The Color of a Dream (14 page)

You’ll never be quite as good as your
brother
.

That was the look. I could see it on his
face now.

“Dad,” I said as I settled into a chair,
“it’s Jesse.”

My greeting was met with silence.

“Are you there?” I asked.

My father cleared his throat. “Yes, I’m
here. Well. This is a surprise.”

I’d never heard my father sound flustered
before, but there was always a first time for everything.

“How are you?” I asked. “How’s Mom?”

“She’s well,” he replied. “And you?”

I almost wanted to laugh. I was his youngest
son and he hadn’t heard from me in a decade. To my knowledge he
didn’t even know if I was dead or alive unless he had somehow been
keeping tabs on me. Yet he spoke as if I called to confirm an
appointment for a dental cleaning. I kept waiting for him to
suggest I call his receptionist back in the morning.

“I’m all right,” I replied. “You’re probably
wondering why I’m calling.”

“Yes. Should I get your mother on the
phone?”

“That would be great,” I said.

“Just a second. I’ll get her.” He must have
set the phone down and walked away because I heard nothing for a
moment or two. Then a click told me that someone else had joined
the call.

“Jesse?” The sound of my mother’s voice
compared to my father’s had quite the opposite effect on me. Joy
poured through me and I wanted desperately to see her in
person.

“Yes, Mom, it’s me,” I said. “It’s good to
hear your voice.”

“It’s good to hear yours, too,” she replied.
Her warmth and affection reached me through the phone line. I knew,
without a doubt, that the emotion was genuine. “Where are you?” she
asked. “Still working in Boston?”

So they
had
been keeping tabs on
me.

“Yes,” I replied. “I’m piloting for a
private medevac company.”

“Planes or helicopters?” she asked.

“Helicopters.”

“I see.” She paused. “You’re always careful,
I hope. I know how dangerous that job can be.”

“I’m careful, Mom,” I assured her.

“I’m glad to hear it. Are you seeing anyone?
Do you have a girlfriend? You’re not married yet, are you?”

“No,” I replied with a smile and wondered
why I had waited so long to call her. This wasn’t what I had
expected…until my father spoke up.

His voice was like a sledgehammer,
demolishing our conversation, reminding me why I left. “Why are you
calling us, Jesse? Why now?”

The message that he had not forgotten or
forgiven any of the angry words I had spoken years ago was received
loud and clear. My mother grew quiet.

“I’m calling about Rick,” I said, point
blank. “I’d like to get in touch with him but his number isn’t
listed.”

“That’s because he recently moved,” my
father explained.

“I figured as much,” I replied. “Do you have
his new number?”

Neither of them answered my question, which
made me wonder what the big secret was. “Are you afraid I’ll call
him up, stir up the past and threaten his life or something?” I
asked.

“Of course not,” Mom said. “But can you tell
us what you want to talk to him about before we put you in
touch?”

“Why?” I asked. “Do you feel you need to
protect him from me?”

It was a ridiculous suggestion because Rick,
of all people, enjoyed fighting his own battles. Though he’d always
had our parents’ support, they never knew what was
really
going on. He was one person with them, and quite another with
me.

“Why do you want to call him, Jesse?” I was
surprised by her accusing tone and by the fact that it was coming
from her and not Dad. “Have you heard something?”

My eyebrows pulled together with confusion.
Obviously there was something going on—but was it the custody suit
or another matter?

“I did hear something,” I replied. “I heard
he’s suing a woman for custody of their child.”

There was a pause. “That’s right.”

“So you know about it?” I asked.

“Of course we know,” my father scoffed.
“We’re the ones who encouraged him to seek custody.”

I shut my eyes and cupped my forehead in a
hand. “Why doesn’t that surprise me?”

“I don’t know what you’re implying,” Dad
said, “but I don’t like your tone.”

I opened my eyes and dropped my hand to the
armrest. “I don’t like yours either, Dad, so I guess we’re even on
that score.”

“Jesse, please…” Mom whispered. “I don’t
want this to turn into another argument.”

“Then maybe Dad should hang up and I should
just talk to you.”

