The Color of a Dream Read Online Free PDF Page A

said, raising his beer to
his lips and taking a sip. “You were always into rockets and planes
when you were a kid. What do Mom and Dad think?”
    I glanced at the waitress loading up her
tray at the bar. “I haven’t mentioned it to them.”
    “Why not?”
    “Because we don’t talk much,” I replied,
“and even if we did, I don’t think I could stomach giving Dad that
much satisfaction. He might think I was doing it just to make him
happy.”
    Rick laughed. “Well, that wouldn’t do,
because we all know how much you enjoy being a total
disappointment.”
    I shook my head at him, choosing not to
argue because we both knew it was true, to some extent.
Nevertheless, I didn’t appreciate that he felt compelled to point
it out.
    “I’m only joking.” Rick signaled to the
waitress to bring him another beer.
    I finished the last of my salad, wiped my
mouth with the napkin and laid it on the table. “Wonder what
they’ll think of Angela when they meet her.”
    “They haven’t met her yet?” Rick asked with
surprise.
    “No, but Mom invited us for dinner Christmas
Day, so you’ll get to witness all the subtle digs and backhanded
compliments.”
    “Maybe they’ll surprise you,” Rick said.
    “Maybe so,” I replied, “but I’m not holding
my breath. And listen, don’t mention flight school to them. I still
haven’t made up my mind and I don’t want Dad to get out his
conductor’s wand and start directing the show. If I go, I’ll pay
for it myself, and I’ll go when I’m good and ready.”
    “Sure.”
    The waitress brought Rick’s third beer and I
asked him what he was planning to give to Mom and Dad for
Christmas—I had no idea what to get them and I wanted to change the
subject.
    He said he had a couple of hardcovers in
mind. Then he asked me what I was planning to give Angela.
    Looking back on it, I should have told him
it was none of his business. And I never should have taken her to
dinner Christmas Day.

Chapter Twelve
     
    I often wondered, growing up, what it was
about my brother that was so seductive to women. He was good
looking—that was a given—but it didn’t explain why they all seemed
to melt into a puddle of sticky goo when he engaged them in a
conversation about something as simple as the weather.
    I suppose he was born with some sort of
rare, penetrating charisma that few of us are blessed with. It’s
why he later went on to make millions in his profession. He could
convince anyone—men and women alike—to say yes to anything.
‘Another two million per year for that rookie outfielder? Sure, Mr.
Fraser. We’d love to pay that.’
    When Rick and I returned to my apartment
after lunch, I was surprised to find Angela sitting on the sofa
with Bentley, watching television. As soon as we walked through the
door, she hit the mute button on the remote and stood up.
    “Hey,” I said, shrugging out of my jacket.
“What are you doing here?”
    “I’m on my lunch break,” she replied. “I
have to go back in half an hour.”
    I gestured toward Rick who walked in behind
me. “This is my brother, Rick. Rick, this is Angela.”
    “Hi.” She waved at him. “It’s great to
finally meet you.”
    “You, too.” He moved forward to shake her
hand, then he took a seat on the upholstered chair across from the
TV. “So you guys met at work?”
    “Yeah.” Angela sat down again and told the
story of how she locked her keys in her car and I came to her
rescue like a knight in shining armor.
    Rick then asked what high school she went
to. When she told him which one, he asked if she knew so-and-so,
because Rick knew everyone. They chatted for a while about their
mutual acquaintances.
    I went to use the washroom and when I
returned, they were talking about Angela’s yoga classes, and Rick
was interested in trying a class for himself.
    As soon as I stepped into view she checked
her watch and stood up. “Geez, I’m going to be late. Wish I could
stay but I have to go.”
    She hurried