Lovely Dreams

by Danielle Stewart

  “I’m sure,” she said with a giggle. “It’s probably full of pleasure.”

  “But.” He raised his finger to correct her. “I haven’t done anything with a real purpose. Something that could have a real impact on my life. On my mother. If it weren’t for you, I’d have walked away from even the whispers of some old secrets. Now, I really want to know because maybe it’ll make a difference.”

  “For who?”

  “For you. For my mother. For your mother. I don’t know. Maybe it’ll implode and be something I regret for years to come. But I know I won’t regret one thing.”

  “What?”

  “Meeting you.”

  “For a playboy bachelor you’re certainly sentimental. I didn’t expect that.”

  “Me either.”

  “I’m really scared, Tray,” Lauren admitted as she looped her arm around his bicep and squeezed tightly.

  “Afraid to fly?” The engines of the plane roared to life and within a few moments they were jetting down the runway and lifting off.

  “No. I’m really afraid that at the end of all this I’ll have more reason to be angry. Angry at my mother. At Gloria. At the world. I don’t want to walk around the rest of my life feeling the way I do right now.”

  “You won’t.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Lauren, you’re like the sun. You have these beams and rays that shoot right out of you. I’ve seen it. It shines on other people and lights them up. Even a few of us who hardly deserve to be in your orbit. The sun, it might slip behind the clouds every now and then, but it never stays there. You’re too brilliant and vibrant to stay where you are. Whatever you find, however bad it is, you’ll find a way to get back to happiness.”

  “I reject your analogy. The sun seems like a reliable thing that will rise every morning, but that’s not necessarily true. It’s a star. It can explode or burn out.” Her voice trailed off a little. “Or whatever stars do. I didn’t pay attention in astronomy.”

  “Well if that happens we’ll all be dead anyway and what you’re worried about won’t matter. We’ll all be in a black hole, void of anything.”

  She pulled her head up and crinkled her face at him. She was intoxicatingly endearing, and he felt punch drunk on her at the moment. What if they flew as far as they could? Kept going. Maybe she’d been right earlier. What would be wrong with two hammocks slung up in the jungle? Forget about Italy and the secrets. Running had worked for him this long. He knew it could take away her pain. Temporarily she’d be distracted. They’d fill their days with exploring some exotic new land and their nights exploring each other. He could practically see himself feeding her pineapple on a secluded tropical island. Holding her tight as they tandem zip-lined over the top of some forest. He could beat back whatever lies were eating at her soul. For a while.

  He was well-practiced at avoiding. Built up a tolerance to the nagging reminders from the real world that popped up. Lauren wouldn’t be quite so good at cutting all of her life away. Mostly because she allowed herself to have one. To have people.

  “You should have stopped at the brilliant and vibrant thing. The black hole of nothings doesn’t have a nice ring to it,” she told him.

  “Shit. I thought so. Sorry, I’m new at this caring about people stuff. You’ll have to be patient with me.” He shrugged playfully.

  “You’ve got the next nine hours to try again. Caring about people is not for the faint of heart. You might need lessons.”

  “What’s it like?”

  “What?” She cocked her head to the side and looked deep into his eyes. He was transfixed by her expression, exploring every nuance. The sexy arch of her brow. The curve of her lips when she was being serious. The way her jaw tensed when she was uneasy about what might come next.

  “You have all these people in your life. I’m wondering what that’s like. Maybe I’m ready for my first lesson.”

  “You think I have people in my life? Trust me I’m no expert on how to manage healthy relationships.” She leaned back and shook her head. “Who do I have?”

  “You don’t give yourself enough credit. I’ve seen the way people are around you. They love you in this incredibly devoted way. Layla and Kenan care a lot about you. I can tell. And you care for them.”

  “I do.”

