One Night In Amsterdam (28 page)

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Authors: Nadia C. Kavanagh

BOOK: One Night In Amsterdam
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“Come on Copper! Fetch it!” I shouted and threw a twig up high after I ended my jog and slowed to a walk on the sandy beach, barefoot, in my swim trunks. The twig landed close to the front porch of my neighbor’s house. Copper, all jumpy and excited, brought the twig back to me. “Good boy!” I said and petted his bright golden fur. I tried to throw it further away, hoping it could occupy him a bit longer. But no, he ran and fetched it back again quickly.  Copper, still a puppy, had more energy than I could handle. When I agreed to dog-sit, I didn’t think it could make me this exhausted, however, after running an hour and then playing fetch for another half, I was completely beat.

“I am going to swim a bit and enjoy the water, Copper. You be a good boy and wait for me here.” I told him and tied his leash to the front post of my wooden deck. I poured some cold water into his bowl. Copper looked at me with his sad little face wanting to play more, but he sat down after my second command and finally understood that play time was over.

Feeling a bit guilty for leaving him alone, I rushed to the beach and threw myself into the cool, soothing water. It was warmer than the first time I tried it, back when I first moved into the beach house almost two months ago. After a couple strokes, I realized I was too exhausted to swim and fight with the waves. I turned around and noticed someone standing at my front porch, checking out my house. His back turned towards the beach, I didn’t notice who he was. In a dark blue suit, he was too over dressed for a local, and too business like for a weekend vacationer.

Wondering about this unusual trespasser, I got out of the water and dried my body with my towel as I walked towards my house.  The tall blonde guy with side-combed hair and a typical Wall Street look, was now petting Copper.

“Hey, there…what are you doing?” I asked casually.

“I guess it is true. You are indeed living like a hippie.” He said as he turned around and took his Raybans off.

“Steve!” I exclaimed utterly surprised. “It’s good to see you. What brings you here?”

“Max told me where you were hiding. I didn’t believe him at first. Mighty Dylan Hamilton, living in a ramshackle house, nailing and buffing floors.  I wanted to see it myself.”

I dabbed beneath my sunglasses with my towel and smiled broadly. “Hard labor gives you a different kind of satisfaction. I like seeing all that work and sweat turn into something nice.” I said, and climbed the wooden stairs which needed staining and refinishing. ‘I should work on the stairs next’ I thought inwardly, and added it to my never ending to do list. Steve followed me into the house and stood on the deck, glancing towards the horizon. “Great view.” He whistled.

“Yep!” I nodded, and opened the door with my hideaway key, stashed underneath the flower pot. “Would you like to see the house?”

“Sure.” Steve nodded. “Everybody at work is curious about you, wondering what you’ve been up to for the last two months.”

“Well, see it for yourself.” I said and gave him a quick tour pointing out the work I’d done around the house. Our tour of my two bedroom beach house ended rather quickly. I opened the fridge and took a bottle of Stella for myself. I handed him a bottle too.

“Thanks, but I’m still not drinking.” He rejected kindly.

“Good job Steve!”  I praised him and patted his back, impressed that he kept his promise to stay away from alcohol. “Tell me, why are you dressed like this?”

“Max hired me full-time for the summer. I am working on weekends too. I had a meeting with a customer. We’ve been short-handed since our CEO abandoned us.” He said with an insinuating grin.

“I didn’t abandon you guys! Think of it like a long-term leave of absence.”

“I heard otherwise.  Max shared your possible plans of selling your share. Phliant is not the same without you, Dylan. You should come back.”

“Is that why you are here?” I narrowed my eyes and took a sip from my beer. “To convince me to come back?”

“Well, yes. Kinda…”

“Did Max put you up to this? If he did, he is wasting your time, so you know.”

“He told me the same thing when I told him I wanted to see you and ask you to come back.”

“Oh, I see.  Why didn’t you listen to him then?”

“Because, I am not here to ask you to come back just for Phliant. I am asking you to come back for Emma as well.” He enunciated carefully.

“Emma…” I exclaimed. Her name had that same inevitable effect. “Is there something wrong with her? Tell me, is she alright?!” I gasped nervously.

“Yes, she is doing…” He paused a second. “I don’t know how she is doing. I guess she is doing okay. At least for the time being, but I might not be able to tell you the same next month.”

