The Diary

By Harris Tobing

Harris Tobing delivers one of the most heartfelt love stories of the new century in his debut novel, ‘The Diary’. It is an old-fashioned love story that cultivates hope that when you find your soul mate, grab that moment, and don’t let go.

Gabriel truly loved only one woman in his life, and that was Maria. When her diary is entrusted to him alone, in front of her husband Henry, and daughter Olivia, during the reading of Maria’s last will, it launches an emotional journey in which Gabriel rediscovers their love and blossoming romance that had developed forty years earlier.

While Maria's death occurs at the beginning of the story, she is very much alive throughout the novel - taking us back and forth in time throughout their historic journey that spans decades and countries.

Ultimately, Gabriel shares prized snippets from the Diary with Henry and Olivia as they form a unique friendship, and gain new insights into the woman that each of them profoundly loved.

In the end, the Diary leaves a profound and lasting emotional impact on the lives of those who cared about Maria.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Sep 24, 2013
• ISBN: 9781483509587

Book preview

Gabriel.

1

ONE

Gabriel’s sedan pulled to a halt in his driveway. It had been a long, but rewarding day, caring for the elderly – volunteering. It was one of the things he did on a weekly basis. He did it to keep himself busy, active, and useful at the age of seventy-four; past the age of retirement. He took a deep breath, mainly to muster enough energy to get out of the car and enter the house.

Gabriel had been doing this for more than three years – this caring for the elderly – and he loved every minute of it. Every time he’s with them - for he knows – he is reminded that his time will come when he will also need special care. And what brings him about routinely were the stories that they tell, of how they lived full lives with passion, and with hunger - even in their ripe old ages.

Gabriel took his time, easing his thin, athletic, but fragile and aging body out of the car, as he stood, all five-foot, eleven-inches of him; straightening and stretching his legs and back after the long three-hour drive. He had selected Davidson Nursing Home near the Shenandoah Mountains because of its location - out and up in the hills, away from hectic traffic noise and the business of today’s overflowing suburbs, cities, and towns. With a light jacket and personal belongings in hand, he stepped up onto the porch and entered his cozy home.

The familiar smell of his house welcomed him, the smell of flowering plants that grew year round, and a hint of coffee from earlier that morning still lingered. But, an even warmer welcome came from his cat, Jack.

Jacko. How you doing buddy? he asked, as he took a moment to pat Jack with long strokes. The cat stood proudly on the edge of the chair by the door. You like that, don’t you? You miss me? Bet you do, and I bet you’re hungry. Jack responded by raising his rear-end to get the most of the rough strokes from Gabriel’s strong hands.

Jack was a quiet cat; seldom did a meow come out of him, but his loud, very loud purr made up for his overall silence. Gabriel and Jack had a simple agreement - feed me, and you can pat me. Simple, to the point, and very low maintenance, which most guys can appreciate.

Look what we’ve got here Jacko, mail! Just what we need - more bills, probably.

Jack had turned his back to Gabriel, curling up on top of his jacket that he had thrown onto the couch; and digging his claws into it, as his purr roared. Gabriel eyed him, but did not discipline Jack due to exhaustion.

Gabriel lived in an old house, built right after the war - with a wrap-around porch that he had added on years ago; the only one on the block. Inside – the room was bright from the sun’s glorious late afternoon rays shining through the front windows. Each room was simply decorated, and each served a specific need - functional, minimal, and clean. The uniqueness of this house was that it was simple, cozy, and simply – home.

Gabriel finally found himself behind his desk after a shower and dinner. He was sitting comfortably in his old, worn-leather office chair with his chocolate-raspberry flavored coffee on a ceramic coaster by his side. The medium-sized den was warmly lit with natural-dark tone furnishings throughout the room. Jack was stretched out by the floor vent near the window, and cleaning between his paws with his pink tongue.

Gabriel shuffled through the latest mail, piece-by-piece.

Junk. Junk. More junk. Bills. Another bill. Gabriel stopped when he came upon an unusual letter. What’s this?