  “And Kenan’s brothers. You guys all get together to eat once a week. You must talk. Share stuff. Especially Ben. He definitely cares about you, considering he’s willing to toss out any guys you don’t like with just a word from you. You’ve talked about their sister, Junie, and her husband, Hugo. Other people at Kinross Inc. I’m sure. And for all those years you had Gloria. That’s a long list of people who have your back. Just because you never ask them for any help doesn’t mean you’re alone in the world.”

  “Yeah, I guess. I’ve just never really thought about it like that. I’ve always looked at traditional family structures, and I’m lacking in that department. According to very skilled therapists over the years, it does something to a person to be abandoned without explanation. Your mother is supposed to love you. It’s intrinsic to the human experience. Most times in nature when a mother leaves behind her young it’s because of some kind of dysfunction she sees in them. Something unworthy. I’ve spent a lot of my life trying to be flawless. Trying not to let whatever my mother saw in me show up.”

  “That sounds like a very good therapist.”

  “Okay, it was more like a bartender I was dating, but he was going to night school for counseling.”

  “Well he was insightful.” Tray laughed. “And had amazing taste in women.”

  “I guess if you pair all that with how indifferent my father always seemed, it equates to a little girl who’s never ready to let her guard all the way down. But I’d do anything for the people in my life. I’d be there for whatever they need.”

  “You’ve got a village. Maybe it’s time to use them.”

  “I guess I do.” She grinned, and he watched as she let the realization seep in slowly. “I don’t know why I’ve been so reluctant to see that.”

  “I’m no bartender going to night school for counseling, but I’d like to take a crack at it.”

  Lauren crossed her arms. “I’ve got to hear this.”

  “I think because sometimes admitting you have people you care about feels like a challenge to the cosmos to come in and screw it up. The more people you have, the more you stand to lose. The more pain you open yourself up to.”

  “Interesting.” She gave a tiny knowing nod. “And when you don’t stay anywhere long enough, you don’t really have to worry about that. Sound familiar?”

  “A bit.”

  “Do you ever think of changing that?”

  “Change is a terribly overrated thing. So much work.”

  “You could start by maybe hanging around somewhere long enough to dare the cosmos to take its best shot at your happiness.”

  Is that an invitation to stay around with her longer?

  “Every once in a great while it crosses my mind.” He squeezed her arm a little. “But it’s a fleeting thought. I get to the crest of a mountain peak, look down over the world, and realize how good wandering feels.”

  “Of course. You’re a traveler. A real vagrant. Hobo. Tramp. ”

  “Do you have a pocket thesaurus you pull out for just such an occasion? For the record, I prefer to consider myself a connoisseur of all the world has to offer. Hobo is a mischaracterization of my lifestyle.”

  “A connoisseur? I’m sure you’ve done your share of sampling the local delicacies.” She nudged her elbow into his ribs.

  He blustered at the jab and then fell serious. “The only regret I have, because I usually don’t allow myself such useless things, is about my mother. I wonder if she would have a different life if I’d come around more. When I was a kid there wasn’t much I could do. As I got older, I could have gone back more. Checked in. Tried to understand what was happening in her life.”

  “You’l
l never be able to answer that question. I’ve nearly suffocated in what-ifs over the years. Trust me, it’s never helpful; you can’t change the past. But you can make sure that in a year, in ten years, you don’t have to ask yourself the same questions again. There’s no reason you can’t find out what being in your mother’s life now would mean for her future. And for yours.”

  “I guess I could give you the same advice about being in your mother’s life.”

  “You could.” She shrugged. “But I’d probably slug you. I don’t think it’s worth the risk to that perfectly symmetrical face of yours. Those bikini-clad women in Panama wouldn’t like your nose if it were all lumpy and broken. You have to think about that.”

  “It’s funny, I’m not thinking about Panama. Or Belize or Portugal.”

  “No?” She laced her fingers with his. “So what are you thinking about?”

  He looked out at the thick gray clouds blanketing the sky. “I’m thinking about how I can help get the sun to come out again.”