“I’m not hanging up,” he announced. “If you
want to know what’s going on with your brother, I’ll tell you. Not
that you deserve to know, but since you made the effort to
call…”

I sat forward and rested my elbows on my
knees. “Yes I did make the effort. So tell me,” I said.
“Please.”

When my mother explained the situation, her
words vibrated through me. It took a few seconds for my brain to
catch up. “My God,” I said. “When did this happen?”

“It began about a year ago,” Mom said. “He
started having symptoms so he went to see his doctor. Before we
knew it, he was having surgery. Then came the chemotherapy. That’s
what caused the sterility.”

I couldn’t believe it. My picture-perfect
brother had been diagnosed with testicular cancer and now he was
sterile.

Which explained why he suddenly wanted
Ellen.

Or perhaps why my parents wanted her.

“So he’ll never be able to have children of
his own?” I asked. Despite everything, my heart felt heavy.

“Not unless he adopts,” my father answered,
“which he and Christine may decide to do in the future.”

I felt a jolt. “Who’s Christine?”

“His fiancée,” Mom said. “They’re getting
married next month. That’s why his phone was disconnected. They
moved in together and he left his job, left everything behind. He
truly wanted a fresh start. They’re not in LA anymore.”

My head drew back in surprise. “Rick is
getting
married
? And he left LA?”

“Yes, isn’t it wonderful? The doctor says
he’s completely cured. He beat the cancer and met the most
wonderful girl. She’s a physicist.”

“How did they meet?” I asked, still reeling
with shock, because Rick didn’t usually go for the brainy types
unless they were also gorgeous. Maybe Christine was a model on the
side.

“At the hospital,” she explained.
“Christine’s mother was being treated at the clinic at the same
time as Rick. I’m sorry to say she has breast cancer, but she’s a
fighter. Anyway, you know Rick. He can’t resist any opportunity to
flirt with a pretty girl.”

I massaged my temples. “No, I guess not. But
are you sure he’s going to go through with the wedding? You know
how he has a tendency to…” I stopped myself. I didn’t want to rain
on my mother’s happy parade when she had obviously been through so
much.

“Yes, we’re sure,” she insisted. “I know you
might find this difficult to believe, Jesse, but he’s changed. This
cancer scare—and meeting Christine—have made him see life
differently. He was always very ambitious, professionally, but now
he wants to be the best man he can be, to never take anything for
granted. He wants to enjoy the simpler things and we’re so proud of
him.”

“You always were,” I reminded her.

She let out a sigh of defeat, as if she was
disappointed that I had failed to understand how marvelous Rick was
with his new lease on life. “Yes,” she said, “but we’re even more
proud of him now.” She paused. “He’s had time to think about what
he’s accomplished—and hasn’t accomplished—and I won’t lie. He has
some regrets about certain things. Things that caused the rift
between the two of you.”

“You mean Angela,” I said.

Another pause. “Yes. Rick agonized over that
when he was having his treatments. That’s when he told Christine
about Ellen, and then she told us.”

I wasn’t about to say it out loud to my
mother, but despite everything she’d just described, I still had a
hard time believing that Rick truly regretted what happened to
Angela or that he felt any genuine love for the infant daughter
he’d never met. It wasn’t that long ago that he cast Nadia out and
paid her a generous sum of money to stay away and never ask him for
anything more. To never force him to face up to his
responsibilities, or to commit to one woman. To be a father.

Now that he had a clean bill of health, I
wondered how long it would take for him to return to his old ways.
Poor Christine would become dull and boring and he would suddenly
wake up one morning and realize he wanted to live life to the
fullest.

‘So many women, so little time.’ Wasn’t that
his favorite catch phrase in college?

What would happen to Ellen? What about
Nadia?

I decided to probe a little further and ask
my parents what they knew about Nadia. “Did Rick say much about his
relationship with the mother?”

“Yes, he told us everything and we met her
sister Diana when she was living with him. She seemed like a very
nice woman at the time, but then Nadia came along—her identical
twin—and…” Mom paused. “Oh, it’s all very disturbing.”

“How so?” I asked, growing more curious by
the second.