On the top, left corner of the envelope, it read, ‘Estate & Funeral Coordination’. Gabriel opened the envelope with his father’s old, metal letter opener. He read:

Dear Mr. Gabriel P. Miles:

We are saddened to inform you that Mrs. Maria Grace Bancroft has recently passed away following a short battle with cancer.

According to her last wishes; you are requested to attend the reading of her will at an estate meeting on April 12, according to the laws of the State of Maryland.

We look forward to your attendance. Please receive our condolences on the loss of Mrs. Maria Grace Bancroft. She is greatly missed.

Sincerely,

Gabriel’s eyes welled up, holding back unexpected tears as his hand fell to the desk, while still holding the letter. He quickly reached for the phone and began to dial, but stopped - placing the phone back in its cradle. He broke into an emotional sob. This was one of the few times that Gabriel could remember of him breaking down into uncontrollably flowing sobs; and this was the most difficult news that he had faced in many years.

At the driveway entrance gate, a guard controlled the flow of attendees entering, checking off the names of those who were on the selected short list to be admitted onto the grand grounds of the Bancroft’s estate.

Good evening, sir, said the guard.

Evening, replied Gabriel.

Your name, sir?

Gabriel Miles.

Yes. Please - they’re expecting you. My condolences to you - Mr. Miles.

Thank you, and to you too.

Gabriel moved his sedan forward and passed through the tall, gothic-style iron gates that protected the estate. He drove up to the front, and parked along the edge of the asphalt driveway. He sat for a moment - pondering the significance of this event. He knew he didn’t belong here, but out of respect and love for Maria, he had placed himself in this awkward position. At the same time, he too needed closure, and for some reason, a feeling of nervousness haunted him, a feeling that he hadn’t felt since his first days with Maria, many, many young years ago.

As he stood by his vehicle looking at the estate, he took a few minutes to absorb the grandeur of this mansion. He had known that Maria and her husband were wealthy, but to that extent - had been outside his understanding or comprehension; and not until this very instant, had it finally hit him with a swooping awe.

The mansion - not your typical modern mansion - had a history. It had been built in the mid-nineteenth century and passed down from generation to generation, until the Great Depression of ’29. For several decades, the mansion had sat, unoccupied, deteriorating slowly. Stories of the house being haunted caused hushed gossip, and people stayed far away until the Bancroft’s purchased it. After extensive renovation work, the mansion came alive, and people started to come from every corner of the country – mainly because of the kindness of the Bancroft’s extensive charities, which helped many of the unfortunate.

From the outside, the mansion was covered in a light beige, brick colored finish and was wrapped with a stunning trim package that details the cornices, lavish windows, and the solid Brazilian-oak, multi-panel, tall doors.

Overlooking the property from the roofline were custom made, copper-finished bronze ‘eagle’ sculptures that had iodized over generations, and with wings spread – soaring against the bluest of skies.

Gabriel was escorted into the mansion from a main, side-door and directly into one of the grand rooms. It was filled with about two-dozen attendees; none of whom he had ever met. From his deductions, it seemed that each chair was accounted for and promised to each one of the guest in attendance. There were several representatives from the funeral company who stood in designated areas, dressed in black formal attire, attending to the needs of the guests. One of the representatives noticed Gabriel’s presence and approached him.

Mr. Gabriel Miles, I presume? she asked softly, and in a very polite manner.

Gabriel was shocked that this person knew his name. Yes, I am – how’d you know?

They’ve been expecting you. Please, follow me.

Gabriel followed the representative around the other attendees and along the front row where she paused in the middle of the row. He stood in the presence of an elderly gentleman, close to his own age. Mr. Miles, this is Mr. Henry Bancroft, the husband of the late Mrs. Maria Bancroft.

Mr. Bancroft, I am deeply sorry for the loss of Maria. My humble condolences to you and your family, Gabriel kindly said as he extended his hand.

