The First Thing Elias Asked Josie
Chapter 12 - The First Thing Elias Asked Josie
Dating Elias Ferraro was less glamorous than people imagined.
He hated restaurants where everyone knew him.
Delphine hated restaurants where nobody put prices on menus.
They compromised badly.
Small places.
Early dinners.
One expensive place per year, on the condition Delphine could complain about portion size.
Elias agreed.
Then regretted it.
Good.
Josie remained outside the relationship for months.
Delphine would not make a child participate because adults were excited.
Elias respected that.
When Delphine finally invited him to Sunday dinner at Odette’s, he arrived with nothing.
Odette looked disappointed.
“You rich and don’t know how to bring pie?”
Elias went back out.
Returned with pie.
Learning.
During dinner, Josie asked him a question in sign.
Delphine did not interpret.
Elias looked at her.
“Slow, please.”
Josie repeated.
He understood only two signs.
YOU.
MAMA.
Then one he did not know.
Josie sighed dramatically and fingerspelled.
MARRY?
Delphine nearly dropped her fork.
Odette laughed.
Elias did not.
He looked at Josie carefully.
Then signed badly:
ASK MAMA.
Good answer.
Delphine translated the rest.
Josie wanted to know whether Elias planned to marry her mother because television taught children adults who ate dinner together eventually married.
Elias said:
“No plan.”
Then:
“If I ever ask, your mother can say no.”
Josie considered.
Signed:
GOOD.
Then asked for pie.
Perfect.
Delphine and Elias did not marry that year.
Or the next.
The Gulf Maritime Debt Clinic expanded.
Delphine completed her paralegal certificate.
Then became claimant-services director.
She worked with shrimpers.
Warehouse workers.
Families dealing with liens they barely understood.
Not every lender was Hion Ridge.
Not every debt abusive.
She learned to separate unfairness from regret.
That skill mattered.
Elias completed supervised release.
He declined an offer to return as chief executive of Ferraro Logistics.
Instead, the company reorganized under an independent board.
Employee seat.
Compliance director.
No family majority.
Elias retained a minority economic interest.
No controlling vote for five years.
He accepted.
Not martyrdom.
Friction.
Otis finished his sentence.
He moved to Baton Rouge near his daughter.
He wrote Delphine once.
No apology request.
Only a copy of Aaron’s old night-shift schedule with Otis’s handwritten notation:
I should have stopped this.
Delphine filed it with the Hion Ridge archive.
Not in her personal drawer.
That mattered.
Ruthie retired from the estate.
Then unretired three months later because retirement bored her.
She returned part-time to supervise household operations under a professional manager.
“No Ferraro tells me what to do now,” she claimed.
Elias pointed out payroll technically did.
She ignored him.
Camille eventually reopened her gallery under a partnership with two younger curators.
No Hion Ridge money.
She sent Delphine an invitation.
Delphine did not attend.
No hostility.
No need.
Martin Vale served his sentence and entered supervised release.
Peter continued insurance investigation work after his deferred-prosecution period ended.
Father and son did not reconcile publicly.
Maybe privately.
Not Delphine’s story.
Then Josie turned ten.
Her cochlear implant remained part of her life.
So did sign language.
She used the processor at school some days.
Removed it during headaches or when she wanted quiet.
Her world did not become less deaf.
It became more flexible.
That mattered to Delphine.
At Josie’s birthday, Elias gave her a fountain pen.
Delphine stared.
“Really?”
“What?”
“A pen?”
“She likes drawing.”
Josie did.
The pen had no expensive brand visible.
Good.
She drew boats with it.
Then wrote ELIAS beneath a terrible sketch of him.
He framed it.
Of course.
Later that night, Delphine and Elias sat on Odette’s back steps.
Humidity thick.
Cicadas.
He said:
“I love you.”
No dramatic preface.
Delphine looked ahead.
“Okay.”
Elias almost laughed.
“That’s all?”
“I’m thinking.”
Fair.
Then:
“I love you too.”
He breathed.
But Delphine continued.
“I do not want your house.”
“Fine.”
“I do not want a trust.”
“Fine.”
“I do not want Josie written into anything without her own lawyer when she’s old enough.”
Elias looked at her.
“I didn’t ask you to marry me.”
“I’m preparing.”
He laughed.
Good.
Then became serious.
“If I ever do ask, you’ll have your own counsel before you answer anything involving money.”
“Before I answer the marriage?”
“No.”
He smiled.
“That part I hope you answer yourself.”
Months later, Elias did ask.
Not with a ring.
With a folder.
Delphine groaned.
“Absolutely not.”
“Open it.”
Inside:
A one-page letter.
No legal terms.
Delphine Aubrey,
Would you like to marry me?
Yes or no are both complete answers.
— Elias
She laughed until she cried.
Then said:
“Yes.”
Only after that did he show her the ring.
And only after that did Delphine say:
“Now bring me the prenup.”
Elias smiled.
“I already hired you a lawyer.”
Her face changed.
He corrected immediately.
“I have names. You choose.”
Better.
Much better.
May you like
The next chapter of their relationship would begin with lawyers, disclosures, and enough paper to make romance deeply unattractive.
Delphine had never felt safer.
