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by Lazette Gifford


  Chapter 15 -- Interlude 5

  Derrick signed the paperwork, said nice things to the nurse and doctor and took himself out of the clinic as quickly as he could. The day had turned warmer than the last few, and the sun felt good on his face. He stood for a moment in the open air, breathing in. Good air. No taste of cars, no sounds of yelling like down in Florida. He felt peace for the first time in years.

  Derrick spotted a café about three blocks away. Good.

  He hadn't called his kids yet. He had spent the night at the clinic, and even half-drugged he knew he shouldn't call and talk to them. He had spoken, briefly to Ann, so she knew what had happened, but not his kids. They knew hospital sounds too well. He didn't want to scare them.

  He felt like he'd been dragged through the countryside by a truck, rather than by Ginger Ayres. He knew he wouldn't have survived without her and he needed to thank her. He'd be going back to Redlin soon, and for some odd reason that made him smile.

  He reached the café as some others came out. He held the door for the older couple who were leaving. They smiled and thanked him, and then the guy caught the door for him, seeing his arm in a sling. Derrick smiled and went in.

  The place smelled good. He'd have breakfast after he talked to the kids. And he'd guessed right. They had a phone in the corner.

  The kids came running to the phone, yelling and too boisterous -- worried, he knew, but they calmed after he joked with them for a couple minutes. He could hear the relief in their voices.

  Then he asked to talk to their aunt.

  "Do what you need to take them to Hawaii," he said, swallowing afterwards. "I think they'll have a good time."

  "Derrick --"

  "I'm not going to be back to work for a while, you know. I think -- I think I'd like to take some time off myself. I need to start rethinking my life and get things worked out. I'm going to stay being a cop, Ann. But I need to start looking beyond my work, too."

  Ann didn't speak for a moment. "Good," she said, and he thought he could hear a smile in her words. "You know, maybe you should fly out with us when we go. I think they'd feel better. And as long as you're taking the time off --"

  "I don't know if I can afford --"

  "Derrick, stop lying to yourself." She sounded a little more stern than normal. "Share a little of this time with your kids, because they're going to grow up fast. They deserve to have some happy memories, don't you think?"

  "Yes. Okay. I'll think about it," he said, feeling like he didn't dare say anything else without risking a lecture.

  Besides, she was right.

  "Good then. How are you doing?"

  "Better. I'll be here for a few more days. Maybe a week or more. I want to take care of my grandfather's things. Get a closure here."

  "Who are you lying to this time?" Ann asked.

  "I'll talk to you later. Go tell the kids we're all going on vacation together. Let me know when and I'll make certain I have the time off."

  "That's great! Wonderful!" She laughed. "I'll talk to you soon. Be careful!"

  She hung up before he did. Derrick couldn't imagine why she had sounded so excited about him going along with them. She'd been right about something important, though. He needed to stop putting distance between himself and his kids. He didn't intend to yank them out of their life with their aunt and uncle, but things needed to change.

  And a sign of all the changes came in the café just as the waitress led him to a table. Miller gave a wave and came over, sitting down without an invitation. Ten years ago... well, he'd been a different person ten years ago.

  "You're looking better today Mr. Weston," he said with a grin.

  Derrick shook his head. "I am not a Weston you know. I never was one. My mother married Tom Weston years after I was born."

  "Oh. Yeah. I knew that." Miller frowned. "Why did everyone call you Weston, then?"

  "Tom wouldn't allow them to call me anything else, not at home, not a school -- you didn't fight Tom Weston in those days. It wasn't worth the harassment."

  "So what is your name?"

  He grinned. "Derrick Dare."

  Miller laughed. "Well that suits you far better than Weston. And there's a lot of Dares around Redlin."

  "I wouldn't know. I don't know anything about my father. I don't remember him at all. My mother told me he had been in the forces or something, and died stationed somewhere else. Never came home."

  "Are you going to try and track him down?"

  "Yeah, later, probably. Am I going to have access to my grandfather's things now?"

  "I think so," Miller replied. He frowned still. "Derrick Dare. I should have thought about your name before now."

  Derrick gave a little shrug and regretted the pull on his wounded shoulder. The waitress brought coffee, eggs, bacon and toast for Derrick and fetched another cup for Miller. He apparently didn't intend to go, and Derrick realized he didn't even mind the company. They'd both gone a long ways since High School.

  "We got Tom and Junior shipped off this morning. Markie, Sally, Reba and Shep will go this afternoon," Miller said after his coffee arrived. "I came to tell you at the hospital, but you'd already left. I didn't think you'd have gone far, especially without a car."

  "Is Ginger all right?"

  "She's fine," Miller said. "I ran by there this morning and she's getting ready for her part in the Apple Days festivities. I thought I'd give you a ride back to Redlin and your car. I hear they got it fixed. No hurry -- finish your breakfast."

  Yes. Changes. "That would be great. Thank you."

  Chapter 16

  Dad met us at the school's auditorium where we held the Apple Days festival. We'd tried having the celebration outdoors on Main Street a couple times, but we got snow on both occasions. Besides, we raised funds for school projects, and everyone seemed to enjoy being inside.

  The people in charge of the decorations had outdone themselves this year. A half dozen trees stood in the auditorium, all of them decorated with paper leaves and real apples. A huge backdrop stood at the far end, painted to look like the exterior of a castle. I could see my father's hand there. He had a good eye for perspective.

  Outside the castle gate sat a daybed covered in pillows and lace. I made my way to the area, thanking people who expressed their horror at what had happened. Mom put a soda and a box of tissues out of sight but within reach, and caramel-covered apples on a platter before me. For the next three hours I gave those apples away to shy little boys and the little girls who stared at my dress with such longing in their eyes that if I could have, I would have given them each a dress of their own.

  I had the most comfortable place in the auditorium. I didn't envy the father and son who playing at the William Tell legend, who would stay on their feet all day, or Uncle David who had the job of Johnny Appleseed this year.

  When everyone gathered across the room to hold contests, I settled back on the pillows and rested... and did the one thing I feared. I fell into a light sleep, the sounds around me lulling me to rest. I heard my mother say Snow White slept now as she gave an apple to a little girl who asked, with some trepidation, if she were the Wicked Step Mother.

  I almost came awake with a laugh.

  Then I slipped farther away, feeling wonderfully comfortable and content and save, even when someone came up to my bed, the slight brush of cloth against my arm. I could hear my mother whispering nearby --

  And then I felt lips press against mine, with a soft, sweet kiss. I awoke, startled -- and pleased as I looked into Derrick's amused face.

  "You were wrong, you know," he said with a bright smile.

  "Wrong?" I asked softly.

  "I must be Prince Charming after all."

  The End

  ###

  About the Author:

  Lazette Gifford has publications in both electronic and print format, including material from Double Dragon Publishing, Yard Dog Press, Eggplant Literary Productions, Ideomancer, Fables, Andromeda Spaceways Inflight
Magazine and more. She owns Forward Motion for Writers and is the editor/publisher for Vision: A Resource for Writers.

  Connect with Zette

  Web Site: https://lazette.net

  Twitter: https://twitter.com/lazetteg

  Joyously Prolific Blog: https://zette.blogspot.com/

 


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