Chasing Dreams, Year Two

by Shawn Keys

  “What do you mean?” Evelyn asked without turning away from Irène.

  “Before we get into that, you need to know what happened.”

  “Irène said Henrietta suffered significant injuries and then drowned while her grandfather took a blow to the head.”

  “It was an accident, but one that’s going to be investigated and probably end up with me suing the city. You know the wharf that extends along Point Escarda?”

  “Of course. I used to jog there when I had the time.”

  “You and a few thousand others who use that path every day. Great vista. Lots of tourists as well.” The lawyer shook his head. “The city’s upkeep fell behind. That’s my guess. A section of it collapsed and sent about twenty people into the rocks below. Three were drowned, including Henrietta. Phillip came close to getting lucky, but the surf pummeled him against the rocks. Washed him ashore, but the head and neck damage caused… well, this.”

  Evelyn absorbed all that. A spark of anger struck her, but forgiveness flowed quickly after. “Why did you say I needed to know?”

  “If I can be direct for a few minutes, this is going to come down to a legal matter. The city is going to be looking to make this right. Irène is going to need all the help she can get.”

  “Why?” Evelyn had to ask.

  “Her grandparents’ finances weren’t the best. They were forced to re-mortgage their house to pay for Irène’s training.”

  “Matteo wouldn’t have charged that much.”

  “Gregoire Rimouldi did. Irène doesn’t know how much it cost. Or how much they spent on her equipment, sneakers, clothes… the list goes on. It wasn’t only her. They had a few other reversals. The foundation of their house needed some significant repair. One of their friends had to get a rather expensive cancer treatment that required him to fly to the Caymans. These two decided to help.” Leonard sighed. “All of it was done with the best of intentions. Their combined pensions were more than enough to handle the payments. Phillip still picked up the occasional teaching job at the community college. Cash flow wasn’t a problem.”

  “Until they died,” Evelyn surmised

  “Exactly. Now the house is owned by the bank. Worse, the city is looking to re-zone that area into commercial. They had already been putting pressure to bear on the local residents. Making offers to buy and even relocate the families. The bank won’t even put it on the market for Irène to settle the balance, even if she had the money. The bank will get whatever the city is willing to pay. Irène won’t come out of this owing anyone any money. But she won’t have a house, either.”

  Evelyn saw where he was going. “But now the city owes her. She can apply pressure back on the city. Maybe stop them from claiming the house so that she can buy it back herself.”

  “If she had the money. Yes. If that’s what she wants. But legal matters take time. Especially since the city government is a nest of bureaucrats who don’t talk to each other. Rezoning and settling personal injury claims aren’t done by the same people. Connecting them and forcing them to realize how one issue matters to the other issue is more difficult that it sounds.”

  “The last thing she needs right now is a protracted legal fight,” Evelyn said with a frown. “It’s going to be hard enough for her to recover from a tragedy like this. Following her dream of competing might help take her mind off of it. But neither training, practices nor competitions blend with courtroom battles. She doesn’t need this.”

  “I can handle most of it.”

  “Handle all of it. If you need to hire others, I’ll handle the fees.”

  “I’m glad to hear that, Ms. Foster. It might be necessary. I haven’t worked much with the junction between politics and legality. I could fail Irène by not knowing.”

  “Is there anything else I can do?”

  “Do you know her coach?”

  Normally, that question would have brought a flush of warmth and lust to her heart, forcing Evelyn to conceal her feelings. The shadow of where they stood kept those desires subdued. She answered with calm assurance, “Very well. Why?”

  “Make sure he understands how important it will be to work her training schedule around the hearings and depositions she will need to attend. The process is going to be convoluted enough. If Irène wants to fight to keep her house, the city will drag it out and twist the process even further. They’d rather dump a million dollars in her pocket than fail at getting the deed to that house so they can rezone.”

  Evelyn’s eyes were still latched onto the young woman at her grandfather’s side, watching for any sign that she was needed. “Do you think she will want to fight for it?”

