A Glimpse of the Dream by L. A. Fiore


  “Teagan, focus. What did you find hypocritical?”

  “That he didn’t want my help, but he doesn’t seem to have a problem accepting help from others.” I twirled my glass around in a circle; it escaped my fingers and slid right off the bar. I pointed to Simon when Tammy’s eyes sliced over to us as it crashed to the floor. “He did that.”

  Simon rolled his eyes heavenward. “Don’t do that, they’ll get stuck up there,” I said. Spinning in my stool, I lifted my leg every time I came around to Simon and nailed him in the shin.

  He grabbed the stool so abruptly I almost went sailing right off it. “Home,” he said. Tammy slid him the largest bottle of water I had ever seen. “If I drink all of that I’ll float home. That might be fun. Let me have that. Thanks, Tammy. Simon will pay you back for the glass he broke.”

  She grinned at me. Halfway to the door, I remembered who she was. Grabbing the doorjamb as Simon was trying to pull me out of it, I called back to her. “Health class, eighth grade.”

  “Yup. You were clearly out for the lesson on overdrinking.”

  “Yeah, I was probably out drinking.” I roared with laughter. Simon, having had enough, tossed me over his shoulder.

  “You Tarzan, me Jane. Or do you want to be Jane? I think I could be a pretty macho Tarzan.”

  “I love you, Teagan, but if I live through this night, it will be a miracle.”

  “Sometimes I wish I had been in the car with my parents. Especially these last nine years—never coming here, never meeting Kane, how much easier that would have been.”

  I felt Simon roughly pull me from his shoulder, his hold on me like a death grip. “I never want to hear you say that again. You fucking hear me, Teagan?”

  “I’m not saying I want to die, only that I don’t think it would have been so terrible if I had.”

  “We aren’t talking about this now, with you drunk, but when you’re sober, we’re going to have a nice long chat.”

  “Okay, with cookies, or maybe Sunshine will bake us one of her chocolate cakes.”

  “You’re assuming we’ll back in Boston.”

  “Probably. Once Mrs. Marks is better.”

  “And Kane?”

  “He’s not my Kane anymore. I think that ship has sailed—was attacked by pirates and then sunk to the bottom of the cold, dark sea.”

  “Is this the alcohol talking?”

  “Maybe, or maybe I’m just tired of having my heart broken by the one person I actually offered it to. He loved me once. If he still did, wouldn’t he be pulling me close now? Wouldn’t he have come for me, found his way to our door, and begged me to come home? If he loved me like I love him, how could he bear knowing I was out there and all he had to do was reach for me. No, I was right, feelings suck. I’m getting five cats when we get home. I hope you aren’t allergic.”

  No response from Simon. He helped me into the car before he climbed in and started up the engine. He didn’t pull from the curb, though. “Again—when you’re sober, we’re going to talk.”

  “And when I’m sober, I promise to listen.”

  Unlocking the door, I put my fingers to my lips and said in a really loud whisper, “We need to be quiet.”

  Starting up the stairs, I had the most excellent idea. Before Simon could stop me, I ran to the landing of the stairs, before it split off to either side of the foyer, and straddled the railing. I remembered wanting to do just this that first night I’d arrived at Raven’s Peak.

  “Teagan, what the hell are you doing?”

  “I always wanted to do this.” And so I sailed on down the railing and landed at the bottom hard on my butt. The sharp pain that radiated up my back felt oddly good.

  “Are you hurt?” Simon was at my side faster than I’d ever seen him move before.

  “I’m fine.”

  “Tea?” I loved the tingles that worked down my spine whenever Kane said my name. Looking past Simon, I saw Kane standing in the hall by the kitchen.

  “Hey, Kane. What are you doing on the mainland?” And for some reason I found this question hilarious. I rolled onto my back, which hurt like a mother, and roared with laughter.

  “Is she okay?” Kane asked Simon.

  “Drunk, really fucking drunk.”

  “She do that often?”

  “Only when she’s hurting.”

