Dream On (Stories of Serendipity #2) (13 page)

BOOK: Dream On (Stories of Serendipity #2)
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“Yeah, Mom.
 I do.”

Thankfully, she dropped the subject, and Dalton made a concerted effort to stop bouncing his knee around his mom.

Later that afternoon, Dalton was coming up from the cafeteria with coffees for them to drink, and Mary patted the chair next to her, inviting him to sit.

“I know something’s distracting you, and I know you don’t want to talk about it.  I just want to remind you of your responsibilities here, Dalton.  Your father…”  She sniffed, and went on.  “Your father doesn’t seem to be getting better, and you are needed here.  You realize that don’t you?”

“Yes, Mom.  I realize that.  I’m here, and I don’t think I’m going anywhere.  I may have to go back to Dallas and get the rest of my stuff, but there’s no hurry.”

“Good.  I just wanted to make sure you understood.”  Mary ended the conversation by standing and going into the restroom. 

Dalton buried his face in his hands.  If only his mother knew that what was bothering him was right here in Serendipity.  She didn’t seem too pleased with the prospect something might be bothering him besides his father, which was typical of Mary.  She seemed to believe whatever was foremost on her mind needed to be at the top of everyone else’s priority list.  And it usually regarded her husband. 

It had always been that way.  When Dalton was shopping around for colleges, Richard had mentioned to Mary it would be nice if Dalton stayed close to home and went to Steven F. Austin University.  Furthermore, it would also be wonderful if he wanted to f
ollow in his father’s footsteps and take over the ranch.  That was all the encouragement Mary needed to intimidate Dalton to do just that.  For the next year and a half she had pressured, cajoled, guilted, and even bullied Dalton until he finally relented.  Now he had an Ag Sciences degree from SFA, which he hadn’t particularly wanted to use.  He had been putting off the inevitable, until now.  And it looked like Mary wasn’t going to let him forget it. 

That night, at dinner, his sister joined in the chorus.

“Dalton, is Dad okay?  I’m sorry I didn’t get to visit him today.  Somebody had to do laundry.  Did the doctors say something?”

“Dad’s the same.
 The doctors didn’t come in today.  Take as much time off as you can, Renae.  I can sit with Mom.”  He tried to be reassuring.

“It’s just you seem a little different today.
 Like you’re anxious about something.”

“No.
 I’m fine.”  He took a bite of his roast pork.  “This pork is great,” he said, trying to change the subject.

Kelly piped up with, “It’s Ms. Fuller.
 He’s been acting funny since yesterday.  They kissed at the Pepper Festival.” She told her mother, before turning to Dalton.  “You like her, don’t you?”

Dalton’s fork slipped from his grasp, clattering onto the plate.
 He managed not to choke on the bite of pork in his mouth.  Taking a sip of his iced tea to wash it down his throat, he looked at his niece. “I’m just thinking about stuff.  I don’t know her that well, Kelly.”

“He’s got a date with her tomorrow.
 He’s probably nervous about it.”  Kelly looked at Renae directly.

“It’s not a date.
 And I’m not nervous.”  Dalton growled at her.  He didn’t want to admit it, but she was right on.  He was nervous.

Kelly replied in typical teenager fashion.
 “Whatever.”

Renae looked at him quizzically
but helped him out by changing the subject. “So, did Dad have any lucid moments today?”

Talk turned to the topic of Dad, and Dalton breathed a small sigh of relief.
 He had no idea what was going on with Alyssa Fuller.  Suddenly she was real, and Dalton wasn’t sure how to deal with that.  He eagerly discussed his father’s condition, until dinner was over.  He volunteered to clean up the kitchen, and went to bed.

The next morning, he took the pick-up truck out in
to the pasture with the heifers and parked it, turning off the engine and listening to the lowing of the contented cattle.

Dalton had gotten into the habit of checking on the cows every morning like this.
 He enjoyed the peace of the pastures, and the cattle grazing.  He watched from the cab of his dad’s pick-up, and inspected the cows for visible signs of health issues.  Their serene interaction made him long for a simpler lifestyle.

It was a great opportuni
ty for introspection, and today he found himself thinking about his hometown.  

It was much smaller than Dallas and full of people who knew him.  He was not the random stranger here.  He was Dalton Colt, son of Richard and Mary Colt, and Renae Stanford’s sister.  Here, he was connected to people.

Obviously, his mother was expecting him to step into his father’s boots and run this ranch.  As always, Richard and his wishes were Mom’s first priority, and nothing would be able to sway her mind if she thought Dad wanted something specific.  If her past actions were anything to go by, she would press him about the situation, until Dalton gave in and she got what she wanted.  Dalton’s desires would take a backseat to Mary’s until her needs were met. 

Dalton
sighed heavily.  He loved his mother, but he couldn’t seem to make her understand he was his own man.  That was what most of their fights had been about in his adolescence, Dalton wanting to be his own person, apart from his dad.  Mary seemed to think the only reason for his existence was to be an extension of Richard.  Mary’s deep desires stemmed from her expectations that Dalton would become a younger Richard, because in Mary’s mind, Richard was the epitome of the perfect male specimen.

That’s how Dalton felt anyway.  Every time he had tried to express his individuality, she had squashed it.  When he had gotten his tattoo, for instance, she hadn’t spoken to him for months, because his dad would never have altered his body in such a manner.  Thank God, she didn’t know about his piercing.  Dalton chuckled to himself at the thought of what his mother would say about it. 

No doubt, she would be horrified.

Dalton wanted to stay here, but he didn’t want his mother to use it as leverage against him, like he was afraid she would.  As much as he loved her, Mary could be manipulative when she wanted something.

Oh well, he would deal with those issues as they came up.  He certainly wasn’t going to instigate a conversation with his mother about it.  She was sure to bring it all up eventually.