  “I honestly don’t know. I’ve known their family for a while, but Irène is young. The last thing she wanted to do was hang out around her grandparents’ old friends. If you want to help, then find out what she wants as early as you can. That’ll let me know what moves I need to start making.”

  “I’ll try. For now, assume she’ll want it,” Evelyn said. “Stall as long as you can until she makes her final decision.”

  “Makes sense. I’ll leave her with you, then. If you have any questions, here’s my card. I’ll give you two in case Irène wants one as well. Should I call you first over the next couple days?” Leonard looked more than willing to funnel any pressure through Evelyn. He didn’t sound like a coward; more like he was trying to guarantee Irène wasn’t getting attacked from all sides, and to help make sure Evelyn could moderate when that pressure arrived.

  Evelyn gave him the benefit of the doubt. “Yes. Call me first until she wants me to step back.”

  Leonard held out his hand. “Pleasure to meet you. I’m glad someone like you was here for her today. I can tell she trusts you.” He gave a sad smile, which served to remind Evelyn that he was grieving too. The old lawyer was holding himself together well. Something about him felt tired, as if he was seeing too many people that he knew dying while he helped their families deal with their final affairs.

  Evelyn offered him an empathic smile as she shook his hand. “If you need to talk, call me. Not about Irène. We need you in the right mind for this. That means taking care of yourself as well.”

  “I will. Fortunately, I have people around I can talk to. My wife. Couple good friends at the pub.”

  “A therapist?”

  “No,” he chuckled. “Won’t be caught dead doing that. People hear their lawyer is seeing a shrink, they get nervous.” His dark humor faded. “Honestly, I’ll be fine. Just do what you need to do to keep Irène stitched together.” With a final nod, he walked off down the corridor.

  That left nothing for Evelyn to do but turn back and attend to Irène again as she bowed over her grandfather and kissed him for the last time.

  * * *

  Evelyn folded herself into the chair across from Irène at the café. Extending a cardboard cup across the table, she offered, “Café Latte, heavy on the Latte.”

  “Thanks,” Irène replied, sliding the drink closer. She took a small sip. As if the hot liquid burned open her throat, she croaked, “I have no idea what I’m going to do.”

  “When the way ahead is unclear, the best advice is to take one step at a time.” Carefully, Evelyn took a sip of her own coffee. Irène’s sensibilities and emotions needed to be delicately heeded. They had seen to her grandfather. They had visited her grandmother. With the documents Irène had signed, they would be transferred into the care of a mortuary service which would contact Irène once the cremations were completed.

  Irène had been unable to return home. That had nothing to do with the house being claimed by the bank. They had yet to assert their claim on it. But she couldn’t face the empty house. Evelyn helped find her a place for them to hide for a night. After sharing a hotel room for a long sleep, they had been slow in rising. Breakfast from room service. Then showers. It hadn’t taken much to convince Irène to take a short walk to a nearby café so they could talk over what came next.

  “What’s the next step?
” Irène wondered.

  “You need to decide where you are going to live.”

  Irène’s gaze flickered up to hers. “I have a house.”

  Evelyn didn’t shy away. She needs to face this eventually. She didn’t intend to force the issue. But she had to ask. “Do you want it?” was all she said prior to taking another sip.

  “It was home.”

  “Is it still?” It was the critical question.

  Irène took a long time answering. Half her coffee was gone before she answered. “Everything that made it home is gone. Now… it’s just… haunted.”

  “Some people want that connection,” Evelyn suggested. “Need it. You might miss it, after a time.”

  “I’ll take photos. I want a few things that were special to them. Those will be memories I can control. I can look at them when I wish.” Irène shook her head. “I can’t live in that house where memories can hit me whenever they want.”

  “So, we don’t fight for it. Let it be sold.”

