NO MAN AN ISLE
The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the author's consent. Comments are appreciated at...
Chapter 21
To Kurt's amazement, the Petersons accepted the invitation for the following Friday evening. He and Don drove back to Elizabeth City to shop selectively, insisting on perfection. Tommy's previously arranged plans with college friends left Don overjoyed that he could devote the evening solely to Nancy.
The morning of the dinner, Erik came in carrying a florist's box of red carnations and fern. "I thought you might need something for the table. These were all I could find."
Though the swearing had been vicious as he ironed, Kurt achieved the effect he wanted with the hand-tied lace tablecloth. Now, Don set the silver bowl containing the flowers in the center. The roast nearly done and all else in readiness, he and Kurt went to change.
"What an interesting room." Nancy's mother surveyed the library from the doorway.
"I'm afraid it's awfully lived in. We use it for everything." Kurt could not help but compare the library with the perfection of the Peterson's home.
"A home should be lived in." She looked up to the gallery and gasped, "Good heavens! That's a pipe organ."
"My uncle built it after he retired. He refused to touch an electronic."
Nancy stood with Don looking at the tree. "It's grand, Don. I thought ours was large, but it's nothing compared with this. I could see the lights when we crossed the bridge."
"That's a long way. Are you sure it was ours you saw?"
"It had to be. It kept saying 'this is where Don is' as long as I could see it."
Shielded from the others by the tree, Don pulled Nancy close and kissed her, then held the mizpah out. Without a word, she matched her half with his and returned the kiss.
"Don?"
Don ran to the kitchen where Kurt handed him a small well-worn notebook. "Take this to Nancy's father and ask him to select a wine."
The doctor read the list with reverence, his brow creased. "How can one choose from a collection as superb as this? What a rare treat. Some of these are unobtainable now. I wonder if I might see the cellar?"
Don looked puzzled. "We don't have a cellar."
He smiled. "I meant the wine cellar."
"Oh! Sure. Come on." Don led the way to a small room off the kitchen and opened the insulated door. Nancy's father looked longingly at the rack of wines, occasionally withdrawing a bottle gently to view the label. "It's a cruel thing to show a man a collection as fine as this," he sighed when Kurt joined them
.
"I had little to do with it. My uncle was the oenologist."
He weighed the choice carefully, finally indicating a vintage burgundy. "I've long wanted to taste this, if it will go with the meal you have planned."
"You've made a perfect choice." Kurt carefully removed two bottles from the rack and eased the corks from the bottles. "I'm sorry it hasn't had time to breathe properly."
"Decant it gently. Being in the glasses early will help."
Kurt poured a small amount in a wineglass and held it out. Nancy's father held it to the light, inhaled the bouquet, and sipped. A blissful look covered his face. "Exquisite is the only word. This will be an evening to remember."
"I can't recall having ever seen a cloth as magnificent," Mrs. Peterson commented as she was seated.
"My mother bought it years ago in Belgium. All of these are family things." Kurt answered, remembering.
He could not have been more pleased with the way the meal turned out; the enjoyment of their guests evident.
"Where ever did you find such a marvelous cook?" Asked Mrs. Peterson over desert.
Kurt smiled. "Erik and I live in."
"You?" She asked in astonishment. The first time she had seen Don she had asked Nancy if he received enough to eat. "Everything is delicious. You have such diverse talents. Nancy has told us that you play well, and she was delighted by the music on Christmas Eve, Mr. Lindstrom."
"Call me Erik, please. It's a challenge to work up music for a festival Mass. I enjoy it."
"Perhaps you would play for us after dinner?"
"If you like." Now that he had eaten well, Erik was in an expansive mood.
He and Kurt chose some of the music for two instruments that Don had given them. Nancy and her parents listened in attentive pleasure.
Because of clouds that threatened snow, the Petersons left earlier than Don, especially, had wished. At the door, Kurt handed Nancy's father a bottle of wine the man coveted.
"Oh, I couldn't possibly. It's too fine and rare a vintage."
Kurt smiled. "I have several bottles. Consider it a token for having made a difficult trip just to dine with us."
"I assure you the pleasure is all ours. But if you insist."
"I do."
He clutched the bottle, speechless.
"I've had some second thoughts about tonight, dear," her mother said to Nancy after they had garaged the Jeep at their cottage and switched to the car for the trip home. "Tommy is so indifferent about them, I'm glad we had the opportunity to spend some time with them. They are delightful people and the house is lovely. I think it's a shame they live in such an out of the way place."
"I sometimes wish we did, especially when I get called out in the middle of the night," her husband replied. "I think they find something of value there that we wouldn't. It seems to lie in their not needing a constant stream of people around all the time. Can you imagine the absolute luxury of having time to read and think without distraction? No wonder Mr. Lawrence is such a fine teacher."
Nancy basked in her parents' approval of Don, Kurt, and Erik.
The afternoon following their visit, Nancy sat in the den reading while her mother continued working on her crewel. Unable to concentrate, she laid the book aside. "Mother, what do you really think of Don now that you've seen him at home?"
