Her Lifelong Dream (13 page)

The rest of the class passed all too quickly. Suddenly it
was time to go and Leedy was still laboriously writing in
her notebook. She looked up and saw Jo Anne smiling at
her, patiently waiting for her to finish writing. Terry was
in the front of the room talking with the usual harem of
students, all young, female, and eager to talk with him. She
felt a stab of jealousy when she saw Krissy was standing
the closest, leaning in and listening to something he was
saying. She was smiling, her hand lightly touching his elbow as she tried to monopolize his attention.

"Don't worry about Krissy," Jo Anne whispered. "She
isn't Terry's type."

"I wasn't worried about her," Leedy said, trying to make
her voice sound convincing. "I'm worried about getting to
the coffee bar before it closes."

"We have plenty of time," Jo Anne said patiently.

"Good, because I'd love a vanilla latte," Leedy smiled,
but her glance returned to the gaggle of students at Terry's
desk. "Better make it a large."

"I said, don't worry about Krissy."

"Okay." Leedy said. "I won't. Although I'm not sure
about the comments she made earlier. I'm sure she didn't
mean anything personal by them, but what's up with the
attitude?"

"I don't know about her attitude," Jo Anne said. "But I
do know that her comments were personal ... and they
were directed to you, my dear. Krissy was trying to slam you, Leedy. Evidently, Deanna and I are not the only ones
who have noticed Terry's reaction to you."

Leedy blushed. "He treats me the same way he treats
every one else in the room," she scoffed.

"On the surface, yes," Jo Anne noted.

"Besides," Leedy added. "Look at her. Krissy strikes me
as someone who can hold her own when she sets out to
attract a man."

"Maybe she can attract other men," Jo Anne said. "But
Terry hasn't shown much interest. Did you know this is
the third time Krissy Montgomery has taken this class?"

"You're kidding! The third time?"

"The third time."

"No," Leedy said. "I didn't know that."

"She's been coming on to him for months now. And I
can't help but point out that if Krissy hasn't set off his
bells yet, she probably never will. Of course, he knows
what her real intentions are."

"What real intentions?"

"I'll tell you all about it some other time. But, until then,
don't worry about her, Leedy. Krissy Montgomery isn't
Terry Foster's type."

Leedy wanted to press Jo Anne for more information,
but she noticed Terry had finally gotten Krissy and the
other women out of the classroom and was now headed
their way.

"Are we ready?" he asked.

"Yes," Jo Anne said. "Leedy?"

"All set," Leedy said, trying not to look at him. She
tossed her bookbag over her shoulder.

"Where would you ladies like to go?" Terry asked, leading the way.

"How about ... Oh, no!" Jo Anne gasped, suddenly
stopping. "I just remembered! I promised Ryan I would
help him with his homework tonight. He has a paper for
English that's due tomorrow. I told him I would type it up
for him. I can't go!"

"We can all go out another night," Leedy said, feeling
her stomach sink in disappointment.

"Nonsense," Jo Anne said. "I know how much you want
to continue with the discussion from class. And I also know
what a coffee junkie you are. Why don't you and Terry go
on without me."

"Okay," Terry said before Leedy had a chance to protest.
"Sounds like fun to me."

"Well ... I don't want to keep you from anything ..."
Leedy stammered, looking at Terry shyly. The thought of
being alone with him made her feel suddenly flushed.

"You're not keeping me from anything," Terry said.
"Deanna has a date tonight and I don't have any plans."

Leedy shrugged. "Well, all right," she said, trying to
sound nonchalant.

"Very well then," Jo Anne said. "I'll see you two on
Tuesday night. Have a good weekend."

Leedy thought she detected a look of triumphant amusement on Jo Anne's face, but she was not certain. They
walked Jo Anne to her mini-van and said a quick goodbye.

"Good luck with the English paper," Terry said. "Don't
let Ryan get you to write it for him. I fell for that one
once."

"I'm just the typist," Jo Anne assured him. "He better
have the thing written by the time I get there. See you two
later!"

"Drive safely," Leedy called, and just as quickly as Jo Anne had gotten into her car, she found herself standing
alone with Terry.

