More Than Words: Stories of Courage Read online

  Frankie took the paper and scanned it quickly. Then her heart skipped a beat. She looked up.

  “Did you read this?” she asked.

  Her boss nodded.

  “So, what do you think?” Frankie asked.

  “I think Charlotte Grace is lucky to have you for a friend.”

  Frankie clutched the paper to her chest. She couldn’t believe it. Second Wind Dreams would make Charlotte’s dream come true. If her doctor pronounced her fit to travel, Charlotte was going to Italy. Frankie wanted to scream—to shout the news from the rooftops—but she couldn’t. Not until they knew for sure Charlotte’s health was good enough for her to go. And Second Wind Dreams liked to make a big event out of the presentation, so that meant waiting.

  During her afternoon break, Frankie called her bank and checked the amount in her savings account, then contacted a travel agent and asked what a first-class ticket to Positano, Italy would cost. The rate was staggering. Well over two thousand dollars. But she had the money, and if she could make it work, she wanted to accompany Charlotte on her trip.

  Still, there was one person she could tell about her exciting news, and that was Daniel. She couldn’t wait to get home and give him a call.

  Yet that evening when she did get home, it occurred to her that he would most likely be asleep. Frustrated, she opted for e-mail, and scanned a snapshot of herself taken at Just Like Home to send along with her message. It wasn’t a bad photo. You could see the scars on her neck and arm, but she had a nice smile on her face. It would have to do.

  Daniel was on his way home after more than a week on the road, visiting his customers and taking orders for new shipments of wine. He’d been to Rome, then Milan, then back south to Naples. From there, he’d caught a flight to Sicily and made the rounds of his customers there.

  As always, he’d been anxious to get home, but never as much as he was this trip. He’d thought of his new American friend several times while he was away and couldn’t help but wonder if he’d have another message from her. He was also hopeful that she’d sent a picture. He wanted a face to go with that delightful voice.

  He did, however, have reservations about the old woman’s feelings. He couldn’t help but worry about what might happen when she learned that the man she’d loved had fallen in love with another woman and left a part of himself behind when he died.

  Maria was outside working in her garden when Daniel’s car came down the road. She straightened up and waved as he passed. Only after he waved back did she return to her weeding.

  Seeing his aunt in the garden gave Daniel a sense of homecoming. While many things in his life were in a constant state of flux, it was the things that never seemed to change that provided him with a sense of well-being.

  Still, when he unlocked the door and carried his suitcase into the house, he felt a moment of letdown. If only there was someone in his life to come home to.

  He glanced at the clock. It was just after noon. There were countless things he could do, from unpacking dirty clothes to checking mail and phone messages. Instead, he found himself heading for the computer.

  It took a while for all the e-mail to download, but when he sorted through it, to his delight, he discovered a message from Frankie.

  He opened it first and noticed there was an attachment. When he opened that and saw it was a photo, he leaned back and let himself absorb her image.

  “So…hello, Frances Drummond,” he said softly.

  In the picture, she was standing behind an elderly woman, leaning down, arms around the woman’s neck. There was a birthday cake in front of them, and they were both looking at the camera and smiling.

  He caught himself smiling back.

  Frankie had a pretty face and long, dark hair and he wondered what it would feel like to have her arms around his neck and her breath upon his cheek. He saw what appeared to be scarring on her neck and arm and winced, thinking of the pain she must have endured, then looked back at her face.

  He knew what she sounded like. Now he knew what she looked like. For some odd reason, he wanted more.

  He sat staring at her for the longest time before he remembered there was a letter that had come with the photo.

  He opened the letter, then sat back and relaxed, as he would have if he’d been sitting face-to-face with her.

  Dear Daniel,

  I have the most marvelous news. There is an organization here in the States called Second Wind Dreams that makes dreams come true for the elderly. In this case, if Charlotte’s health is good, they will pay for her trip to Positano so that she can visit her Daniel’s grave.

