Destiny by chance: A Contemporary Romance Fiction Novel (8 page)

When Bill became both mom and dad to his daughter, not only did his family dynamic change, but his job changed, and his housing changed.  He went from planning for their family to planning for him and his daughter alone.  His entire adult life he had worked for someone else.  After Sydney was born, Bill cut working sixty hours a week to forty so he could spend more time with his new family.  When Justine left him, his mom offered to babysit.  Three months of his mother’s daily infant-child-rearing and health remedy advice accelerated his desire to raise his daughter on his own.

Before Sydney’s first birthday he sold all his investment stock and his house and bought the bed and breakfast.  It was big enough for them to have a place to live and allow them to make a comfortable living.  It was a colonial with a full wrap-around porch, including oversized rockers and swings on every side.  The older Sydney became, the more interested she became, not only in the workings of a bed and breakfast but the people who stayed there.  On many occasions, she would greet the guests with cookies and milk or slip special cards, notes or pictures that she had drawn, under their doors.  And the guests loved her.  Sydney was simply part of what made their stay so special.

It was Friday night, and after prepping for breakfast the following morning, Bill handed the reins off to Deborah, as his presence was required at the Senior Center.  Sydney was staying overnight at a friend’s house.  It was an eight-year-old’s birthday party so he knew they’d be up all night eating cupcakes and popcorn, and watching Disney movies.  As long as he wasn’t the one dealing with ten eight-year-olds on a sugar high it was all good.  Bill wasn’t overly strict on Sydney’s diet, but because she was a little high-strung, he usually rationed her sweet and soda intake. She was always a little grumpier and less attentive when she over-indulged.  He would detox her tomorrow.  Tonight he would have enough to handle with two hundred hungry veterans; hungry for fish, hungry for bingo.  Hungry for companionship.

Bill loved volunteering at the Senior Center.  His father, a veteran of the Army with thirty-seven years of service under his belt, encouraged his three sons to serve their community wherever they could.  His father’s hope that they would follow his path and join the Army never happened.  Bill’s oldest brother, Leonard, went into the Marines and served there faithfully for almost twenty years until his death in Afghanistan in 2004.  Owen, the middle son, went on to college to study economics and sociology and worked at the VA.  Bill, the only one whose career had no military ties, studied economics and finance and worked in banking until he decided to buy a bed and breakfast and raise his daughter on his own.  If only his dad could see him now.

Bill remembered his grandfather’s stories of World War I and II, and then his father’s tales of Korea, and Vietnam.  He used to tell them they should write a book.  How many father-son adventures would span five wars?  Bill had begun volunteering at the Senior Center after joining Rotary International, through his time in banking.  Through Rotary, he had helped bring an end to polio, helped build water wells in impoverished cities around the world and created libraries and schools where there were none.  And now, he helped serve veterans every week by feeding them while they played bingo at Veteran’s Night at the Senior Center.  Bill looked forward to his time with the veterans.  He served every week for varied reasons.  Now, there was
one
more.

Ever since he first looked into Destiny’s eyes, he had thought of nothing else.  No
one
else.  He found himself distracted, almost to the point of annoyance.  Even when he had a million things to do, her face kept coming to mind.  And thanks to his stubborn pride, he couldn’t even ask her out.  Owen, his older brother, had just been through a nasty divorce with his third wife.  It didn’t seem fair that he had already set his sights on Destiny as the next potential Mrs. Owen Ireland.  And they hadn’t even had a first date yet.  Now he drove to the Senior Center in anticipation of her being there, in the hopes of seeing her there—though part of him hoped she wasn’t.

Bill parked under the light as he always did because he was usually the first one there.  It was his job to unlock the dumpster and the back door, in preparation of hoards of volunteers arriving shortly after that.  It was his responsibility to turn on the lights and the air, or the heat if it was winter.  Bill turned on all the equipment and prepared the counter to accept guests in the next hour-and-a-half.  Owen walked in almost five minutes later and nodded to his baby brother before starting his own routine.  Although inventory was checked each week at the end of their shifts, it was Owen’s responsibility to double-check it before opening the register.  It assured that nothing had mysteriously disappeared or was overlooked the week before.

The staff consisted of mostly volunteers, but there were a few paid part-time workers.  Owen and Bill were both in their mid-thirties and financially secure.  Although offered a small salary for what they did, both rejected their individual offers.  They weren’t necessarily close.  They didn’t share a lot of the same characteristics, either physically or traditionally.  However, they did have the same core values, mostly based on their father’s strict military training and their mother’s faith and her belief in making a difference in the world.  Combine those two with the perfect alignment of the stars and their life circumstances, and they ended up serving fish and chips to a bunch of veterans on Friday nights at the Senior Center. 