"Have you eaten dinner?" he asked.

"No," she admitted. She had eaten a salad and a roll for
lunch at Mr. Hobo's just before the lunchtime rush had
started but that had been many hours ago.

"Are you hungry?"

"Yes," she said. "You could even say that I'm starving."

"I am too," Terry said. "And I know just the place where
we can go. It is a little out of the way, but the food is
great."

"Okay," Leedy said. "I'm always interested in trying out
new, out of the way restaurants."

Terry led the way through the dark parking lot. "We can
take my car," he said, pointing his thumb at an older-model
black convertible Corvette.

"Is that yours?" she asked, pleased.

"Yes."

"Can I drive it?"

"No," he said. "At least not on the first date."

"Is this a date?"

"Yes," he said, leading her to the car.

Leedy smiled. "Oh, boy," she giggled, walking around
to the passenger side. "I can't wait to ride in this! I love
sports cars."

"Me, too," Terry said, opening the door so she could
climb in. "This is Susie. She's a 1976 Stingray and I've
had her since I graduated from college."

She sank into the soft black leather seats and felt a rush
of excitement. She had been driving her old Jeep for as
long as Terry had been driving his Corvette and it felt good
to climb into a car that didn't double as a military vehicle.

"Can you put down the roof?" she asked, like a child
asking for an ice cream cone.

"I think that could be arranged," he said. He unlatched
the front of the ragtop roof from the windshield and pushed
a button. The roof began to retract and Leedy yelped with
joy as the roof came down. He then handed her a grey
overcoat he had gotten from the small dark place behind
the bucket seats. "Use this as a blanket, just in case it gets
cold," he said, his blue eyes twinkling. Terry climbed in
behind the steering wheel and smiled at her. He turned the
key and revved the engine. Leedy loved the sound it made.
"Ready?" he asked over the noise.

"Oh, yes," she said, pulling the coat up under her chin.
"How fast can this baby go?"

"Pretty fast," Terry said. He gave her a wicked grin, then
peeled out of the parking lot with tires smoking and the
engine screaming. From the sound of things, Leedy guessed
they had laid a patch of rubber on the pavement beneath
them.

He checked the road for traffic and possible police cruisers before he steadily began to increase their speed. Leedy
threw her arms into the air and squealed with delight as the
car went faster and faster. The acceleration increased until
the street lights along the side of the road had begun to
look like pickets on a blurry fence.

"You're going to get me arrested," Terry shouted, glancing into the rearview mirror. "Or killed." But he showed
no sign of slowing down the car. Leedy made chicken
noises, and he pushed the Corvette to go even faster. They
drove along the quiet, deserted streets until even Leedy
knew they had to slow down.

"I give up!" Terry yelled over the din of the engine. He took his foot off the accelerator and the Corvette slowed
down. Leedy laughed breathlessly. "I've never taken her
this fast," he shouted, laughing too. "You're a crazy lady!"

The car slowed to a respectable speed and Leedy leaned
against the soft leather seats and closed her eyes. She was
enjoying the feel of the bracing wind against her face.
"How's Deanna?" she called, loud enough for him to hear
her over the wind and the roar of the engine.

"She's fine," Terry said. "And she isn't allowed to drive
my car either."

"How's school going for her?"

"Good, but she isn't home much these days. She has a
lot of homework and she has a job at the campus bookstore,
not to mention a social life that can only be described as
clandestine. I barely see her. We still get together every
Sunday though ... although lately I think she'd rather be
spending her time with her friends."

"She's a teenager," Leedy reminded him.

"I know. I know," he said. "But she could drop me a
line every month of so. Just to let me know how she's
doing. Is that too much to ask?"

"Causing worry is what teenagers do," she sighed. "Ah,
to be young and carefree again."

Terry raised an eyebrow. "If memory serves, I recall
from your loan application, you're only 27."

"I'll be 28 in three months," she said. "And 30 can't be
too far behind!"

"Should I slow down the car?" he asked. "I don't want
to frighten you, old girl."

