'll be the first billionaire to move to a town with less than two-hundred residents.

Alexis

I'm so nervous, anxious, excited, and a billion other emotions right now. I'm wearing a little black dress that Cat and I bought just a few days ago for this occasion, and John is looking delicious in the suit he bought. I think off-the-rack suits are just tailored for guys who look like John. He pulled on the jacket and it was like it was made for him.

I know he's got some silly secret that he's worried about telling me—something about his past. But it can't be all that important. Even just a few minutes ago, he tried to tell me again, but my mind is just on tonight's auction, so I brushed him off.

"Alexis, I really do need to tell you."

"Please. Just wait until later tonight. I know you think it's important, John. But you keep saying, it doesn't change how you feel about me, you're not in danger and haven't committed any crimes. You're not gay, you're not dying, and you love me? Right?"

He nods, acquiescing.

"You're not a glittering vampire pirate from Neptune?"

He laughs, and I'm glad he's lightening up. I want to know, I want to know everything about him. I love him. But I really just want to concentrate on this evening and enjoy it.

"I know you think this thing you want to tell me is important, and I can tell you're worried about how it will change things—but, I can't imagine it will change how I feel about you. You said it was a lie simply because you never told me, but that you'd never lied to any questions I'd ever asked—right?"

He nods.

"Then you didn't lie. You just held back some of the truth. Everyone does that."

He frowns out at the road ahead—he doesn't look convinced.

"I'll prove it," I say. "Until about four hours ago, did you think I was a virgin?"

John scoffs, "No. You held that one pretty close to the vest."

"Did it change how you felt about me?"

He shook his head, "No, it changed my approach to this morning though."

I grin, "Really? How?"

He glances at me and grins back, "Miss Rutherford, when you showed and attempted to ravish me—"

"Excuse me!?" I gasp.

"Sorry. Would rape be a better word?" he laughs.

"I did not try to ravish or rape you!" I cry.

He shakes his head, "You definitely weren't taking no for an answer."

I bite my lip and stay silent for a moment, then say, "I plead the fifth."

He laughs, "But when you showed up and were ... quite vigorous, and then revealed your lack of sexual ... experience, I definitely slowed down."

I lean over the console and peck his cheek, "And I'm glad."

"But you see, it changes things. New truths change things, and I'm worried about how my past is going to affect us."

I take his right hand in mine, and bring it to my lips, softly kissing his palm, then say, "John James, I love you. That won't change. I might get mad at you, I might be sad, I might get frustrated, who knows. But it won't make me stop loving you."

"I love you, Alexis Rutherford," he says.

The rest of the drive is peaceful and easy, exactly how I want it to be, and John is so accommodating by waiting to tell me his big news about his past. I am a bit worried about it, but I don't want to let him in on my worries. I'm more worried about tonight's auction. I'm worried that no one will show, that I won't get as much money as everyone is estimating, I'm worried this may mean my dreams for the house might be crushed and I'll have to go back to the original ideas.

There's nothing wrong with what I originally planned, but my hopes are up, and I'm afraid they're going to be dashed. I'm afraid no one is going to come to this auction. But when we pull into the parking lot, my fears are assuaged—John would have had a tough time finding a parking spot if we didn't have a reserved spot.

Cat is waiting outside the door with her date, a tall handsome fellow a few years older than her—a new associate at some Houston Law firm that Cat is interested in. Typical Cat, she finds a guy she can date that not only might be her type, but can also help her career goals.

Inside, Mr. Crawley finds us.

"Miss Rutherford! I thought you weren't coming there for a few minutes. I'm glad you made it. The auction is about ten minutes away, and I'd like to bring you up to the podium before we get started. Would that be alright?"

I nod, nervously.

"And then, I'll lead you down and introduce you to some of the important collectors that are here. For many collectors, whether it's baseball cards, stamps, lunchboxes, or priceless art, the stories behind the pieces are just as important as the pieces themselves. You told me about your grandfather, and if I may, you should tell that story when I introduce you at the podium.

"It could mean thousands of dollars more that they are willing to spend tonight. People like a bit of drama, and that story is packed with it. For a collector, who might display one or more of these cards in their home or office, they like being able to tell that story to someone who looks at the card. Sure, they could make up a story, but a genuine story with genuine feelings behind it is far more valuable and true."

I nod, "Uh ... sure."

"Okay, so I'll take you up there, introduce you with some background on how you found the cards, and then you can take over from there telling about your grandfather and baseball, and the war and such. Then I'll introduce you to some of the more important buyers. Then we'll get this show on the road. Okay?"

I nod, and try to force a smile. John is there, and he seems to sense my discomfort—he squeezes my hand reassuringly.

I leave John at the back of the room with Cat and her date, and Mr. Crawley guides me to the podium. When I turn around and look out over the audience, I see him almost immediately, letting out a small gasp.

My eyes flick back and forth between John's face and his—it's obvious they're related. I wonder if this is his brother that he's told me about ... uh ... Tim. Why didn't he tell me his brother was going to be here tonight? Was that the important news he wanted to tell me? Before I know it, Mr. Crawley is finished and gesturing to me. Everyone in the room is politely cheering.

On slightly unsteady legs, surprised, I step up to the podium, "Uh ... thank you. Thank you all for coming tonight, and hopefully you'll come in the following weeks to our follow-up auctions leading up to the big one next month. Even if you don't think you can afford one of the big auctions, everyone is telling me it will be worth attending, just for the fun."

I took a deep breath and continued, "I'll probably end up telling this story at all of these auctions, but it started when my boyfriend was doing renovations at my grandparents old house at Lake Livingston. He tore down a wall, and found out they'd boarded over an old storage closet without emptying it. We found an old steamer trunk with my grandmother's wedding dress, some old family photo albums, some boxes of old vinyl records, a rocking chair, and forty-five cigar boxes full of old baseball cards.

"Honestly, if it hadn't been for John, I would have probably just thrown the old baseball cards out. I think at the time, I actually did wonder if the records were worth something. Out of curiosity, I checked—and they aren't."

Everyone chuckled.

"Of course, John asked me about how my grandfather felt about baseball, and it triggered an old memory, something I'd long ago forgotten. My grandmother once told me a story about how they'd driven through the night so he could try out for the St. Louis Cardinals. My grandfather was Michael Rutherford, centerfielder for the Springfield Cardinals in 1941—thank god for the internet!"

More chuckles.

"But, of course, in December of '41, everything changed. My grandfather traded one uniform for another, and ended up storming a beach at Normandy. As far as I know, he never played baseball again, unless you count teaching me how to throw and catch. He never went to the majors or met his heroes. He did earn a silver star and a purple heart. I don't ever remember my grandfather talking about baseball, but I do know he was so proud of his days in the Army. He was proud of our country's part in World War II.