“So, did you ask her out?” Bill asked casually, for lack of anything else worthwhile to say.

“Who?”

“Destiny,” Bill reminded him.

“Who?”

Bill sighed in annoyance.  Owen didn’t even remember her name.  “The woman Lisa introduced you to last week,” he clarified. 

“Oh, her,” he grinned.  “I’ll work on her again tonight.”

“Wear her down, huh?” Bill said under his breath.

“Whatever works.”

“Do you even like her?”

“I just met her,” he exhaled.  “But, tonight,” he grinned mischievously, “I won’t take no for an answer.”

Bill stopped talking.  The conversation only served to discourage him more. 

“I think she’d look good,” Owen began.

Bill turned to his brother and waited expectantly.  Knowing Owen, there was no telling what would come out of his mouth. 

“I’ll bite, where would she look good?” a voice asked from behind.

Bill turned to see Sheray, the head cook, walk up behind them. 

“In my bed,” Owen answered slyly.

Sheray rolled her eyes and then began taking food items from the refrigerator to prepare for cooking and serving in the next hour.  “You’ve got to be kidding.  Tell me that’s not going to be your line.”

Bill shook his head.  “My guess is it is.”

Sheray glanced sideways at him, noting his sarcasm.  “Is that how he hooked numbers one through three?”

Owen walked up behind her.  “Actually number one started something like this,” he began, slowly sliding his arms down hers until his hands were on hers.  He then nuzzled against her cheek.  “And then I whispered in her ear.”  He lowered his voice, his lips beside her ear.  “Where have you been all my life, Beautiful?”

Sheray moved from his grip.  “That actually worked?”

“She fell for it, hook, line, and sinker,” Owen grinned proudly, rolling up his sleeves.

“Then she took him for everything—hook, line, and sinker,” Bill interjected as he took the cash drawer out of the floor safe.

Sheray walked past Owen, and he grabbed her by the hand, pulling her into his arms, holding her close to his chest.  “Number two,” he said as he started dancing her around the kitchen.  “Number two thought I was suave and sexy and loved my moves,” he added in a seductive tone.  He twirled her and let her go, and she spun right into Bill’s arms.

Bill smiled and shrugged.  “And then she realized what he looked like the morning after.”

Owen furrowed his brow at his brother.

“And number three?”

Owen wriggled his lips.  “Number three wanted more out of the marriage than I did.”

“Like what?”

Bill chimed in.  “Honesty.  Commitment.  Monogamy.”

“Yeah, well,” Owen sighed.  “The next one will be different.”

“How’s that?” Bill asked.  He crossed his arms and leaned against the counter attentively.

“You’re going to marry for love?” Sheray asked.

“Oh, I loved every one of them,” Owen defended.

“Really?”  When Owen didn’t respond, she shook her head.  “When I married Jay, I married him for life.”  She tossed the bag of hot dogs onto the counter and opened it up, taking one out.  “And he believes in honesty and commitment.”  She set the hot dog on the cutting board and then used the butcher knife to chop it in half.  “And monogamy,” she added flatly, without smiling, as she looked at Owen.

Owen looked at Bill and made a face.  When Bill turned back to Sheray, she winked and grinned before continuing with her tasks.  Bill smiled to himself and returned to counting out his cash drawer.

Owen continued, ignoring Sheray’s dispensation of the hot dog.  “I want someone fun and exotic and patient and—”

“—And won’t put up with your crap?” Bill interrupted.

“And won’t
mind
my crap,” Owen smiled.  “She won’t mind that I’m a mess and that I don’t look especially great in the mornings.  That I like to have a beer with the boys and watch football without her ragging on me.”

Sheray turned to Bill and mouthed silently, “Is he serious?”

Bill nodded.

“Who won’t give me a hard time for not throwing my underwear in the clothes hamper right when I take them off—or when I don’t always remember our anniversary or her birthday.  Someone who will love me despite all that.”

Sheray looked at Bill, who merely shrugged again.  “Maybe you should try looking online for one of them Russian brides,” she suggested.

Owen looked up and furrowed his brow again as if considering the thought.  “Naw.  I want her to speak English.”

“What about you, Bill?  You think you’ll ever get married again?”

Bill pursed his lips.  The sound of the metal door closing, resounded down the hallway, echoing into the empty room.  A moment later Destiny walked from the darkened hallway into the fluorescent-lit room.  Her eyes met his.  A small smile crept across her lips, and his heart instantly lit up.  “Yes,” he answered under his breath.  “Yes, I do.”

