The Girl of His Dreams

by Susan Mallery

  He didn’t love her. Not romantically. It wasn’t supposed to matter, but it did.

  “You ready to head back to the clinic?” he asked.

  She nodded, not sure she trusted her voice. If she spoke, she might give something away. She couldn’t have said what that “something” was; she only knew she must keep it from Patrick.

  Poor Kayla, always living in a fantasy world. Poor Kayla, trapped in a hospital bed while other children could run and play. Poor Kayla, with no real career, no boyfriend, no plans for the future except to go to Paris and marry a prince.

  Poor Kayla, who got crazy for a moment and thought her best friend might love her. She tried to laugh at the notion, but all that came out was a weak squeak. If he noticed, he didn’t say anything.

  Patrick didn’t love her, and she didn’t love him. Why would she? They’d had a great night together, nothing more. Passion had grown slowly between them. It hadn’t been like a tornado, so it wasn’t real.

  Get over it, she told herself. Paris awaits.

  ***

  The expensive stuff went down easy, Patrick thought as he held the bottle of Chivas Regal up to the light. He wasn’t exactly drunk. As long as he didn’t try to get up and walk, he would be fine.

  He turned his head and looked at the photograph lying on the coffee table in his living room. The picture of his father had been taken twenty years ago. A thin, preoccupied man standing in front of an anemic Christmas tree. Tiny lights glowed in an assortment of colors, making the man’s skin pasty by comparison.

  “You weren’t having a good time then, were you, Dad?” Patrick asked aloud. “You hated the holidays. Hell, you hated every day. And I hated you for that.”

  He brought the bottle to his lips and swallowed another mouthful. “It was like living with someone already dead. You walked through the room just like you were alive, but there were times I swore I could see right through you. I called you a lot of names back then. I thought you were a coward and a loser. I thought you were weak.”

  His eyes burned as he stared at the photograph. There were so few. The family had never taken many pictures. After Patrick’s mother died, his father hadn’t seen anything but the past.

  “I hated that, too,” he went on. “I knew that I wasn’t enough. That without her, you had no reason to live. Sometimes I wanted to grab you and shake you, all the while screaming that I was still alive. That I mattered.”

  He leaned back in the chair and sighed. “I never got it. I never realized how much you loved Mom. I’m sorry about all those things I said and thought. I’m sorry I didn’t try harder to get close to you.”

  His gaze focused on the picture. Maybe it was the alcohol, but he almost felt as if his father could hear him. “I understand now. Life doesn’t give you a choice. You can’t pick who you’re going to love, or when that love is going to strike. And if it’s not destined to be, there’s not a damn thing you can do except walk through the days, as empty and transparent as a ghost.”

  He glanced down at his lap, half expecting to be able to see through his body to the pattern of the chair. His legs were solid.

  For now, he thought, taking another swallow. But, like his father, he’d fallen in love with a woman who couldn’t stay. And, like his father, he would spend the rest of his life walking from room to room, waiting for the pain to end.

  Fallon linked her arm through Kayla’s. “We’ll come with you.”

  Kayla had spent the past couple of days trying to act normal, but it was getting difficult. With both sisters staying in her small apartment, there wasn’t much privacy, and there was even less time alone to think. She kept telling herself that if she could just sit quietly somewhere, she would be able to understand everything that was going on.

  But before she could say that she would be happy to wait in the foyer, Fallon was already pulling her along toward the back of the restaurant.

  The Empress Cafe sat on the water. To the left, the bridge to Coronado rose up like a beautiful piece of abstract art. As usual for July, no clouds marred the perfection of the deep blue sky. As the sun crept toward the horizon, the colors would change, but never lose their intensity.

  “Just think,” Elissa called over her shoulder. “Forty-eight hours from now you’ll be in Paris.”

  “I can’t wait,” Kayla said automatically, then frowned as Elissa reached the back of the restaurant and turned left. “The bathrooms are to the right,” she told her.

  Elissa kept on walking.

  “They’ve remodeled,” Fallon said, and patted her arm.

  “How do you know?”