Henry Bancroft welcomed the warm gesture and kind words, and took his hand in his; they shook hands. Thank you kindly, Mr. Miles, he said softly. Then he turned slightly towards his right and introduced a woman in her early thirty’s to Gabriel. This is our daughter, Olivia.

Gabriel turned to Olivia and simply said, My condolences Olivia, and then continued with a slight nod, I am sorry.

Thank you Mr. Miles.

Henry Bancroft’s presence was one of elegance and power. Dressed in the best of European attire, he sat with a straightness and formality – attentive, with a commanding demeanor, even in his advanced age. His white hair enriched his solid frame, and his eyes were piercing with strength and kindness. His voice was soft and sincere.

Gabriel turned and followed the representative as he was shown to his seat. The other attendees in the room watched with curiosity as Gabriel made his way to the last empty seat, at the end of the first row.

Before he sat, Gabriel politely and subtly nodded in respect to the few that had observed him, as was his gentle and kind manner, when their eyes met his; after all, he was a stranger at this formal estate meeting – as far as he knew.

Gabriel sat down and crossed one leg over the other and stared in the same direction everyone else did – straight ahead. What he discovered in front of him and throughout the room was a marvel of intricate craftsmanship and knick-knacks that filled glass-display cases. As his eyes wandered, he realized that the room held a collection of personal souvenirs from travels, items that ranged from cultural relics to books, photos, traditional statues, puppets, and more. The more he looked, the more intrigued he grew – the idea of how, when, and why these items were collected and saved. It was an awesome display of cultural diversity and a curious discovery of wonderment.

Before his mind could completely escape into a wonderland of imagination, Mr. George Konstanzi entered the room from a side-door. His entrance was one of grace and sternness, as he walked in front of the group of people and diligently placed several folders and other articles on the table in front of him. This got the attention of the attendees. He was dressed in an exquisite and pristine black suit, and his pressed shirt was tightly buttoned to the top - without a traditional tie or bowtie.

My name is George Konstanzi, he stated. I am representing the late Mrs. Maria Grace Bancroft in accordance with her last will and testament. Directly in front of me are her husband, Mr. Henry James Bancroft, and their daughter, Miss Olivia Isabella Bancroft.

They both nodded politely in response.

We will abide by the will as per Mrs. Maria Bancroft’s last request, and honor it with respect and in memory of the good person that she was known to be. Mr. Konstanzi took a moment and looked around the room and then said, I am told that all of you present are on the list, as requested by the deceased. Are there any questions at this time? He looked around again and then said, There are no questions, then we shall begin.

He sat down - properly, placing himself on a black, leather chair, behind an antique wooden, chestnut desk.

The room was quiet as they all sat in suspense. A few of the guests turned and looked around the room and at the others who were attending this gathering – curious, wondering who was who, and who would get what, and for what reason, but for the most part, most of them knew each other. However, not one of the other attendees knew who Gabriel was.

Gabriel sat patiently, waiting to see how this would play out, and wondered why he had been summoned to this meeting. Mr. Konstanzi looked up and exchanged a brief glance with Gabriel and others before resting his gaze to Mr. Bancroft.

With your permission Mr. Bancroft, shall we begin? asked Mr. Konstanzi out of respectful honor for the widower.

Mr. Bancroft agreed with a slight and simple gesture.

Very well. Mr. Konstanzi stood up and began. Good evening ladies and gentlemen. There are nine items in Mrs. Maria Bancroft’s will, and among us are seven families listed and specified by the deceased. Until this very moment, this list has not been disclosed to all those who are present today, including Mr. Bancroft. Mr. Konstanzi glanced around the room and at each member present. For the moment, there are two rules that must be followed, both requested by the deceased, and we will abide by them - all of us; with no exceptions. Mr. Konstanzi took a moment to reflect on the guests’ reactions within the room. For the most part, most of you are wondering about your own presence here or the presence of others, which we shall all discover shortly, and why each of us are honored to be here.

