Monday morning — 10 A.M.
Jacob leaned forward to look at Jill. She was sitting against the back of the couch holding her cup of coffee. She hadn’t said much since coming to get him for his ten o’clock break. He wondered if she was irritated that he wasn’t sleeping as the doctor ordered. She didn’t look irritated. Mostly she looked lost in thought.
But how would he know if she looked irritated or not? To him, her every expression was beautiful.
“We weren’t always wealthy,” Jacob said.
“You asked me why I had so much money if I don’t care about it at all.” He paused. “Listen, I can imagine how strange it must be for you. Everything is different for you, for Katy and for me.”
“But not bad,” Jill said. “I’m not moving back to the apartment because I’m unhappy or anything’s bad. I just feel… I don’t know… like I should. I mean, you said it last night, we don’t really know each other.”
“I’d like you to stay,” he said. “Not as my nursemaid. I like your company. I like being in the same room with you, under the same roof. I think everyone does. How can I get to know you better if you’re somewhere else?”
Jill opened her mouth to respond then closed it.
“You started to tell me about making the money.”
“Right.” He noticed her diversion but didn’t want to fight it. “We lived in a little apartment until I was about five years old. Two bedrooms. Val and I shared a room. My parents worked. A lot. Val and I spent all our time either at school or with Delphie. I didn’t know we were poor. I guess we had each other.”
“What happened?” Jill asked.
“A bunch of stuff,” Jacob said. “In building DIA, priority bidding was given to women owned businesses. My mother owned a majority share of Lipson Construction because she put up the Marlowe mine as equity to start the company. Lipson got the work. They did such a good job at DIA that when they closed Lowry Air Force base, we got that work too. Then they closed the old airport… Just before she died, my Mom reformulated the company by creating the board of directors, and we got to work on the T-Rex project. By the time she died, the company was worth a lot of money.”
“But didn’t you live in a big house in Crestmoor before…”
“My Dad had an inheritance from his Dad and his brother. It was hung up in litigation… I don’t remember why. Something stupid. He got the money when I was four. He bought the house. He wanted the best for my Mom and he thought Crestmoor was the best. She hated that house, but never told him until last year of her life. That’s how they were — kind to a fault to each other. Always doing what they thought the other wanted regardless.”
The retelling of Celia’s Puppies, Denver Cereal Volume 2, continues tomorrow…
This work, unless otherwise expressly stated, is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License.