  Zeus joined us and started licking my face. “Simon, we should get a dog too, a dog and five cats. Maybe I could train them to retrieve baked goods from Sunshine.”

  Simon lifted me to my feet. “Time for bed.”

  “Yeah, you look tired,” I said, then giggled again because I thought I was funny.

  “Night, Kane,” Simon said as he started to lead me up the stairs, but I stopped walking and turned to Kane.

  “Why are you here?”

  “I was playing chess with Mr. Clancy.”

  “You play chess? How?”

  “I tell him where I want the piece and he places it. He tells me the moves he’s making. I see the board in my head.”

  “He helps you with playing chess and you’re okay with that? No barking at Mr. Clancy on how you don’t need his help? No, of course not, you save that for me. You went through hell and kept me at a distance, but did it ever even occur to you that I was in hell too? You had everyone here—the whole damn town—to help you through it. You left me broken and alone. You claim you don’t want this life for me, and yet you have no idea how bad the life you forced on me was. If not for Simon, I don’t think I’d be standing here right now.”

  Pain washed over Kane’s face. Wiping at my eyes, bitterness fueled my next words. “I’d offer to help you home, but I don’t want to be mistaken again for a dog. You were my lap dog once, remember? It shouldn’t still hurt after all this time, and yet it does.” I started back up the stairs. “We got any of those bottles from the other night, Simon?”

  I didn’t look back at Kane, but I knew he was still in the same spot looking in the direction he had last heard me. And in that moment I really just didn’t care what he was thinking.

  “If I ever do this again, kill me. Just take a spoon and scoop out my brain.”

  My head was in the toilet. I’d made it to my room before the entire contents of my stomach decided to rise up my throat.

  “I’m not going to scoop out your aching brain, but I am going to so enjoy rubbing this in your face. I got video of you dancing. YouTube, baby.”

  “Maybe it will help sales at the store.”

  “Well, with the grace you exhibited sliding down the banister and landing quite soundly on your ass, I’m thinking no.” Simon stopped gently stroking my back. “Are you okay? That was pretty intense down there.”

  “I honestly don’t know. I know he’s pushing me away because he’s afraid, but I really don’t want to hurt anymore. I’m so tired of hurting.” And then my stomach roiled. I was going to either vomit or turn myself completely inside out. And just taking a moment to visualize that—gross.

  Long fingers threaded through my hair, holding it gently from my face, but they weren’t Simon’s fingers. Kane caressed my back as I dry heaved. He didn’t want my help, but he was willing to offer his own. What was that all about? I opened my mouth to ask that very question, but before I could speak, Kane asked, “Water?”

  “Where’s Simon?”

  “Went down to get you some aspirin.”

  “Maybe the timing is wrong, but you need to tell me. If you really don’t want me here, I need to know. I thought you were going to try, but you aren’t trying, so are we really over?”

  “It’s not that simple.”

  “Explain it.”

  “I want you here, Tea, want that so bad at times it nearly chokes me. I’m trying. You were right when you said I’ve been hiding. I have. It was easier to isolate myself, partly because I couldn’t find my way anywhere else, but also because being seen as Kane the Blind Man, rather than as just Kane, is hard.

  “I want a life with you, and I know that to do t
hat I need to step out of the shadows. Yet sometimes it’s just too easy to fall back on what’s familiar, to push away rather than pull close. And with all that being said, you have a home in Boston, a business, friends. How can I ask you to give all that up for me?”

  “Who says I have to give them up?”

  “I can barely make my way around here, finding my way in Boston . . . I’m not there yet and may never be.”

  That hurt, but I moved past it. “There are options. It is possible to have your cake and eat it too. I’m willing to investigate those options. Simon is as well. If we’re on board to find a compromise than you need to be too. Maybe we are different, Kane, but I know it doesn’t matter, because you are the one for me. Your hesitation is really only yours.”

  His head lowered so I couldn’t see his face. I knew he did it on purpose, but I couldn’t say why.