There was a palpable uneasiness in the room, after that had been said. Some guests shifted in their seats, others looked around curiously to see what others were thinking, while Gabriel, and both Mr. Bancroft and Olivia sat unmoving, except for a quick glance between Gabriel and Mr. Bancroft.

Rule number one, under all circumstances, there is no haggling; an important request by the deceased – no matter what you think or believe should or should not be yours; her request stands. Rule number two. All of you who are here were invited because you will honor rule number one, with dignity and respect – with honor to yourselves, with honor to the others who are present, and with honor to the late Mrs. Bancroft for her good will. Mr. Konstanzi took a moment to observe the room, looking into each attendee’s eyes. Am I clear, or are there any questions?

The room sat in silence.

By your silence, I take it that everyone is in agreement with both rules that have been mentioned, Mr. Konstanzi said sternly. Then, we shall begin with the first item on the list.

An assistant came out from the side-door carrying a silver decorated tray, and stood next to Mr. Konstanzi. Gabriel noticed that Mr. Bancroft had straightened up a bit, seeming slightly nervous.

Mrs. Rachel Sanchez, Mr. Konstanzi announced, you have worked for Mrs. Bancroft for more than twenty years, diligently and dutifully at the Bancroft Salon. Therefore, because of your hard work and dedication, she has named you as the rightful owner of the salon.

Rachel Sanchez trembled in disbelief. Her hands covered her gracefully aging face as tears rolled down. Her husband, Mr. Sanchez, comforted her. They were both from Argentina, in their late fifties. The assistant walked over with the tray. Rachel Sanchez’s hands were shaking as she reached for the small box. She opened it, and discovered a key with a gold tag that read, ‘Bancroft Salon’. The assistant then handed a folder to her husband; the folder contained details and rules of ownership.

Mrs. Sanchez, with your key is a folder that contains papers for you to sign that will declare you the owner of the ‘Bancroft Salon’ and some of the legalities that come with this responsibility. Congratulations to you, said Mr. Konstanzi.

Mr. Bancroft nodded in agreement with Mrs. Sanchez receiving ownership of the Salon.

Mr. Bob Washington?

Yes sir, present, said Mr. Washington nervously, standing out of respect for the occasion. He was African-American in his late forties, still athletic and strong, with a deep, booming voice.

Mr. Bob Washington, you have been an inspiration to the community with your involvement in the ‘Bancroft Youth Club’, mentoring, inspiring, and reaching out to the youth and the community at large. Therefore, because of your dedication and determination to improve the community – your community – Mrs. Bancroft has granted you ownership of the ‘Bancroft Youth Club’.

Mr. Washington clasped his hands together and lowered his head for a brief moment of prayer and silent gratitude, closing his eyes. His thick-rimmed eyeglasses hid his emotions. The assistant walked over and delivered a key with a gold tag that read, ‘Bancroft Youth Club’.

Mr. Washington, you have a folder that contains papers for you to sign that will declare you the owner of the youth club. Congratulations.

Again, Mr. Bancroft nodded his head in agreement with Mr. Washington’s award.

Mr. Samuel Dexter.

Samuel Dexter stood up in his best posture, as if he was on call. He was in his late sixties and it was difficult for him to stand up straight because of the kink in his knees from arthritis, but he did so out of respect for the late Mrs. Bancroft.

Mr. Konstanzi continues, Because of your endless sacrifices in serving Mrs. Bancroft for more than thirty-six years as her personal driver, she learned one thing from you; and she writes and I quote, ‘Samuel deserves more than words can mention. No gift will do justice to his kindness, dependability, or to his appreciation for simplicity and modesty. I know that he will take nothing that is of value from this Earth, because he is one that seeks the justice and rewards of paradise. But, for what it is worth, I beg for him to care for one last thing from what I did treasure – the S-Type, Jaguar. So, I humbly ask you, Samuel, to accept this one worldly gift that doesn’t equal your heavenly character. Thank you Samuel – for everything’. Mr. Konstanzi placed the letter in an envelope, and handed it to the assistant along with the key to the Jaguar.

