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Rourke had forced himself in recent years to be less averse to using the telephone, both for professional reasons and also because it frequently was the only way to reach out to Connie once in a while.
She, however, seemed to live on the telephone. Even so, they had not always been in frequent touch by telephone, and so it was new for both to talk to each other almost every day. They had long been reasonably avid e-mailers, however, and those now also came with their usual welcome frequency. Rourke missed her awfully, but because of the frequent contact was more or less able not to obsess about it.
Rourke had written Susan, his ex-wife, before he departed on his last trip to Europe and Asia. His note was brief, but he tried to make it warm and friendly:
Arlington, VA
April 10
My dear Susan,
I am in haste, as I need to travel again tomorrow for a couple of weeks, but I did not want to leave town without telling you some important news: I am engaged to be married. I wanted you to hear this news from me first.
Her name is Constance Hamilton, she's almost 60, and was also previously married. She has a daughter and a son. I've been acquainted with her for about 15 years, but only close to her for about five years. She lives in Seattle.
We have not yet set a date, but it won't be immediate. Perhaps toward the end of the year.
I have told Moya and Aine. They are talking to me again of late, and this news did not end that, although with M. it was a close thing, I think. I have the impression, in any case, that you had something to do with their agreeing to talk to me again, and even to see me now and again. I'm deeply grateful for your help.
I hope you're happy, and busy, and healthy. I am more or less all of those things.
With deep affection,
Rourke
Rourke had asked Connie for the mailing address in Seattle of Thomas Morris, her son. Rourke procrastinated, and ran out of time to write before having to fly out to London, so he sketched out a letter on the airplane, and later wrote it by hand on the stationery of the Savoy Hotel, where he was staying for two nights.
The Strand, London
April 15
Mr. Thomas Morris
3456 Vancouver Street
Seattle, WA
USA
Thomas,
Good morning from central London! I am traveling on business for a few days, but I did not want to let more time go by before reaching out to you.
You doubtless have heard from Katie that your Mother and I plan to marry. I am deliriously crazy about her, and have wanted to propose for a long, long time. That opportunity arose last week, when we were both in Washington, D.C., at the same time. I am so very happy that she accepted my proposal! We have not yet set a date, but perhaps later this year, or early next.
You may not receive this news with utter joy, I guess. But I want your Mom to be happy, and I think that you do, too. So at least we have that much in common!
I would like to talk with you on the telephone, which is a bit unusual for me, who hates talking on the 'phone. I'll be back in Washington in about 20 days, and would welcome the chance to talk soon after that. Your Mother can provide my number, and my e-mail address if you prefer to write in that channel.
I hope that we talk soon, as we have much to discuss, and to meet in person when the time is right.
With every best wish,
Padraig Rourke
The letter was not 100 percent satisfactory, but it was the best that Rourke could do under the circumstances. He sealed the elegant Savoy mailing envelope, and took it to the front desk to be mailed via international air mail. Should take two or three days to get to him, Rourke thought. But will he open it?
******
More than a month passed before Rourke and Connie could be in the same place again. This time, they met in Seattle, which had some benefits: they could both meet with Katie, Connie's daughter, and Rourke could meet, after many sometimes testy exchanges in e-mail and on the telephone, with Thom, her son. Connie and Rourke had agreed that he should meet Thom alone the first time, then perhaps schedule a meal or something with both her children.
Another positive thing about being in Seattle was that Connie had spent a long time living in "The City of Flowers," sometimes archly nicknamed "Rain City." So she knew her way around. Rourke had only been there four times, all but once for business, and never got out of downtown hotels. So it was a good fit, despite the long wait.
"Could you see yourself living here?" Connie asked him as they shared a drink before lunch in their hotel bar.
"Let me just say what I told Katie, to apparent merriment: I could live in a tent in Death Valley, if it's with you." Connie laughed, and just avoided spilling her margarita.
"Jeez, Padraig," she said, "How is it that you always have the right answer?" She elbowed him gently in the ribs.
"But Constance, my precious flower, I mean it! If you want to live here, then I'll pack up my books and guitars and ship them out here. We'd need to find a good place to combine our households, I guess, or shed lots of stuff. That is zero fun, ma'am!" Rourke paused.
"On the other hand, the Washington, D.C., area has many charms, and we could find a place within shouting distance of an airport. I think it would be prudent for me to move out of the Gilded Palace of Sin in Rosslyn, and return it to the company's use. I mean, I've been very comfortable there, but I don't... uh, really see the two of us living there for the long term. Too much like this nice hotel, or something like that, I think. Wherever we live, I expect we'll be there for company events now and again, anyway. But now I'll always have great memories of the place, owing to a certain night in March this year..."
Connie looked at him with love in her brown eyes. "We wouldn't have to move, I mean... not necessarily, if you don't really want to."
"I just have the sense that we'd be happier with a place of our own, that we can decorate as we like, or not, and build a home from whatever house we find. I'll need to find someone to do the yardwork, something I don't relish having to take on again, but..."
"But you would move here?" she asked again.
"Yes, I would. I love adventure... and I can get used to the rain, I think. I imagine that I'll like it even better when you've shown me around a bit, eh?" Rourke sipped his Jameson and soda.
They paid the barman, then went into the dining room for lunch. They both ate light meals: salads with fish, fruit, and glasses of white wine. They continued a conversation they started in Washington about details, and made some decisions: they decided on a small wedding in Seattle, and a big reception with a wider group of friends and professional associates. They also planned to throw a party in Washington for a modest group of close friends and associates.
