“Some ship. They’re in a storm.”
Randy lowered his razor and stared at her in the mirror.
“A rather lovely one, she said. She was calling from the bow.”
Randy laughed, rinsed his razor, made one last pass down his neck, and reached for the towel.
Dawn handed it to him. “She’s going to stay with me for the weekend. She says under the circumstances, she doesn’t want to be at Uncle Matt and Aunt Rebecca’s.”
Randy nodded, wondering where that left him. “You were able to understand all that?”
Dawn shrugged. “Most of it. She’s says she’s looking forward to meeting you.” She ran her eyes over the deeply defined muscles across his shoulders and arms as he hung up the towel and reached for his shirt. “Are you on call this weekend?”
“No, tonight and tomorrow.”
Dawn smiled, watching him as he slipped on his shirt and then combed his hair.
“Who’s side of the family is your Aunt Maeve on?”
“My father’s,” Dawn said, and though she probably didn’t realize it, she’d said it defensively. “Why? Why do you ask?”
“I don’t know, just curious,” Randy said. “Does that mean she’s a Bask-Fioritto then?”
Dawn stared. “Yes,” she said, and turned to leave.
Randy stopped her. “Which means...?”
Dawn raised her eyes and hesitated. He was doing this on purpose to see if she’d answer, to see if she’d hold anything back. “Which means she’s my father’s full sister.”
“And that’s all?”
“That’s all.”
Chapter Thirty-One
“Well I’ll be go to hell.” Tom’s mouth dropped. “Dawn! Dawn, come see!”
Dawn stuck her head out of one of the stalls, warily, not knowing what to expect, took one look, and smiled. It was Ben, in his wheelchair, with Gloria behind him and James Martin at his side.
“How in the...?” Tom fought back the urge to run down the shedrow and hug the old man, walking instead. “How’d you get here?”
Dawn hurried down and asked the same thing.
“I came with Gloria,” he said, matter-of-factly. “We’re doing occupational therapy. Where’s this Fred at?”
Tom and Dawn glanced around. He was always underfoot. “Here,” Fred said, from the first stall, where he’d been brushing off the filly. “Hi!”
Ben said hi, sized the kid up, and motioned to the tack room doorway. “Can you build me a ramp here?”
“Sure,” Fred said, as if he did that type of thing all the time. “How wide?”
Ben looked at him. “How about as wide as the doorway?”
“Great! Where do I get the wood?”
Ben glanced at Dawn and Tom; an acknowledgment of what they’d been talking about in reference to this kid, and smiled. “Help me,” he told Tom, nodding toward the tack room. Dave appeared with donuts at this point and a lot of laughing and joking followed, just like old times.
Ben was in heaven at his desk, and Gloria, thrilled to be able to help. It was lonely without Charlie around the house during the day. At least this would give her something to do with her mornings. Dawn realized now why Ben wanted to contact her, and was enormously grateful, even more so when Gloria tasted the coffee and promptly shuddered.
“Oh my. Who made this?”
Everyone turned to Fred. He shrugged. “Why? What’s wrong with it? I don’t drink it.”
Tom stared and told him to quit making it then, “Please!” And everyone laughed, James Martin included, who said the coffee tasted fine to him, and gulped the rest of his cup.
“Where’s Ginney’s barn, by the way?” he asked.
“I’ll take you there.” Tom walked with him as far as the restrooms. “Two barns down and to your left. They’re in the annex.”
James looked at him.
“The far end,” Tom said, and went into the men’s room, where he leaned over the sink and splashed cold water on his face. He stared at his reflection in the mirror, a dirty mirror with streaks all over it, and remembered a time years ago, and how whenever he looked in a mirror, he hated what he saw so much, he wanted to shatter it to pieces.
“Take me,” he’d said to God, when that boy’s life hung in the balance. “Take me. Not him.”
He glanced in the trash, took out a discarded coffee cup, filled it with water, and splashed it against the glass, did it again, and wiped the mirror down. “There,” he said, and dried his hands and walked back to the barn.
“Where the hell you been?” Fred asked. “I was looking all over for you.”