  Chapter 19

  Lauren

  * * *

  This wasn’t exactly how she wanted to experience Italy for the first time. But the company wasn’t bad. Tray was one of those men who led. Not in a patronizing way. He was well-traveled. Confident. And that allowed Lauren to relax. To know he had it all covered. Something she didn’t often experience. Turning her mind off wasn’t a luxury she experienced often.

  “What’s going through that beautiful mind of yours?” He ran his hand through her hair as the car bumped its way down the dirt road. The town was a small lake village on the northwest coast of Italy. Quaint. Quiet. Lauren stared out the window, trying to drink in even the most remote detail. How many times had Gloria driven down this winding road? How many times had her mother?

  “I’m wondering what the hell we’re going to find.”

  “In a few minutes you’ll have your answer.”

  The driver, a stout man with dusty hands and a crooked hat, looked up at them in the rearview mirror.

  “Have you been to the Isola San Verde Lago estate before Mr. and Mrs. Hallenburn?” His thick Italian accent was beautiful. So much so that she could look past Tray again telling everyone they were newlyweds. He was trying to get a rise out of her. Maybe offer some levity to this stressful moment?

  “We haven’t,” Lauren answered, still staring off into the distant mountains.

  The driver shifted in his seat. “And you’re meeting someone? Someone there is expecting you?”

  “Why do you ask?” Tray’s body language changed enough to draw Lauren back to the moment.

  “I’m one of the only drivers in town. Usually I transport people from the airport to Isola San Verde Lago. And there is a protocol.”

  “Protocol?” Lauren asked, leaning forward to get a better look at the driver.

  “What kind of protocol?”

  “Someone to meet you by the boat. The people I drive usually have the instructions. Otherwise, I’m not to take anyone there.”

  “It’s private property or something?” Lauren asked, her voice sharp and annoyed. Maybe it was exhaustion from the flight. Or frustration at yet another road block.

  The driver frowned. “Why are you here?”

  “How is that any of your business?” Lauren’s nostrils flared with anger as Tray placed a calming hand on her back.

  “We’re family. My mother is part owner of the property. We’ve come to check it out.”

  “Check it out?” the driver asked skeptically. “Still you should have been given some sort of instructions. That’s how this always works.”

  Tray and Lauren exchanged curious looks as Lauren tried to press for more information. “How often do you drive people here?”

  “Frequently enough to know how it all works.”

  “What people?” Tray asked, his voice growing more concerned. “Who else visits the Isola San Verde Lago estate?”

  The driver cleared his throat nervously. “I’m afraid I’ve said too much already. If you really are family to the owners, you must call them. They’ll have to give you more information. I cannot.” He pulled the car to the side of the road and stared straight ahead.

  “We’re not calling them,” Lauren said, folding her arms across her chest. “I am not going to beg my mother for permission to see something Gloria left for me. I’m not playing these games.”

  “I’m sorry, Mrs. Hallenburn,” the driver reported. “I’ll need to take you back to the airport then.”

  “How about I just get out of this car and walk the rest of the way?” She raised a brow and dared him to stop her. If she was alone she would never be this bold. But Tray could certainly deal with the driver while she made a break for the property. At this point she’d swim there if she had to.

  “I wouldn’t be able to stop you,” the driver admitted quietly. “I certainly don’t want to get in a scuffle with your husband here. I’ve got a bad back.”

  “Then we’ll walk there.” She looked at Tray and he nodded. He was in. They were doing this. Doing it together.

  The driver turned in his chair. “I can’t stop you, but you’ll never get by the guards. You do not want to cross them. They are unforgiving in performing their duties.”

  “Guards?” Tray asked, sounding dumbfounded. “Why are there guards on site? The owners are not even there. I didn’t get the impression the town we just passed through was in any way a threat. It looked like fishermen and shopkeepers.”

  “Our town is a very safe place,” the driver said, looking insulted. “Generations of peaceful lives.”

  “Then why the guards?” Lauren pressed. “What’s going on in there? I demand to know.”