  I haven’t told her yet, because I don’t want to get her hopes up only to have them dashed, but I am so excited I can hardly contain myself. And I have another request of you that I hesitate to ask. However, since it’s not for me, but for Charlotte, I will ask it of you, anyway.

  If, indeed, she is able to travel that distance, I am going to pay my own way and come with her. So I was wondering, if it wouldn’t be too much of an imposition, would you agree to be our guide and translator while we are there? Neither Charlotte nor I know any Italian.

  I know it’s a lot to ask, but I promise we wouldn’t be any trouble. Charlotte is a very quiet, dignified woman and would not be demanding, and I promise not to cause you embarrassment. However, if you feel this is asking too much, I will definitely understand, and hope that we will at least get to meet you while we are there.

  Thank you in advance.

  Frankie

  Daniel’s heart skipped a beat. Suddenly, every little fantasy he’d let himself weave about this Frances Drummond had the possibility of becoming true. He didn’t know whether to be excited or alarmed. Then he glanced back at her picture and decided that it was definitely excitement he felt.

  Before he did anything else, he got a snapshot of himself that had been taken in the vineyards near the winery and scanned it into the body of his message back to her.

  It had been days since Frankie had sent her photo to Daniel. Her first inclination was that he’d been disgusted by the scars and ended their long-distance chats. She’d been disappointed and had just gotten to the point of convincing herself it didn’t matter, when she opened her e-mail and found a message from him.

  “Fine, now you surface,” she muttered as she clicked on the message to open it. But as soon as she started to read, her heart skipped a beat.

  Dear Frankie, you are beautiful.

  Frankie shivered. She could almost hear him saying those words, even though she knew he was just being kind.

  I am sending a photo of myself. It was taken last year before harvest in front of my winery. As you see, I grow several varieties of grapes and make marvelous wines.

  Frankie scrolled down to the bottom of the page, realized there was a photo attachment and quickly opened it.

  “Oh, Lord,” she muttered. “He’s a bona fide hunk. The women in Positano must be absolutely stupid to have let you stay single. If I were there I’d—”

  Then she sighed. So much for dreaming. She’d have no more luck with him than she did with the good-looking men here.

  “Face it, Frances, you are what you are.”

  Having given herself a firm dressing-down, she printed out the photo and then returned to the body of the message.

  I’m sorry I was so long in answering your message, but I have been traveling. It was business for the winery. Something I must do several times a year. I should hire a salesman, but I’ve always done it myself, and change is something that rarely agrees with me.

  It is wonderful news about your friend Charlotte, and of course, if you are able to come, I will not only be your tour guide, but I would gladly offer myself to play host. Please let me know how your plans evolve. I anxiously await your next message, and I also see that you have given me your phone number. Alas, it is night where you live now, so I will not give you a fright by calling at this time. However, do not doubt my intent to call you soon. I desire to hear your
voice again.

  Until later, bella signorina. And just in case you don’t know what that means, I’m telling you that you are a beautiful young woman.

  Daniel

  If Frankie had been a puppy, she would have rolled onto her back and wiggled. As it was, she had to settle for a shriek, followed by a fit of hysterical giggles.

  “Oh Lord, oh Lord, I’m too old to be acting like this,” she said. Grabbing the photo from the printer, she managed a little two-step as she hurried down the hall.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Two weeks passed before Frankie heard from Second Wind Dreams again. She was busy painting Margie’s nails. The color Margie had chosen was Passionate Pink, to match her mood, she’d said. Frankie had finished her fingernails and was working on Margie’s toenails when her cell phone rang. She glanced at the Caller ID and stifled a shout. It was Second Wind Dreams.

  Frankie knew she couldn’t let Margie know something was up. The woman couldn’t keep a secret for beans.

  “Excuse me a minute, Margie. I need to take this.”

  “I’m not going anywhere,” Margie told her, waving her nails to let them dry as she leaned back in the lounge chair and closed her eyes.

  “Thanks,” Frankie said. As soon as she was out of earshot she answered the phone. “Hello, Frances Drummond speaking.”

