The Courage to Dream

by Margaret Daley

  She switched on the light in the living room and gasped. Amy sat on the couch in the dark, a surprised expression on her face before her usual sullen countenance fell into place.

  “What are you doing up?” Amy asked, bringing her legs to her chest and hugging them.

  “I was about to ask you the same thing.”

  Amy wrapped her arms about her legs. “I like to sit in the dark.”

  Rachel came farther into the room. “It’s soothing, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah, well, it’s time for me to go to bed.”

  “You’ve been up all night?”

  “Yeah, what of it?” Tension whipped through Amy’s words.

  Rachel shrugged. “Nothing. Just wondering.”

  “Well, you can stop wondering if I snuck out of the house. I’ve been right here for the past few hours.”

  “I wasn’t wondering.”

  “Why are you up so early?”

  “Couldn’t sleep. In fact, I was heading into the kitchen to make some coffee. Do you want to join me? We could talk. We haven’t—”

  Amy jumped to her feet. “I’m tired. I’m going to bed.”

  She hurried toward her bedroom, leaving Rachel standing in the middle of the living room wondering if she’d even had a conversation with her younger sister. Maybe she had been dreaming, Rachel thought as she padded toward the kitchen and that pot of coffee she so desperately needed.

  As the coffee brewed, its wonderful aroma filling the air, Rachel sank onto a chair at the kitchen table and rested her chin in her palm. Her eyelids drooped. The blare of the phone caused her to shoot to her feet, nearly toppling over her chair.

  She snatched up the receiver. “Hello, Rachel speaking.”

  Static greeted her words.

  “Hello, is anyone there?”

  “Rachel, it’s me, your mother. Sorry about this connection. It isn’t the best in the world. Is everything all right?”

  Through the bad connection Rachel heard the question and closed her eyes. No, my world is changing. “Aunt Flora died a few weeks ago.”

  “I know. I received your letter and the lawyer’s. That’s why I’m calling.”

  “Are you coming back to the States?” When are you and Daddy going to be the parents?

  “Not for a while. I don’t know when I’ll be able to get away, but I’m sure you’re taking care of everything. I know I need to sign some papers about guardianship and I will as soon as I can. I’ll call you and let you know when I can come.”

  Rachel’s grip tightened. “But, Mom—”

  More static. “I don’t have long before I have to head back to camp. We’re moving it to another location. What are your plans?”

  This woman was my role model. No wonder I can’t make a commitment or stay in any one place for long. No wonder I’m afraid to be a mother. “We’re staying in Magnolia Blossom until the end of the summer. Do you want me to wake Amy and Shaun so you can speak to them?”

  “Can’t.” The static on the phone got worse. “I’ll talk to them another time. We’re heading out now. Goodbye, Rachel.”

  “Goodbye, Mother,” Rachel said to a dead line.

  Her hands quivered as she replaced the phone on the wall. She was so cold. She hugged her arms to her, feeling the anger building inside her. She had been discarded twelve years ago and rarely thought about since. She felt as though she had lost more than Aunt Flora.

  * * *

  Rachel closed the oven door, set the timer on the stove, then began to stack the dirty dishes by the sink. Cooking was her therapy, she thought as she ran her finger around the inside of the metal mixing bowl and popped it into her mouth to savor the chocolate batter. She had been cooking for a long time and still loved to lick the bowl.

  As she placed the dirty bowl into the water, she heard the front door bang open, the pounding of sneakers on the hardwood floor, then the door to a bedroom slam shut. Rachel shook her head. Quiet didn’t exist in a household with children, something she would have to get used to.

  She picked up a paring knife and was about to wash it when she heard pounding on the front screen door. She raced into the living room and saw a giant. A giant with a look to kill and a baseball bat in his hand.

  “Where are those two brats?” Harold Moon’s words filled the space between them like thunder filled a stormy sky.

  “Who?” she squeaked.

  “Your brother and that Hunter kid.”

  “What’s the problem?”

