Veiled (42 page)

A few hours later, when
Nancy opened the front door, she found herself looking at Dane. She
was struck once more at how this lanky, tall blond looked more like
a Californian Surfer, than an east coast, upper crust, Harvard
graduate. But it was the seventies…

“
Hi, Dane!” she said
cheerfully.

From the back of the house
you could hear a newspaper being put down and some heavy steps
coming toward the front door.

“
Hello, Mrs. Wilson,” Dane
said with a quick nod of the head, then greeted Russell more
formally by calling him by his military title of
“Admiral.”

“
Hello,” Russell said
gruffly as he stretched his large hand to Dane, and shook it once
with strength. Then he chuckled and invited him in.

“
So, you’ve been busy, I
take it, sending all those presents?” Russell asked as he motioned
for Dane to sit on the sofa opposite of his easy chair.

“
Yes, sir,” Dane admitted,
turning red.

Nancy couldn’t help notice
that in his hands, Dane held a small turquoise box—Valerie’s next
present, hand delivered by him. She also knew what that turquoise
box meant, and hoped the kid hadn’t overdone it. Too much too soon
would be disastrous, and she wanted this to work out.

“
Is…Valerie home?” Dane
stammered.

“
She’s in the garden,
painting,” Russell said with amusement in his voice.

Dane rose up from the sofa.
“Do you mind if I have a word with her?” he asked, his ears
burning, they were so hot.

Russell got up, too, and
came to Dane’s side. “Son,” he said as he grabbed Dane’s elbow, “my
daughter is strong, but she bruises easy.” Russell’s eyes were
intent on Dane’s.

“
I understand, sir. I…” he
could hardly explain the depth of his feelings for Valerie to
himself, much less to the Admiral.

“
It’s okay, honey, you
just go talk to her,” Nancy said with her sweet southern drawl. She
liked this guy and was going to do all in her power to help her
daughter see reason.

* * * * *

Chapter 36

Dane opened the screen door
and walked down the stone path that led into a pretty little garden
packed full of flowers, shrubs, and various garden decorations.
Valerie sat inside a little white cast iron gazebo that had a
wisteria plant filled with cascading vine like flowers that dangled
down from the top. He looked around, and thought this was a perfect
little setup, the kind of home he always dreamed about having.
Quaint, homey, inviting…not like his parents’ cold and ostentatious
mansion, where you couldn’t sneeze without someone coming up behind
you to clean.

Valerie was intent on her
painting and didn’t turn, as she heard the footsteps coming toward
her.

“
You are back,” she said
without stopping or turning.

Dane wasn’t sure if she
knew it was him or if she was simply finishing a conversation she
had earlier with her parents.

“
I am,” he responded,
hoping that the sound of his voice would solve that
problem.

But she didn’t respond, or
turn. She simply continued painting.

“
I brought you your last
gift. Well…it doesn’t need to be the last.”

“
Why are you doing this?”
She regretted letting those sour words out the moment she said
them.
Why do I have to be like this?
she scolded herself.

“
I’m not sure.” He lied,
he knew exactly why, but didn’t find it prudent to tell her just
now—not if she was going to turn him away.

“
It was nice of you,
really,” she said, hoping to smooth out her last comment. “All your
gifts…they were all so…thoughtful.”

“
What are you painting?”
he asked, changing the subject.

Valerie thought about how
to answer this question, and then decided that blunt honesty would
be the best.
No need to beat around the
bush, or pretend to be normal. If he is this determined, he might
as well know exactly what he’s getting into,
she thought.

“
When I was in the mental
hospital, you know…after I tried to commit suicide,” she paused,
letting all that sink in for a moment, “I had a dream, a very vivid
dream unlike any other I have ever had.” She paused again. “In it I
saw a guy…an Angel, about…I don’t know twenty-something. He said he
was my Guardian Angel, and…” An unwilling tear fell from her cheek.
She reached with her hand to wipe it away, but Dane had beaten her
to it. She was startled by how quick he had been and how much
closer to her he was than she had anticipated.

At her sudden movement, he
withdrew his hand, but stayed sitting on the step of the gazebo,
not moving away.

She was glad that he didn’t
say “go on” as most psychiatrists do when they want their patients
to keep unveiling their crazy thoughts before them.

“
And that he wanted me to
see something,” she continued. “When he said this, I was standing
in the middle of a white space. It was him and I, then in the
distance a door appeared. He told me to open it, so I did.” Another
tear fell, this time Dane didn’t try to catch it. Valerie was sorry
for this, and let it drop untouched.

“
Inside I saw a room,
filled with people. It was like a huge classroom, they were all
sitting down facing forward. In the background I could hear the
most beautiful sounds. They were human voices, it was a choir, but
I couldn’t understand anything they were saying.

“
When the music ended, I
heard the voice of a man. I couldn’t see him, but I could hear him.
He must have been the teacher, because all the people in the room
were attentively looking forward to where the voice came from. This
is where the dream gets weird,” she said, and faced him for the
first time. The tears were streaming freely down her face now. Dane
had a pained look on his face, but he managed a thin smile that
barely curved up at the ends. He still said nothing, but looked at
Valerie attentively.

“
I say it gets weird,
because I saw me in that room. You see, I was still standing by the
door, but as I looked into the room of people I was there as well.
I looked older too, well older than sixteen, because that’s how old
I was then. I looked like I was listening to the teacher, very
intently. He was talking about life—mortality, he called it—he
wanted to know if any of us would volunteer to come to mortality
with a disability. He also said that those who volunteered wouldn’t
be able to know what type of disability they would get. Then, I saw
me—the other me, the one in the room—raising my hand and
volunteering.”

