Tell Me Your Dreams

Chapter Eight

FIVE days after Ashley returned from Quebec City, father was on the telephone. "I just got back."

"Back?" It took Ashley a moment to remember. "Oh, Your patient in Argentina. How is he?"

"He'll live."

"I'm glad."

"Can you come up to San Francisco for dinner tomorrow?"

She dreaded the thought of facing him, but she could think of no excuse. "All right."

"I'll see you at Restaurant Lulu. Eight o'clock."

Ashley was waiting at the restaurant when her father walked in. Again, she saw the admiring glances of recognition on people's faces. Her father was a famous man. Would he risk everything he had just to - ?

He was at the table.

"It's good to see you, sweetheart. Sorry about our Christmas dinner."

She forced herself to say, "So am I."

She was staring at the menu, not seeing it, trying to get her thoughts together.

"What would you like?"

"I - I'm not really hungry," she said.

"You have to eat something. You're getting too thin."

"I'll have the chicken."

She watched her father as he ordered, and she wondered if she dared to bring up the subject.

"How was Quebec City?"

"It was very interesting," Ashley said. "It's a beautiful place."

"We must go there together sometime."

She made a decision and tried to keep her voice as casual as possible. "Yes. By the way... last June I went to my ten-year high school reunion in Bedford."

He nodded. "Did you enjoy it?"

"No." She spoke slowly, choosing her words carefully. "I - I found out that the day after you and I left for London, Jim Cleary's body... was found. He had been stabbed... and castrated." She sat there, watching him, waiting for a reaction.

Dr. Patterson frowned. "Cleary? Oh, yes. That boy who was panting after you. I saved you from him, didn't I?"

What did that mean? Was it a confession? Had he saved her from Jim Cleary by killing him?

Ashley took a deep breath and went on. "Dennis Tibble was murdered the same way. He was stabbed and castrated." She watched her father pick up a roll and carefully butter it.

When he spoke, he said, "I'm not surprised, Ashley. Bad people usually come to a bad end."

And this was a doctor, a man dedicated to saving lives. I'll never understand him, Ashley thought. I don't think I want to.

By the time dinner was over, Ashley was no closer to the truth.

Toni said, "I really enjoyed Quebec City, Alette. I'd like to go back someday. Did you have a good time?"

Alette said shyly, "I enjoyed the museums."

"Have you called your boyfriend in San Francisco yet?"

"He's not my boyfriend."

"I'll bet you want him to be, don't you?"

"Forse. Perhaps."

"Why don't you call him?"

"I don't think it would be proper to - "

"Call him."

They arranged to meet at the De Young Museum.

"I really missed you," Richard Melton said. "How was Quebec?"

"Va bene."

"I wish I had been there with you."

Maybe one day, Alette thought hopefully. "How is the painting coming along?"

"Not bad. I just sold one of my paintings to a really well-known collector."

"Fantastic!" She was delighted. And she could not help thinking. It's so different when I'm with him. If it were anyone else, I would have thought, Who is tasteless enough to pay money for your paintings? or Don't give up your day job or a hundred other cruel remarks. But/ don't do that with Richard.

It gave Alette an incredible feeling of freedom, as though she had found a cure for some debilitating disease.

They had lunch at the museum.

"What would you like?" Richard asked. "They have great roast beef here."

"I'm a vegetarian. I'll just have a salad. Thank you."

"Okay."

A young, attractive waitress came over to the table. "Hello, Richard."

"Hi, Bernice."

Unexpectedly, Alette felt a pang of jealousy. Her reaction surprised her.

"Are you ready to order?"

"Yes. Miss Peters is going to have a salad, and I'm going to have a roast beef sandwich."

The waitress was studying Alette. Is she jealous of me? Alette wondered. When the waitress left, Alette said, "She's very pretty. Do you know her well?" Immediately she blushed. I wish I hadn't asked that.

Richard smiled. "I come here a lot. When I first came here, I didn't have much money. I'd order a sandwich, and Bernice would bring me a banquet. She's great."

"She seems very nice," Alette said. And she thought, She has fat thighs.

After they had ordered, they talked about artists.

"One day I want to go to Giverny," Alette said, "where Monet painted."

"Did you know Monet started out as a caricaturist?"

"No."

"It's true. Then he met Boudin, who became his; teacher and persuaded him to start painting out of doors. There's a great story about that. Monet got so hooked on painting out of doors that when he decided to paint a picture of a woman in the garden, with a canvas over eight feet high, he had a trench dug in the garden so he could raise or lower the canvas by pulleys. The picture is hanging at the Musee d'Orsay in Paris."

The time went by swiftly and happily.

After lunch, Alette and Richard walked around looking at the various exhibits. There were more than forty thousand objects in the collection, everything from ancient Egyptian artifacts to contemporary American paintings.

Alette was filled with the wonderment of being with Richard and her complete lack of negative thoughts. Che cosa significa?

A uniformed guard approached them. "Good afternoon, Richard."

"Afternoon, Brian. This is my friend, Alette Peters. Brian Hill."

Brian said to Alette, "Are you enjoying the museum?"

"Oh, yes. It's wonderful."

"Richard's teaching me to paint," Brian said.

Alette looked at Richard. "You are?"

Richard said modestly, "Oh, I'm just guiding him little bit."