A First Class Act

by Mildred Riley

  “Duly noted, sir,” she said, fastening her seatbelt.

  * * *

  Drew waited in the lobby of the administration building while Dina kept her scheduled appointment.

  When she retuned a half hour later, he was dismayed by the forlorn look on her face.

  “What happened?” he asked.

  She shook her head. “Bad economy, bad times, staff layoffs, etc, etc, but…I think it may have been my race.”

  “No, really?”

  “I saw the astonished look on the man’s face. ‘You’re Doctor Raines!’ and I knew that this was not the place for me. So I thanked him for his time and consideration and I left.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “Don’t be. It’s par for the course. I’m not surprised. In fact, I almost expected it.”

  “Dina, we have laws in this country against discrimination.”

  “We do, but there are ways, you know.”

  “I do know. Even on the team there are those who resent players who look like me, but soon enough they figure out that if they want to keep the job, earn high salaries, they have to get along with every team member. Come on,” he said, “let’s get out of this place.”

  He took her briefcase and led her out of the building to the parking lot. As he helped her into the car, he said to her, “Don’t you worry, Dina. You will find just the university that you want, that wants you!”

  “I hope so. I’ve tried to believe that things work out for the best. Besides,” she chuckled, “Maine weather can be very cold, you know.”

  “In more ways than one, if you get my drift.”

  “I get it, Drew. It’s all part of life. You take the good…and the bad. Works out somehow.”

  After she was settled in, seatbelt fastened, he returned to the driver’s seat, fastened his own seatbelt, and started the engine.

  Looking over at her, he said, “Dina, girl, I like your philosophy.”

  “Works for me.”

  They stopped at a roadside diner for something to eat.

  “Great, Drew,” Dina said. “I need to stretch my legs. How ’bout you?”

  “Yes, ma’am! I do need a pit stop.”

  There were booths along one wall and stools at the counter, where a middle-aged woman appeared to be in charge.

  The room was pleasantly decorated with fresh flowers in a bud vase on each table, cheerful chintz curtains at the windows, and several ceiling fans circulating the air.

  “Sit any place you like,” the woman said. “Someone will be right with you.”

  “Thank you,” Drew responded. He led Dina to a nearby booth.

  “Okay?”

  “Just fine,” she said, sliding onto the leather seat. He sat opposite her.

  The waitress showed up as they were seating themselves. She was a wisp of a girl who looked as if she might be in high school. She seemed very nervous with her pad and pen in hand.

  “I’m Chris. Today’s specials are clam chowder,” she pronounced it ‘chowdah,’ “and seafood salad.”

  She pointed to the menus printed on the placemats. “Of course, you can have anything on the menu.”

  “Will you give us a minute?” Drew asked.

  “Sure. Anything to drink?”

  She looked at Dina.

  “Iced tea, please.”

  “Iced coffee for me,” Drew told her.

  “Okay, be right back.”

  “Charming personality,” Drew observed.

  “Probably doing the best she can. Don’t figure there are many jobs for teens around here.”

  Within a few minutes she returned with their drinks.

  “Have you decided? Need more time?”

  “I think we’re ready. Dina?”

  “I’d like the specials, the clam chowder and the seafood salad, please.”

  “For me,” Drew told her, “I’d like to have the chowder and the sirloin tips.”

  “Mashed potatoes or rice?”

  “Rice, please.”

  “A house salad comes with that….”

  “I’ll have that with the house dressing,” he told her.

  The food was good, well prepared, and Drew remarked to Dina that he had not expected to enjoy the meal.

  “It’s kind of like home cooking, don’t you think?” he said.

  “Surely tastes like it. Unexpected, but I’m pleasantly surprised.”

  Drew left a sizable tip for the waitress, who gave him a bright smile of thanks.

  “That was generous of you, Drew.”

  “Living in a small country town is not easy, I’m sure.”

  “You’re probably right.”