  “The hostess mentioned it.”

  “I didn’t hear her say that.”

  Fallon arched her eyebrows. “Are you going to be cranky the whole evening? Because if you are, we’re not going to pay for your dinner.”

  They paused in front of an unmarked door. “I didn’t know you were considering it.”

  Fallon grinned. “Mind your manners and you just might be pleasantly surprised.”

  Elissa pulled open the door.

  “This is not the bathroom,” Kayla said loudly.

  “You’re so right.”

  Elissa stepped out of the way, and Fallon tugged Kayla into a darkened room. Kayla resisted, uneasy about the situation. Then her sister released her arm. Lights flashed on and a large group of people yelled, “Surprise!”

  Kayla knew her mouth was hanging open, but she couldn’t get herself together enough to close it. The large room at the back of the restaurant had been decorated for a going-away party. Balloons swayed from chair backs and table centerpieces. A badly drawn mural of Paris covered most of one wall. On a window facing an amazing view of the ocean, someone had written We’ll Miss You, Kayla. Have A Good Time And Kick Some Royal Butt.

  The round tables had been covered with red-and-white-checked tablecloths, French music flowed from speakers. But while the decorations were terrific, what really touched her was the group of people smiling at her.

  In addition to her sisters were the staff from the clinic, including Jo, Cheryl and Melissa. Kayla ignored the twinge she felt knowing the beautiful vet would be around to comfort Patrick while she was gone. Assuming he was going to miss her.

  Mr. Peters, Mrs. Grisham and other residents from Sunshine Village waved when she noticed them. Sarah sat in a wheelchair, a thick lap robe covering her frail legs. There were several families who had adopted pets from her, including Allison’s parents, Duchess’s owners, and Paul, the former football player. She wondered if his cat still ran his life.

  Elissa and Fallon came up and hugged her.

  “Okay, so dinner was just an excuse to get you here,” Elissa said. “Are you surprised?”

  “Very.” Kayla couldn’t stop looking at the crowd of people. “I can’t believe you guys put this all together for me.

  Sarah pushed a button on her electric wheelchair and moved forward. “We love you, child,” she said, taking Kayla’s hand. “We’re going to miss you, but we all want you to have a wonderful adventure.”

  “Thank you.” Kayla bent down and kissed her cheek.

  “Hey, let’s turn off this hokey French music and play some real tunes,” Mr. Peters demanded.

  “You’re a cranky old man,” Mrs. Grisham told him, slapping his hand. “We’re setting a mood.”

  “But I saw a jukebox in the corner. We could jitterbug.”

  Mrs. Grisham raised dark eyebrows. “At your age?” She laughed. “You’d strain something.”

  Mr. Peters leaned close to her. “Then we could play doctor and patient.”

  Mrs. Grisham rolled her eyes, but Kayla noticed she didn’t move away or scold him again. Romance at Sunshine Village?

  The crowd surrounded her. As she greeted people, Fallon and Elissa explained how they’d planned the party.

  “We started about two months ago,” Elissa said. “I spoke to Cheryl at Patrick’s clinic, and she agreed to take care of collecting RSVPs from the guests.”


  She continued talking about the logistics, but Kayla wasn’t listening. As she shook hands with Allison’s parents and nodded as they told her how well their daughter was doing, a part of her brain repeated a single phrase over and over. As if a needle had become stuck on an old record.

  Where was Patrick?

  She scanned the crowd, but he wasn’t around.

  When she could escape, she grabbed Elissa and pulled her into a corner. “Is Patrick supposed to be here?”

  Elissa nodded. Her eyebrows drew together in a frown. “I don’t understand why he’s late. I confirmed a couple of things with him this morning, and everything was fine. Maybe there was a last-minute emergency at the clinic.”

  “I’m sure that’s it,” Kayla said, even though the knot in her stomach told her it was something else. There was a problem with Patrick. She could feel it.

  She thought about phoning the clinic, then figured that if he was in the middle of surgery, she wouldn’t want to disturb him. So she tried to ignore her concern and get into the spirit of the party.