  Irène nodded. “I… I think so.” Turning her cup on the table, her fidgeting was the first sign of her normal energy returning. “That’s not a fight I want. I don’t understand it, and I get the feeling it will break everything. It isn’t worth it. Not to me. Not to them. I… I hope that doesn’t sound like I’m just giving up.”

  “No, you’re not giving up. There’s nothing wrong with giving away what can hurt you. If that’s what you feel, then that’s the only truth that matters.” Evelyn said, “Which leaves us with deciding where you will want to live. Do you have any savings?”

  Irène shook her head. “Not much.”

  “Forgive me, but did your grandparents have life insurance?”

  Again, she shook her head. “Barely any. Enough to cover the funeral costs. Leonard mentioned they had a small amount squirreled away, but only a few thousand dollars.”

  “Enough for a few months’ rent.”

  “Seems like my only choice. I’ll need to figure out a job after that.”

  “It isn’t you only choice.”

  Irène found her gaze again. “What?”

  Evelyn swirled her half-full cup in her hands, debating on how to phrase this. “The pool house has two rooms.”

  “But that’s MK’s place! Wouldn’t she –”

  “– mind? I have a feeling that she would object rather loudly if I didn’t suggest it.” She slipped a hand across the table, holding open her palm. Irène took it immediately, instinctively seeking human connection. “It doesn’t have to be forever. At least until we figure out where your stable income is going to come from. Until the government athlete stipend kicks in. Something. By then you’ll know if you want your own space. Until then…” She offered a quiet smile. “You’ll be with friends. You’ll need us, and the others will want to be there for you.”

  “You’d really open your home to me?”

  “It won’t be the first time. MK is there because she lost her home.” She tapped the fingernails of her free hand thoughtfully on her cup. “My only real concern is that if you’re going to live there, you will need to be told a secret.”

  “A secret?”

  “Yes. A secret that should really be discussed with Daniel and Cadence first, but –”

  “Oh, you mean about you all sleeping together?”

  Evelyn’s next taps lost their rhythm, her hand twitching and nearly knocking over her cup.

  A weak smile stole over Irène’s lips. “Hard to miss when I’m around those two all day.”

  “And me?” Evelyn inquired carefully, wondering where they had exposed themselves.

  “They live in the main house. You asked MK to live out in the pool house. Didn’t seem to make sense since you have more bedrooms inside. At first, I thought you wanted MK to have her privacy. You know, because she needed space to deal with being away from her parents.”

  “Then?”

  “Well then it went on too long. Which made me think you were simply more comfortable with Daniel and Cadence.” Irène shrugged. “Really comfortable, I guess.”

  “How long have you known?”

  “Didn’t for sure. Not until you said you had a secret. That’s it, isn’t it?”

  Evelyn groaned a self-mocking smile. Can’t believe I fell for that. “Yes, it is.” She took a deep breath, resolving herself to the fact that yet another person knew. Each time, the risk builds. Secrets are best kept by one person. “You care for us. We care for you. All of us… including MK… will want to help you. That means trusting you.” Evelyn turned serious. “Daniel, Cadence and I are in a relationship. Can you be alright with that?”

  Irène’s mood lightened a small bit. “Both of them seem happy. As long as that’s true, how could I not be?” Her brief humor faded back into a seriousness to match Evelyn’s. “Thank you. I really didn’t want to be alone.”

  “Then don’t be. Stay with us. You’ll have everything you need.”

  “Hugs?”

  Evelyn smiled. “More than enough. When the others get back, you’ll be in danger of smothering from so many of them. Warn us if that becomes a problem.”

  Irène sighed. “Right about now, that sounds like a wonderful way to go.” She fidgeted a little more. “Do… I have to wait? I mean… mind giving me a few of those hugs now? Daniel and Cadence wouldn’t mind, would they?”

