Charming Dave

by Doreen Alsen

  “I want to talk to my mother.”

  “She’s a bit busy with Patsy right now and can’t leave her. Can I do something to help you? Are you in trouble?”

  Silence, then a sigh gusted through the earpiece. “The girls got picked up and went to a sleepover at Cecily’s house. I don’t want to stay here at Kevin’s. I need to get a ride home.”

  “Your mom really can’t leave Patsy now, but I can come get you.”

  More silence, then, “Yes, please. If you don’t mind doing this.”

  “Not at all.” Dave would do just about anything for Ainslie and her family. “I can be there in about ten minutes.”

  “Thanks.” Ruark hung up.

  Ainslie came into the room carrying a hiccupping Patsy in her arms. “Who was that?”

  Dave moved to get his coat. “Ruark. He needs a ride home from Kevin Baldwin’s house, since the girls went to the Brewsters’ for a sleepover. I’m going to go get him.”

  “You don’t have to do that,” Ainslie protested. “I can put Patsy in the back seat while I get him.”

  “I think you need to stay here with Patsy. Please.” He looked at her frazzled, lovely face. “Let me do this for you.”

  She looked at Patsy, who was still hiccupping and sniffling. Looking back at Dave, she said, “Thank you.”

  He smiled as he tugged on his jacket. “Be right back.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Dave pulled into the Baldwin’s driveway and put the car in neutral. He didn’t know whether to wait for Ruark or go up and fetch him. Option two would cause a few eyebrows to rise.

  Ruark made the decision for him by hightailing it off the porch. He practically flew to the car, then pulled the door open and slid into the passenger seat. “Thanks for picking me up.” Ruark wouldn’t look Dave in the eyes. “Is Patsy okay?”

  “I think she’ll be fine. Your mom has it all under control.” Dave put the car in gear. Waves of misery rolled off the kid like Niagara Falls.

  Ruark hunkered down in the car while he belted up. He looked straight ahead, discouraging conversation.

  Too bad, because Dave knew something was up, and he wanted to get to the bottom of it. Someone had harassed Ruark in school, and Dave had a chance to find out who it was. He figured Ruark was going to have to give up the bullies sooner or later.

  Actually, right now would be a really good time. “How was the party?”

  “Okay.”

  “Who was there?”

  Ruark shrugged. “Kids.”

  Okay. Didn’t look like Ruark was going to spill his guts.

  Ruark cleared his throat and looked out the passenger side window.

  “I didn’t realize you were friends with the football crowd, at least enough to get a limo with them.”

  He still wouldn’t look at Dave. “The girls arranged it all. They wanted to all go together, so since I was Cecily’s date, I got included in it.”

  “When did you start to date Cecily?”

  “Just tonight.”

  “She’s a pretty girl, really popular. I think lots of guys were jealous of you being with her.”

  Ruark snorted. The sound wasn’t polite. It sounded like the only comment Ruark intended to make about Cecily.

  Dave glanced at Ruark. The kid looked so angry. “You would probably feel a lot better if you just told me what’s going on.”

  ****

  Ruark had a ball of barbed wire rolling around in his stomach. He’d happily give Cecily to any guy who wanted her. He kept his face turned to the side because he wanted to puke.

  His sister and Alden Bradford, King of the Douches, were together. Alden wanted only one thing from Shanna, and Ruark couldn’t do one damn thing about it. And she was drinking to fit in with Alden and Cecily’s clique. He had to keep dating Cecily to save Shanna’s face as well as keep an eye on her. Bile rose in his throat. He nearly choked on it.

  “I want to be back in Charleston. All the people who understand me are there. My music is there.” The words blurted out of him before he could stop them.

  In Charleston he had a life, friends, really good friends who he could be out of the closet with. He wanted to tell his mother he was gay, but she had so much to deal with, thanks to his sperm donor.

  Gay or not, he was the man of the family now. He needed to take care of things and not worry her.

  Pigs would fly before he could come out to his mom and sisters. Especially since Shanna was hooking up with Alden Bradford. That would be horrible.

  “Have you talked to Mrs. Kelly? It’s not too late in the year to start an independent study. She could tailor a program just for you.”