Tom looked at him and laughed. “I was in the friggin’ john. What, you want to hold my hand next time?”
Fred blushed. All he’d wanted to know was where the hammer was kept. But Tom started singing, “I want to hold your hand,” adding his own version of the words, and Fred laughed. This was a side of Tom he hadn’t seen yet, and a lot more fun.
“This must be family week,” Randy said, arriving at Dawn’s apartment the evening of Aunt Maeve’s expected stay. He handed Dawn a letter from his mom, and headed into the kitchen for a beer. When he opened the refrigerator, he was surprised to find it stocked with food, snack food actually on closer inspection, and quite a variety.
“What’s this?” he said.
Dawn glanced up from reading the letter and smiled. “They’re Aunt Maeve’s.”
Randy nodded, walked back in, and sat down across from her. The newlyweds, Cindy and Marvin, were doing fine, according to his mother. Back from the honeymoon, they were both working and studying, and settling into a married routine. And Randy’s father’s burns were almost completely healed. He still needed an additional skin graft between his right thumb and forefinger, a sensitive area which had rejected the last one, but aside from that, all was well. “Aunt Helen sends both of you her love,” she wrote, referring to him and Dawn. “And so do your mother and father. Write, or at least call. Love, Mom.”
Dawn folded it neatly, smiled, and handed it back to him. There were numerous references to her in the letter, and it felt nice to be included, warm. At the same time though, she felt a longing for her own mother and father.
“Well? When’s she coming? Your Aunt Maeve?”
“Soon.” The plan was for the three of them to go out to dinner and become acquainted. “I don’t know when we’re going to find time to go shopping tomorrow.”
“For what?” Randy slugged a mouthful of beer. “My dinner jacket? It’s done. Can I wear it with a turtleneck?”
Dawn looked surprised. “When did you go?”
“This afternoon.”
“Where?”
“Shumann Brothers. It’s navy blue, a perfect fit, and if I don’t wear it for the whole night, I can return it.”
Dawn laughed. He was kidding. “Come on, seriously.”
“I am serious, except for the part about returning it.”
Aunt Maeve swept in like a whirlwind. “It’s so nice to finally meet. I’ve heard so much about you,” she said, shaking Randy’s hand, and with a rather firm handshake at that.
“It’s nice to meet you too,” Randy said, and meant it. The woman reminded him of Katherine Hepburn; billowy clothes, layers and layers it appeared, hair piled on top of her head and no jewelry. “How was your cruise?”
“Wonderful,” Aunt Maeve said. “Though I’m still a little wobbly in the knees.”
“Here, sit down,” Dawn said.
“Thank you, dear. Thank you. Did my goodies arrive?”
“Yes, this afternoon.”
Randy sat down across from them and smiled at the similarities in their appearance. Not so much their features, but their mannerisms and the look in their eyes.
Aunt Maeve loved to talk, and loved to eat. “I’ve had the best and the worst,” she said to Randy, and cringed at a recent memory. “Stewed peanut chicken, every day for two weeks. In line behind the men I might add. May I never eat fowl again.”
&
nbsp; When the valet brought up Aunt Maeve’s luggage, Randy carried it down the hall to Linda’s bedroom for her. She said she wanted to lie down for a little while and freshen up, and emerged twenty minutes later ready to go.
“Well, where to?”
They decided on a restaurant which was one of her favorites whenever she was in town. “It’s a cross between Mexican and Chilean,” she said, smiling as she recalled another distant and much more pleasant culinary experience. “Hot tamales to die for.”
Randy laughed, and would continue to laugh throughout the night, beginning with the type of car Aunt Maeve drove, a Jeep, complete with canvas top and roll bar. And the way she climbed in behind the wheel, no muss, no fuss, and ground the gears when shifting. In fact, Randy was so taken by her, he didn’t notice Dawn becoming quieter and quieter as the evening rolled on.
“Well, you know,” Aunt Maeve said to him, in response to his question about the Basks. “It’s a long story.”
Dawn excused herself to go to the ladies room. “Aunt Maeve...?” she said, hoping she would come with her, which she did.
“Dawnetta, what’s the matter?”