  “The problem is those two.” His face red, Harold raised the baseball bat as though he was going to smash the screen door.

  Show no fear, she chanted silently while she looked to see if either of the boys had at least thought to lock the screen behind them when they had fled into the house. No, there was nothing between her and Harold but a piece of flimsy screen with its latch unhooked.

  “If you’ll just put that bat down, we can talk about this calmly and rationally,” she said, pointing with her knife.

  He glared at her, the bat still in his hand. “Only if you get rid of that knife, lady.”

  “Knife?” Peering at her hand, she saw the parer and was surprised by the fact she had it in her grasp. They must look a sight, she with her small knife and he with his big baseball bat. Finally, she found some humor in the situation and smiled. She stepped to the table in the entrance hall and placed the parer on it. “Now it’s your turn,” she said in a soothing voice meant to placate a raging bull.

  After tossing the bat into the yard, he turned, a frown etched deeply into his face. “Those two boys hit a ball through my picture window and missed hitting me by mere inches.” A vein in his temple throbbed, the red flush in his cheeks deepened, and his already loud voice was getting louder with each word.

  “Please come in and let’s discuss this calmly.” She managed to speak around the dryness in her mouth.

  He stormed into the house, his bulk making the entrance hall awfully small. “Where are they?”

  Now that she was facing him, she could see no humor in the situation. She didn’t know if she could appease this man and she certainly wouldn’t be able to stop him from doing anything he chose to. She pasted a calm expression on her face and waved her arm toward the living room. “Let’s have a seat in here and talk about this picture window the boys allegedly shattered.”

  “There is no allegedly about it, lady. I saw them. Plain and simple.”

  Rachel moved past Harold and sat on the couch, hoping he would do likewise. “Well, then, with that settled we can discuss how to fix it.” Out of the corner of her eye she saw Shaun and Garrett peeking into the room.

  “They should have to pay for it.” He remained standing with his eyes narrowed to slits.

  Thankfully, the man’s back was to the boys. There was no telling what Harold would do if he saw Shaun and Garrett. “I totally agree with you, Mr. Moon. The boys will pay to have the window fixed. Please get it replaced and send me the bill.” Her neck was sore from looking up at the man. She finally stood when she realized he was not going to sit. “I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again.” She heard the pounding sneakers making a beeline for Shaun’s room as she and Harold approached the entrance hall.

  The man started to go after the boys. She placed herself in front of him. Show no fear, she repeated as she felt the anger emanating off him in waves.

  “I believe we have concluded our business. I’ll be expecting the bill, Mr. Moon. Good day.” She began inching herself and him toward the front door.

  He threw one last glare toward where the boys had been only a moment before, then stalked to the screen door. “I will. It will cost you a pretty penny.”

  “I’m sure it will,” Rachel muttered as she watched the man storm across the street.

  She gripped the screen to steady her trembling body. Shock was definitely setting in as the seconds of silence ticked away. She used the silence to calm her nerves. She glanced at the gaping hole in Harold Moon’s picture window.r />
  “I can’t believe you stood up to him, Rachel,” Shaun said behind her.

  Slowly, she turned. Garrett stared at the polished hardwood floor by his feet as if he could see his reflection and was amazed with the discovery. Her brother’s eyes were round, a look of awe on his face.

  “He was gonna kill us.” Garrett’s gaze remained fixed on the floor while he scuffed the toe of his tennis shoe into the hardwood.

  “Nonsense. I wasn’t going to let him.” Rachel closed the thick wooden door, locked it, then walked toward the couch before she collapsed.

  “Yeah, I know,” Shaun said in that awestruck voice.

  Garrett finally looked up. “We didn’t mean to hit the ball through his picture window.”

  “Of course not. No one intends to do that. But it did happen, and you two have to pay for it.”

  “How? My allowance is only five dollars a week. I’d be in debt until I graduate from high school.” Shaun plopped down in the chair across from her.

  Rachel smiled, relief finally sweeping through her. “Nah. Not that long. I’ll talk with Garrett’s dad, and we’ll work something out.”