Mr. Dexter, still standing, accepted the Jaguar key and a gold tag that read, ‘Mr. Samuel Dexter’. He held it tight, clasped between his hands, and nodded to Mr. Bancroft, Olivia, and Mr. Konstanzi with humble appreciation. He attempted to hold back his tears, but emotions overcame him, soaking his short-stubbed beard. Olivia got up and moved to where Mr. Dexter was standing, holding him in a long embrace of appreciation.

Thanks, Olivia said softly. She really loved you and learned from you – and I too. Thank you.

May God be with her, Mr. Dexter softly replied as he slowly sat down, with tears still in his eyes; helped by Olivia.

Chad Williams and his parents, David and Judy Williams, announced Mr. Konstanzi as he continued.

Mr. Bancroft turned, looked to his right and smiled. He found Chad, a young man of nineteen sitting in a wheel chair, flanked by his parents. Chad has muscular dystrophy.

Mr. Williams, for your inspiration and celebration of life, you and your parents have all inspired Mrs. Bancroft to look deep into her life, to evaluate the value of struggling, and the values of endurance and perseverance. And because of your enduring story, she wants to reward you with two gifts. The first are Frankie and Tinny, her two cats – whom Chad adores; and the second is a one-point, two-million dollar check to cover your future medical expenses.

Mrs. Williams could hardly believe what she had just heard, briefly frozen in shock at this unexpected news. She then broke down in tears, almost gasping for air. Chad looked at his mom’s reaction and smiled, and then with great effort struggled to raise his hand to give Mr. Bancroft the thumbs up sign. It was an amazing feat for him, and an emotional moment for all those present.

The assistant set down two large animal cages that held Frankie and Tinny in front of Chad, and then handed Mr. Williams an envelope. Mr. Williams carefully took it, unsure of its magnitude.

Mr. David Williams, that check is only meant for and dedicated to medical bills and needs for Chad. And you will be working with Mr. Bancroft’s personal accountant to ensure that all transactions are legitimate, continued Mr. Konstanzi.

Mr. Williams just sat there, awestruck.

Then, Mr. Bancroft unexpectedly stood up, strolled over to Mr. Williams and knelt down next to him, saying, as he pulled an envelope out of his breast pocket, This is an additional check for two hundred thousand dollars, donated by the Bancroft Foundation for you and Mrs. Williams to help with the needed renovations to your house to help Chad become more independent.

Tears flowed from Mr. William’s eyes; he was extremely touched by the incredible generosity of the Bancroft’s towards him and his family. He humbly stood up and gave Mr. Bancroft a hard hug, squeezing the air out of him, as tears still rolled down his cheeks. He finally released his squeeze on Mr. Bancroft. They both looked at Chad who now had both thumbs up, and a big smile on his face. Mrs. Williams was still in shock; and she was assisted by a representative who brought her a glass of water. After several minutes of the emotional joy, they all returned to their designated seats.

Mr. Konstanzi continued, The Bancroft’s were inspired by your story Chad, and your struggle to contribute to society, giving tirelessly to raise MD awareness among the higher society and your peers, and the like. You inspired Mrs. Bancroft, and she thanks you.

Chad acknowledged the words, and signaled with a slight smile and minute nod to Mr. Bancroft.

Mr. Konstanzi continued with presenting the other attendees with their gifts that were in accordance to Maria’s will, and all just as unique and grand. The rest of Mrs. Bancroft’s estate will be divided between Mr. Bancroft and their only daughter, Miss Olivia Bancroft. He turned directly to Olivia and read, Olivia, your mother loved you and she thanks you for being the daughter that you are. She writes, ‘Olivia, your value cannot be measured in dollars or material things, it’s your heart, and that’s what you are all about’. This is a direct quote from your mother, Mr. Konstanzi continued, and then said, She has a letter here for you, written prior to the time that the sickness overtook her.

Olivia held her father’s hands for emotional support.

