Dreams Unleashed (20 page)

Eliott moved down the hall, and I heard the bathroom door close.

"Quickly, tell me why there is a six-foot Frenchman in my house?" I asked Elinor quietly.

"He's my boyfriend."

"I figured that part out. Why is he here, and why have I never heard of him until now?"

I remembered Summer and what she had told me in the store.
Had she known about Elinor's boyfriend
?

"I did mention that I had gone on a couple of dates, remember? Let's talk about this when we have more time," Elinor whispered.

"A couple of dates? But now he's here...okay, okay, we can talk about it later. I'm so glad to see you," I said, hugging her.

Elinor had thick brown hair and olive skin, courtesy of her dad's genes. From me, Elinor inherited a heart-shaped face, broad shoulders, and a rounded backside. She was a striking young woman.

Eliott returned from the bathroom, standing close to Elinor, with his arm around her waist. His smile matched hers, even though her mouth was smaller. I looked from Eliott to Elinor, and I could see that she was smitten by this dark, striking young man.

That night Eliott offered to get some cocoa from the store when we decided to make brownie pudding. Elinor and I finally had a chance to speak privately.

"The first thing I want to know is whether you told Summer about Eliott?" I demanded, good-naturedly.

"No, Mom. You're the first to know."

"Are you sure, because she said something to me about you bringing a boy home."

"She did?"

"Uh-huh."

"Maybe she's psychic," Elinor teased. "Mom, did you notice that both Eliott's and my names begin with E, just like yours and Dad's names both start with an A?"

"Oh goodness gracious, Elinor. That's a silly little thing that Armond and I used to joke about; it has no significance."

"Mom, both you and Dad always told me that it's the unusual that you should pay attention to," she countered.

She had me there.

"How serious is it, Elinor?" I asked softly, looking into her eyes.

"He's the one, Mom," she replied, blinking evenly at me with her large hazel eyes and unusually long eyelashes.

"Why haven't you told me about him before now?"

"I know I should have. But I've just been so caught up with school---"

"And Eliott, I think," I interrupted.

"Honestly, I just wanted you to see him, in person, instead of me describing him over the phone."

"You're so beautiful," I said, holding the right side of her face with my hand, unable to question her further. "Of course Eliott would love you. Who wouldn't? You're smart, beautiful, spiritual, and so insightful. Even from a young age, you were a mature old soul."

"I love you, Mom," she whispered, hugging me.

I hugged her back but refused to be distracted. "What else do you need to tell me?" I asked in her ear, sensing there was more.

"Be nice to him. Get to know him. Because he'll ask me soon, I think, and I'll say yes," she firmly stated.

"Okay, Elinor," I acquiesced, having learned long ago that to argue with her once her mind was set was futile.

"Promise me you'll have a long engagement---at least a year?" I pleaded.

"A year?" she blurted.

"A year," I repeated firmly. "You're only eighteen years old, Elinor."

"Nineteen in a month," she corrected.

"It's two months, Elinor, and if you wait until you're twenty, I'll send you anywhere you want for your honeymoon," I bartered.

"That's the groom's duty, mom."

"I don't care about those sorts of things."

"Well Eliott does..." she said with a stern face.

"Tell me more about him."

"He's college poor, like me, but his family is well off," she said, as we sat facing one another in the window seat overlooking the bay.

"How well off?"

"Well, his family is from Belle-Île; it's a French island off the Brittany coast, the west coast of France."

"And what, Eliott's family owns the Belle-Île island or something?" I joked, gesturing to the islands we could see through the window across Bellingham bay.

"No. They own most of the chicken operations in Brittany," she replied, serious.

"Chicken farmers---that's what his family does? Please tell me they're organic chicken farmers, and not some kind of chicken factory."

"They're the most respected grower of chickens in France. Their operations are worth 1.5 billion Euros, Mom. When you order a chicken at the Ritz in Paris, you get a Belle," she proudly responded.

"Well then. I guess that'll do. Do Eliott's parents own the company? What's the name of it?"

"It's called Belle Poulet, and his father and uncle co-own it. His uncle lives there, in Brittany."

"So, is Eliott intending to continue in the family business after college?"

"He
is
planning to go into the family business, and as he told you, he's a double major: agribusiness and animal science."

"That's good. Let's recap. He's part-heir to a billion-dollar corporation, smart, cute, and he loves my daughter. What's his spiritual condition?"

"Well, he's more practical than I am. But that balances me. He's what I'd call grounded spiritually," she proclaimed.

"Are you thinking of being married in Brittany? Will you move there once you graduate?" I desperately inquired.

"Settle down, Mom. We've decided to live in America, but Eliott will travel to Brittany regularly," she answered patiently.

"And the wedding? Where will that be?"

"Here, Mom, of course," she quietly assured me, meeting my eyes.

"I think I understand why you haven't been calling me now."

Elinor blushed. "I just couldn't tell you over the phone. I had to bring him."

"I can see that. Still...make it one year, when you're twenty. Agreed?"

"Fair enough. He won't like it, but he'll agree," she reluctantly gave her word.

"I'm sure his parents will be grateful."

We had a good visit that week, while I chatted with Elinor and became fond of Eliott. I could see how the two of them meshed, and I could certainly see the mutual affection they had for one another. He seemed like an honest, grounded young man, just like Elinor had said. It was sad when they left the following week, returning to the university.