  “Frances, this is Jean from Second Wind Dreams. I just thought you might like to know that Charlotte Grace’s doctor cleared her for travel, so everything is a go. Does she have a passport?”

  “Oh, my gosh!” Frankie squealed. “I am so excited, and Charlotte is going to be stunned. Yes, she told me a while ago that she has a passport. So what now?”

  “Well, here’s what we want to do. We always like to make a big surprise out of the news. Do you think she’s up to it?”

  “Oh, she’ll cry,” Frankie said. “We’ll probably all be crying, but that’s okay. She will be so happy.”

  “Then this is the way it will work. Continental Airlines has comped you both first-class, round-trip tickets. The Hotel Murat in Positano has comped your suite for a week. We have arranged for her to have a guide to—”

  “Did you say both of us were getting complimentary tickets?” Frankie interrupted. “And a hotel suite?”

  “Yes, I did. Second Wind Dreams always ensures the dreamweaver’s costs are covered, too.”

  “Wow! This just keeps getting better and better. I assumed I’d have to pay my own fare.”

  “We couldn’t do our work without people like you, Frances, so we’re happy to arrange your plans, as well. Do you have a passport?”

  “Yes.” Even though she hadn’t traveled since her parents’ deaths, Frankie kept her passport up to date. “Oh, and one more thing. I have an e-mail acquaintance who lives just outside Positano. He has offered to be our guide. If you don’t mind, I would really like to use him. I can give you his name and phone number. You can check him out. He owns a vineyard and winery in the area.”

  “I’m sure that won’t be a problem, either. I didn’t know you knew anyone there.”

  “Well, I didn’t until I began trying to find Daniel Morrow’s grave. I contacted the very hotel in which you’ve made Charlotte’s reservations to ask if there was anyone in the area who could help me verify the grave location. They gave my request to this man, and he’s been more than helpful in answering my questions and concerns. In fact, I’ve spoken to him on the phone now a couple of times, as well. He seemed excited to be able to help us.”

  “Fantastic,” Jean said. “So…we’ll go from there.”

  “Oh, I’m so excited for Charlotte,” Frankie said.

  “So are we,” Jean echoed. “Until later.” She was standing in the middle of the office with a silly grin on her face when she remembered Margie’s toes and dashed out.

  Margie was right where Frankie had left her, feet up on the little plush pillow waiting to be finished.

  “Sorry,” Frankie said. “I didn’t think it would take that long.”

  Margie smiled.

  “No problem. I’ve been going through chapter eleven in my head and think it needs some punch. I believe I’ll add the story about the time I got robbed.”

  Frankie’s eyes widened. “You got robbed when you were driving a cab?”

  Margie’s eyes danced with delight. “Yeah, and guess what he took?”

  “All your money?” Frankie said.

  “No. My lunch. He stole my Big Mac and fries. And here’s the funny part,” Margie added. “He was wearing Armani. It just goes to show that thieves come from every corner of society.”

  Frankie laughed, then picked up the bottle of fingernail polish and finished what she’d started. When she was through with Margie, she went to look for Charlotte. She wasn’t going to tell her anything. She just wanted to be with her—maybe judge her state of mind.

  She couldn’t help but worry just the tiniest bit that she might have breached Charlotte’s privacy. What if Charlotte wouldn’t go? What if she decided the trip would be too painful?

  Frankie saw her sitting outside in a chaise lounge beneath a trio of ancient magnolias, working on her knitting. She took a deep breath and hurried out to join her.

  “Hi, honey,” she said, and pulled a chair up beside Charlotte’s. “What are you working on?”

  Charlotte smiled a hello as she held up a partially finished afghan.

  “Charlie Coogan’s birthday present. It’s in a couple of months. Do you think he’ll like it? The color is burgundy. That’s sort of a manly color, don’t you think?”

  “I think it’s great,” Frankie said. “Charlie will love it.”

  Charlotte nodded. “Yes, Charlie gets chilled easily.”

