Tempest Tossed: A Love Unexpected Novel (28 page)

Chapter 21—Rene

Dear Hannah,

I’ll tell you more details when I get back but I wanted you to know we got out of the Azores in one piece. What a wild couple of days! Right now I’m on a plane from London to New York. First class. My seat doesn’t just recline, it turns into a bed! The food has been fantastic. I don’t know how they do poached eggs up in the air, but I just had one with asparagus and truffle sauce. There was an actual slice of truffle on it, too. Sorry. You can’t take the foodie out of a chef.

Anyway, Dylan’s been great. He really stepped up to the plate for the crew and got everything sorted out before we left the islands. We went back to the boat and salvaged the artwork that hadn’t been damaged too badly. That’s a whole other story. But he also snagged our passports so we could get out of there faster. All the guys are stuck and have to wait for documents from the consulate.

We’re having a good time with each other but we have a lot of sorting out to do. Sometimes I think it’s moving too fast and other times it seems we’re not moving at all. He’s got some real issues in his past (and now his present, too) that he keeps shutting me out from. I have to fight with myself not to pry and push. Dylan’s way of dealing with confrontation is to walk away. Even if he doesn’t physically leave, he can shut down like no one I’ve ever known. That bothers me. I think if we’re going to have a serious relationship there’s got to be occasions where we talk about serious things. Don’t you?

Never mind. I can almost hear you telling me to chill. Okay., I read you loud and clear. (That's boat talk!)

We’re going to stop for a couple of nights in New York and then head back to Lauderdale. We get in around eleven tonight (your time) and have a room in Manhattan. Dylan’s taking me on a shopping spree tomorrow. You know I’ve never been much of a fashionista and somehow I think I might need something a little snazzier than jeans and a t-shirt when I step out with Dylan.

I’ll call you from NYC. Love, R

I hit send and looked over at Dylan who was intently reading on his own computer. He felt my eyes on him and looked up.

“Not much chance for romance in first class, huh?” He patted the low partition between us.

“I was thinking the same thing. That proves that too much luxury isn’t always ideal.”

“Not to worry. The room we’ve booked at the St. Regis will have a most generous bed and a door that locks the world away.”

“I wanted to ask you why you didn’t book at your own hotel.” I thought it was kind of odd that Dylan avoided even looking at it on line. After all, the Monarch chain was among the best in the world.

“Good question. And I can’t really give you an answer that makes sense. I just want to keep my distance right now. Keep a clear head.”

“Fine with me.” I shrugged my shoulders. “I’m sure the St. Regis will be more than I could hope for.” Look at me, Hannah. Chill. That’s me. Totally chill.

“Besides, now that we’ve decided to shop, you’ll be glad to know we can walk from there to Bloomingdales. I looked it up.”

“Taking over my job as ‘researcher-in-chief’”

“Just sharing the load. I’m not an expert, but I’ve heard my cousin Phebes and her girlfriends talk about ‘Bloomie’s’ as if the store is more or less heaven on earth.”

Phebes was one of the ones I’d be costuming myself for. I hoped she wouldn’t even remember me from the boat. Maybe I could get a fresh start. Otherwise, I would forever be the ‘help’. As in, ‘Dylan is sleeping with the help’.

“You’re sweet to be so thoughtful.” I put my hand between the seats and he took it. The top of the partition dug into my arm.

After he gave it a little squeeze he remarked, “Remind me not to book these seats for our honeymoon.” I must have looked shocked at the mention of ‘our honeymoon’ because he quickly cleared his throat and added, “You know what I mean.”

“Sure,” I said and let that lead balloon drop. I picked up the entertainment guide and made some small talk about the movies. If he was as uncomfortable as I was, it didn’t show. I wasn’t ready for talking about marriage and I wasn’t even happy joking about it.

I loved Dylan, but there were way too many unanswered questions about his temperament to suit me. It was one thing to promise me he’d stop closing me off and walking away when the conversation strayed into his ‘private’ territory. It was quite another to put that into practice. It wasn’t that I couldn’t handle the dark elements that haunted him, only that I wanted to be able to share them, confront them and eventually conquer them—together. In my mind, he had to move past the ghosts. For us to evolve as a couple, the things he wanted to share the least had to become something we owned together. 

We hadn’t begun to talk about what we wanted out of life. From where and how we’d like to live to whether or not we’d want a family. I knew from an early age that I wanted children. Not one child, but several or none at all. Growing up alone meant lots of attention, but it also meant lots of loneliness. As a kid, I used to think that the phrase should have been ‘lonely child’ instead of ‘only child’.

My parents had stopped at one on purpose. They wanted to give me everything—and they had. But I think there were selfish reasons, too. A house full of kids didn’t suit either one of them. It was too messy and chaotic for a couple of scholars.

It occurred to me that this was one subject that hadn’t been placed off limits—yet. Good. No time like the present to get one question answered and out of the way.

“Dylan?” He beamed those ocean blues at me and I wanted to melt right into the seat. He sure would throw some pretty pups. “How do you feel about children?”