  Evelyn’s lips quirked a little, but she kept control of the grin threatening to spread. “As many as you need.” Gladdened by the idea she might have a little of Irène’s trust, Evelyn asked, “Want to stop by your house? Get a few things? Not sure if you’re up to it, but if we go now, we can be at my place before the coverage of the CACGs start. See if we can hear some mention of the others?”

  Irène nodded eagerly. “I thought you’d never ask.”

  Chapter 8

  Matteo felt a nudge on his shoulder. He unhooked the earphones from his ears, breaking the noise-cancelling effect. He was in the window seat right at the back of the economy section. It wasn’t a massive plane; merely a decent-sized jet to bounce them over the mountains into San Diego from Dallas, which had been the team’s layover stop after leaving Portesara.

  The seats were arranged in rows of three pairs. The artistic swimming team was taking up the entirety of the back row, flanked by Matteo and their coach, Flora in the window seats.

  Sitting next to him was Hélène Roche.

  All four of the women on the team were of a similar age and body type. It was no accident they had chosen to take on the activity formerly known as synchronized swimming. Their love of dancing, skill at water sports and natural sense of musical rhythm were the primary, driving factors. But a reasonable, important secondary factor was the echo of features between the four friends-become-teammates. They wouldn’t be mistaken for twins, but maybe sisters. When they shared the same hairstyle and precisely applied make-up, they blended them together and emphasized their similarities.

  When they weren’t in the pool or a competition, the four women diverged their styles as if to make a clear statement that they weren’t, in fact, the same person. Now that Hélène wasn’t restraining her hair in a bun, her long springs of tight curls emerged. Artfully arranged hair clips spilled soft curls over her shoulders in two distinct waves that highlighted her lovely cheekbones.

  Matteo radiated apology her way. “Was I being all elbows again?” His body was the sort that made airplane seats groan; muscular bulk over a tall, broad-chested frame.

  Hélène waved that away. “Again? Most people would figure I pulled the short straw sitting next to you, but you’ve been cramming yourself so far into that window well out of fear of touching me that I’m starting to think I’ve got the plague or something.”

  Matteo chuckled. “There’s absolutely nothing wrong with you.” As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he knew how badly they could be misconstrued. Maybe she won’t catch on.

  A bright smile dawned on Hélène’s mouth.

  Crap.

  Befor
e he could awkwardly struggle to take it all back, Hélène smoothly changed the topic. “Your phone is still on. The stewardess is going to bust you.”

  “It is?” His eyes widened.

  “I heard the notification for a text several times. What was that? Whistling?”

  “David Bowie’s riff at the end of ‘Golden Years’.” He glanced at her slightly confused look. He groaned in amusement, “Please don’t tell me if you’ve never heard of David Bowie. I don’t want to feel that old right now.”

  She laughed. “You aren’t that old. What… 67?”

  “Ouch!”

  She smirked. “Play the ‘I’m old’ card, that’s what you get.”

  Matteo chuckled, giving her the victory. He was a fan of classical music, but it wasn’t like he was old enough to have lived when most of it was coming out. Halfway between 30 and 40 wasn’t exactly ancient. He pawed at his pocket. “Swore I had it on airplane mode. Must have forgotten after I checked my messages in Dallas.”

  “I’ll be your lookout. I’ll chirp like a robin if I see someone coming,” Hélène joked.

  “Another poke in the arm will do fine,” Matteo said. “Unless bird calls are a hobby of yours and you want the practice.” He keyed open his text messages and noticed there were three texts from Daniel. They all said the same thing:

  Daniel || Call Evelyn. It’s important. It’s about Irène.

  A chill spiked through his heart. He scrolled down his contacts and found Evelyn. Sweeping open the typing line, he tapped out a message her.

  Matteo || What’s going on? Daniel told me to contact you.

  It took only about two minutes before he got an answer. When the chime came in that fast, he somehow knew that was a bad sign. Reading it made his heart drop even further.

  Evelyn || I’m sorry to be the one to tell you. Even Daniel doesn’t know the whole story yet. Irène’s grandparents died.