  * * *

  It was almost three-thirty when they returned to Dina’s condo.

  “I want to thank you for taking me to my appointment today, Drew.”

  “It was my pleasure. No thanks needed, you know that.”

  “And for the nice lunch, as well.”

  “Only doing what I’m ’sposed to do for the woman I love….”

  “Thought I told you we’re just friends!”

  “You’re a friend I’m in love with, and don’t you forget it.”

  “Maybe I shouldn’t accept…”

  “Enough, enough! You’re not going to win this argument, so you might as well give in.”

  “What am I going to do with you?”

  “Love me, that’s what!”

  He led her to her front door, bent down to kiss her. “Call you in the morning. Love you. Remember, better days are coming!” And then he was gone, the taste of his kiss still lingering on her lips.

  This gentle giant, this wonderful football player, was beginning to affect her. She had not shied away from his kiss. Rather, she had expected, even welcomed it. What was happening to her?

  Was it his unselfish kindness to her, the fact that he persisted in caring for her, like sending Nora to be with her when she was pregnant with the Dineen baby?

  And his willingness to persist in the relationship despite her stubborn behavior? What was happening to her?

  What about her plans for her future? What if she never got the position she wanted so badly, had sacrificed so much to attain? Which path would she take?

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Dina received a message from a university in Connecticut, asking her to call to make an appointment for an interview. They were interested in her.

  Nora called her with her best wishes for the interview and was very interested in learning just how her relationship with Drew was progressing.

  “I know you are dying to know, my friend, but for now all I’ll say is that we have a warm relationship.”

  “Dina, don’t you know you have a real man in Drew? You’d better not let this intelligent, handsome, caring…”

  “Nora, please, I get it, I get it!”

  Nora’s voice was subdued when she answered, “See that you get him!”

  Dina replaced the phone, thinking, If it’s to be, it will be.

  Her thoughts went back to Drew. He had been a stalwart, decent friend to her, and she had to acknowledge to herself that she liked him very much. He was so different from other young men she had known over the years.

  She went downstairs and opened her front door. It was a beautiful morning, a cloudless sky, summer breezes moving leaves of the trees around the complex. Dina smiled at the early morning’s serenity.

  She took a deep breath, reached for her mailbox, and retrieved several bills and advertisements, as well as a business-sized envelope addressed to Dr. Claudina Raines.

  She walked into her living room, sat on the couch. Slowly she opened the envelope.

  Dear Dr. Raines:

  I am sure you are surprised to be receiving this letter, as surprised as I am to be writing it.

  I want you to know that the hardest thing I ever had to do was to give you away. I really did love you, but I was afraid that I could not give you the life you deserved, and I knew that your aunt and uncle could, and woul
d.

  Your mother and I loved you very much. We were so happy, but then my life was shattered when Graciana, your mother, died. I was devastated, did not know how I could go on.

  I’m not sure if it will be possible for you to forgive me, and I dare not ask you to do so.

  How did I find you? I can’t tell you how proud I am of the woman you have become. Imagine how I felt when I read about you as one of Black America’s Most Successful Young Women Under Thirty.

  I regret that I cannot take any credit for that, but believe me, I am extremely proud of you, realizing that you did it on your own.

  Your father,

  Henry Lawrence.

  Dina sat back on the couch, her face hot with anger. How dare this man try to come back into her life? She was ambivalent because, on one hand, she had sought to find him, to shame him over who she had managed to become without him, and here he was, able to beat her to the punch and daring to ask for forgiveness.

  Her hands shaking with anger, she read the letter again, then checked the return address on the envelope—someplace in Virginia.

  Still angry, she thought of tearing the letter to shreds. Suddenly, as if a dam had burst, hot tears fell. Her chest ached with the wrenching sobs that racked her body.

  She grabbed a pillow from the sofa, holding it to her abdomen, then fell back, prostrate, on the sofa.

  As she continued to sob in great gasps that almost choked her, she felt the vibration of her cell phone in the pocket of her robe.