He cocked his head and smiled. “I love children. I’ve always envied those who got to be one.”

“Believe it or not, that’s the way I feel. Only children are forced to be little adults.”

“So you’d let yours be kids, huh?”

“Absolutely. Someday—not too soon, but someday—I want a house full of noise and toys.”

“And puppies. Don’t forget puppies. You said you wanted those, too.”

“Puppies and kids go together.” I agreed.

“I want kids who play in the dirt. I want scraped knees, chipped teeth and broken arms.”

“Well, I’d like to skip accidents, if I can. But dirt and scraped knees sound good. I’m pretty good at bandages.”

“You are excellent at bandages. I know that. I think you’d make a very good mother.” He looked thoughtful as he said, “Rene, I’m not sure I’d be a good father.”

“Oh, Dylan, don’t say that. You don’t have to be anything like your dad.”

“I’d work my butt off to be the opposite, that’s for sure. But, it’s kind of like being in love with you.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s all new to me. I don’t know how to be ‘in love’. I know I’m in love with you, but I’m still just feeling my way.”

“And you’re feeling your way very well,” I said suggestively. I didn’t want the conversation to go too heavy.

“You and I both know it isn’t just physical. I know we’re great together. But there have been times when I didn’t know how to be with you. I’m sure you’ve felt it.”

“Everyone feels that way sometimes.”

“Me more than most, I’m afraid. And that’s what I wonder about being a father. I’m not sure I’ll know how.”

“Don’t you think that all new parents feel that way?”

“Yes but all new fathers didn’t have Voldemort for a dad.”

“You’re exaggerating. Your father was a jerk and a cold fish but he wasn’t pure evil. He could have cut you out of his will entirely.”

“Instead he comes up with a devil’s bargain.”

“Well, you don’t have to follow in his footsteps. You can be your own kind of parent. I think you’d be a great dad. You love the outdoors and you have tremendous respect for nature. Children need that. Plus, you’re kind and gentle to small beings. Lady D. was almost like a child and I loved watching how you cared for her.”

“I miss her.” He paused and sighed. “Can you imagine how hard it would be to lose a child?”

“No, I can’t. But I’m still working on imagining having a child. I want to be a lot more fun than my parents were.”

“But not all fun. Your children shouldn’t be denied all that wonderful knowledge your parents force fed you. Especially with today’s schools. Art and history is not a big priority. I think it’s a shame.”

“I suppose. It’s just that I had an overdose. It took some of the joy out of it.”

“I want my kids to play a musical instrument,” he announced with authority.

“The best way to accomplish that is to lead by example. My parents are wonderful musicians. Mom plays the cello and Dad’s the pianist. That was one thing they never had to force on me. Some of the most beautiful memories I have are of the two of them making music together after dinner.”

“I rarely had dinner with my parents and they were almost never together afterwards. My dad would sit in the living room by himself and my mother would disappear into the bowels of our big cold house.” He frowned and I felt badly about introducing such a sad subject. “So, what do you play?”

“Okay, I’ve admitted to the geek gene so no teasing. Violin.”

“No shit? I’m impressed. Isn’t that the hardest instrument of all to play?”

“I think there are worse, but it’s right up there.”

“Why violin?”

“It completed the trio for my parents. We played together once I got good enough. I loved it. I felt closer to them when we played together. It was a vast improvement over art history lessons out the wazoo.”

“Am I right in thinking you don’t want to take in the museums while we’re in New York?”

“Actually, no. I’d love to stroll around the MoMA for a while. My parents are strictly pre-twentieth century.”

“Modern art it is, then. We’re not on a schedule. Let’s take our time and make up for having our days cut short on El Loco.” Dylan looked at me very seriously. “I know we have a lot of talking to do. And I know I haven’t been easy. But I’m going to try. I want you to know me, Rene, really and truly down to the bare naked soul. I’ve learned that much about love so far. There’s no shortcuts around the prickly stuff.”

It was very much the right thing to say.

Chapter 22—Dylan

New York was a new city with Rene by my side. She’d never been to the Big Apple and she was bright-eyed with excitement. We were kind of loopy with the time change; it was three a.m. according to our body clocks. The fifteen mile ride into Manhattan only took us about a half hour; it was late at night and traffic was minimal.

We probably looked like a couple of gypsies with our odd little bag and dressed in the hippie duds Rene had bought in the Azores. I was still wearing the flip-flops she found for me; I just couldn’t bring myself to wear the espadrilles. Way too Euro for me. The draw-string pants I’d chosen for the plane were bad enough. We both had some serious shopping to do.

The big bed was heaven after the economy mattresses I’d suffered for the past days.

“I have to wash this trip away before I can sleep,” she told me. “Do you want to go first? I may have to soak a while.”

I peeked into the cavernous bathroom. There was a huge claw-footed tub and a big shower stall. “We can do both,” I told her.

Rene looked like a little child in that big tub. She’d poured a generous amount of bubble bath in it and just her head and shoulders rose above the mountains of fluffy foam. From the shower, I watched her play with the dripping faucet with her big toe and slide under the water every so often, submerging out of sight.