  Frankie sat for a moment, watching Charlotte’s fingers fly as she worked the knitting needles in and around the yarn. Then her gaze went to the bit of yellow ribbon at the neck of Charlotte’s dress.

  “Charlotte?”

  “Yes, dear?” Charlotte said.

  “Are you happy?”

  Charlotte’s fingers stilled. There was an odd little smile on her face as she looked up.

  “Why…yes, I suppose I am,” she said. “Why do you ask?”

  Frankie shrugged.

  “I don’t know. After what you told me the other day about Daniel…”

  Charlotte waved a hand in the air, as if to brush away the subject.

  “Oh, my goodness, honey. I didn’t mean for you to think I’ve been traumatized by my lack of spine. And that’s what it was, you know. I never did know how to stand up to Father. Everything that happened was my own fault. I was grown. I could have defied him. But I didn’t. I put Father’s wishes above Daniel’s. I have no one to blame but myself.”

  “I know, but it—”

  Charlotte leaned forward and patted Frankie’s hand.

  “Do I wish my life had been different? Yes. But I have lived a good life, even if it wasn’t as full as I might have liked.” Then she shrugged. “Besides, you can’t go through life wishing for things that will never be. That’s why I told you not to live with regrets. If you see something…or someone…that you want, go after it with all you’ve got. You’ll learn as you get older that it’s not what you failed that haunts you, but what you never tried.”

  “I think I see what you mean,” Frankie said.

  Charlotte smiled.

  “Of course you do,” she said. “That’s because I’m old and wise.”

  Frankie laughed out loud.

  Charlotte smirked, then resumed her knitting.

  They sat like that for a long while afterward. Charlotte with her knitting and Frankie with her dreams.

  It was the perfect way to while away an afternoon.

  Second Wind Dreams was coming to the seniors residence in the morning to make the presentation to Charlotte. They would have the travel itinerary and tickets for the trip, which was scheduled to begin in eleven days. Frankie had also been told that they were bringing a film crew, and she was besi
de herself with anxiety. She needed to calm down, but there was so much riding on Charlotte’s reaction, she couldn’t relax.

  It was almost 1:00 a.m. and she’d read the same page four times in the last fifteen minutes. She glanced at the clock again and then laid down her book. She wasn’t certain, but she thought it would be early morning in Italy. Before she could talk herself out of it, she picked up the phone and punched in Daniel’s number.

  Because of his marketing trip last week, Daniel had fallen behind on paperwork. He’d let it go until it was in chaos and was now forced to spend a perfectly beautiful morning stuck indoors. His mood was dour and his shoulders were slumped as he slogged through the stack of bills and invoices.

  Just as he was about to enter another set of figures into the computer, his phone rang. Grateful for the interruption, he answered on the second ring.

  “Ciao.”

  “Daniel? It’s me, Frankie. Am I interrupting anything?”

  A wide smile spread across his face.

  “Frankie! Yes, you are definitely interrupting, and for that I am truly grateful.”

  She laughed, and the sound soothed the frustration Daniel had been feeling.

  “I have news,” she said.

  “I hope it’s good news.”

  “Oh, yes! The best! The surprise I told you I was working on for Charlotte is going to happen. Second Wind Dreams has agreed to grant Charlotte’s dream to visit Daniel’s grave. And we’re both coming to Positano! Charlotte is going to get to say her goodbyes to Daniel the way she’s wanted to for all these years. Isn’t that wonderful!”

  Daniel’s heart was racing. Frankie was coming here?

  “Is this true?” he said. “You are really coming to our village?”

  “Yes! I hope you don’t mind, but we want to take you up on your kind offer to be our guide and translator.”

  “Mind? Dear Frances…Frankie…I can think of nothing I would rather do.” He bounded up from his chair and began to pace. “This is marvelous. Just marvelous. When are you coming? Are you flying into Milan? If so, you can take a smaller plane to Naples, but you will have to come by car from there. I can pick you up at—”