"No way," she said. "As a matter of fact, why don't you
see if you can take her up to ninety again?" She felt a thrill
as Terry punched the gas pedal all the way down to the floor. It was the most thrilling (if not dangerous) car ride
she had ever had.

Ten minutes later, he pulled off a side road and into a
parking lot. Leedy looked up and saw they were in front
of an old wooden building that was surrounded by a haphazard parking area that was teeming with people.

"Is this it?" she asked. She folded the bulky grey overcoat as best she could and hunted in her purse for a brush
for her wind-blown hair.

"Yes," Terry said. "Believe it or not. This is it."

The building hardly looked like a restaurant at all. It
looked as if it had once been someone's house which, over
many years, had been added onto again and again and
again. There was a rambling front porch and what appeared
to be a complicated system of wooden decks and staircases
that wrapped around the sides of the building. The decks
and staircases led to balconies that were filled with people
seated in small, round tables. Leedy heard laughter and music coming from the balconies. No one seemed to mind the
chilly autumn weather.

Terry parked the car and put the roof back up. He then
walked around and opened the door for her, taking her hand
and helping her from the car. He silently led her to the
front of the building. She looked at the sweeping front
porch and saw a large crowd of people waiting to get inside. "This is San Gimigiano Mill," he said, leading her
past the throng of people and into the front door.

"Hi, Terry," a pretty, auburn-haired hostess said when
they walked in. "Table for two?"

"Hi, Trish," he said warmly. "Yes. Do you have anything
in the solarium?"

"Of course," she said. Moments later she led them through a bustling dining room. It was dark, but cozy, and
reminded her of the restaurant that she hoped to someday
call her own. Leedy knew immediately she would like it
there. The hostess led them past the kitchen and into a large
room in the back of the building. Italian cuisine again, she
surmised from the decor and aromas. Her favorite.

This room was different from the main dining room. The
walls were paneled in what had once been a dark knotty
pine wood but had long ago been painted a bright and
cheerful white. Each wall was lined with large windows.
Hand-painted ivy crept up the sides of the windows and
sometimes even onto the ceiling. There were fewer tables
in this room than in the main dining room and instead of
the soft ivory-colored tablecloths, the linens in the back
room were brightly colored floral prints on a black background.

"How is this one?" Trish asked, seating them at a nice
table next to a window.

"It's fine," Terry said.

"This is lovely," Leedy said after Trish had left. "But I
don't understand how we were seated so quickly. Why
didn't we have to wait along with the others?"

"My father and the owner were best friends growing up,"
he explained. My family has been coming here for years.
I hate to cut in line, but I have a starving crazy lady with
me. Besides, most of those people you saw outside are
waiting to get into the lounge upstairs. They have some
good bands performing here, from time to time, and they're
popular with the college crowd."

A waitress appeared carrying glasses of water. "Hi,
Terry," she said, smiling at them. "Would you like to see
the wine list? We have a wonderful 1990 Chateau Leoville Barton. It's a Bordeaux red wine. If you would prefer a
white wine, we also have a lovely 1993 Lucien Crochet
Chene Marchand Sancerre."

"The white wine sounds good," Leedy remarked, and
Terry ordered a bottle while she examined the menu.
Everything looked delicious. Moments later, the waitress
brought them a basket of bread which he offered to her.
Inside the basket was an assortment of steaming rolls and
muffins and she eagerly chose one.

"I didn't realize how hungry I was," she said, buttering
a piece of soft, piping hot black bread. She bit into it and
Terry watched her with open admiration. A dollop of butter
dropped from the bread and onto her chin.

"Excuse me," she said, embarrassed, reaching for her
napkin.

Terry unfolded his napkin and leaned closer to her.
"You're very pretty when you're ravenous," he said, dabbing at her chin. He gently rubbed the napkin against her
cheek, his hand lingering against her skin.

"I'm sorry," she blushed. He was so close to her that
Leedy needed to catch her breath. Instead, she looked into
his handsome face and found herself instantly drowning in
his blue eyes.

"Um . . . ," he murmured, after a long moment. "The ...
er ... shrimp dishes here are delicious."

"Really?" she asked, her voice catching.