  “Why won’t you let me help you?” I asked. “You will have to answer that question eventually.” His face lifted to mine. I didn’t have a clue what he was thinking.

  And then my stomach pitched and the conversation was over.

  Later, after copious amounts of water, I slid into bed. Simon had offered to stay with me, but it was late and he had done enough. My thoughts turned to Kane. I really had no idea what was going on in his head, but whatever it was, he really seemed to be struggling with what he seemed to want and what he thought he could have. I knew what I wanted. I wanted Kane. I was willing to fight for him, for us, and, at the same time, if he wasn’t willing to fight for me, I was prepared to let him go. And just the thought of that was devastating.

  I was just slipping into sleep, when I felt my bed dip. At first I thought it was Simon, ignoring my suggestion that he sleep in his own room for the much deserved rest he had earned from babysitting me, but as soon as I felt the body pressed up against mine I knew it was Kane. His arm wrapped around my stomach and pulled me closer, the familiarity of the movement making my throat tighten. It had been far too long. “Love you, Tea,” he whispered in my ear.

  For that night, it was all that mattered.

  Waking in the morning, only I was in my bed. Perhaps Kane had never been there. Maybe I just imagined him in my drunken stupor. My head pounded, my stomach ached, and . . . so did my ass?

  Climbing from bed, I didn’t bother dressing. I spotted Simon first as I entered the kitchen—sitting at the table stuffing his face with waffles. He greeted me with a big, stupid grin.

  “Hey, sunshine. How you feeling?”

  I wanted those waffles. I flicked him off.

  “Rough night?” Mrs. T asked, but since she and Simon had become BFFs, I was certain she had had a play-by-play of my adventures.

  “Not my best morning.”

  “Can I get you something to eat?”

  “Please. Bacon and sausage and fried eggs and a bucket, since I’ll probably not hold that down long.”

  “Delightful,” she muttered as she started for the fridge.

  It was my turn to smile. “That’s me, a real charmer.”

  “How’s your ass?”

  Narrowing my eyes at Simon, I asked, “Why did you ask me that?”

  “You don’t remember your graceful slide down the banister last night?”

  “I really did that?”

  “Yep.”

  “Well, that explains the pain in my ass. It’s not just you this time.”

  “Cute.” Simon stuffed half a waffle in his mouth and chewed it with his mouth open, for my benefit.

  “I’ll hurl on you,” I warned.

  “I’m like a cat, you’ll never hit me.”

  “Was Kane there last night?”

  Mellowing, Simon said, “Yeah.”

  “I thought he was a hallucination brought on by too many tequila shots.” And yet feeling as shitty as I did, a lightness filled me as I remembered our conversation. Kane was trying, was willing to try for us, and that was a step in the right direction.

  At that moment, Mr. Sleazy walked into the kitchen. The sight of him at the house so early annoyed me, so much that I didn’t check myself and asked, “What the hell are you doing here?”

  To say he was surprised at the hostility rolling off me was fair. “I’m working.”

  “What exactly are you doing that requires you to be in the house as often as you are? Correct me if I’m wrong, but you are only updating an existing document, yes? You aren’t writing Mrs. Marks’s life story, or the sequel to War and Peace, so why are you here? Specifically, why are you here now at”—glancing at the clock, I saw it was only seven thirty in the morning—“this hour?”

  His feathers were definitely ruffled. Guess he wasn’t used to being questioned. “I was given full access to the house.”

  “For what purpose?”

  “As I mentioned, I’m working on something else for Mrs. Marks, and I shouldn’t be saying this since it’s privileged, but she wants everything cataloged.”

  “Why?”

  “To sell.”

  The clatter of the spoon against the floor was a good indication that the news came as much of a surprise to Mrs. T as it did me.

  “She wants to sell her things?”

  “Everything, including the house.”

  “Really? And when did you discuss this?”

  “Before her heart attack.”

  “And was anyone else around when you discussed this?”

  “Teagan, stop,” Simon interrupted. “She’s not feeling very well this morning. Please excuse her.”

