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"I love older men because they treat me right not like those filthy boys." ~Unknown
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1 August 1967
Dover, Massachusetts
Grace stood over her bundle of plants. Swaying her hips back and forth to the tune of "Don't Let Me Down" by The Beatles on an old turntable. She loved this time of night when everything was still and peaceful. It was pitch black outside her window but the endless sound of traffic beating against the road had ceased and everything fell so quiet. The white lilies fell upon her hands, cloaking her pinkish skin in a shade of blanc. It was good for her mind of course, lately, it has been running a mile a minute with no amount of sleep could help. She closed her eyes and enjoyed the sound of John Lennon infiltrating Tuesday night's withdrawals.
Her father's door to his study remained closed for hours until the sun had set. But he was not alone, she watched as he locked himself inside with Morgan Rockefeller and had nothing short of idle whispers to come from the room. Grace hummed to herself, her heart leaping at the sight of her flowers doing so well. They were planted in the winter which raised doubts on their fruition. But each managed to be speckled in white shade just begging to be plucked. Her hands found the knob to the radio, turning up the volume by a hair just as Lennon was beginning to sing "I'm in love for the first time, don't you know it's gonna last."
She hummed along, picking her flowers from the root so that she could place them in a vase filled with water.
"Fine agreement. I will hear from you two weeks from now, you should have everything settled by then I hope?" A fine deep voice came from across the hall, his owner identified no doubt belonging to an older man.
"Of course sir." Grace opened her door at the familiar sound of her father's quiet voice, intrigued by the hint of pleasure that oozed from his words. She watched curiously as the two men shook hands in the living room after emerging from the study after two hours of debate. An aging man with grey specks in his hair offered her father a cold stare although his lips turned into a slight smirk. He stood over my father although a few years older than him. When her black kitten, Mochi ran up to her legs. Her guise was discovered, and her short frame leaning down to pick up the creature was not overlooked by both men. Rockefeller simply gave her a critical once over before turning to leave out of the front door, not wanting to stay longer than he needed to. "Daddy?" She hesitated before stalking closer to where her father stood by his office door, back leaning against the wall as a look of dishevelment soon followed after Vanderbilt's departure. It was like a switch was turned that made Mr. Croft lose his aura of professionalism and turn him into a deadbeat.
George ran a hand down his long face, his throat constricting slightly in his chest at the current turn of events that led him to consider a deal from Mr. Vanderbilt. He dreaded the moment when he would have to have to speak with Grace but it was unavoidable. "Grace, come here my dear." He waited until he heard the sounds of her soft slippers beating against the ground. The sweet white kitten matched its owner, nothing was quite different between the two and both were equally as docile. "I need to speak with you in my office." George opens his study once again, ushering his daughter inside and making her sit down across from his desk. When the lock clicked behind him, Grace heard a perpetual sigh escape his lips. Her father was worn down and tired from whatever had occurred from his previous meeting, she wanted to comfort him in some way but thought better of it. George settled between his cushioned chair, the stacks of papers on his desk were high but not so where he could hide his face from the wide-eyed stare of his daughter. "Grace I have to speak with you about something very important." He cleared his throat and nervously slid a bit forward in his chair to emphasize the seriousness of this situation.
Grace's fingers ceased their toying with the white fur, her attention now focused on her father. "What's wrong?" It was rare to see him so bothered and burdened. George Croft was usually a man of high morals and intimidation although not on the levels she had seen with other high-ranking men. He was a successful lawyer, the most sought-after defense attorney in the country but tonight felt as though he could no longer hold his own. "Grace, I have lost one of my cases. The property disagreement between the CEO and a realtor." George sighed, his grip on the pen he was holding becoming tighter until he had placed it down on the tabletop, "It was one of my larger cases I had worked on for months, a good sum of money was invested into this and the CEO managed to gain ownership over the land. I will lose close to millions because of it." George's face twisted into an indescribable grey expression, immediately feeling guilt on what was soon to come.
He took a short breath before continuing, "And so I have met with Mr. Vanderbilt who has heard of my current predicament seeing as the case has been everywhere in the morning papers. He likes our family, background, we are relatively wealthy and have many connections to the Massachusetts judicial courts..."
"And he would like to help us?" Grace felt a lump in her throat at the sudden news. Her father had never lost a case before and if he did many things would be in jeopardy. Their livelihoods for one, but also a good fraction of their wealth would be taken from them, that was why he worked so hard on every case he was put on. George nods, preparing himself for his next words and steeling himself from any sort of disagreement that would likely come.
"He has, tremendously." The ticking of the grandfather clock in the corner could only be heard, starkly contrasting with the music from her stereo. "Morgan Vanderbilt has offered to return the money I had lost from the case in exchange for a marriage agreement between our families. He had told me that he was in search of a wife for his son, Vincent for some time now and-"
"M-marriage?" Grace stiffened. She had no warning to any of this and now saw that she had walked into a trap. She glanced down at her kitten and reluctantly set her down on the ground, her paws pattering out the door and leaving footprints in its wake.
"Yes." Her father nods, clearly uncomfortable at the idea of giving his child's hand in marriage for monetary purposes although there was a hint of eagerness in his tone at the idea of having one of the most influential and wealthiest families in the United States as his in-laws. "He would like you to marry his only son, Vincent as part of the agreement. I believe he is not much older than you, twenty-four or so, and a well-bred boy." George attempted a smile to ease his daughter's nerves that he knew was growing inside. She has been somewhat sheltered most of her life and thankfully failed to keep up with the latest exploits from the Vanderbilt family or the outside world for that matter. Morgan's son was an intelligent young man, a graduate of Oxford University who shared his father's ambition in the way of business management but knew him to be somewhat arrogant with his endless parties, drinking, and most likely having everything handed to him at an early age, fueling his insolent behavior. Had Grace ever picked up a newspaper or paid the slightest attention to anything other than Saturday night specials on the television he would not see the end of her tears.
He pulled out a document on the table and placed it in front of her. There were multiple pages, each containing long paragraphs of words that were too difficult for the girl to understand. George held up a pen to her expecting her signature on one of the blank dotted lines, the other presumably was reserved for Vincent's handwriting, "Should I not have time to think this over?" Grace looked at the pen in fear, hoping her father would understand how big of a decision this was and should not be something that should be easily given.
"No. I'm sorry Grace, but we need your signature by tonight. Mr. Vanderbilt intends to send a worker to retrieve the contract tomorrow morning where an answer will be given. Please, just think of our family and what is at stake here. We risk losing everything if you do not agree." His eyes softened, the guilt now eating him alive from the situation at hand but knew this agreement had to be finalized. He had spent most of his life in this profession, going through years of school and work experience only for it to be potentially cut down in a single day from a petty case. If the worst happens, he will find a loophole for divorce.
Grace looked down at her lap, her hands trembling in response to the tense atmosphere in the room. She always wanted to get married one day but not so soon, her father promised her a college education that she knew she would not receive now. Her idea of giving herself for the sake of love is gone and she would be expected to act in duty to salvage her father's mistakes.
With a heavy heart, she signs her name in cursive.