  “When?” Shaun asked, sitting on the edge of the chair.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Do it now,” Garrett said. “I want to get this over with. Dad isn’t gonna be too happy about this. It’s best if he knows right away. Will ya tell him for us?”

  Rachel wanted to groan. “I think you two should be the ones to tell him.”

  “We will, but please come with us,” Shaun said as he jumped to his feet.

  “We’ll have to wait a few minutes until the cake is finished. I’ll be there for moral support only. It’s your job to explain what happened.”

  Both boys nodded.

  As Rachel left the room to see about the German chocolate cake, she felt apprehensive about this meeting with Michael. Her emotions were still raw from the evening before and the phone call from her mother earlier that morning. She needed time between meetings with him in order to recuperate. But she couldn’t turn down Shaun’s request. The very fact that he’d made it gave her hope that she was making progress with her little brother. Now if only Amy would hit a ball through Harold Moon’s picture window and live to tell about it.

  * * *

  Rachel pulled up to Whispering Oaks and parked in the circular drive. When she climbed from her car, she took a moment to look at the place that had once been a familiar favorite haunt of hers. Michael had taken good care of the plantation. The house was freshly painted, and the black fences that kept his horses and cattle in were well tended. The red azalea bushes that ringed his home were beautiful.

  She turned slowly as memories inundated her. She could remember watching him ride a stallion in the paddock to the left. She could remember their first kiss on the veranda. From the beginning Michael had been very determined, knowing exactly what he wanted. Rachel looked away, and her gaze fell upon a stone bench in the rose garden to the right of the house. That was where he had told her he loved her. That had been where her panic began to grow. Those words had made her feel tied down to Magnolia Blossom. They had threatened her dream.

  Rachel heard the sound of a horse approaching and swung around to see Michael riding toward her. He dismounted. While he strode to her, she shoved the memories to the back of her mind.

  “What brings you out here? I thought Garrett was spending the night with Shaun,” he said, worry creasing his brow as he glanced at his son to make sure he was all right.

  “Harold Moon paid me a visit this afternoon, and he wasn’t too happy.”

  “The man never is.” Michael removed his leather work gloves and tapped his leg with them.

  “I’ll let the boys tell you why.”

  Garrett stared at his left shoe, which he was digging into the dirt. Shaun looked away as though the horse in the paddock was the most fascinating creature he’d ever seen.

  “Okay, what happened?” Michael asked with a sigh.

  Shaun looked at Michael. “We were practicing. You should have seen Garrett’s hit. The best ever.”

  “And where did that hit land?” Michael relaxed his stern expression, some of the tension siphoning out of him. “Garrett?”

  Garrett quit digging the hole and mumbled, “Through Mr. Moon’s picture window.” He finally raised his head. “I got under that ball, and you should have seen it sail through the air.”

  “Yeah, right into someone’s living room. Whatever possessed you two to toss a ball near that man’s house?”

  “You should have seen Rachel. Mr. Moon came over to the house furious. If she hadn’t been there, no telling what he would have done to us,” Shaun said, awe still in his voice.

  Michael’s jaw clenched, his regard on Rachel’s face. “What happened?”

  “Why don’t you two go get the computer game you wanted earlier from Garrett’s room?”

  After the boys raced into the house, Rachel said, “Nothing happened. Mr. Moon was just a little angry that his window was broken. I took care of him.”

  “Harold Moon is always just a little angry about nothing, so I suspect it was more than a little.” Michael shook his head. “They had no business in Harold’s yard. They know he doesn’t like anyone trespassing on his property.”

  “They weren’t in his yard. They were playing in Aunt Flora’s.”

  “Garrett hit the ball across the street? That’s several hundred feet.”

  “Yeah,” Rachel said, remembering she, too, had been impressed when she had pulled out of the driveway and had looked at the distance. The houses in the neighborhood sat on lots of several acres.

  Michael whistled. “For him, that is far.”

