by Garcia, Rita
“Thelma grew up with Anne. Let’s go talk to her.” He pushed my hair back on one side, tucking it behind my ear.
“Good idea. I need to call Maggie first. I promised to bring lunch for her and Linda.”
He began punching buttons on his phone. “I texted Maggie and canceled.”
Logan’s take-charge attitude wasn’t something I was used to, and there were moments it got on my very last nerve. But I bit my tongue and handed him the keys.
At the hospital, my breath caught for a second. I quickly released it, thankful to be a visitor this time. With Logan’s hand on the small of my back, we moved closer to Thelma’s desk.
Thelma tossed us a hello and shifted her attention to Goldie. “Welcome back, Miss Goldie.” She opened a desk drawer and withdrew a snack for her. “Good girl, you remembered to come say hi.” She came around to the front of her station and fed Goldie the treat. “You have an appointment with Doc?” She nodded toward me.
“You have a break coming up?” Logan took charge in his usual manner. He and I seriously needed to have a talk.
“I’m off in an hour. Let me find Evelyn—she can cover for me.”
“Meet us at the Rockin’ Robin?” He gave her a quirky smile. “I’m buying.” He waved away her answer, which I hadn’t caught, and threw a wink in my direction.
We were waiting in the parking lot of the restaurant when Thelma zoomed in and parked next to us.
“Wow. What a car. It’s so her.” I grinned and pulled Goldie’s leash closer to me.
“Meet Shelby, a classic 1965 Mustang Shelby Fastback. Candy apple red with silver racing stripes. A wedding present from her husband.”
Thelma eased out of the car and joined us. “Ain’t she a hoot? Original everything, just like me.” She snickered before continuing. “Shelby went from used, to old, to classic. Fred paid under five thousand for her and we were offered $75,000 last summer. I’m in trouble if the offer goes up—Fred wouldn’t turn it down. You ready?” She lifted her eyebrows. “I skipped breakfast.”
The door of the Rockin’ Robin Diner ushered us into the fifties. We followed the black and white squares past the fountain stools and slid into one of the red-vinyl padded booths. Logan and I sat across from Thelma. A forty-five record orbited inside the jukebox. According to the sign on the old player, it filled the diner with the sweet notes of “Only You,” by the Platters.
A waitress, her poodle skirt swishing above her bobby socks, bopped to our table. “What’ll you have to drink?” A bubble emerged between her lips from the glob of gum in her mouth—a bit too authentic for my taste.
Logan flashed a look around the table. “Cherry sodas, cheeseburgers and fries all around?” Ponytail swaying, our server bounced behind the counter.
I’m supposed to talk to Thelma—here? Hmm. How to lighten up a heavy conversation? Logan’s kindness amazed me, even though his take-charge attitude could be annoying.
He fired the first question. “Thelma, weren’t you and Anne friends in high school?”
“I had an inkling you wanted to talk about Anne. On the first day of kindergarten, we walked in arm in arm, in our little dresses and brand new shoes.” Thelma’s eyes sparkled and her smile turned into what I perceived as soft laughter.
Logan nudged my arm. “I’ll take Goldie for a stroll around the parking lot.” He picked up Goldie’s leash.
I removed her vest. “Baby, go with Logan.” After they left, I returned my attention to Thelma. “I’ve never thought about Anne as a child. You went to school together? All the way through high school?”
“Inseparable. At least, until we both became aware of boys, first talking and giggling about the cute guys. In our junior year, I began dating Fred. By our senior year, we drifted apart.” From the expression on her face the memories, while cherished, were also painful. Like Maggie and Julia, she apparently missed Anne, too.
“I understand Anne lived in Serenity Cove when she got pregnant, so my birth father must have lived here, too.”
“Oh, hon, I think you should discuss this with Anne’s parents.” She held her lips a little stiffer.
“The grandparents who refuse to acknowledge my existence?” The waitress served our drinks. I sipped the cherry soda to cool the dryness in my throat.