Destiny enjoyed working with Lisa and the other volunteers at the Senior Center and had decided that this was going to be her new Friday night routine.  It was fun getting to know everyone, hearing their stories.  No, it was more than that.  Through their expressions and the tone of their voices; through the emotions wrought in their telling, she experienced their stories; learned of loves lost and discovered—felt the pain of death on the battlefield, and of finding God there in the midst of war. 

So many stories.  So many lives forever changed.  She felt she could never listen enough to what they had to say.  It was as if this was their one chance to tell their story.  It almost made her sad to think how many of the veterans, although surrounded by family and friends every day, had never been asked about their own stories.  How many had taken the time actually to listen what these precious veterans wanted to say?   Stories that couldn’t be told in pictures, pictures that couldn’t begin to convey the real horror of what they had experienced.  The real history wasn’t just the prepared abbreviated messages the media dispensed, but was in the eyes and the very souls of those men and women who had served.  Those were the
real
stories.  It made Destiny sad to think that so many of these stories would never be heard, never be written down or recorded.  Memories lost forever on deaf ears.

“Grandpa!” Destiny exclaimed.  Lisa had brought her grandfather with her this week, decked out in baggy shorts and a Hawaiian shirt and sporting a lei; having just spent twenty-one days cruising through the Pacific.  “Don’t you look like a walking postcard!”

Grandpa lifted and shook the flower lei from his chest and winked.  “Had to prove to the fellas that I got leid while I was away.”

“Grandpa!” Destiny shook her head at him.

He slowly walked through the room with her on his arm.  Every few steps someone would stop him and ask about his trip.  Thankfully, Grandpa was a man of few words, unless he found someone special who needed to hear the extended version.

“Good,” he’d reply to acquaintances.  Or if he knew someone well, he’d respond, “It was unbelievable.”  He decided to cut Destiny a break, giving her the abbreviated version.  “I discovered how much I
don’t
want to spend two weeks with my brother and his wife in a confined space.”  Grandpa held on tight to Destiny’s arm, as he pulled her closer and patted it.  “It’s good to see you out, Girl,” he remarked. 

Destiny leaned against him as they walked.  “It actually feels good to be out,” she said sincerely.

“This place is a good start.  If you can survive these guys, you’re ready for the world.”  He stopped and looked her in the eyes.  “You doing okay?”

Destiny nodded.

Grandpa raised her chin with his finger.  “You know.  I think you really are,” he smiled.  “Your eyes have life in them again.  I was starting to worry about you, Child.”

Destiny looked down.  “Me, too, Grandpa.”  She looked into his eyes again.  “Me, too.”

Grandpa kissed her forehead.  “I remember when I lost my Betsy.  The toughest day of my life.  Thought I’d crawl right down into the grave with her.”  He turned her and walked slowly toward his granddaughter.  “And these guys here were a lot of the reason I didn’t.” He sighed.  “Them and my Lisa.”  He smiled, turning to watch his granddaughter carrying plates of food for those who were unable to carry their own.  “If it weren’t for them, I wouldn’t be here.”

“I wish I’d met her.”

“My Betsy?”

Destiny nodded.

“Oh, my dear, she would have just loved you.  You’d never have met a kinder soul.  She never met a stranger, and she would do anything for anybody.  My sweet, sweet Bets.” He patted Destiny’s hand.  “You know Lisa’s daddy was a hard man.  He was military, too.  And strict.  I raised him to be firm, but never raised him to be unkind.  Something happened while he was away, you know?” he stated more than asked.  “When he came back from Vietnam, he was a mean SOB.  God forgive me for saying that about my own son, but he was outright mean.  Was hard on Lisa and her brothers and sisters.”  He glanced at his granddaughter.  “Plain took the spirit out of some of them.  Broke poor Betsy’s and my hearts to see it, but what could I do?  He was a grown man.”

Destiny listened intently.  It was the first time he’d talked about Lisa’s father to her.

“But not Lisa.  She has an indomitable spirit.  I’m so glad he never broke her.  She’s the heart of the family, you know?”

Destiny squeezed his arm.  “I can see where she got her character.  And I think she’d disagree.”  He stopped walking and looked down at her.  “She’s always said that
you
were the heart of your family.” 

He smiled down at Destiny and whispered against her cheek.  “You have that spirit, too, my dear.  It has always been there.  I’ve seen it in your eyes.”

Destiny leaned against him and smiled sadly.

“Never let that light go out, my dear.”

Destiny nodded.

“Promise me,” he insisted.

“I promise.”