“Why? What do you mean?”

“Emma is leaving town in three weeks. She has signed up with ‘Doctors without Borders’. Since she is fluent in French, she is being sent to Syria to assist the French medical team in Aleppo.”

“No! Why? Why is she doing this?”

“Why do you think? She hasn’t been the same since you two broke up.  I only got to see her a few times when I visited Aunt Helen and I can tell you honestly that she is a mess. She is not herself. She looks lifeless. Sydney told me a bit about her and how she’s been doing these last two months. It isn’t good. She does nothing but study and work. She never goes out or does anything for fun, not even with Sydney or me. She doesn’t even eat properly. I’m worried about her.”

“You know that Emma broke up with me, Steve. Not the other way around. I tried to talk to her many times and it was useless. Your sister is a determined, stubborn girl. She made her mind up about us and there is no way to change it.”

“You’ve got to try again. You are the only one who can convince her not to go.”

I chuckled. “You’re giving too much credit to a guy who she doesn’t want to talk to or see.”

“That’s all an act Dylan. It’s her defense mechanism for something she can’t deal with, but I know her. She loves you and this … her life without you… is suffocating her. She just has too much pride to admit it.”

“What do you expect me to do?”

“Talk to her. Get her to spend some time with you.”

“But how?”

“Her graduation ceremony is next Saturday. After that, she is attending a fundraiser event for a children’s research hospital. It is like a year-end gala for med students.”

“You want me to ask her out to a gala full of doctors. She would never agree to that.”

“I know! Just listen…” He shushed me with his hand and explained. “You should attend the gala as an anonymous donor. Sydney has put Emma’s name down for the date auction. Emma objected but the catalogs were already printed, so she couldn’t withdraw her name. If you attend the gala ...”

“I could participate in the auction and win her as my date.”

“Yes!”

“And once I take her on a date, I could talk to her and convince her not to go.” I mumbled to myself. “I can’t believe she is doing this to herself. She shouldn’t go to Syria.”

“My thoughts exactly…” Steve uttered.

Inevitably, I found myself thinking and dreaming about Emma, her soft lips, her emerald green eyes.  I realized how much I missed her and how silly I was, pretending I was okay without her.  It gave me a sudden chill.  “I will do my best to convince her Steve,” I promised hesitatingly. I wanted to help Steve and convince her not to leave, but I wanted more than that.  I wanted to win her back. Her trust. Her respect. Her love.

“Alright then, you have a week to get ready. You’ll need a tux, a good shave and a haircut too.” He uttered jokingly. “You won’t pass for a wealthy philanthropist in this shape.”

“I guess you are right.” I nodded and ran my hands through my disheveled, sandy hair.  It had gotten too long and almost touched my shoulders.  Even I couldn’t recognize myself in the mirror anymore. With my long hair, tanned skin and bearded face, I looked nothing like the Wall Street guy who left Manhattan two months ago.

The following week couldn’t pass any slower. I was excited and nervous at the same time. Saturday morning came and I left Montauk early in the morning to drive to Manhattan. After being away for two months, the noise and the crowd in the city overwhelmed me. For the first time in my life, I felt like a stranger in the city where I was born and raised.

I arrived at my apartment and greeted Russell curtly. At first he didn’t recognize me.  After squinting at me for a few long seconds, he hurried to open the door. “Mr. Hamilton. It is you.  It is so good to see you sir…” He said cheerfully in shock. “You look…”

“Don’t bother Russell. I know I look like an ax murderer…”

“No. No… Not at all, sir!  You look different but also relaxed. The beard suits you in my opinion.”

I rubbed my chin and smiled. “Thanks Russell. You are too nice, but I think I will be better off without it.”

“You look handsome either way, sir.” He complimented. He was courteous and kind as he had always been.

As soon as I got into my apartment, I called Peter, Max’s sixty year old barber. I asked him to come to my apartment and give me a proper shave and a decent haircut.  I supposed Max had warned him about how I looked, however he still looked really shocked when he saw me.

“You can grow a mean beard Mr. Hamilton.”  He commented, shaking his head, disapproving my look.