  While waiters circulated with trays of appetizers and drinks, Elissa led Kayla to a chair in the center of the room. Presents had been piled high.

  Kayla stared at the proof of her friends’ generosity and had to swallow. “You guys are going to make me cry.”

  “You’ll spoil your makeup,” Jo warned.

  “True.”

  Fallon handed her a small rectangular box. “Open this first.”

  Kayla tore off the paper and laughed when she saw the disposable camera inside. “Is this for the party?” she asked.

  Fallon nodded. “You can use it tonight, then take it in to a one-hour place tomorrow. That way you’ll have photos to remember us while you’re seducing Prince Albert.”

  Kayla raised the camera and took a picture of the entire group. Everyone got into the spirit, suggesting shots, posing for her. Cheryl had a camera of her own and instructed the triplets to line up together.

  “Amazing,” Sarah said as the women stood next to each other. “They’re nearly exactly alike.”

  “Yes, but I’m prettier,” Fallon teased.

  “You are not,” Kayla and Elissa answered together.

  When Cheryl had taken her photo, Kayla watched her sisters move around the room, talking to guests. They didn’t know anyone here, yet they were friendly and gracious, and so completely different, Kayla didn’t know how people could confuse them.

  Fallon, always tailored, always correct, wore a royal blue sheath. The sleeveless dress ended precisely two inches above her knees. Elissa, the true romantic, dressed in pastel pink. A scoop-neck, capped-sleeved, gauzy two-piece outfit hugged her from shoulders to waist before flaring out in gentle pleats to fall nearly to her ankles. The dress swayed when she walked.

  Kayla had picked out a simple silk T-shirt and a short straight skirt, both in purple. She hadn’t bothered with stockings and wore flats instead of heels. Usually she didn’t care about jewelry, but tonight she wore the bracelet Patrick had given her.

  Her sisters continued to make sure their guests were comfortable. Kayla watched, realizing that it wasn’t just clothing that told them apart. Even their hairstyles identified their personalities. Fallon had a French braid, Elissa piled her curls on top of her head, while Kayla wore her hair loose.

  To her, the differences were much more than physical. And those differences were what made them unique.

  “There are other presents,” Sarah said, pointing to the pile on the floor. “Have a seat and get at it.”

  ***

  An hour later, Kayla was surrounded by crumpled sheets of wrapping paper and a stack of wonderful gifts. She had everything she would need for her travels. From a voltage changer for her blow dryer and curling iron, to a phrase book, to a pillow for sleeping on the plane. There were maps of Paris and France, clever travel kits with sewing supplies and medical goodies, a current French newspaper, a travel-size cassette player with several new tapes, and a beautiful hand-crocheted shawl from Sarah.

  The largest gift, a set of luggage, had been opened, although the giver hadn’t arrived. For the hundredth time, Kayla scanned the room and wondered what was keeping Patrick.

  After dinner, Mr. Peters got his wish. The French music faded, and he picked the first tune from the jukebox. Instead of Glenn Miller, most of the songs were from the fifties and sixties. After pushing the tables aside, most of the guests pulled off their shoes and danced in the center of the room.

  “You guys are too young to remember the sixties,” Cheryl said, demonstrating the mashed potato.

  “So are you,” Kayla countered.

  “Yeah, but I’m the youngest of six, and I watched my brothers and sisters very closely.”

  They laughed and danced, arms swinging in the air, hips swaying, feet shifting. A whisper of warmth brushed the back of her neck, and Kayla spun around.

  He wasn’t close enough to have touched her. From the way he glanced around the room, he hadn’t even spotted her yet. But he was here, now, and that was enough.

  Kayla started walking toward him. She knew the exact moment he spotted her. His solemn face relaxed into a smile.

  “Hi,” she said, when she was a few feet away.

  “Hi, yourself.”

  For a second, she wondered if he was going to reject her tonight. She hesitated, rather than offering him a hug. He eased her mind when he held open his arms.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “How many for dinner?” the hostess asked.