His friends, anxious to hear of his adventures, surrounded them.  As Destiny released his arm, he was swallowed by the crowd.  She saw him hold up his lei proudly as he began to embellish about his travels through the islands.

There was a tap on her shoulder, and she turned with a start.

“Sorry.  I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“Owen!”

“I promised you dinner.”

“You did.” She eyed the mound of catfish, French fries and hush puppies he was holding.  “It looks delicious.”

“Fried it just for you.”  Owen turned her at her elbow, steered her toward an empty table, then pulled back a chair and sat down before she did.

Destiny sat opposite him.  “That was really sweet of you.”

“So, like it or not, you’re having dinner with me.”

“I guess I am.”

Owen reached over and took a piece of fish from the plate, placed it on a napkin and began pulling off pieces to eat as he spoke.  “I thought you could use a break.  It gives us a chance to get to know each other.”

Destiny nibbled nervously on a hush puppy.

“Lisa says you’re a teacher?”

Destiny nodded as she chewed.

“You like teaching?”

“Mm-huh,” she added, stuffing a fry into her mouth.

“You like the school you work at?”

Destiny nodded again, taking a bite of fish.

“I hated school,” he began.  “I did what I had to do to get my diploma and then partied all summer until I had to start college.”  Owen took another bite and talked with his mouth full.  “Don’t get me wrong, I know high school was important, it just wasn’t to me.  At the time.”  He looked expectantly at Destiny.  “You want that last hush puppy?”

She shook her head, taking another bite of fish.

Owen popped the hush puppy into his mouth then proceeded to finish his train of thought, talking with his mouth full.  “My parents made their expectations clear to me and my brothers.  However, I knew what I wanted to do, so I just did it.  I didn’t graduate at the top of my class, but I still got my degree on the wall, a good paying job, and I didn’t have to kill myself to get there.”

Destiny pulled a few napkins from the metal holder on the table, wiping her greasy fingers, then her mouth.

“I mean, I think what you do is important and all, but I think some of what they make you learn in high school is worthless.  Don’t you think?” Owen said, licking his fingers.  He grabbed a napkin and wiped them off.

“I believe what I do is relevant.”

“Relevant?” he interrupted.  “I think it’s your job to attempt to educate, and the teenager’s job is to set his own path and determine if he’s going to go on to college, and if he is, what he needs to do to accomplish his goals.”

Destiny glared at him, stupefied.  “So, you believe that a child should pick and choose what he thinks is relevant to what his goals are?”

“Absolutely,” Owen replied, smugly.

“So, what if he has no goals?”

“Then he’ll flip burgers or empty my trashcan at work,” he added, confident that his prophetic statement would enlighten her as to her waste of time.  “Have you ever read
40 Alternatives to College
by James Altucher?”

Destiny leaned forward as if she was interested in what he was saying.  “No, can’t say as I have.”

“Well, it’s simply a reminder of the pressures kids are under to perform and test to standards that are well beyond their abilities.  That they are under pressure to graduate at the top of their class and then go to college, where they just incur tens to hundreds of thousands of dollars in debt that’s unrealistic to repay.  Many of them drop out, don’t desire to go into the field in which they have a degree or quite possibly can’t find jobs in those fields.”

Destiny breathed in slowly, as she thought through what she wanted to say to this man, who was attempting to dispel single-handedly, the notion that everyone wanted to be something more.  He would most definitely never be on her list of guest speakers to motivate students. 

“Did it ever occur to you that for some students, the teacher is the only positive role model in a child’s life?  That maybe circumstances, whether it be the family dynamics or learning disabilities or poverty, have caused them not to be able to excel or achieve?”

“That’s total BS,” Owen said, wrinkling his nose.  “That’s simply an excuse.  Every child has the same advantages as every other,” he proclaimed.

“What hole have you been living in?” Destiny retorted.

Owen leaned closer onto his arms.  “I live in reality, Honey.  You are just one of the brainwashed who believes that traditional, in any sense, is right.  Traditional education, traditional employment, traditional marriage.”

Destiny chuckled for a moment, but then realized he was serious.  She furrowed her brow and softened her eyes.  “Thanks so much for dinner, Owen.  It was really sweet of you,” she said as she stood up.

Owen sat upright, and, realizing their conversation was over, stood with her.  “Well,” he stammered.  “I enjoyed visiting with you.  You’ve got spunk.  I like that in a woman.”

Destiny batted her eyes.  “It’s been enlightening, to say the least.”

Owen smiled, feeling confident.

Destiny turned to leave.

“Maybe I can call you sometime,” he called after her.  “We can talk some more.”

“Don’t count on it,” she said sarcastically to herself, walking as fast as she could in the other direction.