Dane felt himself shudder
involuntarily, then stretched his hand slowly toward her face, and
gently wiped some of Valerie’s tears away. This time Valerie didn’t
flinch. She looked steadily at him and wondered why he wasn’t
running for the door.

“
Next to me sat a man,”
she continued. “When I raised my hand to volunteer, I saw this man
reach over for my free hand, and interlaced his fingers with mine.
Then the Angel said that I had volunteered for this…mental illness
of mine, and that unfortunately it wouldn’t go away. But that I was
strong enough to live with it.”

Dane said nothing, though
he was moved, and his gaze showed nothing but interest for
Valerie’s revelations.

“
After that dream, I
decided to pull my act together and then took up painting. I’ve
always wanted to paint my dream, but I lacked the skill. As I got
better, I started to paint parts of my dream. This is the first
painting I did.” She pulled out a painting of the choir of Angels;
this one had apparently gotten her a scholarship.

“
I didn’t see this in my
dream,” she explained, “but when I first tried to convey it, this
is what came out.”

Dane studied it closely.
“How old were you when you painted this?” he asked,
impressed.

“
Seventeen.”

“
It’s remarkable, it gives
me chills,” he said as he held the painting and studied it
closely.

Valerie smiled at his
comment, and then pulled out another picture.

“
This one is a sketch of
the man who sat next to me in that room and held my hand when
I…volunteered.” She held the picture in her hand, looking at it,
wondering if she had the strength to hand it over to Dane. Her
hands trembled. ane noticed and one of his eyebrows rose
involuntarily. He stretched his hand and wrapped it around
Valerie’s trembling hold on the picture, until she released
it.

He turned it around before
he focused in on it, and then looked up at Valerie one last time
before looking at this mysterious sketch. Valerie lowered her head,
red with embarrassment.

Dane stared at the picture
for a few seconds, trying to focus his senses on a profile that
looked strangely familiar. Then he realized what he was looking at.
The sketch was him, a perfect sketch of his profile as if it had
been done yesterday. His hair looked different, it was cut short,
but other than that…

All kinds of thoughts
floated through his head at this time.
When
did she draw this? Could she have done this recently?
Then he remembered that instance during lunch,
when she grabbed the side of his face and studied it. He had teased
her about that then, asking her if he would make a good picture or
something. She said yes. Maybe that’s when she drew him.
But why the elaborate story? If she wanted to seem
crazy to scare him away, why do it in this way? She could have
turned him away in so many different ways, why this?

“
It’s true,” Katie said in
his ear.
It must be true,
he concluded.

“
How old…” His voice
croaked out and couldn’t finish his question.

“
Just a few months after I
drew this one,” Valerie said, pointing to the picture of the
heavenly choir.

“
It’s true,” Katie
reassured him once more.

Dane marveled at this most
glorious possibility.
She had a dream, an
incredible dream and I was in it, before we even knew each
other.
His heart was beating rapidly, a
surge of emotions came over him and without thinking about what he
was doing, he slid his hand underneath Valerie’s long hair and
pulled her toward him. Surprised by this sudden movement, Valerie
looked up. Their faces were fractions of an inch apart. Dane closed
the gap between them and kissed her.

This woke something that
was dead or buried deep inside Valerie. She flashed her eyes opened
for an instant, then relented. Her lips felt as if they were on
fire, her heart started beating once more and every muscle and
nerve ending felt alive. She grabbed his face with both her hands
and tangled her fingers into his hair. Warmth filled her completely
and she felt more alive than ever.

Aware that her parents
might be watching, Dane released his grip on Valerie and tried to
regain control of his senses. There was so much he wanted to say to
her, but no cohesive sentences would form.

I had been translating
thoughts and emotions all along, and we were now contently watching
them kiss.

“
You two make quite a
picture,” Alex grinned. “I wish Val could paint you two lounging on
top of this gazebo, spying on her.”

“
I feel like we are being
watched,” Dane said with a smile.

“
He has no idea…” Alex
said, and we laughed.

“
Unfortunately they are
part of the deal too,” Valerie said as she stole a glance toward
the kitchen window, where Russell and Nancy stood spying on them as
well.

Dane never took his eyes
off her. He traced her jaw line with his fingers and drew her to
him. “I’ll take any deal that involves you.” He paused for a
moment, his lips gently brushing against hers, and then kissed her
again.

Alex’s thoughts caught my
attention. I turned my gaze toward him. His face was down, when he
noticed that I was looking at him, he looked up to meet my stare. I
could have connected with him, to know exactly what he was
thinking, but I didn’t have to—I felt the same way too. To connect
minds with him now would have been torturous for both of us, the
yearning we both felt for a body was a constant source of
frustration. So we simply exchanged looks, and they conveyed all
that could be said.

“
So what’s my last
present?” Valerie asked, as they emerged for air.

Dane was dazed and took a
minute to regain his bearings. “Oh, yes. I hope you like it, but
it’s certainly not your last present.”

Valerie untied the box and
opened it. Inside the box was a pair of tear shaped tanzanite
earrings. “Oh, they are beautiful,” she gasped.

Dane was pleased. “I
thought they might go well with the pendant that your dad got you,”
he clarified.

“
They will,” she assured
him.

Inside the kitchen Nancy
was leaning her head on Russell’s shoulders. “If she doesn’t marry
him, I will,” she declared.

Russell laughed heartily,
kissed the top of her head and walked away from the window. “I
might just forgive him his father if he makes her
happy.”