  Fallon glanced at Kayla. “Patrick’s going to meet us here, right?”

  “That’s what he said,” she answered, trying to sound cheerful. She didn’t know anything about Patrick anymore, but she assumed he would at least be coming to her farewell dinner.

  “Four,” Fallon said. “And we’d like a table by the water.”

  The hostess nodded and made a note on her clipboard. “There’s about a thirty-minute wait,” she said, handing Fallon a small square pager. “This will buzz when your table’s ready.”

  “Thanks.” The three of them stepped back from the small desk.

  “I need to visit the ladies’ room,” Elissa said. “You two want to wait or come with me?”

  Fallon linked her arm through Kayla’s. “We’ll come with you.”

  Kayla had spent the past couple of days trying to act normal, but it was getting difficult. With both sisters staying in her small apartment, there wasn’t much privacy, and there was even less time alone to think. She kept telling herself that if she could just sit quietly somewhere, she would be able to understand everything that was going on.

  But before she could say that she would be happy to wait in the foyer, Fallon was already pulling her along toward the back of the restaurant.

  The Empress Cafe sat on the water. To the left, the bridge to Coronado rose up like a beautiful piece of abstract art. As usual for July, no clouds marred the perfection of the deep blue sky. As the sun crept toward the horizon, the colors would change, but never lose their intensity.

  “Just think,” Elissa called over her shoulder. “Forty-eight hours from now you’ll be in Paris.”

  “I can’t wait,” Kayla said automatically, then frowned as Elissa reached the back of the restaurant and turned left. “The bathrooms are to the right,” she told her.

  Elissa kept on walking.

  “They’ve remodeled,” Fallon said, and patted her arm.

  “How do you know?”

  “The hostess mentioned it.”

  “I didn’t hear her say that.”

  Fallon arched her eyebrows. “Are you going to be cranky the whole evening? Because if you are, we’re not going to pay for your dinner.”

  They paused in front of an unmarked door. “I didn’t know you were considering it.”

  Fallon grinned. “Mind your manners and you just might be pleasantly surprised.”

  Elissa pulled open the door.

  “This is not the bathr
oom,” Kayla said loudly.

  “You’re so right.”

  Elissa stepped out of the way, and Fallon tugged Kayla into a darkened room. Kayla resisted, uneasy about the situation. Then her sister released her arm. Lights flashed on and a large group of people yelled, “Surprise!”

  Kayla knew her mouth was hanging open, but she couldn’t get herself together enough to close it. The large room at the back of the restaurant had been decorated for a going-away party. Balloons swayed from chair backs and table centerpieces. A badly drawn mural of Paris covered most of one wall. On a window facing an amazing view of the ocean, someone had written We’ll Miss You, Kayla. Have A Good Time And Kick Some Royal Butt.

  The round tables had been covered with red-and-white-checked tablecloths, French music flowed from speakers. But while the decorations were terrific, what really touched her was the group of people smiling at her.

  In addition to her sisters were the staff from the clinic, including Jo, Cheryl and Melissa. Kayla ignored the twinge she felt knowing the beautiful vet would be around to comfort Patrick while she was gone. Assuming he was going to miss her.

  Mr. Peters, Mrs. Grisham and other residents from Sunshine Village waved when she noticed them. Sarah sat in a wheelchair, a thick lap robe covering her frail legs. There were several families who had adopted pets from her, including Allison’s parents, Duchess’s owners, and Paul, the former football player. She wondered if his cat still ran his life.

  Elissa and Fallon came up and hugged her.

  “Okay, so dinner was just an excuse to get you here,” Elissa said. “Are you surprised?”

  “Very.” Kayla couldn’t stop looking at the crowd of people. “I can’t believe you guys put this all together for me.

  Sarah pushed a button on her electric wheelchair and moved forward. “We love you, child,” she said, taking Kayla’s hand. “We’re going to miss you, but we all want you to have a wonderful adventure.”

  “Thank you.” Kayla bent down and kissed her cheek.

  “Hey, let’s turn off this hokey French music and play some real tunes,” Mr. Peters demanded.