Thelma toyed with the wrapper from her straw. “If there’s one thing I know about people, their actions aren’t required to make sense. Once when I dropped in at the bookshop, Anne’s mother was just leaving. Anne gazed forlornly out the window as her parents drove away. She told me John had never forgiven her.” She paused and pulled a drink through her straw. “I watched that man at Anne’s services and he looked to be consumed by a firestorm of regrets. John and Elizabeth are not bad people. They’ve been hurt, but the real tragedy was the loss of a father-daughter relationship.”
“And now they’re rejecting me—their only granddaughter.” I wadded up the pieces of the napkin I had shredded, thinking it represented the condition of my life.
Logan returned with Goldie as the server brought our food. It gave me time to mentally replay our conversation while we ate.
Thelma stretched her arm across the table and grasped my hand. “Reach out to your grandparents. Give ’em a chance.”
My fingers itched to rub Goldie’s fur. But Logan sat on the end and she’d settled on the floor next to him. “How can the barriers be broken after all this time?”
“Hon, barriers are made to be broken. They’re your family. Pray. God loves to be in the details of our lives, when we invite Him to. I’d offer to talk to John, but he’s such a private person I’d be worried it would make the situation worse.”
The waitress returned with the credit card slip for Logan’s autograph.
In the parking lot, Thelma wrapped her arms around me. “I’ll be praying for God to give you strength.” I waited until she got into her car before I climbed into the SUV.
Logan had already settled Goldie into the back seat. “Not much help?”
“Not much. The mystery keeps getting deeper, like it’s mired in quicksand.” I filled him in on the highlights of the conversation. “If Anne couldn’t get through to John, he’s certainly not going to listen to me. I’m not even sure if I can legally go on their property.”
“I can look at the papers, but it’d be preferable if you called Jones.”
“That’s what I though I’d do, check with him.” I pulled the seatbelt around me, snapping it into place. He squinted at the glare coming through the windshield, and reached for his sunglasses before reversing out of the parking space.
The doors kept closing. I rolled my eyes upward, wondering when a window would open. A part of me wanted to go home and pretend I’d never learned the truth about being adopted. Only, my heart told me I needed to try and to reach out to John and Elizabeth. Maybe more for Anne than myself.
Chapter Sixteen
After calling the inn and ordering a picnic for two, I shifted my focus to John. There had to be a way to bridge the gap between John and his granddaughter. In answer to my text, Alec sauntered into my office.
“I’m paying John another visit.” I grabbed my cap from the edge of my desk. “Want to tag along?”
Alec clicked his seatbelt and I maneuvered the truck onto the street. “Sam and I talked with Thelma. She agrees that John’s harshness created a fallout of pain.” I looped onto Shoreview Drive.
“I don’t get it—a dad rejecting his daughter and now his granddaughter.”
I shook my head. “It’s difficult to understand.”
Alec started his quirky habit of tapping his fingers on his knee. It was on the tip of my tongue to say something about it when we reached the turnoff.
We pulled into the driveway, and the guardian gurus were still on duty, advising us to stay put. We lowered the windows partway and waited.
“Didn’t we settle this mess the other day?” John hollered from his porch. “Barkley, Herman. That’s enough.” The hounds moseyed over an
d plopped down on a clump of grass near the house.
I stepped out of the truck. “I need to talk to you, John.” Alec eased around from the passenger side.
With a wave of his arm, he motioned us on up. “Hope you’re not expectin’ me to offer you coffee.”
We trotted up the steps and each chose a chair from the ones scattered on the porch and dragged them near his. “I see you still keep chickens.” John had farmed his land until well into his seventies. I missed the sight of him plowing his fields, the land now empty of crops and overgrown with weeds. Chickens were the only livestock in sight.
“You here to buy eggs?” His face bore the creases from years of farming. He eased his frail body onto the rocker, where the cushion had conformed to his shape. Wisps of white hair scattered on his scalp, speckled with age spots. He wrapped his bony fingers around the curve of the rocker’s arms.
Alec sat back folding his arms across his chest. I pushed forward. “I want to talk about Anne.”