  “It’s not the same.” He desperately missed music. Mrs. Kelly was okay, he liked her just fine, but she wasn’t a world famous bass. She couldn’t teach him what he hungered to know, what he needed to learn in order to have a career as a professional opera singer.

  “I think you’re selling Mrs. Kelly short.” Mr. Mason flicked the blinker when he turned left into Ruark’s driveway. “She knows a thing or two about opera.”

  “Sure, she does, okay. But she’s not going to put on an opera so one kid can sing. That’s what I want. And you know she can’t do that.”

  “I’m sure she can come up with something. This independent study with Mrs. Kelly is better than nothing but chorus.”

  What did Mrs. Kelly know about opera, about losing your dreams, your future, the one thing that mattered? Raurk looked out the window again. Mr. Mason was right about one thing. An independent study would be better than nothing. “I can give it a try, I guess.”

  “Good. I’ll talk to her first thing on Monday.” Mr. Mason parked his car behind his mom’s. Ruark grabbed for the door handle and pushed it open.

  “Tell your mother I said good night.”

  Ruark stopped and looked at Mr. Mason. “Sure.” He hopped out of the car before closing the door. “Thanks for the ride.”

  “Anytime.” Mr. Mason smiled. He had such an amazing smile.

  That was another dream gone. Ruark knew he’d never had a chance with Mr. Mason, but still he’d liked the fantasy. He just couldn’t fantasize about his mom’s boyfriend.

  Ruark felt a little queasy because he’d spilled his guts to Mr. Mason. “Please don’t tell my mom the stuff I told you tonight, especially about the opera. It’ll only make her feel bad.”

  “Of course. It’ll stay between you and me.”

  Ruark sure hoped that was true. “Thank you for the ride, sir.” He nodded once, closed the car door, then turned to go into the house his mom rented for them, his steps heavy and slow. That queasy feeling grew exponentially.

  His mother was on the couch cuddling Patsy to sleep. “Hey there, handsome,” she whispered. “How was the party?”

  He shrugged. “Okay. Is Patsy all right?” She sure didn’t look good.

  “She woke up and got scared because she thought she was alone.” His mom’s brow furrowed. “Is Mr. Mason coming in?”

  “No.” Ruark cleared his throat. “He told me to tell you that he’d call you tomorrow.”

  “Are you okay?” Momma looked really hard at him. “Did something happen?”

  “Uh, no.” He crossed his fingers behind his back. “I’m just tired, is all. I’m gonna go to bed.”

  “Well, good night, then.” Her gaze speared him. “Maybe you should take your temperature.”

  He heaved a huge sigh. “I don’t have a temperature.” No way he was ever going to burden her with his problems. So he lied. “Nothing’s wrong. I’m tired, is all.”

  Mom shifted Patsy in her lap. “Good night, then, baby. Sweet dreams.”

  As he walked to his room, he turned his mom’s words in his mind. Sweet dreams only dwelled in the part of his life he left in Charleston.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  “Dear Lord, my feet hurt.” Ainslie dropped her butt onto a bar stool. Two competing soccer teams had come into The End Zone earlier, both at the same time, and mayhe
m had ensued.

  It wasn’t pretty. French fries as projectile weapons were never a good idea, unless thrown by college kids who’d had one too many cold ones and didn’t have to scrape the smooshed ones off of the floor.

  Spike wiped down a section of counter. “Tell me about it. My tootsies are tired. Maybe I can talk Bobby into closing early.”

  The End Zone’s big front door opened, and Mike and Andi came in. Dressed up, they looked like they’d been somewhere fancy. Mike loosened his tie as he crossed the room. “Looks like a bomb went off in here.”

  Spike rolled her eyes. “No flies on you.” She grabbed a Heineken, opened it with a fsst, and slapped it down on the bar in front him.

  When she reached for a glass, Mike stopped her. “I don’t need the glass. After the night I’ve had…” He exaggerated shivering, then took a swig. “I can’t wait. I’m a victim of torture.”

  Andi shook her head, put her hand on his shoulder, and started to squeeze it. “Poor baby.” She smiled at Ainslie and Spike. “He had to come to the ballet with me.”