Dawn fluffed her hair and shook her head. “Nothing.”
“Nothing?” She touched Dawn lightly on the cheek. “I haven’t accompanied you to the ladies room since you were about six years old and told me you were, ‘plenty old enough, thank you.’”
Dawn smiled. “I just get nervous when Randy asks so much about the family.”
“So much?” Aunt Maeve studied her eyes. “One question?”
“No, two. He asked earlier about Nana,” which was the way Maeve had referred to her mother. “Remember?”
Aunt Maeve shook her head. “Oh, Dawnetta...” She put her arms around Dawn and hugged her gently. “What are you afraid of?”
“I don’t know. He just keeps asking.”
Maeve pulled back to look into her eyes again. “There’s no harm in that.”
Dawn shrugged. There were things even Aunt Maeve didn’t understand, didn’t know. “You’re right.” She smiled, and changed the subject, somewhat. “So what do you think of him?”
“Randy? I like him. He’s uh, how do you say, drop-dead gorgeous.”
Dawn laughed.
“And so nice.”
At the apartment, Aunt Maeve said she was tired and going straight to bed, bid them good-night and, vanished. It was past Dawn’s bedtime as well, so Randy prepared himself to leave. He kissed Dawn, then kissed her again, and didn’t want to go.
“What if we just wait a few minutes,” he said, “and just quietly walk down the hall?”
Dawn smiled, but shook her head.
“Come on,” he said. “Where does she think Linda is anyway?”
“At home,” Dawn replied. “Because that’s where she is, for tonight and tomorrow.”
Randy smiled and tried again. “How do I love thee,” he whispered softly, gazing into her eyes. “Let me show you the ways.”
Dawn chuckled, told him to leave, and kissed him at the door. “You are going home, aren’t you?” she asked.
He nodded. “Call me. In about a half hour,” he said, which she did, curled up in bed, lying on his pillow, and missing him.
Ben couldn’t put into words how good it felt being back at the racetrack, even if it was only for an hour or so a day, and couldn’t thank Gloria enough. If it weren’t for her...
“When are we running Cajun again?” she asked.
Ben smiled, remembering back when, and shook his head. “We’ll see.” The smell of lilac overwhelmed him, made him think of life, flowers, and the smell of Meg’s clean skin. “We’ll see.” He had another thought then, as he watched All Together and Cajun on the walking machine, listened, and heard the sounds around him. If and when I do die, let me die right here. That’s how happy he was. “Happy as a lark,” he said out loud. And Gloria nodded, glancing up from her condition book.
“How about this race?” She had one marked.
Ben rolled his eyes and laughed.
Randy stopped by the barn a short time later on his way to farm calls, reminding Dawn he had appointments lined up until seven, and took off in a hurry. “I’ll see you later,” he said.
“Don’t be late, please.”
“I’ll try.”
“Randy...?”
He smiled.
Dawn had plans to meet Aunt Maeve and Linda for lunch at the club. Then she and Aunt Maeve were going to visit Ben at the hospital. Aunt Maeve insisted it was time they meet. And after that they were going to the racetrack so Dawn could show her All Together.
Aunt Maeve and Ben hit it off great. They talked all about Dawn, who blushed and sighed repeatedly. They complained about hospital food. Maeve had undergone two hip replacements in the past ten years, and swore she’d have recovered much faster each time with some decent food, and Ben agreed wholeheartedly. And they talked about the signs of the time.
Soon, they were off to the racetrack, where it was Tom’s turn to be charmed and charming. And the filly couldn’t have been gentler. Ginney stopped by while they were there, and Aunt Maeve couldn’t help overhear part of Dawn and Ginney’s conversation. When she asked her about it in the car on the way home, Dawn explained.
“How awful,” Maeve said, staring out her window and then looking at Dawn. “But Dawnetta, dear. Are you sure you...?”
“I’m fine, Aunt Maeve. Honest,” she added, when Maeve still looked concerned. “I want to be there for her.”
Aunt Maeve nodded, squeezed Dawn’s hand, and stared out her window again. “Well, at least Matt and Rebecca are going to have good weather.”