Mr. Konstanzi continued, Therefore, the rest of the finances and estate will be divided between Mr. Henry Bancroft, who will receive half of the fortune, and Miss Olivia Bancroft who will receive a quarter of the fortune. The other quarter will continue to go towards existing charities for an agreed upon duration and in accordance with what is stipulated in her will.

Olivia and Mr. Bancroft hugged each other and were happy with the statements. Mr. Bancroft began to get up, but was stopped by Mr. Konstanzi’s soft, but stern voice. Please Mr. Bancroft; there is still one last article that needs to be distributed.

I’m sorry, I didn’t know. He sat back down. Please, continue; my apologies for my rudeness. He turned to the other attendees. To all of you, forgive me. Some responded with a hand wave, no one was offended and all waited patiently for Mr. Konstanzi to resume.

Mr. Konstanzi got up from his chair and moved around to the front of the table. He took a moment and looked around the room, finally resting his eyes on Gabriel. Mr. Bancroft followed Mr. Konstanzi’s look, as he also rested his eyes on Gabriel.

The last article that I have to distribute, I find is very difficult for me to do. But, I have to abide by the last will and testament of Mrs. Maria Bancroft. Truthfully, I don’t understand it – and I have no right to, but maybe we will be enlightened by it – shortly, said Mr. Konstanzi.

Every person in the room was now on the edge of their seat, curious, in suspenseful wonder. A murmur of whisperings began, as they all looked around to see who had not received anything yet; and their eyes all rested on Gabriel.

An assistant came out with an old, but preserved, leather-bound book. Mr. Konstanzi reached for it and held it in his hands, looking it over. This is a diary. And I’ve had this ‘Diary’ in my possession for some time, now. I’ve not opened it to see its contents or why this book might have a significant outcome. And, I too - am curious to find out. Mr. Konstanzi looked around the room as he held the Diary up for all to see. He continued, This is Mrs. Maria Bancroft’s Diary. Have any of you ever seen this Diary before or do you know of it?

There was no response. Everybody shook their head. Nobody could claim that they had seen it or knew of it. But, all were curious to see whom the Diary would go to.

Miss Olivia? Mr. Konstanzi asked. Olivia also shook her head, as her eyes were fixed onto the very sight of the Diary.

Mr. Bancroft?

Mr. Bancroft struggled to remember if he had ever seen the book – the Diary; pondering in deep thought, as he rubbed his chin and squinted his eyes. He too shook his head.

I was instructed to read the first written entry by Mrs. Bancroft before giving it to the inheritor. And I must say that I am bewildered by this request, and hopefully, tonight, there will be some clarification.

All the attendees, including Mr. Bancroft, began to whisper and looked around the room. Gabriel kept his gaze on Mr. Konstanzi, holding his tongue in silence. Mr. Konstanzi looked directly at Gabriel for a brief moment before Gabriel turned away, closing his eyes and waiting for the reading. Mr. Konstanzi quickly glanced at Mr. Bancroft, then opened the Diary to the first entry and began. It reads,

To my Love…

…I dedicated these words written throughout this closely protected diary as a personal journal and to the memory of a man whom I promised to love; who - after the Creator - led me to live a lively, and full, life. He brought breath into me, even when not in my presence, filling a lonely emptiness.

I breathe when he breathes, as he breathes when I breathe - ‘til this day…we are one. Even in our distance and years apart, I pray that I will always be his butterfly and a joy to him, who sculpted my heart with love, passion, reason, and wisdom of life.

To the gentleman that he is - whom I shall cherish and deeply love, and take to the depth of my final abode - secretly, admirably, and willingly. His love haunts me till this day… endlessly.

With passionate love xoxo,

Butterfly

The attendees were all frozen in silence; not a single person moved - mesmerized by the spoken words from the Diary. Words that were sewn together by a heart filled with love, hope, and emptiness. Tears escaped from a few, more so from Olivia and Mrs. Sanchez than the others, as they wiped tears from their cheeks.

