Dreams Adrift (A River Dream Novel) (9 page)

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Authors: DW Davis

Tags: #love, #marriage, #beach, #sailing, #horseback riding, #finding soul mate

BOOK: Dreams Adrift (A River Dream Novel)
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He surprised me. I’d expected a rant about how
a teacher had treated him unfairly or spanked him too
enthusiastically or something. A refusal to discuss it followed by
a welling of tears I had not expected.


No, Mr. DeLuca, I won’t evict you
for that alone, though perhaps I should. You see, my wife was one
of those teachers you so thoroughly insulted.”

Mr. DeLuca looked at me in a different way.
Something in his demeanor changed.


Mr. Lanier, I did not realize you
interfered as a question of honor. I thought you were butting in
where you had no business. Please accept my apologies to you and
your bride.”

He stared into his lap for a moment, almost as
if he was praying. With a deep sigh he looked up. “Let me tell you
a story.


Fifteen years ago, before I lived
in North Carolina, my wife Carlita and I had a son. He was a
beautiful baby boy. We thought he was perfect. But there had been
complications during the delivery which, while not terrible, caused
him to be a little slow to learn.


We loved Dominick, and it never
seemed to us that there was a problem. Then he started school. We
tried to tell the teachers that he just needed a little more time,
a little more direction, to be able to do the things they were
supposed to teach him.

“‘
No,’ they said. ‘He was slow. He
was stupid.’


They didn’t want to take the
time. But my wife took the time. Dommie would come home from school
each day in tears. Carlita would sit with him and go over his work.
She would find ways to help him understand it. He would regain his
confidence, only to have it struck down again by the teacher the
next day when he couldn’t grasp the next thing quickly
enough.


My Carlita tried to talk to the
teachers, the principals, but no one would listen, no one would
help.


Three years ago, after all those
years of struggling, I received a call at the restaurant and came
home to find Carlita in tears. Our precious boy had killed himself.
One week later, Carlita took her own life. It is a wonder that I
didn’t take mine.


I blamed his teachers. All his
life they had run him down and made him feel worthless. No matter
what his mother and I tried to do, they did nothing but hurt him.
Do you still wonder why I don’t like teachers?


Eventually, I recovered enough of
myself to want to start over. Several months ago I met a woman who
began to help my heart heal. She encouraged me to leave that place
and come here. She had gone to the university here and told me what
a wonderful city this was. So, I came and with the help of…well, I
guess with your help though I didn’t know it, I was able to start
Primavera’s. Everything was going wonderfully until today. You see,
Mr. Lanier, it was three years ago today that…that…my little
boy…”

Mr. DeLuca could not continue the story
through his tears. “I should not have come to work today. Linda
told me not to. I should have listened to her. Now I am
ruined.”

His story was tragic. I don't know that it
justified how he had acted, but I knew that I wasn't going to put
him out of business.


No, Mr. DeLuca, you are not
ruined. I’m very sorry about what happened to your family, but
those teachers who failed Dominick were not in your banquet room
today. I know those teachers who were in there today, each and
every one of them. They are not the unfeeling, uncaring losers who
failed your son. They are devoted, dedicated teachers who put their
students first. I went to school where they teach. My wife teaches
there now. Most of those people are my friends. Mr. DeLuca, they
are not the people who hurt you.”


I realize that now. Too late do I
realize that,” Mr. DeLuca said sadly. “How can I ever make right
what I have done this day?”


Mr. DeLuca, you could apologize
to them. If you want, I will talk to them. I won’t tell them
anymore than you want me to, and then you can
apologize.”

He looked at me sadly, and asked, “Will that
be enough?”

Hoping to lighten his mood, I ventured with a
smile, “Maybe a gift certificate for a meal?”

Now Mr. DeLuca smiled too, a wan smile, but a
smile. “That I think I can do, yes. Mr. Lanier, thank
you.”


Mr. DeLuca, you are welcome. And
I apologize for the things I said about you and your restaurant.” I
rose and came around the desk.


Nonsense,” Mr. DeLuca said,
standing also. “It was the shock I needed to make me come
around.”

We discussed briefly how we could get the
staff together for him to offer his apology, and he decided to
invite them all to a free New Year’s Eve dinner there at the
restaurant.

 

 

 

Twelve

 

 

I caught up to Maeve and the teachers at
Dupree’s just as they were being served their pizzas. There didn’t
seem to be anyone else in the place besides them. That’s when I
noticed the sign on the door, CLOSED FOR PRIVATE PARTY. Alfred had
closed the place down for them. I owed him big time.


Alfred, I didn’t expect you to do
that. I’ll make it up to you,” I said.

Alfred put his arm around my shoulder and
laughed, “What, so a few people have to wait to have some of my
pizza another day. They’ll come back. You don’t owe me a thing,
Michael. If it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t even be here to be
closed, if you get my meaning.”

I eyed him suspiciously, “What do you mean, if
it wasn’t for me?”

Shaking his head and clasping his hands in
front of him almost as if in prayer, Alfred replied, “Michael,
Michael, I talked to you about wanting to open my own place. You
say you think it is a good idea and maybe it can happen. Suddenly I
hear from some people who want to help me start my own business
with terms too good to be true, and it’s on the level. I may just
be a poor purveyor of pretty good pizza, Michael, but I can put two
and two together.”

I smiled and shook the hand he held out to me.
“Officially, I have no idea what you are talking about. As a
friend, thank you again.”

Alfred went back to work, and I went to find
Maeve. As I walked up to the table, she put a piece of pizza in my
mouth.


Did you tell Alfred to kick
everyone out for us?” she asked me with a disapproving
frown.

I held up my hands as if warding her off. “All
I asked him to do was make up a few extra pizzas. I expected you
guys to eat them on the bus.”