Dalton’s thoughts drifted to the Hot Pepper Festival, as they had continuously since Saturday.

Alyssa was something else.  He had been shocked to see her, because she was real, not a figment of his imagination.  And he had been thinking about marrying her, just the Sunday before last, with the whole virtuous woman sermon.  She was virtuous, and she had been truly astounded to see him.

This revelation made him uneasy.

She had been dreaming of him, too.

Dalton didn’t know how to process that information.  The fact she was real was hard enough to deal with.  He had been pondering the thought of marrying her when he thought she was a figment of his imagination, but knowing
she was a real, live, flesh-and-blood woman, who lived in his hometown changed that.  He didn’t know what he wanted, now.  Except, he knew he wanted to see her again.

How long had she been seeing him in her dreams?
 How much did she know about him?  More importantly, what did she think of him?  

His life was so different from hers.
 She was so sweet and naive compared to Dalton.  Had she seen what he did with the women he took home from The Church?  From the bar?  He had seen her in all her glory, had she seen him?  He found he was embarrassed at the thought.

If so, she no doubt had made some sort of judgment against him, valid or not.
 He had to make a good impression on her this afternoon.  Dalton couldn’t wait to meet her, to talk to her.  

He started the truck, scattering the cows that had congregated around it, in hopes of being fed something besides grass, and drove back to the house.

Like a nervous girl, he chose his outfit carefully, trying on different shirts before finally settling on a soft, blue plaid button down shirt with pearl snaps on it.  He buttoned it up, looking at himself in the mirror before deciding to leave it open over his white tee shirt.  He cleaned his boots, shining them until they sparkled.  He shaved carefully and applied gel to his hair, trying to get it to do something besides stick straight up.  Unable to tame the cowlicks, he ran his hands through it repeatedly, to give the impression he had fixed it that way on purpose.  Splashing some aftershave on, he decided there was nothing more he could do for his physical appearance.

His nerves however, were another story.
 Ready a full hour early, he was unable to sit still.  Pacing the house, he spied his parents’ bar.  Deciding a swig of brandy couldn’t hurt, he opened the bottle and drank from it, before leaving to go wait for Alyssa at the bakery.

 

Knowing that she would have to go straight from work to meet Dalton, Alyssa woke early that morning to spend extra time on her appearance.  She showered and blow-dried her hair, curling it slightly at the ends.  She agonized over what to wear, finally deciding on a pair of linen white slacks, and a blue v-necked sleeveless sweater.  Alyssa knew the sweater made her blue eyes pop.  She would have to be careful to not sit down too much though, she didn’t want the pants to wrinkle.

At school, everybody noticed her appearance.
 The principal raised his eyebrows when he saw her.  His secretary made a comment about how pretty she looked wearing make-up.  Even the students noticed.

Third period, the class Kelly was in, started in on the comments as soon as the bell rang.

“Ms. Fuller, you look hot,” said one boy, whom Alyssa had relegated to the front row permanently.

“A rather inappropriate comment for your teacher, but thank you.”
 She replied, turning to write something on the dry-erase board.

“Do you have a date?”
 Asked another student.

“Yes, she does.
 With my uncle,” said Kelly.

With her back to the class, Alyssa could feel the blush crawling up her face.
 Not turning around, she said, “Kelly.  My personal life is not up for class discussion, please.”  She continued writing on the board, unable to focus on the words in front of her.  She could hear the whispers behind her.  

“Today
we are going to take a break from grammar, and read a short expository text.  If you would get a literature book, and open it to page one twenty-seven. I need a volunteer to read aloud, please.”

A chorus of groans greeted her, effectively cutting off any more discussion about her “date.”

As her day progressed, Alyssa found the butterflies in her tummy were reproducing.  Seventh period, there was an entire swarm of them down there, twirling around and doing loop-de-loops to the point where she felt like she would vomit.

She stood at her desk, surrounded by the silence only a lac
k of fifteen- and sixteen- year-olds could produce. ‘What am I doing?’  She couldn’t actually meet him.  What if he wanted to have sex with her?  Of course he wanted to, that’s what he did.  He had wild, unadulterated sex with women.

A horrifying thought struck her.
 What if he didn’t want to have sex with her?  What if he found her repulsive and couldn’t stomach the thought of sex with her?  She had just thought she didn’t want to have sex with him, so why would it matter if he didn’t want to either?  She couldn’t start a wild sex relationship, anyway.  She had her kids with her half the time.  She couldn’t expose them to that.  

Well, she would just have to meet with Dalton and explain how things were going to be.
 She was sorry she had dreamed about him and imposed on his privacy, but there was no way she would or could ever do any of that stuff with him.

With her decision made, the butterflies still fluttered wildly.
 She ran a brush through her hair, reapplied her lip-gloss, and paced her room until the bell rang for the end of school.  Then she snuck out the side door, and left for her meeting with the man from her dreams.

 

 

 

 

Chapter 12

 

Dalton recognized her dusty, silver Saturn when she pulled into the parking lot.
 Standing nervously, he ran his hands through his hair, belatedly remembering the gel he had put in it.  Awkwardly, he waited on the porch of the bakery next to the rocking chair he had been sitting in, wondering if he could hug her.  He felt like he was meeting a long lost friend and craved the feel of her, but he wasn’t sure how she would react.

He watched her make her way to the door.
 Seeing him, her steps faltered slightly, before she pressed forward towards him.  He stood and smiled in greeting, and she smiled back, shyly.

“Hi.
 Alyssa.”  He kept his arms at his sides, willing them to not reach around her and grasp her tightly.

“Hello, Dalton.”
 Her voice was shaky and she kept tucking a piece of hair behind her ear.  Good, he wasn’t the only one who was nervous.

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