Mrs. Peterson paused in her work. "I hardly know how to answer that, dear. I've seen so little of him when he's called for you and one evening in their home is hardly sufficient for an opinion, but if you insist, I like him. He's certainly a gentleman and he seems quite sure of himself, doesn't he?"
"I don't follow you."
"I didn't mean that he is conceited, dear, just that he's quite self-sufficient despite his handicap. There's no evidence that he depends upon Mr. Lawrence for a thing. Independent is the word I should have used. I think what attracts me most is the love and concern they seem to have for each other. It's strange when you consider how different they are in personality. Don seems very outgoing, while Mr. Lawrence and Mr. Lindstrom appear quite reserved."
"I don't think so, mother. Don told me he was an orphan until Professor Lawrence adopted him. He won't tell me anything about his past, but it must have been terrible for him."
"Then it's no wonder that his feeling for Mr. Lawrence is so strong. I know Tommy doesn't particularly care for Don and I can't understand why."
"Probably because Don doesn't fall at his feet. Tommy has an awful ego."
"Nancy!"
"Well it's true, mother, and you know it. Tommy's such a big
deal at school he thinks everybody worships him. Don doesn't give a darn about big shots or athletes, either. Tommy doesn't know how to talk to anyone as sensitive as Don. None of his friends are, I can tell you."
Her mother looked at her thoughtfully. "You may be right, dear. As much as I dislike saying it, Tommy can be overbearing when he chooses. But back to your question. I must say I was surprised when you brought Don in that first evening. I had never thought you would care for someone smaller than you. Don looks so delicate he reminds me of those Dresden figurines your father gave me."
"He's got a temper, mother. Make no mistake."
"See? I told you it was wrong to ask me to judge on the basis of appearances. Now, I must ask you a question. Does it bother you that Don is handicapped?"
Nancy did not answer immediately, but sat looking at her mother. Slowly, she formed her answer. "It's a dreadful thing to happen to anyone, especially someone like Don. He's so terribly sensitive about it he never lets anyone see him use the hook if he can help it. But, no, it doesn't make that much difference. I love Don for what he is and the way he treats me."
"I admire him for that, also. The only answer I can give you is to say that if you feel that you care for Don, then he is always welcome. You are old enough to know what qualities a person with whom you wish to associate should have. I believe Don has those qualities despite his unfortunate background, and I think he is a person I might have chosen for you by the standards I feel important."
"Oh thank you, mother. When Tommy didn't like him, I thought you and daddy might feel the same way."
"Tommy does not influence our decisions in that regard, dear. You know how rare it is for your father to be so taken with anyone on first meeting as he was with Mr. Lawrence and Mr. Lindstrom. What did Tommy say?"
"He said that Professor Lawrence and Erik were weird, that Don was too little for me and a cripple, and a lot of terrible things."
"We must make allowances for men. Try not to worry about it. Perhaps Tommy will come to realize that Don is a lovely person after all."
"I hope so. I want them to be friends. I'm glad we had this talk, mother."
"So am I, dear. Do you wish to invite Don to go to the club with us for New Year's?"
"I was going to ask you, but I don't think he'll come unless we ask Professor Lawrence and Erik. Don says they always spend holidays together."
"Your father would be delighted to have them join us. He's ecstatic over Professor Lawrence's generous gift. Go call Don so your father can change the reservations if they accept."
To allow one of the new men a brief holiday, Erik had taken his duty to be with the chief. Don and Kurt arrived at the Peterson's at cocktail hour.
Nancy couldn't wait to show Don the portrait that had been framed and hung. "Isn't it perfect there?" The portrait hung over a console table in the entry hall.
"A picture of you is perfect anywhere."
"Be serious. Do you like the frame?"
The work was surrounded by a heavy antique gilt frame of a type Don despised. He looked about at the formal furnishings. "It goes beautifully in this room."
"Thank you, Don. It's been in the family for many years. When I saw your lovely work, I wanted it in that frame and we're fortunate that it fit perfectly," said Mrs. Peterson. "I can't begin to tell you how pleased her father and I are, especially as Nancy has refused to have her portrait painted for so long."
"I was afraid you wouldn't think my work was good enough."
"You should hear the compliments we've had on it. Edith Smythe knew it was your work the moment she saw it. I wouldn't be surprised if you hear from some of my friends wanting you to do work for them."
While they sat chatting, Don set his drink on the floor beside him and turned his attention to Nancy. "Mutt!" Her father's exclamation brought a sudden silence broken by Nancy's giggles. The setter had slipped up behind Don and was busily lapping up the unprotected drink.
"I'm sorry, Don," Nancy said. "I forgot to warn you that Mutt adores anything with alcohol in it. You don't dare set a drink down if he's anywhere around." She reached for his glass. "I'll get you another."
"That's all right. I didn't know a dog would drink."
"Tommy's to blame," the doctor explained. "He left a beer on the hearth just after we got Mutt as a puppy. Mutt drank it and ever since we've had to be careful. If you don't mind forgoing that drink, Don, I think we should be leaving for the club."