Dawn feared Randy would be late, told Aunt Maeve to go on without her, and started pacing. Why am I so nervous, she asked herself? Why? She stared out the window. It was getting dark so soon now. Where is he? She glanced at her watch, her mother’s watch, as voices from the past mingled in her head. “Merry Christmas! Happy Holidays! Merry Christmas!”
She closed the drapes and walked back across the room. What would make her think of that now? Merry Christmas? The watch. She glanced at it again, turned when she heard a key in the door, and smiled as her eyes met Randy’s.
“Wow...” he said, the same thing he’d said at the store, and with the same look on his face. “When your Aunt Maeve leaves, you’re going to have to put this dress on just for me, okay?”
“Okay.”
He motioned for her to twirl around, whistled under his breath, and drew her into his arms. “And the high heels too. Better yet, why don’t we just stay here for a while.”
Dawn laughed, told him how nice he looked, so handsome, and motioned to the door. “We’re already late. Let’s go.”
The Fioritto estate was everything Randy suspected it would be. A virtual mansion, all lit up like the White House, with valets, security, landscaping galore, and fountains everywhere. The double-wide circular drive was crowded with limousines, Porsches, BMWs, Devilles, Sevilles, Towne Cars, and an occasional sports car, one of which was totally unfamiliar to Randy. He stopped to look at it, said something to one of the valets, who smiled, and he and Dawn walked up the steps. If he was nervous, he wasn’t showing it. But neither was Dawn for that matter, and she, for a fact, was nervous.
Uncle Matt greeted them just inside the door. “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he said, shaking Randy’s hand. “A real pleasure. And you, Dawnetta...” he said, turning to his niece and kissing her on both cheeks, “have been too much of a stranger lately.”
“Sorry, Uncle Matt, but I’ve been busy,” she said, smiling warmly, and then smiling again as Aunt Rebecca appeared at his side.
“Dawn,” she said, hugging her. “Thank you for coming.”
Dawn held her hand, squeezed it gently to show her support, and looked at Randy to introduce him. “Aunt Rebecca, this is Randy Iredell.”
“How nice to finally meet you,” Rebecca said, standing on her tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek. “Linda’s told me all ab
out you,” she added, and glanced at her husband. “Matt, you’re needed out on the terrace.”
“Well then, that’s where I’ll be.” Matt excused himself, told Randy he was looking forward to talking to him later, and walked away. Randy took a good look at Dawn’s Aunt Rebecca, a very attractive woman, and tried to picture her elsewhere with her cab driver.
“If I can just get through this evening,” Rebecca said to Dawn, and smiled again at Randy. “Linda and Harland are at the bar.”
Dawn took Randy’s hand as more guests arrived for Aunt Rebecca to greet, and they weaved their way through the crowded rooms to find Linda. Harland was not what Randy expected. He’d imagined somebody stuffy, especially with the name Harland, but found him to be a genuinely nice guy. Dawn’s Uncle Matt wasn’t what he’d expected either. He didn’t have a Mafia look about him at all. He looked like an everyday business man, out on the town, in his own house. Presidential style.
Linda and Dawn were right at home, telling stories about one another from when they were kids, and laughing. More than once Randy and Harland found themselves saying, “Guess you had to be there,” when they didn’t get what was so funny. But everyone was definitely enjoying themselves.
Champagne was popped all over, and flowing, hors d’oeuvres were being served throughout. A mime, a clown, and a belly-dancer, mimicked, entertained and performed. And music from the quartet in the great room competed with the rise of voices in conversation. Randy estimated there had to be at least a hundred people there...as he and Harland followed Dawn and Linda from room to room, putting on a big show for her parents’ sake, Linda said, “Of everything being hunky-dory.”
“Hi, how are you? So nice of you to come.”
“Haven’t seen you in so long.”
“When’s the wedding?”
“We haven’t set a date.”
“Hi, how are you doing?”
Randy half expected to see Dawn’s old fiancé around, Dave what’s-his-face. And sure enough, another room, and there he was, all smiles and headed their way.
“Dawn! And uh...Randy is it?”
Winning Odds Trilogy Page 42