  “Hel…hel…hello,” she stuttered.

  “Dina! What’s wrong? Why are you crying?”

  “Oh, Drew,” she wailed, “it’s my father….”

  “Your father? What about him?”

  “He wrote me a letter….”

  “And you’re crying? I’ll be right there! Sit tight.”

  “Thanks,” he heard her quavering voice say as he hung up the phone.

  Ten minutes later he was at her front door. She was dressed in slacks and a t-shirt, and her face showed signs of distress that broke Drew’s heart when he saw her.

  Sobbing, she fell into his arms.

  “Oh, Drew,” she moaned into his chest.

  “Don’t cry, everything’s going to be all right.”

  Walking her into her living room, he helped her sit down on the sofa. He sat beside her.

  “Tell me.”

  She picked up the letter from where she had tossed it on the coffee table.

  “Read this.” She thrust the hated letter into his hands.

  So he read it, slowly. When he had finished, he handed it back to her.

  “You’re crying because you’ve heard from your father?”

  He backed away from her as the fury, the anger that flared up in her eyes, startled him.

  “Don’t you understand, Drew? Of course I’m angry! After twenty-five years of not being in my life…he finds out that I am one of Black America’s Successful Women. Now, he wants to be my father…so, so he can throw me away again! No thank you!”

  “But Dina, he is your father.”

  “How can someone who knew you for two months be a father?” she insisted.

  “Because,” he said quietly, hoping to tamp down her anger, “because you know as well as I do that one half of your genetic material is from him.”

  She argued, “Just because he sired me does not make him a father.”

  “Oh, it does, and as a well-educated individual, you cannot refute scientific truth.”

  Anger still raged within her.

  “Drew Tyler, you have known your father all of your life, and I wouldn’t know this…this man,” she threw the letter on the coffee table, “if I saw him on the street.”

  It tore at Drew’s heart to see the woman he loved in such deep distress. He had to help her. But how?

  Better handle this carefully, he thought. This girl is in a lot of pain. Somehow I have to help her through this or…the unthinkable…I may lose her.

  “Dina, honey,” Drew pleaded, “please try to see this from your father’s point of view. He was a young man in love with his wife and extremely happy when that love was manifested by your birth. Then when your mother died, his world fell apart. He did the only thing he could do. He gave you up.”

  He could see that Dina was about to protest, but before she could interrupt, he forged ahead.

  “Think about it,” he pleaded. “How could he, a single father who had to work for a living, care for and raise an infant? He made the best decision he could. Didn’t put you in a foster home or an orphanage, but with your blood relative, your mother’s sister.”

  “He was a wimp, a coward!”

  “No, honey, he was a heartbroken man trying to survive. Listen to me, Dina. The fact that he wants your forgiveness should show you some measure of the man. And you should give him that gift that only you can give. The past is just that, past, gone, over, cannot come back. All any of us have is this moment. Yesterday has gone and tomorrow is not here. Don’t you see?” He extended his hand. “So please, for your own sake, be the wonderful, generous, loving woman that I love, and for your sake reach out to him. I know you can do it. You’ll find peace and happiness in your heart. That’s what I want for you, to be happy. That’s all I’ll ever want.”

  She faced him, tears sparkling in her eyes. Gently, with his thumb, he wiped her eyes. He understood full well the dilemma she faced.

  “Don’t cry, sweetheart. It’s going to be all right, I promise.”

  He pulled her close, her head on his chest. Her sobs quieted as he held her, and Dina felt the warmth and strength of the arms that enfolded her. Feelings of care and security overwhelmed her. The steady, strong beat of his heart reassured her.

  He cares about me.