  “I’m scarred for life.” Obviously forlorn, Mike shook his head.

  Andi gave him a hip check. “I think you’ll live. I actually need to talk to you, Ainslie.”

  Ainslie frowned. She’d known something was wrong with Ruark. Maybe something in choir. “Is there a problem at school?”

  “Oh, no. Now that Dave’s worked out Ruark’s schedule so he can start an independent study with me on Monday, I wonder if there are school records from his school in Charleston that can be sent to me. Maybe some notes from his teachers about his progress there.”

  Ainslie goggled at Andi’s serene face. “Really? This independent study is news to me.”

  Andi shifted her bag from her right to her left shoulder. “I thought Dave had checked with you about it.”

  No, Dave hadn’t said a word. She didn’t know whether to be annoyed or relieved. She chose relieved. If anything could start to make Ruark happy, a new class in music would be it. “He didn’t, but this sounds intriguing. I’ll make some calls tomorrow and get them to fax what isn’t in the records I already had transferred. I’ve got lots of pictures of him in the school opera workshop. I have some DVDs, too, if you think those would help. He sang leading roles in some of their performances.” And Max. “You know he did some work with Miles Maxwell.”

  Andi nodded. “That’s impressive. It’s a little daunting, to be honest. I’m not a world class basso profundo, but I can come up with something to keep him challenged and happy. Speaking of projects, are you available to have lunch Tuesday at Esmeralda’s with the team planning the Ballet Gala? You’re the one who came up with the Mirror on the Wall Ball idea. We really need you to give us some guidance on what will work and what won’t.”

  Ainslie’s heart beat hard and fast. “Lunch?” She’d make it work. She only had the Brewsters’ house to clean. She could do it in the morning, then re-arrange the rest of her day. “Sure.”

  “Great! About 1:00? There’s only a half day of school.”

  She’d forgotten all about that. One or both of the twins would have to stay home with Patsy. “I’m sure I can make it. Thank you.”

  “No, thank you. This is going to be a wonderful event.” She elbowed Mike in the ribs. “Come on, buddy. Let’s go home.”

  He chugged the rest of his beer and put the bottle down. “’Bout time. Later, ladies.”

  Poof, they were gone.

  Ainslie grinned at Spike. “Wow. Ruark is just going to love this.”

  Spike polished a wine goblet. “Hope it works out for him. He’s a good kid.” She slipped the glass into the rack hung from the ceiling. “Everyone says Andi’s a good teacher.”

  Ainslie slid off the barstool. “I better get back to wiping down tables. Can I get a clean cloth?” She picked up her spray bottle of table cleaner and the washrag Spike handed her. She hummed as she went to work. Her feet didn’t throb as much as they did before Mike and Andi came in.

  Shanna seemed to be making the transition well, with hardly a ripple. Patsy was doing better, too, and now maybe Ruark would find something to be happy about.

  Dave had done this for her boy. She’d definitely have to find a way to thank him.

  ****

  Ruark’s backpack felt heavy as lead as he dragged his equally heavy feet in the direction of the music room. He hoped with all his heart that this independent study wasn’t going to be lame.

  On the other hand, it was better than study hall. Maybe. He could probably teach Mrs. Kelly about music. At least he could teach her about opera. Backwards, twice on Sunday, and blindfolded.

  He’d been working on the Papageno arias from Die Zauberflöte for repertoire class. This year coming up, the main stage opera would be Don Giovanni. His teacher, Miles Maxwell, held the honor of being considered the best Don Giovanni in the world. This would have been his year. Ruark missed Max, missed the work, missed his friends. Nothing could take their place. Ever.

  He stood and stared at the door handle to the vocal music room. To him, vocal music summed up the problem quite neatly. Vocal meant just making noise. Ruark sang.

  The late bell rang, and he couldn’t wait any more. He had to go in. He took a deep breath and pushed the door open.

  Mrs. Kelly sat at the piano as he came inside the room. Her smile was big and looked genuine. “Ruark. Come on in and sit down so we can talk about what you want to study.”

  He slipped into a chair. “Opera.”