“You wasted a trip out here.” He lifted halfway out of his seat.
“John, come on man, give us a few minutes.” I leaned back and stretched my legs out in front of me, ankles crossed.
He dropped back onto the chair. “Ask your questions.” His voiced reeked of stubbornness.
I ambushed him. “Do you know who fathered Anne’s baby?”
“Got a hunch.”
“Who was she dating?”
“Roger Monroe.”
“Is Roger the father?”
“Not according to Anne.” He shrugged. “She never told me the father’s name.” He pulled his handkerchief from his pocket and tapped the corners of his eyes. “If she had, I could have forced him to do the right thing.”
I reached across, putting my hand on his knee. “Tell me. Who do you think it was? Your granddaughter has a right to know.”
“Liz needs me.” He shuffled into the house, and the lock clicked into place.
We began the trek back to the station. I glanced over at Alec. “You think Elizabeth knows?”
“Maybe Anne never told anyone his name. Her silence would ensure John wouldn’t find out.”
“Except we both know, in our line of work there are generally clues. People find at least one other person to confide in.”
“The gossip heated up after Anne’s death, but I haven’t heard anyone speculate on who the father was. If I didn’t know better, I’d think he never existed.”
The truck bounced over the speed bump as I pulled in next to the side entrance of the station.
“You heading out?” Alec opened the passenger door.
“Sorta have a date with Sam tonight.”
His laugh boomeranged through the cab. “How do you sorta have a date, boss? Both of you eating dinner in the same restaurant?”
“Wise guy.” He slammed the door, still cracking up at his own joke. I shook my head and headed to the inn. When I invited Sam to dinner, she suggested a picnic at the beach and I knew the perfect spot.
The food filled two baskets. “You have a fabulous evening.” Abby threw me a sly grin. “Oh, I included a plate for Goldie.” Her smile brightened as she winked.
“How did you know…never mind.” I erased it with a wave of my hand. I secured the hampers in the backseat of the extended cab and made the fifteen-minute drive in much less. There she stood, waiting with Goldie. The sledge returned.
She let Goldie hop in and settled into the passenger seat. “I thought about bringing dessert, figured you had it covered.”
With the sweetness of that smile—who needed dessert? “Maggie mentioned you wanted to see Villa del Sueños.”
She crinkled her face. “What is a Villa…?”
I took advantage of a stoplight to slowly repeat the name and give her more details. “My grandparents’ home. Villa del Sueños means House of Dreams. The story goes, when my great-grandparents home was destroyed by floodwaters, my great-grandfather rebuilt it on the bluff to prevent it from ever happening again. My great-grandmother christened the new house Villa del Sueños.” The signal turned green and we were underway, again.
“What a magical story. Maggie never mentioned it by name.” She pointed to Maggie’s house. “Oh, there’s the Lady in White.”
“La Dama De Blanca.”
“Oh, the names are so romantic. How do you say house of beautiful dreams?”
Another red light glowed ahead so I waited until I stopped again. “Villa del Sueños Hermosos.”
“Your name, Delatorre—it’s Spanish?”
“My paternal great-grandfather was of Spanish descent. I’ve been told I take after my great-grandfather. Maggie is the image of our grandmother on our father’s side—same red hair and green eyes.” The light changed and we continued.
Sam’s smile said how much she adored my sister, I was glad. I pointed to the house sitting on the bluff. “Your first glimpse of Villa del Sueños.”
Chapter Seventeen
My heart is making wishes. If I made a list of what I wanted in a man, I would only need one word. He’s trustworthy. He’s caring. He’s great with Goldie. And I sense an adventurous spirit in him. Logan. Do I dare allow my imagination to build castles? ~ Journal entry
House of Dreams loomed majestic, high on the bluff, extending an invitation to step into a timeless era. “It’s breathtaking.” I wanted to find the exact word to describe the view before me, but words failed me. Beauty. Grace. Neither of them did the grand home justice.
Stone pillars guarded the double iron gates, the words Villa del Sueños scrolled across the fancy ironwork. He aimed a remote at the gates and pushed a button. They swung inward and revealed a cobblestone drive that curved along an expansive carpet of green.