“I’d rather not talk about it,” Mom replied.
“All I can say is that when Diana couldn’t convince Rick to marry
her—she was very pushy—the other one tried and she tricked him into
getting her pregnant. She hoped to trap him. Obviously they were
working together and were both after his money.”

“What do you mean,
tricked
?” I asked.
“Are you sure that’s what happened?”

I still wasn’t ready to believe whatever
Rick said to our parents because I knew better than anyone how he
could spin a tale to place himself in the most favorable light. He
had a talent for shifting the blame.

“I’m quite sure,” she replied. “He was very
generous and gave her a financial settlement, and thank God the
contract was iron clad. It prohibited her from asking for more and
she signed it.”

“But now Rick wants the baby,” I said.

“Yes, and it makes perfect sense that he and
Christine should be the ones to raise her. Everything has fallen
into place so beautifully.”

“Beautifully? Are you forgetting that the
mother of that child doesn’t want to lose her daughter?”

“I’m sure she doesn’t,” my father put in,
“but any court with a sensible judge will rule for the benefit of
the child—and Ellen would be far better off with Rick and
Christine.”

“How can you say that?” I asked. “You don’t
know Nadia at all. Is it because Rick has more money? Or is it
because he’s sterile now and suddenly he wants what he can’t have?
And whatever Rick wants, he should get?”

“No, Jesse,” my father replied in a calm,
patronizing tone. “It’s because that woman is in very poor health
and the child deserves to have a stable home with both a mother and
a father.”

“What are you talking about?” I asked. “What
do you know about her?”

He was quiet for a moment. “We’ve looked
into things and we know her life expectancy.”

My gut began to churn. I frowned and sat
forward. “I still don’t understand.”

“Nadia Carmichael had a heart transplant
just after Ellen was born,” my father explained, “so she’ll always
be at risk for infections. She’ll be lucky to live fifteen
years.”

Unable to move, I stared at the wall, then I
heard my mother saying, “
Jesse? Jesse, are you still
there
?”

“Yes, I’m here.” I slowly rose to my feet.
“Thanks for telling me this. Can you give me Rick’s number now? I’d
like to call him.”

“Of course,” Mom said.

She read me his new number, and I wrote it
down on a scrap of paper.

“I have to go,” I said. “I’ll call you
again. I promise.”

I hung up and strode to the kitchen to grab
my keys.

“Jesse, this is a surprise.” Diana stepped
back and invited me inside. “Come on in.”

“I should have called,” I said as I entered
her home. “I sent a text to Nadia but she didn’t reply.

“She just got out of the shower,” Diana
said.

Just then, my phone vibrated. I pulled it
out and checked the messages. “There’s her reply,” I mentioned.

Diana smiled. “I’ll run up and tell her
you’re here.” She started up the stairs. “Have a seat.”

I moved into the living room where Ellen was
bouncing in a colorful activity center.

“Hey there, what’s up?” I knelt down in
front of her. “This is quite the gizmo. They didn’t make toys like
this when I was your age.” I couldn’t help myself. I pushed each of
the big, lighted buttons that played musical notes. Ellen giggled
at me. Then I played around with the frog spinner. “What’s this
doohickey here?” I fiddled with the bead chaser next. “This is
cool.” I sat back on my heels. “It’s kind of like your own little
space ship.”

“That’s exactly what I thought when it was
given to us.” Nadia’s voice startled me. I rose to my feet and
turned around.

There she stood wearing a pair of denim
shorts and a loose-fitting black T-shirt. Her long dark hair hung
wet and wavy about her shoulders. She was drying the ends off with
a towel. Her feet were bare.

Her beauty rendered me speechless and
spellbound. At the same time, I was distracted by fact that she had
recently undergone a heart transplant and survived it.

What else didn’t I know about her?

I massaged the back of my neck with my
hand.

“Sorry to barge in,” I said, “but I didn’t
think it could wait.”

Her eyebrows lifted. “Why? Did something
happen?”

“Yeah. Do you have a minute?” I asked.

“Of course.” She moved fully into the room
and sat down on the sofa where she continued to squeeze the wet
ends of her hair with the towel.