  “I figured out that much.” Mrs. Kelly pulled a notebook and pen down from the top of the piano. “It’s a big subject area. Want to narrow it down for me?”

  Well, since she wanted to know, “I want to perform in an opera, with singers who are as interested in it as I am.” And as talented, he added to himself. He didn’t want to come off as stuck up.

  Though, as Max always said, if you don’t blow your own horn, no one else will.

  “Okay.” She tapped her pen on the notebook. “That’s a big order to fill. That’s something we’ll have to work toward. I’m not sure we have enough students with enough skill for opera. Musical Theater, yes. Opera, not so much.”

  He shrugged. He’d known the answer before she’d asked the question. He got a nervous, oogly-googly feeling in the pit of his stomach.

  “What can we do in the meantime? You’re already working on the Schubert for the next concert. District auditions are coming up. Let’s pick an aria for that. I know you’ll get an All State recommendation once the judges hear you.”

  “Sure.” Ruark looked at the floor. “Whatever.”

  Mrs. Kelly was silent for a minute, then, she gave a noisy inhale. “I know it’s not perfect, but it’s a place to start.”

  He looked back at her. “I guess.” Sudden tears stung behind his eyes. Oh, no. He would not cry. He swallowed and choked out, “It’s just hard to know I used to have a goal, and friends who had the same goals, and now I don’t have either.”

  “You still have the same goal you did back in Charleston. You want to be a professional opera singer.” She stared at him. “You can make new friends. You have made new friends. Aren’t you dating Cecily Brewster?”

  Mrs. Kelly made him feel like a smear on a microscope slide. Like she expected him to say something about Cecily? Like she could read his mind and knew all about him.

  Oh no, she couldn’t tell he was gay. No way.

  He squirmed in his chair, then just blurted, “I’m only taking Cecily out as a favor to Shanna.”

  “I see.”

  He’d disappointed her, he could tell. Probably she got mad because he really wasn’t dating Cecily because he liked her and it was just the opposite. Time to change the subject. “I’m still not going to get into schools with good opera programs.”

  “That’s not set in stone. We can work on material for conservatory auditions.”

  “I won’t have the performance credits to get in.” Ruark said. He knew he sounded like a brat,
but he couldn’t stop himself from opening his mouth.

  Again, Mrs. Kelly sat in silence, then sighed. “I’m sure we can find some performance opportunities, if not in Addington, then in Boston. We can go online and find them.”

  He opened his mouth, ready to spout some lame excuse why that wouldn’t work, then realized it might be a solution and it might be fun. Nodding, he said, “Okay.”

  Mrs. Kelly scratched some notes on her yellow pad, underlining something with two bold strokes of her pen. “So, let’s get started on a list of arias for auditions. I can order scores after school today.”

  “I have some scores and some aria collections. I’ll bring them into school tomorrow.”

  “That would be great,” she smiled. “Let’s get that list done.”

  Again, she looked at him like she could read his mind. He’d worry about that later.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  “Hey, beautiful.” Dave had taken a seat at The End Zone bar and pulled on Ainslie’s apron strings as she cruised past the bar. “What’s good tonight?”

  She grabbed her apron and retied it. She couldn’t help but smile. She’d hoped he’d come into the restaurant that night and there he was, with tousled dark hair and electric blue eyes, rumpled shirt and loosened tie.

  He smelled faintly of soap and after-shave, clean and woodsy, but not too strong. She really had to be near him to catch the scent. Up close, it made her hormones buzz and jump like Mexican jumping beans in a hot pan. She had no choice but to lean in and give him a quick kiss square on the lips.

  “Hm.” He pulled her in by those apron strings and kissed her, teasing her lips open.

  Her brain disconnected. Absolutely, totally went blank.

  “Anybody got a fire hose so I can turn it on these two?” Bobby rumbled.

  “Hey, Bobby.” Dave pulled away from Ainslie but didn’t let go of the apron. “How’s it going?”

  “It would go a hell of a lot better if you weren’t mackin’ on one of my waitresses.”

  “Sorry.” Dave looked absolutely unrepentant, grinning like a pirate over a treasure chest full of booty.