  Mr. Sleazy lifted his nose in the air, like a bad smell had just offended him. I knew I was the bad smell, but I didn’t care. He turned on his heel and left. My focus shifted to Simon.

  “Why did you do that?”

  “Confronting him isn’t the best way to handle the situation.”

  “Meaning?”

  “If he’s working something shady, give him enough rope to hang himself.”

  Resting my head on my hand, I just stared at my friend. “You’re like Kojak.”

  He flashed me his pearly whites. “Seriously, I’ll look into him, into his credentials. We’ll watch him. Mr. Clancy already is. If he’s up to something, he won’t get away with it.”

  At that moment, Mrs. T placed my breakfast in front of me. “Sorry I didn’t help you with making it,” I said.

  “You can help when you aren’t hungover.”

  “Deal.”

  And then I dug into my breakfast. As I suspected, I threw it all up a half an hour later.

  Simon and I climbed from the boat on Kane’s island two days after my bender. He was looking back from where we came.

  “You used to swim from there to here?”

  Remembering the countless hours Kane had taken to teach me to swim brought a smile. “Yeah.”

  “Impressive.”

  Studying the house, I wondered who kept the place for Kane. Right as I thought that, the front door opened and out walked Mrs. T, which prompted me to ask, “Hi, Mrs. T. You tend to his house?”

  “I buy his groceries when I’m in town if he hasn’t yet and work the gardens. The boxes and that garden near the door are lovely.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Kane does quite a bit on his own, but there are just some jobs that I can do so much faster and this way he’s free to pursue other things more exciting than cleaning toilets.”

  It felt as if her last comment was a verbal hand slap, but I still asked, “Other things?”

  “Yeah. He’s there now, the boatyard. Go see.”

  A half an hour later, my heart swelled with joy to see Kane working on a beautiful boat, his fingers sure as he moved slowly up and down, sanding the long strip of teak. He was building his boat; even blind, he was building his boat. He hadn’t lost that dream.

  “I’ve never seen anything like that. To look at him, you’d think he could see,” Simon said.

  “He always wanted to build a boat.”

  “When there’s a will, there’s a way.”


  Mr. Miller saw us walking toward Kane and said something to him. His head lifted, like a sighted man’s would. His hand stilled on the wood he worked.

  “Hi, Kane.”

  “Tea.”

  “You’re building your boat,” I said.

  “Yeah.” His hands moved lovingly over the wood. “It’s taking far longer than it should, but I love it.”

  “It’s beautiful.”

  “Is it?”

  “Very. The grain of the wood has lots of striations and the color is a warm brown. The curve of the hull, softly sloping comes to a gentle point. You’ve stained it darker, a rich mahogany, which is the exact color of the boat you showed me once.”

  I was so focused on the boat, I didn’t notice Kane until I saw the look on his face as I described his boat to him, knew he was seeing it exactly as I did. “It really is beautiful, Kane.”

  And then I saw the name, penciled on the backboard. He had told me that the name needed to mean something. Seeing the name he chose, my heart ached with love. My Tea.

  I wanted to throw myself into his arms, wanted to proclaim my love for him, wanted him to pull me close, to love me, to take up where we’d left off, but instead I banked all those feelings, put them aside for later, and focused on the part of me he needed now.

  “Simon and I were going to the diner for lunch. Will you come?”

  No was on his tongue, I could see his lips practically forming the word, but he stopped himself. Instead, he placed the paper he was using down and stood.

  “I may need a hand finding the place.” My heart sighed.

  Slipping my hand into his, I smiled up at him and knew somehow he knew I was. He squeezed my hand and smiled back.

  Simon moved to join us. “Lead the way, Teagan.”

  The diner looked exactly the same, and I was happy to see our booth was unoccupied. Once we’d settled, I found our names that Kane had carved into the table when we were younger and traced them with my finger.

  Reaching for his hand, I pressed his finger on the carving.

  “Our booth,” he said softly.

  “Yep. Place looks exactly the same.”

 
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