“I know. You have an hour to fix me up, Peter. I trust you can do it. Let’s get going.” I said smiling. He pulled the chair out for me and started trimming my beard with scissors before using his famous sharp blade.

My legs were restless, I couldn’t sit still. “Stop fidgeting.” Peter chided me in his usual gruff voice, “You will get a nasty cut. You don’t want to wear a Band-Aid to match your tux, do you?” He warned me after I moved my legs up and down again. I was nervous and also in hurry.  I wanted to catch Emma’s graduation ceremony and watch her walk proudly to the stage be announced as a doctor of medicine. However, I didn’t want her to see me before dinner. I was planning to make myself invisible until the fundraiser.

I arrived at the commencement area long after the ceremony started. I glanced quickly at the graduates already seated, listening to the valedictorian.  Moving quietly towards the back, I ducked my head and put on a hat to avoid being recognized by any familiar faces.  I tried to find a seat without disturbing anyone and I was able to find one in the last row. As with any another ceremony, it was long, boring, and full of so-called impressive speeches by many faculty members. I wasn’t interested in listening, I was busy searching for Emma in the large group of students.

I finally located her at the end of the ceremony when she got up to walk to the stage to be hooded. She looked stunningly beautiful in her Columbia blue gown with three velvet stripes on the sleeves, her green hood and cap with gold tassel dangling on the side. When her name was announced, she approached the dais and shook the hands of the professors who were lined up to congratulate each graduating student. She smiled as she took the symbolic scroll tied with a red ribbon from the dean’s hand. However, she couldn’t hide the sad look on her face. I wanted to run to her, hold her in my arms, kiss her delicate lips and erase that sad look. The Emma I remembered always smiled, and when she smiled her eyes shined, reflecting her inner beauty. Glancing at her misty green eyes, I understood what Steve meant when he visited me last week. Emma wasn’t herself. She was smiling, waving her hand and acting happy. That look in her eyes, however, was telling me something else. I had to find a way to reach her, take her out of the deep abyss where she was stuck and make her see that she was making a wrong decision.

I left the ceremony after Emma’s turn to walk. I wasted time in my apartment until the evening, thinking about what to say and how to convince her to stay. I rehearsed my words in my mind again and again. After wandering around the house idly and nervously for hours, I couldn’t stand the anticipation any further. I called Jeff and got out of my apartment. I was one of the small group of guests who arrived early at the Marriott Marquis. I was wandering around the ballroom, checking out silent auction items when I heard a familiar voice calling my name.

“Well! Look who is here. Mr. Dylan Hamilton! Also known as anonymous donor and bidder number 15. What are you doing here so early?”

“Sydney!” I turned around and exclaimed. “It’s wonderful to see you.”

“Steve warned me about how you looked but I see that you are as handsome and charming as ever.”

“Well, thank you.” I smiled happily and placed a chaste kiss on her cheek.  “I had some help this afternoon.  One of Max’s old friends got me back into shape.”

“I’m glad he did.  A lot depends on you Dylan. I need you to look your best, but you shouldn’t be here this early, wandering around. Come on, hurry up, let’s go!” She grabbed my arm and pulled me towards the back of the ballroom.

“Why?” I asked curiously, walking swiftly by her side, her hands in the crook of my arm.

“I don’t want Emma to see you until the auction starts.”

“Sydney, this whole thing, is this some kind of scheme you are planning?”

“Not a scheme… a well thought plan.” She objected, smiling mischievously.  “I made this plan before she dropped her “I’m leaving town to volunteer in Syria” bomb. Now, you are more critical than ever. Since you are the reason she is doing this crazy suicide mission, you need to help us reverse it.”

“Why do you think I am the reason?”

“God dammit Dylan. Are you really asking?” She snickered, looking annoyed.  “She is obviously still in love with you and can’t get over you. So, she is going on this crazy thing to forget about you. Amy and I made this plan so that she would talk to you and see her mistake.”

“So, it was you who sent Steve to talk to me.”

“Of course! Do you think that scatterbrained brat could have planned all this?”

“Unbelievable! You girls are more sneaky and dangerous than I thought. How did you know I would agree?””

She looked at me with insinuating eyes. She had her ‘I know you better than you know yourself’ look dialed in. “Okay fine!” I smiled.  “I guess I was a sure thing. How did you convince Emma?”

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