  “Well, quit being impressed. We need to come up with a solution to how the boys will pay for the window.”

  He thought a moment, his head cocked. “I have some chores on the riverboat that need to be done. I was going to hire temporary help, but it might as well be the boys. But Shaun really doesn’t have to do anything, since Garrett’s the one who hit the ball.”

  “No, both of them were playing. Shaun pitched the ball to your son, so he’s as guilty as Garrett. Besides, it won’t hurt either one to do some work this summer.”

  “Then it’s settled. I’ll pay for the window, and they can work it off with me. Anything else?” Michael began to put his leather gloves on.

  Wishing desperately for the ease they used to have between them, she looked toward the paddock, almost showing as much interest in the horse as Shaun had earlier. “Do you get to ride much?”

  “Usually every day.”

  “I remember that time Ladybug threw me. My bottom was sore for a good week.”

  He lifted one eyebrow. “Rachel, I’m shocked. I can’t believe you would dwell in the past. I thought it wasn’t important to you.”

  She speared him with a glance she hoped conveyed her displeasure. “It’s hard not to think about the past when you return home after ten years and every time you turn around you’re slapped in the face with it.”

  “No one ever stopped you from coming back to Magnolia Blossom. Flora, Amy and Shaun would have loved it.”

  But not you? She wanted to ask but kept her mouth shut by clamping down so hard her jaw hurt. “It would have done no good,” she finally said.

  “Seeing your family or seeing me?”

  CHAPTER SIX

  “Michael, I thought we agreed not to get into this. Remember, friends?”

  “Yeah, you’re right. It’s been a tough day, and I’m taking it out on you. My apologies.”

  “What happened?”

  In frustration he waved his glove-clad hand. “Mary Lou’s making demands. Nothing I can’t handle.”

  First Rachel had reappeared in his life, and now Mary Lou. His orderly routine was completely disrupted. He couldn’t keep the anger from churning his stomach. He’d spent years coming to peace with how things had turned out for him and Mary Lou. Rachel had her dreams, but so d
id he. He had failed in his marriage and in his dream to have a large family. He would not let his son down. He would hold his small family together no matter what. And even though Mary Lou was Garrett’s mother, Michael wasn’t sure she was good for his son. He could still remember finding her drunk one afternoon while Garrett was crying in his crib. The memory shuddered through him.

  Rachel placed her hand on his arm and drew his attention. “Maybe a friendly ear could help.”

  “I don’t know if anyone could help me with this problem.” Forgiveness was an intricate part of his faith, but he didn’t think he could forgive Mary Lou in this case. That didn’t sit well with his conscience.

  “Now that sounds like me talking. We can all use a friend.”

  Remembering all the times he’d been shut out of Rachel’s life, Michael clenched his jaw and shook her hand from his arm. He arched a brow. “Even you? I seem to recall you’re not big on talking over your problems.”

  “I’m trying.”

  Hurt flittered across Rachel’s face, but Michael hardened his heart to it. “I’d better get Avenger back to his stall. If he misses his dinner, he’s one unhappy horse.”

  “Speaking of dinner, would you like to come over this evening? I’ve made a German chocolate cake.” The second the invitation was out of her mouth she wanted to take it back.

  A look descended on his face that chilled her in the humid, warm air. “No. I really must be going.” He spun on his heel, walked to his stallion and vaulted into the saddle. “Send me the bill.” He spurred his horse into a canter.

  Michael disappeared around the side of the house, and Rachel felt as though he had slammed a door in her face. She wished she’d handled the baseball incident over the phone. She’d wanted to help him, but he had made it clear he didn’t want her help. There was a time when he had turned to her. The past few minutes only emphasized how different they’d become.

  * * *

  Rachel stared at the table of food and wondered what army she was going to feed. Shaun and Garrett had begged off the beef Wellington she had prepared and had fixed themselves peanut butter and banana sandwiches. Armed with tall glasses of milk, the two boys had headed outside to eat on the patio since she had decreed no more food in the bedrooms.