Dreams Adrift (A River Dream Novel) (17 page)

He nodded vigorously to show he understood.
Shorty started to stir, so I put my foot on his neck to ensure his
continued docility. I stopped applying pressure at a point where he
could just barely draw air.

“
Now, I think you owe these folks,
and the owners of this diner, an apology for your rude behavior,
don’t you?”

Again, he nodded vigorously.

“
I’m glad we understand each
other,” I told him with a malicious smile. “And to show there are
no hard feelings, as soon as you leave, I’ll settle your
tab.”

I gave him a little shove backwards as I
dropped him. He landed in his chair and promptly fell over on his
back. Then I released his buddy from the floor. He rubbed his
throat and climbed slowly to his feet.

“
Man, you sure have some moves,”
Shorty said.

The tall guy pulled himself up off the floor
and approached me cautiously.

“
What are you, man, Force Recon or
something?” he asked, his voice tinged with respect.

Shaking my head, I informed them, “I was Navy,
just a boat driver.”

Understanding showed in the tall guy’s
eyes.

“
Swick,” he said, not as a
question, a statement.

“
Yeah,” I replied.

Shorty looked confused.

“
A what?” he asked.

Tall guy ignored him. “My brother was with the
boats. I had no idea, man. I’m sorry about those things I said
about your sister.”

“
Don’t apologize to me, apologize
to her,” I told him, indicating our table.

“
Folks, miss, we’re real sorry for
the trouble. We were out of line,” the tall guy said.

Shorty, not quite understanding what was going
on, wisely chose to echo his friend.

“
Yeah, y’all, we didn’t mean
nothing by it.”

The other couple of folks in the Grill just
shrugged, told them not to worry about it, and went back to their
breakfasts.

“
I guess we ought to get going,”
the tall guy said as he picked up his chair.

Feeling a little guilty, not too guilty, just
a little, I asked, “Do you want to finish your
breakfast?”

“
Well, to tell the truth, I am
still pretty hungry,” Shorty said with a shrug.

Indicating with a nod of my head that they
should sit back down, I told them, “Then go ahead, I’ll take care
of things with the owner.”

I went back to our table and noted that my
mother, father, and Malori were all looking at me with something
akin to awe. Rhiannon wore a knowing grin.

“
Chapter Three, Mike?” she chided
me. “Don’t mess with my family either?”

Knowing Rhiannon was referring to an incident
with our friend Beth’s prom date back in high school, I replied,
“Something like that,” and returned to my seat.

My mother looked from Rhiannon to me and
back.

“
What does that mean?” she wanted
to know.

Looking from my mom to Rhiannon and back, I
said, “It’s an inside joke, Mom.”

Realizing it was all the answer she'd get, my
mother pointed out, “That was very noble, Michael, but somewhat
foolish. There were two of them.”

“
I know it was unfair,” I said,
“only two of them against me and my bionic hip.”

Malori was looking at me like she couldn't
believe what she'd just seen. She looked over at the two guys,
smiled a shy smile, and then turned back to me.

“
Michael, that was really
something,” she said. “What would you have done if one of them
tried something?”

I gave her a cold stare and cautioned, “Mal,
don’t ask questions you don’t want to know the answer
to.”

Secretly, I was relieved those two hadn’t
tried something. Though I’d kept myself in shape and continued with
my workouts over the years, my success was due more to surprise and
bravado than anything else.

My father, who appeared to have been made
uncomfortable by the whole incident, suggested we put it behind
us.

“
They apologized and now we’re all
friends,” he said as he picked up his fork. “Let’s just finish our
breakfast.”

Rhiannon wasn't quite finished.

“
Malori,” she said, “today you
joined a very exclusive club.”

Clearly puzzled, Malori asked, “What kind of
club?”

“
A very small club,” Rhiannon
explained, taking a sip of her coffee. “As far as I know, you and
Beth Bosworth are the only members.”

Malori was never one to enjoy riddles. “What
are you talking about, Rhiannon?” she asked.

“
She’s just being funny,” I said
shooting Rhiannon a warning glance. I didn’t really mind her
telling Malori, but not in front of my folks.

“
I’ll tell you some day when
you’re old enough, Malori,” Rhiannon said.

Malori looked frustrated but let it rest. My
mom and dad looked at each other but said nothing. I dug into my
omelet. Rhiannon smiled at me and finished her eggs.

The two guys I’d had the vigorous discussion
with came over to apologize again when they left. The tall guy,
whose name we learned was Tom, apologized directly to
Malori.

Malori replied, rather shyly, “That’s okay,
Tom. Guys will be guys. I’ve got a brother. I know how it
goes.”

After they left, Malori turned to me. “Mike, I
almost wish you hadn’t beaten them up. The tall one was kind of
cute.”

“
Michael did not beat them up,
dear,” my mother insisted. “He gave them a stern talking
to.”

“
It sure looked like he kicked
their butts to me,” our waitress, Judy, said as she came over with
our check.

Twenty-five

Deciding to put the Hunter away first was
based on the fact that it would take the longest to rig but be the
faster boat to sail. We had a pretty good southwest breeze and were
able to sail a broad reach until we were just off the harbor in
Oriental. There we came about to a beam reach until we had to furl
sails and start the motor to navigate into the marina. We’d gone
aboard the night before and removed everything except what we
absolutely had to have to make the trip.

Jeremy met us at the dock. Once my father
arrived and we’d taken the last few things off of
Geddaway,
Jeremy pulled her out of the water to be prepared for long-term
storage. Then we went back to River Dream for a late lunch before
setting sail in
Riverscape
.