No decision on a venue for the honeymoon: Rourke wanted to go to Ireland, but Connie was looking at Portugal, or somewhere exotic like Bali. They agreed, more or less, on what kind of house to buy: older, good condition, lots of wood, fireplace, not too much lawn. But other details, such as financial matters, had to wait, as they finished lunch and had to move on to their rendezvous with Connie's children.
Connie had agreed with Katie, her daughter, that they should all meet at her apartment in the Lower Queen Anne part of the city. Rourke and Connie decided not to rent a car, so they had the hotel concierge organize a taxi to ride there.
Connie texted her daughter as they got out of the cab in front of her apartment building.
"She'll be right down," said Connie. "Sure you're ready for this, Padraig?"
"Yes, best foot forward, as Mary Poppins once said, I think," Rourke answered, laughing softly and trying to suppress the butterflies that had suddenly invaded his stomach.
Katie opened the front door to her apartment building, a modern, sleek, glass-enclosed tower of about eight stories. She was an attractive young woman, perhaps a bit taller than her Mom, with dark brown hair stylishly streaked with blonde highlights. Physically fit, he thought. She looked Rourke over carefully as he strode through the open door. He took three steps, then wheeled to face her.
Connie stopped, turned to her daughter, and said, "Katie, I'm going to break with etiquette and introduce my fiancé to you. Katie Morris, may I introduce Padraig Rourke? You've already spoken on the 'phone, yes?"
Katie stepped closer to Rourke, put her arms around him and gave him a warm, welcoming hug. "Welcome to Seattle, Rourke! I've been dying to meet you, and here we are at last!" She looked up at Rourke and smiled. Lots of her Mom in that smile, Rourke thought.
"Thank you deeply, O Katie!" Rourke replied. "I'm delighted to meet you, too! At last!"
Katie led them through the lobby, a space filled with stylish but uncomfortable-looking settees and chairs. A few lamps and small tables were set around them. No reception desk, and elevators in the rear of the lobby.
"I live on the fifth floor, Rourke," Katie allowed. "Good when the elevator is working, which is most of the time, not so good when it isn't. Especially going up!" She smiled again, and chuckled.
"Let's hope for continued good operation of the elevator, then, eh?" Rourke said. "I could probably do five flights of stairs, but I'd be grumpy and out of breath when we got there..."
Katie laughed aloud, but Connie elbowed him playfully in the arm and said, "Don't listen to him, Katie; he's in very good physical condition at the moment, the best I've ever seen him in! Five floors... piece of cake. Ten? Maybe not so much..." They all shared a laugh.
Katie bade them be seated, in a comfortable and well-worn sofa. She stood before them, hands on her hips.
"I am really jazzed to have you both here this afternoon, but what I didn't tell you is that I have a surprise for you." She called over her shoulder down the hallway to the bedroom. "Hey, Surprise? Come out, come out!" and she stood aside.
Down the hall and into the living room strode a tall young man with medium-long brown hair swept back from his face and over his ears. Connie leaped from her seat and cried, "Thom! Oh... dear God... Thom... you're here!" She rushed to him and enveloped him in the type of hug that only a mother can give.
Rourke rose, too, but decided to hang back until mother and son had enjoyed their moment. Soon, Connie broke her embrace and turned to Rourke.
"Padraig, I want to introduce you to my son, Thom Morris." She knew that Thom and Rourke had had several e-mail exchanges and a testy telephone call or two, but she didn't let on.
"Thom, I am delighted to meet you at last!" Rourke told him with genuine enthusiasm. "This is absolutely the finest kind of surprise, you two," he went on, looking at both Katie and her brother. Then Rourke stepped up and offered a handshake to his son-in-law-to-be.
Connie's son took Rourke's hand and shook it firmly, beaming a warm smile.
"This is a great day, Rourke, and I'm sorry for all those... um... ill-tempered things I said and wrote to you over many weeks. Welcome to Seattle, and to our family!"
"Finest kind, Thom," Rourke replied. 'A star shines on the hour of our meeting -- elen sila lumenn' omentielvo,' to quote what J.R.R. Tolkien's elves said to Frodo Baggins early on his journey. And I accept your apology, of course."
Rourke had no idea what caused Thom's sudden change of heart, but thought that Connie might have had something to do with it. Mothers are like that, he mused. In any case, Rourke was relieved, and vowed to enjoy his newly-favorable status in the eyes of Thom Morris.
The four of them talked over a glass of wine for almost two hours, then walked down the street to a nearby Thai bistro for dinner. They continued their conversation: family history, current employment, current romantic interests, music, and sports, among other topics. Katie and Thom probed for thoughts about a wedding locale, and dates.
Connie and Rourke announced that they had agreed to marry in Seattle, and split their time after that between the Emerald City and Washington, D.C., at least for the present. The four arrived together at a decision on a wedding date the following spring, and a venue for the ceremony and reception.
END OF EPISODE 10 - New Episode Next Friday
A pleasant enough rendering of middle-aged romance - and not without insights - but for me true-love stories have obstacles to overcome. I first thought Louis might be one, then I thought Thom might be one; hasn't turned out that way. This story needs more conflict to overcome the specter of bourgeois complacency. Darkness on the horizon, in other words.