  “The mouse can demand the lion bow, but he will not.” The driver, looking pleased with himself, put the car in gear. “Shall I drive you to the boat to take your chances with the guards, or would you like to make a phone call?”

  “Tray?” Lauren whispered, desperate for him to decide. To intervene and fix all this. They couldn’t possibly come all this way just to turn around and fly back to Boston empty-handed.

  “I can call my mother,” Tray offered. “I know it’s not what you wanted, but I don’t see what choice we have. I’m happy to go down swinging with a bunch of guards, but I’m not sure that’s our best course of action.”

  “I don’t want to call them.” She put her head in her hands and groaned. “They could just as easily shut us down and we’re back where we started.”

  “They could. Or they could call the guards and tell them to let us in.”

  “We’ll lose the element of surprise.” Her words made the driver’s back shoot arrow straight and his thick bushy brow crease. “It’s not what it sounds like.” Her attempts at assuring him didn’t seem to make an impact. He put the car in gear and began to turn it around.

  “Where are you going?”

  “I’m sorry,” the driver apologized in words only. Nothing about his tone sounded apologetic. “You can’t be here. You must go back to the airport. No trouble or I’ll call the police.”

  “Is there a hotel or a place we can stay?” Tray asked, defeated and tired. “We’ll stay in town. We’re not going to cause any trouble.”

  The driver sighed loudly. “There is an inn. I can take you to it. But I suggest you start making arrangements to leave as soon as possible.”

  “Or else what?” Lauren snapped out.

  The driver didn’t reply. He drove in silence back to the town and pulled quickly to the curb in front of the Greentop Inn. “Miss Cleo will help you. Tell her Mr. Chippy Brooks sent you.”

  The words lodged in Lauren’s ear—somehow important but she couldn’t remember why.

  “Thank you,” Tray said, offering the man a generous cash tip, but he waved it off and spoke some angry words in Italian.

  “Chippy Brooks,” Lauren whispered to herself as she looked up at the Inn. “That means something. I’ve heard it before. I know I have.”

  “Isn’t it
the driver’s name?” Tray grabbed their two bags and ushered her inside.

  “I don’t think so.” They moved to the small front desk where a woman sat grumbling at a half completed crossword puzzle.

  “Hello,” Tray began. “We’re looking for a room.”

  “For the night?” the woman asked, her glasses perched low on her nose, her wrinkles growing deeper as she inspected them.

  “We’re not going to stay over,” Lauren said, looking at Tray curiously.

  “I’m Patria. I own this establishment, and I don’t rent rooms by the hour. We’re not a brothel.” Her large flowery print dress hung far too loose on her skin-and-bones frame.

  “Chippy Brooks sent us,” Lauren said cautiously. If that meant anything at all to Patria, she didn’t let on.

  “A room for the night or not?”

  “Yes,” Tray replied grumpily. He seemed worried she was ruining the little bit of hope he’d begun placing in the idea of fixing things with his mother. They wouldn’t be home in time for the gallery opening now.

  “I’m sorry,” Lauren said, reaching for his arm.

  “Why?” he asked, perking up. “You have nothing to be sorry for. You’re not the one with the mystery castle on some haunted-looking island that has to be patrolled by armed guards. I’m transitioning from the curious phase into the pissed off phase. But not at you.”

  Her heart lifted with relief. Their situation may have gone from bad to worse, but they were still in it together.

  Patria tossed a key unceremoniously at Tray and pointed to the stairs. “Third door on the left.”

  “Grazie,” Tray offered, but it was met with a look of distain. “Okay,” he said, stretching the word out and grabbing their bags. “I guess if you’re the only place in town you don’t have to worry about reviews.”

  The room had an old-world feel but was more spacious than Lauren had expected. If someone had told her last week she’d be in some quiet town in Northern Italy with a gorgeous man, she would’ve welcomed the thought of the adventure. But the circumstances were all wrong. Complicated and messy. All the things Tray had already explained he hated.