"Well Lulu, it's just you and me again," I said, petting her.

She whined, as though agreeing with me.

"How about you and I go for a run?" I asked. Her bottom began to wag excitedly.

Chapter 17

WASHINGTON D.C.

The Year 2015

Bennett was sending me to Washington D.C. to speak at the annual conference for the Society for Technical Communication. I had no desire to lecture there, but when the Society asked me, Bennett got wind of it and pushed me ahead, thinking that AlterHydro would gain some free advertising through the exposure. The Society allowed me to choose my own topic, and I prepared a lecture called, "Cut the Fat: How to Put Your Text-Bloated Documents on a Diet." At least it was catchy. I was happy to return back East, to visit with my friends, long-since missed.

I flew into Reagan National Airport in Arlington, Virginia, got a rental car, and drove into Washington D.C. to the Dupont Hotel. It was just a few minutes from my favorite neighborhood, Adams Morgan, where I planned to visit friends during my stay. I pulled my rental car into valet parking at the hotel and was quickly assisted by a valet attendant. I'd never stayed in a Washington D.C. hotel before, since I'd lived in D.C. and had no reason to. But the valet escorted me inside, with Lulu following close behind.

"Miss Torgeson is checking in," the valet told the front desk clerk.

"Good evening, Miss Torgeson," the short, stout clerk beamed. He was balding on top and had bulging eyes.
Homer Simpson's come to life
.

"Hello," I replied with a smile.

"I understand you're here to lecture at the Society for Technical Communication's annual conference. Is that right, Miss Torgeson?"

"Yes, I am," I confirmed. I hoped I was in a good room.

"We're pleased to have you." He punched some of the keys on the keyboard. His eyebrows shot up momentarily, and he looked back to me. "One of the conference sponsors has upgraded you to Level Nine here at the Dupont Hotel," he informed me, clearly impressed.

What's that
?

"Have you stayed on Level Nine before, Miss Torgeson?"

"No, I haven't."

"Let me explain, then. Level Nine is intended for our special guests, you see. We will see to your every comfort through personalized service---" he began.

"I don't mean to interrupt, but I have Lulu, my dog, with me. She's fully trained. Is she going to be allowed on Level Nine?"

"Why of course," he exclaimed. "We aim to take care of every need that you have. We will even walk her for you," he told me cheerfully.

Is he on a happy drug
?

"You're booked into one of our luxury suites on Level Nine, and Brian here will take you and Lulu---was it?"

"Yes, Lulu."

"Aha, very good. Brian will bring you and Lulu up to Level Nine and show you all the amenities."

"Thank you very much," I responded and began to turn.

"Oh, excuse me..." I began, turning back to the desk clerk.

"Yes?" Homer replied. I felt the smile moving over my lips.

"Can you tell me which sponsor upgraded my room? I'd like to thank them."

He began to type something into the computer.

"I'm so sorry, Miss Torgeson. For some reason, there's no information in our system revealing who upgraded the room."

That's odd
.

"Hmmm, okay. Thank you," I replied and turned to follow Brian.

Brian led the way up to Level Nine, talking the whole time about how great it was.

It's just a room
.

When he opened the door to my suite, however, I started smoking the same stuff that Homer and Brian were. The corner room was covered on two entire sides with windows and had a view all the way to the Capitol building and the National Mall. I stopped and gawked at the view. Brian stood near me, nodding his silent agreement.

"I lived in this area for many years and had no idea you could get this kind of view from Dupont Circle," I said.

"It's a nice view," he purred.

The room itself was appointed in leather and other natural textures. The bathroom was pure marble, with a Jacuzzi tub and separate glass-enclosed shower. The room was luxuriously efficient.
I'm gonna enjoy that tub tonight
, I told myself.

As Brian explained the dedicated concierge on Level Nine, I started to zone him out, exhausted from my flight. Brian could see this, and he offered to have my room attendant unpack my luggage for me. I declined, instead opting for a bath. I gave him a tip, hoping twenty dollars was enough.

He glanced at the bill.
Clearly not offended---that's good
.

"Would you like anything else, Miss Torgeson? Perhaps we can walk Lulu for you?"

"I stopped at a park just before we arrived, so she's okay. But thank you, Brian."

"Have a good evening then," he responded cheerfully, closing the door behind him.

Lulu had already found the dog bed they had put in the room, before I even noticed it. I sat next to her for a minute, rubbing behind her ears.

"So here we are Lulu---back in D.C. Does it smell different?"

No answer.

"Thank goodness the airline allowed me to bring you with me in the passenger cabin."

Virgin Atlantic had broken new ground the previous year by issuing an advertising campaign with their new policy of flying not only humans but their pets as well. I'd never flown with Virgin's new policy, so I didn't know what to expect for Lulu. They treated both of us perfectly, and she was allowed in the cabin right next to me, where a seat had been removed. In its place was one of Virgin's new dog bed seats. It was a clever invention, which restrained Lulu with an adjustable harness, so that she would be safe and not wander through the cabin. We were allowed to board first, with the other animal flyers, and a special pet attendant harnessed Lulu and explained that she had to remain restrained throughout the entire flight. The attendant discretely explained that I could purchase a doggy diaper at any time. I giggled at that. She smiled. From my perspective, it was all worth the cost of a second seat.

Lulu snuggled into her bed, her eyes droopy.