Samuel Dexter whispered loudly to himself, Beautiful.

I didn’t know she could write like that, Olivia said as she turned to her dad and asked, Did you dad? Was that meant for you? Maybe a long time ago?

I never knew she had a Diary. I didn’t know any of this! he stammered.

Mr. Konstanzi walked around the room. All eyes were fixed on him; following him as his footsteps echoed across the room. I find these words to be extremely profound, in every dimension. He looked around, watching the reaction of the attendees in the room. The attendees too, were looking around in awe, as their eyes followed him.

I don’t believe that belonged to my mother, cried out Olivia.

This ‘Diary’ does belong to you mother - Mrs. Maria Grace Bancroft; there is no doubt, no doubt. And she has requested that it go to one person.

She’s my wife! It belongs to me! Mr. Bancroft exclaimed.

True, she is your wife, answered Mr. Konstanzi, as he stopped just short of where Gabriel sat. But, this book, this Diary, is dedicated to none other than Mr. Gabriel P. Miles.

I’m sorry? Gabriel exclaimed in surprise as he looked up at Mr. Konstanzi.

He held the Diary in front of Gabriel.

Excuse me! proclaimed Mr. Bancroft. What’s the meaning of this? Who are you? How do you know my wife? his soft voice grew louder – from confusion toward rage.

Oh my God! exclaimed Mrs. Sanchez.

Olivia stood up and moved towards Gabriel. I don’t believe this either! Who are you?

Gabriel stood up in defense, reacting to the sudden hostility, while holding up his hands in a motion of surrender to all the questions. Hey, I don’t know anything about this, he said in his defense to both the Bancrofts. He turned to Mr. Konstanzi and said, Look, I don’t want this book! I don’t know anything about this – book! Or where it came from. Or why it’s for me?

You better explain yourself Mister! exclaimed Mr. Bancroft.

STOP! Mr. Konstanzi commanded. His stern voice resonated within the walls of the room and silenced them all. Everybody froze in place. You’ve all forgotten the rules that you promised to abide by. You have dishonored this event. You have dishonored your promises. You have dishonored Mrs. Maria Grace Bancroft. He looked around the room to see everybody displaced from their pre-assigned positions. Now sit down! All of you; please.

Everybody took a few breaths to release the sudden tension, before sitting back down in their designated seats.

Rules are NOT meant to be followed under conditions such as this, Mr. Bancroft, who was still standing, exclaimed. He then turned and directed his question to Gabriel. Did you have an affair with my wife? Did you? he raised his cane in anger.

Everybody stayed silent at that moment, waiting to hear an explanation that would prove this accusation false.

Mr. Bancroft, no, I did not have an affair with your wife, nor do I know anything about this Diary that is being presented to me.

Then, who are you? And how do you know my mother? asked Olivia as she moved closer towards Gabriel, interrupting her dad and cutting in. I don’t believe you.

I am sorry. But I don’t know why she would want me to have her Diary.

You know something, and you’re not telling. Because, why would she give you something that obviously pours out love and passion? Huh?

The room went silent again; it was a question that spoke volumes – it demanded an answer; any answer. Gabriel looked around the room as everybody waited for his response. Their collective gaze was upon him, begging for a legitimate answer. Mr. Konstanzi just stared directly at Gabriel, neutral in his position. Gabriel faced Olivia to politely respond to her. His voice was full of sincerity and regret for what had just transpired as he softly explained, I do know Maria - your mother, but I didn’t come here with any expectation except to pay my respects to a great woman.

A great woman? How do you know she’s a great woman? Mr. Bancroft asked angrily. You are a liar!

No, I’m not. I’m telling you the honest truth! said Gabriel as he defended himself again from the onslaught of accusations.

How dare you present yourself here in my house? How dare you insult me with your presence? shouted Mr. Bancroft.

Who are you anyway? asked Olivia.