Don was impressed with the opulence of the club, looking about with interest as they stood in line for the buffet. When he took his plate and looked the length of the table at the assortment of dishes, he became indecisive.
"What's the matter?" Nancy asked.
"There's so much, I don't know what I want."
"Just try everything. I adore buffets. I make a pig of myself."
The chef sliced the prime ribs and laid a cut on Don's plate. Nancy looked at the portion with scorn. "Come on, Mack, don't be so stingy. That isn't enough for a good taste. "
He grinned at her. "You're right, Miss Nancy. Your boyfriend does need a little fattenin' up."
Don flushed as the chef cut a thick slab of the roast and added it to his plate. Nancy suddenly realized the additional plates needed for the salad and fruit courses posed difficulty for him. "Bill," she called to one of the young waiters.
"Yes, Miss Nancy?"
"How about some help?"
He reached for her plate. "Not mine," she nodded towards Don, "his." He reached for Don's plate, taking hers, also.
"This is a beautiful club." Don said.
"Usually. It's going to be crowded tonight. After the dance, there's a traditional champagne breakfast. We never leave before that's over."
"Hi, Nance," called a passing youth.
"Hi, John."
From the number of greetings she received, it was clear that she was popular with her peers and many others as well. Don was aware that each of them looked at him closely, not without envy.
"You seem to know everybody. I'm really lucky you invited me."
"And who else do you think I'd invite?"
"Looks like you could choose just about anybody you wanted."
"Just anybody won't do, and you know it. It has to be someone special." Her look melted into a smile as she dangled the mizpah from its chain.
Dinner over, they moved into the ballroom where the orchestra was already playing. "Come on, Don, let's dance." Nancy dropped her purse on the table and pulled Don towards the dance floor
They had danced but a few steps when a tall blond young man who had greeted Nancy earlier cut in. Don watched with envy as they whirled away. 'They look great together,' he thought. 'I wonder what she sees in me. I'm smaller than she is, we don't belong to a fancy club, and we don't have the money her old man does.' He looked at the young men scattered throughout the room, then down to the hook before he quickly ran it back into his pocket. Kurt and he were the only ones among these beautiful people who appeared to suffer physical blemish. For the first time, Don was acutely aware of their disparate lifestyles.
"Why, Don, where's Nancy?" Inquired Mrs. Peterson when he returned to the table.
"Some fellow cut in."
"Don't worry, she'll tire of that quickly, then you'll have her for the rest of the evening."
"I hope so."
"Excuse us, please." Doctor Peterson and his wife left to join the dancers.
"Don, we're supposed to dance with our hostess," Kurt said.
"Oh, gosh."
"What are you worried about? You can, but how can I explain?"
"I'll dance with her next and maybe I can sort of make excuses in the conversation."
"Thanks."
Still surrounded by her acquaintances, Nancy had not returned to the table. As the next number began, Don and Mrs. Peterson moved away.
"You're an excellent dancer," Mrs. Peterson complimented.
"Thank you. I'm enjoying this very much."
"We're delighted that you and Mr. Lawrence could come. Nancy would have been quite disappointed if you hadn't. She thinks the world of you."
"I love her, too." Don pressed to satisfy himself. "Mrs. Peterson, I haven't anything to offer a girl like Nancy. I'm poor, and I ..."
"Hush." She pressed a finger across his lips. "Don't degrade yourself. You have many fine qualities which more than offset the irrelevant things you could mention. When Nancy is out with you, I can rest assured that she's safe. I'm sorry I can't say that about some of the boys she's dated in the past. Some of whom, I'm sure, you might feel have more to offer. You're a gentleman, Don. That's why her father and I are pleased that Nancy is interested in you."
"I hope you'll always feel that way."
"I'm certain we shall." When they resumed dancing, she asked, "Doesn't Mr. Lawrence dance?"
"He can't."
"He never learned?" She asked in astonishment.
"It's not that. He lost a leg when he was in the army."
"How dreadful for him. I would never have guessed. I thought I noticed a slight limp earlier, but I never dreamed that was the cause."
"He only limps when he's tired."
They were so engrossed that it was a few moments before they realized the music had stopped. Don followed her back to the table. He caught Kurt's eye and winked.
Kurt responded with a look of relief.
"I was looking for you," Nancy said.
"I lost you, so your mother and I had a dance."
Back on the floor, Nancy explained. "Sorry, love. I thought I'd let you get the dance with mother out of the way so we could have the rest of the evening together." She bent slightly and rested her head on his shoulder.
Just before midnight, a waiter brought a bottle of champagne to the table. "I'm going to anticipate and open it now so that I may offer my own toast." Once the glasses were filled, Dr. Peterson looked at them. "May the new year, like new friendships, improve with age."
Don and Nancy smiled at each other and, linking arms, drank.
"I love you, Don."
"I love you, too, Nancy. I ..." His words were lost in the din of the merrymakers.
To be continued...
Feedback always
welcome:
Posted: 09/12/08