As we made our way downriver in the smaller
sailboat, Malori asked, “How long have you had
Riverscape,
Michael?”

I had to stop and think about that. “Since I
was seventeen, I guess,” I said before easing the sail a bit to
take advantage of a puff of stronger wind.

Malori, sensing the change, eased the
jib.

“
She’s in good shape,” she
commented. “How did you come up with the name
Riverscape
?”

A sad smile crossed my face at that memory.
“I’m sure I’ve told you the story before.”

Malori shook her head. “I don’t think so. If
you did, I don’t remember.”

I took a deep breath to get my emotions under
control before saying, “Actually, I didn’t come up with the name.
Maeve did.”

When I said that, Rhiannon turned to me with a
questioning look on her face.

“
I’d forgotten you and Maeve were
at camp together,” Malori recalled, her interest piqued more by the
look Rhiannon gave me than anything else.

The puff of wind passed, and I trimmed the
sheet.

“
Maeve and I first met at Camp
Riversail,” I explained. “The summer before my senior year of high
school we worked at camp together. My friend, Chase, had a date the
day I picked up
Riverscape
, so Maeve volunteered to spend
her day off helping me sail her home.”

“
I thought you never noticed the
girls at camp,” Rhiannon said with a shake of her head.

“
I hadn’t until that summer,” I
replied, and then realized that wasn’t true.

There had been one other. I hadn’t thought of
Christy Ann in years. We’d only been thirteen when we shared our
first kiss. I kept that to myself.

Malori checked the jib and decided it was
fine.

“
So how come you let her name
Riverscape
?” she asked.

I adjusted the tiller just a touch to bring us
back to my mark before I replied.

“
Technically, I guess she didn’t
actually come up with the name
Riverscape
. Maeve said
something about how the boat would be my way of escaping to the
river when I wanted to get away from it all. That gave me the idea
for calling her
Riverscape
.”

“
That’s a cool story,” Malori
said. I think she was glad to see me remembering happy times I
spent with Maeve.

Rhiannon, however, seemed a bit perturbed.
“Funny how I never heard it,” she commented.

“
You never asked,” I told
her.

“
So, in all those summers at Camp
Riversail, the only girl you ever noticed was Maeve?” Rhiannon
asked in a voice strongly indicating she doubted that very
much.

I wasn’t going to bring up Christy Ann. That
would only add pain to the pain I was trying so hard not to
feel.

“
Yeah,” I told her. “Up until then
there was a girl back home that had all my attention.”

Rhiannon knew exactly who I meant and wisely
decided to let the issue drop.

“
Who was that, Mike?” Malori
asked.

Rhiannon and I both looked at her like she’d
just grown another head.

“
Oh,” she said quietly.

We all kept to our own thoughts the rest of
the way to Oriental. By supper time both boats were out of the
water and on their way to being ready for some extended time in dry
storage. It felt odd not having a sailboat docked at River Dream. I
knew it was temporary, but it felt so final.

Between trips to Oriental to pick us up, my
mom and dad finished going through Maeve’s things, boxing them up
for me to decide what to do with them. The things I knew Cynthia or
her folks might want, I sent to them. I knew I should have taken
the items myself, but I wasn’t ready to face them again. It had
been hard enough when they came to the hospital and again when I
saw them at the funeral.

The rest I told my mother and Malori to go
through to see if there was anything they wanted. For myself, I
only kept a few special keepsakes of things Maeve and I had done
and places we’d been together.

As evening faded to night, my mother and
Malori left for the Marina Hotel in Oriental. My father excused
himself to get ready for bed. Rhiannon and I walked down to the
dock with some freshly made ice tea.

We sat in the screened room and listened to
the crickets, the frogs, and the lapping of the water against the
dock pilings. From somewhere in the distance, the thrum of a diesel
engine propelling a shrimp boat downriver reached us through the
dark night. The west wind brought the faint sound of laughter and
singing from a Camp Riversail campfire circle. These were the
sounds of night on the river. Their familiar rhythm brought me a
semblance of peace.

“
Mike, are you still planning on
heading to the Islands for the winter?” Rhiannon, stretched out on
the chaise lounge, asked.

I was sitting on the swing. “Yes,” I
replied.

We sat there and listened to the sounds of
night on the river.

Rhiannon took a slow sip of her tea. “Mike,
when will you come back from the Islands?”

That was something I wasn't thinking about
right yet. “I don’t know,” I said.

We sat there and listened to the sounds of
night on the river

Rhiannon thought about that for a moment, then
asked, “Mike, will you be visiting your folks in the
meantime?”

I hadn't really thought about that either.
“Like when?” I asked.

Rhiannon sat up and looked at me. “Like,
Christmas, Easter, Malori turns eighteen next spring. Will you come
home for things like that?”

Once she mentioned them, I realized I should
probably plan on being home for those kinds of things. “I suppose,”
I answered distractedly.

We sat there and listened to the sounds of
night on the river.

Rhiannon relaxed back into her chair. “Mike,
if you do come to Wilmington occasionally, maybe we can have lunch
or something,” she suggested, trying to sound
nonchalant.

The suggestion seemed a bit odd, being that
she lived in Greenville.

“
That would be nice,” I said. “But
that’s a long way for you to come for lunch.”

Realizing why I thought that, Rhiannon
explained. “Not for much longer. I’ve applied for a job at UNCW in
their admissions office. I got the call this week that the job is
mine if I want it.”