Her delight in small things was wonderful to me. She had carefully packed away the luxurious in-flight toiletry kit from the plane to take home and marveled at all the goodies the airline had provided. Before she got in the tub, she had put out the complimentary toothbrushes by each of the double sinks and put the fancy face cream out for herself.

I leaned over the sink to brush my teeth and heard Rene’s wolf whistle behind me. “That’s a mighty fine body you got there, cowboy. It looks just as good as the first time we met.”

“I still blush when I think about it,” I told her through a mouthful of toothpaste.

“Liar. I’ve never seen you blush. And you certainly didn’t seem all that embarrassed when I found you buck naked in my kitchen.”

“Galley,” I corrected. “And it was
my
galley. I just forgot I had a girl in there.”

“Pffft,” she hissed as she slid under the bubbles again.

I climbed gratefully into the big bed and tossed one of my
three
lump-free feather pillows to the side. Pillows. A bed that my feet didn’t hang off the end of. Heaven.

If we had remembered to close the blackout curtains we might have slept until the next afternoon. I hadn’t even felt Rene slip under the covers when she came to bed. I was gone the instant I snuggled into that sublime bed.

Only the din from the street and the sun on my face stirred me grudgingly awake the next morning. Rene had put the satin sleep mask from the airplane over her eyes and was dead to the world when I got out of bed. I let her sleep.

I loved watching her when she wasn’t aware of me. I could study her face and memorize every delicate detail. This morning I noticed the baby hair around her forehead. They were the ones that curled, almost invisible until the sun caught them and made them shine. And I noticed the pale peach fuzz that grew on her cheek just in front of her elegant little ear. The light caught the fragile skin from behind and lit it up like a rare pink shell. I kissed her softly and I let sleep. I’d wake her in another hour so she could start to adjust to East Coast time.

The New York Times was outside the door, of course. It had been ages since I’d actually picked up a newspaper and it felt rather old-fashioned to be sitting in the elegant classic hotel flipping the pages of the venerable rag. It didn’t take long to get bored with it. No wonder print was dying, I thought. Between the ink on my fingers and the unwieldy size of it, it was a totally inconvenient way to get my news.

I opened the e-notebook I’d gotten at Heathrow and cursed the ridiculous decision to buy it. My hands needed a full sized keyboard. I could hardly navigate and kept hitting the wrong keys. I needed to send an email to Spencer. I wanted him to send me a complete copy of the will so I could take it to another attorney for an opinion. I had been in such a hurry to get out of London that I had stupidly forgot to get it. Perhaps it wasn’t as ironclad as my father meant it to be. But the little notebook wasn’t going to cooperate with my big fingers so I just surfed around some news sites for a while and killed time.

The room service menu left nothing to desire and I was getting hungry. I went to the other end of the huge room and used the phone on the writing desk, hoping I wouldn’t wake my sleeping beauty before I needed to.

She stirred a little when I made the call and the covers slipped down to her waist. While I was ordering coffee, eggs and pastries I studied the gentle curve of her back as she lay on her side. I wished there were more ways to touch her. I wished there was a way to say I
more
than love you. She had restored my faith in so many things—humanity, good in the world, the power to heal—and I was profoundly grateful.

When it was time to wake her, I kissed sleep away. I pulled her sweet clean hair away from her face and touched my lips to her temple, then her cheek. She smiled and rolled over on her back with a moan and a stretch.

After a filling breakfast and how showers, we were soon ready to shop ‘til we dropped. New York City is not a place that makes a person in resort wear feel well-dressed. And, I admit, I was anxious to spend money on her and on myself. I’d spent enough time being frugal with Daddy’s money. It was my turn.

“Before we go out, would you do me a favor?”

“I’d do anything for you, love. What?”

“Type an email to Spencer. The damn notebook just does not work with my big clumsy fingers.”

“I would never call those fingers clumsy, Dylan. Those fingers are as graceful as ballet dancers on my body.”

“Just not on a keyboard.” I handed her my notebook. “It’s all ready to go, I just couldn’t get the message done.”

Rene sat down at the desk and poised her fingers over the computer. “Shoot.”

Good morning Mr. Spencer,

Please email me a copy of my father’s will. In my haste, I left London without getting one.

I also want to thank you for your invaluable assistance to me in handling the wreck of El Loco. Without you, it would have been a far more difficult task to see my crew taken care of. I will be attending to the insurance issue as soon as possible. Of course, I will require your assistance with that as well going forward.

Please keep me up to date with anything urgent regarding Monarch Hotels. Otherwise, I have great faith that you and the experienced directors, managers and staff of our holdings are more than capable of seeing to the day to day operations.

Rene shot me a quizzical look.

“That’s my way of saying; don’t bother me with petty bull shit. Just sign it, ‘Sincerely Dylan J. Cruz.”

“J being for Jackson?”

“None other. I carry Mom’s eyes and Dad’s name. Lucky me. Send it. We’ve got a busy day ahead.”