Gabriel turned to Mr. Konstanzi for support. Mr. Konstanzi stepped forward and stood between Gabriel and Olivia. Please stop for one moment; everybody, please! He took a breath to ease the tension within the room. To answer your question Miss Olivia, this is Mr. Gabriel P. Miles. He is an architect by trade and has a distinguished reputation for his work and for his contributions to the industry – nationally and internationally. His name was presented on the list made by the late Mrs. Bancroft, and that is why he is here. The late Mrs. Bancroft requested his presence, and I ask that you honor her request by not asking why he is here, he said this as he looked around the suddenly silent room. His right was granted by her invitation.

Maybe so, Mr. Konstanzi, said Mr. Bancroft, but I still demand an answer as to why he is receiving a personal book – my wife’s Diary; I don’t know this man; none of us know him.

This is getting way out of hand, Bob Washington exclaimed as he moved his way towards the front where all the action had been taking place. Getting upset is not going to help this situation, now you know that Mr. Bancroft, he said softly, counseling the group as he stood between Henry and Gabriel while facing the rest of the attendees. Now, we all agreed to follow the rules that Mr. Konstanzi read to us earlier, and here we are up in arms. And I’m quite sure that this gentleman, Mr. Miles, has an explanation, right? he said as he turned to Gabriel.

Gabriel looked at him for a moment and said, I am extremely sorry if I ruined this honorable event. I had no intentions to cause chaos in this time of difficulty. I am deeply sorry Mr. Bancroft, truly, said Gabriel. Then he turned to Mr. Konstanzi and handed him back the Diary. I cannot take this, not if it causes this type of turmoil. I won’t. Please, give it to the rightful owner; not me.

Mr. Konstanzi accepted the Diary and took a step forward. There is one more rule that I did not mention, because I had hoped that it would not come to this. Gabriel turned and headed towards the exit as Mr. Konstanzi continued to speak. I wouldn’t leave just yet, Mr. Miles, his stern voice trailed after Gabriel.

Gabriel stopped in his tracks and turned to face Mr. Konstanzi and the other attendees.

Rule number three has major implications based on the last article, which is possession of the Diary. Mr. Konstanzi turned and looked directly at Gabriel as he spoke. If you leave this room without honoring the late Mrs. Bancroft’s request, then all will suffer the same consequences. Do you know what that means Mr. Miles?

This is an outrage! pronounced Henry angrily.

You can’t do that, said Gabriel.

What kind of rules are these? asked Olivia. She turned to her father, Can he do that?

Oh, on the contrary Miss Olivia, these are not our rules. These are your mother’s direct stipulations, and we are only here to apply them; and my job is to follow these stipulations which have been outlined under Article 63, Section 8 of the State of Maryland Code.

Meaning? asked Mr. Bancroft.

Meaning, as he stepped slowly closer towards Mr. Bancroft and addressed him, and the rest of the attendees, If I do not execute my job according to an individual’s will, it means that I lose my license and my service fee for today’s event; which I must say is very handsome. But, quite honestly, my loss is not as valuable as all of your losses.

Why don’t you say what you have to say, Mr. Konstanzi? asked Bob Washington.

You should ask Mr. Miles, answered Mr. Konstanzi. He understands exactly what I am saying.

Everybody turned to Gabriel for the answer.

Gabriel looked into every eye within the room. What Mr. Konstanzi is saying is that, if I don’t take this Diary as requested by Maria – excuse me, Mrs. Bancroft – then I will have forfeited all of your inheritance that she has so generously distributed to each of us, he said before turning to Mr. Konstanzi. Isn’t that correct, Mr. Konstanzi? asked Gabriel as he looked directly at him to confirm his interpretation.

Bravo, Mr. Miles, said Mr. Konstanzi. He then turned towards the Bancrofts and asked, Are you willing to lose your inheritance, and yours too Miss Olivia, and the inheritance of the others because of a book – a Diary – that the both of you knew nothing about? Mr. Bancroft? And I am quite sure that even Mr. Miles was just as surprised and awestruck by this event – innocent of all accusations.