On the bus, huh,” Maeve said with
something between annoyance and amusement. “Well, I’m glad he
didn’t. We’ve got to clean that bus out before we give it
back.”

Turning more serious, she asked, “What
happened with DeLuca?”

Taking a deep breath I motioned toward an
empty table near the back of the room. “That will take some
telling,” I said.

Mr. McHale joined us as we sat down, and I
told them what I’d learned when I talked to Mr. DeLuca. When I
finished, there were tears in Maeve’s eyes.


Michael, may I share that story
with my staff?” Mr. McHale asked solemnly.

Nodding slowly, I told Mr. McHale that Mr.
DeLuca said it would be all right to tell enough to help them
understand why he acted the way he did.


He also asked that I make sure
you all understand how sorry he is for what happened,” I
added.

Mr. McHale related the story and the apology
to the staff. He told them Mr. DeLuca would like to apologize to
them all in person and that they had all been invited back for a
complimentary New Year’s Eve dinner. After some discussion it was
decided that they would accept both the apology and the
invitation.

 

 

 

Thirteen

 

 

My final exams were finally over, and Maeve's
first semester as a high school teacher drew to a close. It was
time to plan for Christmas. It turned out we didn't have that much
to plan. Grandma Lillian had decided she wanted to bring back the
tradition of hosting a family Christmas Eve and had convinced my
aunt to go along.

Since their house would be a bit small for
such a large gathering, the family arranged to have the party in
the Berne Restaurant at the corner of Glenn Burnie and Neuse
Boulevard in New Bern. The restaurant had a sizable banquet room
and a nice buffet. All the family would have to do was show up and
enjoy.

That worked out well for Maeve and me since
we’d left for River Dream as soon as school was out and planned to
stay there until New Year's Eve. We’d be going back to Wilmington
for New Year's Eve at Primavera's.

Christmas Eve at the Berne wasn’t quite like
the ones I remembered as a kid, but the whole family seemed to
enjoy themselves at Grandma Lillian's party. When Maeve and I got
back to River Dream, after Maeve fell asleep, I slipped out to the
living room and put a special present under the tree. Maeve had
made me promise not to be as extravagant for Christmas as I had
been the year before when I bought her the Porsche. I kept my
promise, in terms of dollars anyway.

We slept late Christmas morning. I woke first
and was just getting the wood stove started when Maeve, hands
wrapped around a cup of tea, settled onto the couch. She smiled
when she saw the little Breyer horse under the tree. It looked just
like Raven.


Michael, where did you find it? I
love it.” She was beaming like a kid.


I just asked Santa to bring it to
you, and there it is,” I told her. “You know Santa always comes
through.”

The toy horse was fully tacked up, and it took
her a moment to notice.


Michael, this saddle is genuine
leather,” Maeve said as she held it close to her face and took a
sniff. She eyed me suspiciously.

With as innocent a smile as I could manage, I
told her, “And the fittings are real silver, and the stones are
real turquoise.”

Her smile faded just a bit as she scolded me.
“Michael, I told you not to be extravagant this year.”

A guilty smile replaced my innocent one. “Then
you’d probably better not read the note wrapped up in the
bedroll.”

At the back of the saddle was a bedroll, a
real wool blanket, with a note rolled up in it. Maeve pulled the
note carefully from the roll and read it.

Whatever you do, don't go to the
tack room.

Her lips twisted into a puzzled frown. “What
does that mean? What's in the tack room?”

I sighed a dramatic sigh. “If you don't want
to get mad at me, you probably shouldn't go out there.” Then I
started to chuckle.

Maeve gave a frustrated laugh. “Come on,
Michael, let's get dressed and go out to the tack room.”


Not yet,” I said with a
mischievous grin. “That was your stocking present. You don't get
your other presents until after breakfast.”

Having gotten a good fire going in the wood
stove, I pulled myself off the floor and headed into the kitchen. I
had just gotten my coffee poured when Maeve walked in with an
expectant look on her face.


You are kidding, right? You're
not really going to make me wait until after breakfast, are you? I
mean, I need to go out and feed Raven anyway.”

We’d brought Raven to River Dream the very day
we'd gotten home for the break.

Sipping slowly at my coffee, giving the
impression I was considering telling her she'd have to wait, I said
nothing for a minute. After making a show out of savoring the java,
I finally gave in.


I suppose you are right, you do
have to feed Raven anyway, so I guess we can go see what Santa left
you in the tack room.”

With a look of triumph on her face, Maeve set
her mug down on the counter and hurried to the bedroom to change. I
followed with a silly smile on my face. I was having way too much
fun. A few short minutes later we were dressed in jeans and
sweatshirts, heading to our little stable.

I made a big show out of opening the tack room
door. As I clicked on the light, Maeve's eyes grew wide and her jaw
dropped. There on the saddle rack sat a full-sized, custom-made
saddle like the one on the toy horse under the tree.

Hand carved into the leather were a series of orchids like
the ones in Maeve’s wedding bouquet. The padded, inlaid seat, in
the shape of a heart, was the same heather blue as her eyes. Her
name was stamped into the back of the cantle in gothic script. The
saddle string conchos were silver, accented with turquoise, and
hand engraved with images of sailboats.

Maeve looked at it, looked at me, and looked
back at it. In a quiet voice she said, “Oh, Michael, it's
beautiful.”

She walked over to it and lovingly stroked the
leather. It took her a moment to notice the matching saddle pad
under it and the bridle hanging on the peg behind it.


Thank you, sweetheart,” she said,
blinking away the tears forming in her eyes. She walked over to me
and put her arms around me. “I love it. It's exactly the one I
wanted. How did you know?”

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