  Overcome with the joy of having Dina in his arms, Drew turned her face up to kiss her. Savoring the sweetness of her lips, he began to explore the tender inner recesses of her mouth, circled her warm tongue with his own and was rewarded by a soft whimpering moan as she placed her hand at the back of his head to draw him closer. I need this. Somebody who cares about me. Just me, she thought as she allowed Drew to rain kisses all over her face, her eyes, her throat, and when his hand roamed under her t-shirt to caress her firm rounded breast, she grasped his shoulders like a drowning victim.

  She cried out, “Drew! Drew!” as if her heart were breaking.

  “Baby, I love you, love you,” he crooned, “and I’ll never let you hurt, not ever. I want to take care of you, love you until the day I die. Do you hear me?”

  “Yes, yes, I do hear you.”

  “Dina, say you love me.”

  She looked at him for a quick heartbeat, then with a long sigh placed her fingers on his face. He stared at her, breathlessly waiting for her answer

  “Yes, Drew, I do love you, I do.”

  He threw his head back for a loud yell. “Thank you, Jesus.” Then he held her as if to never let her go.

  * * *

  Changes came quickly after that. Drew’s parents were overjoyed by the news.

  Ross enveloped his daughter-in-law to be, saying, “Welcome to our family, Dina! Best news I’ve heard since I don’t know when!”

  Then he turned to Drew to shake his hand. “Well done, son, well done!”

  Vanessa, Drew’s mother, offered her arms to hug Dina.

  “I echo my husband, my dear. Welcome. I’ve wanted a daughter for so long!”

  Drew explained that they had not decided on a date, but both felt that sometime after the close of the current football season would work.

  “Dina is actively seeking a university teaching position, and, Dad, I’ve decided that this will be my last season with the Anchors.”

  “Okay, so what do you plan on doing?”

  “Earn my master’s in education, maybe coach.”

  “Sounds good to me. Good luck!”

  “Me, too,” Drew’s mother added. “Always worried about injuries…”

  “Not to worry, Mom. I�
�m always careful.”

  * * *

  Dina responded to her father’s letter with difficulty. Drew tried to help her by keeping her focused, reminding her that writing her father would help to heal the pain and hurt she had endured almost her whole life.

  “Make it brief and to the point,” he suggested. “Don’t blame him. Let him know that you do understand. Offer him peace of mind. And remember, hon, you, too, will benefit from this overture toward him. He is and always will be your dad, and you are here because of him and your mother. That counts for a whole lot.”

  She nodded slowly, agreeing with what Drew had said.

  “I know, Drew, that you are right. But I don’t even know how to address him! Do I call him father, dad…?”

  “How did he sign the letter to you?”

  “ ‘Your father, Henry Lawrence.’ ”

  “Address him the same way, then.”

  * * *

  Dina could not bring herself to do as Drew suggested. To write the letter was difficult enough.

  Mr. Lawrence, she wrote, you will have to forgive me for not addressing you as father. When I lost the only father I knew, I was devastated.

  On reading your letter I do find that I can understand a little of why you felt you had to give me away. As I think of it now, you had little choice in the matter.

  However, I find it difficult to understand your silence of twenty-five years.

  Perhaps someday we will meet and try to reconcile the past and create a future.

  Sincerely,

  Dina Raines.

  She thought about sending a picture of herself. She felt ambivalent about the gesture, but after some thought, slipped a small photo, a head shot, into the envelope.

  When she told Drew that she had finally sent the letter, he said to her, “Congratulations! Feel better?”

  “Yes, I do. You were right. It’s really a chapter of my life that had to be addressed. And I hope there may be a positive outcome, if and when I do meet him.”

  “Well, I know one thing,” he said. “It will be a fantastic moment for each of you. I can’t wait.”

  “I hope so.”

  They were having coffee in her kitchen that Sunday morning, a ritual after Drew’s football practice sessions.

  She reached across the table to grasp his hand, warm and firm in hers.

  “It’s because you are the man you are. You have taught me more about life and living than I learned with my doctoral studies. You’ve taught me what life is truly about…taking the bitter with the sweet, and living one day at a time. Right?”