Seeing the Victorian home from a distance hadn’t prepared me for the regal gables and towers. Growing up, I attended home tours with my mother, usually fundraisers for committees she chaired. The style of the homes we toured paled by comparison.
He drove around to the side and parked in front of a three-door garage. He faced me with a trace of a smile. “Shall we eat first? Otherwise we’ll miss the show.”
“The smells coming from those baskets are wonderful. I feel like I haven’t eaten in days.” I laughed as Goldie stuck her nose in the air sniffing.
We wound our way down the path. Logan fanned a blanket on the ground and each of us claimed a spot. The waves lapped against the craggy cliffs, and the faded light bejeweled the silvery water covered by diamond-crusted waves. I inhaled—peace and calmness fed my soul. “The view is surreal, like being given a glimpse of heaven.”
He nodded and his eyes locked with mine, as though he might kiss me—I wanted him to. He merely winked and turned his attention to the hampers. I helped peel the lids off the warm bowls. One contained brochette of beef—bite size pieces of beef alternated with sections of onions, bell peppers, and tomatoes on wooden skewers.
“This is Abby’s idea of a picnic?” Logan chuckled, removing the foil wrappings from a crisp loaf of French bread.
We ate. We talked. We laughed. I imagined the refrain of our laughter bouncing from bluff to bluff and carried across the sea to faraway places. I pressed a hand to my chest, commanding my heart to behave. No skipping beats at the sight of his lips forming words. And no speeding up each time his hand touched mine. No wondering how his mouth would feel on mine. It refused to listen.
The sky presented hues of magenta and gold, joining the sea and sky. He laced his hand under my hair and pulled me closer, nature’s beauty spread before us. All too soon darkness doused the blaze.
Logan stared at the sea, a faraway look in his eyes. He faced me. “I have faint memories of sitting on this bluff with my parents. My father, his arm around my mom, holding her, and whispering to each other.”
“A true fairy tale.” A spark inside me warmed my heart.
“What good are they without a happy ending?” He looked to be pondering his own question.
“You don’t buy into t
he magic?” How could he not believe—surrounded by a majestic sea under a celestial display of floating stars?
“Love’s not the issue—it’s the happily ever afters. Life tends to have its own agenda.” A breeze stirred, and brushing the hair from my face he stared into my eyes, as though trying to get a glimpse of my soul.
With velvet softness, his lips brushed mine and when his mouth lingered, demanding more, I surrendered to the fire of his kiss. If I’d opened my eyes, the sky would’ve been bursting with colors of romance as sparks ignited and fell. Unquestionably, it wasn’t the first time the sea cliff had witnessed the flames of passion. We sat cuddled in each other’s arms, and I sensed the past merge with the present.
His eyes held a new intensity. Breathlessly, I broke the spell. “I’m ready for the grand tour of the house.” I hoped my voice didn’t reflect the trembling inside me, but I didn’t trust myself to sit there with him one minute longer.
After the baskets had been stashed in his truck, we strolled up the wide steps of the house. The interior lived up to Maggie’s description. Chandeliers floated above the entry and the winding staircase. The same words kept coming to my mind—majestic, regal, and wow.
“I live in the guesthouse near the pool. This is too much house for one person.” His gaze wandered over the interior, his eyes opened wide with the awe of someone seeing it for the first time. But most likely it was due to the memories stirring inside of him.
We continued through the house. Tall windows stood like sentries over each room. The high ceilings with their elegant crown molding created spaciousness. I rubbed the satiny wood of the banister. “So tell me, did you ever slide down the rails?”
Red patches formed on his cheeks. “Fastest way down. Maggie and I were notorious for hopping on opposite sides in a race to the bottom. Almost every time, there stood our grandmother waiting to scold us.” His chest vibrated with laughter. He took my hand and led the way deeper into the room. “My grandparents updated the kitchen and added a couple of bathrooms. And my grandfather wanted the garages. Each time I walk into this house, I still expect to find them here.”
