by M. R. Joseph
She looks up at me then to Craw. He starts to speak before Greta has a chance to explain.
"When Jeff and Greta called and told me their plan, at first I didn't think it would sit well with Har, but I called her and spoke with her and she said that Avery wouldn't be here without you, so she thinks it's great." I take a deep breath in and feel my body and my mind relax a bit knowing what she thinks.
"Actually her words were, ‘this is the way it's supposed to be.’"
I look down again at this sleeping little angel in my arms.
My God.
I know in my heart of hearts what I want out of life. I want the wife, the kid, the dog, the nine-to-five job, the white-picket fence shit. I want holidays with family, I want my kid to grow up with Matteo and Avery, and if I close my eyes the only person I see any of this happening with is Harlow. Without a shadow of a doubt, with all that I am and all that I can see in my future, she is the start of it, and the end of it. Then I remember the word, naturally. If I got her back it wouldn't happen for us naturally. We'd have to take the scientific approach, the invasive medical way. Maybe even the adoption route. Who the fuck cares really? Whatever road we go down, if that road is in front of us it will be our future. Our life. Our family. As sad as I am every time I look at Avery, something tells me there is hope, it tells me there's always a chance, and there's always a miracle waiting to happen.
CHAPTER 11
These Dreams
Harlow~
My body feels light as air. It's as if I’m not touching the ground, but I know that I am. Each step I take feels like I could jump, like I’m skipping. When I do touch down, what's below my bare feet is grainy and rough. As I look down I see it's wood. Brown and a bit unstable when my feet land. I look ahead and squint to see where I am because something bright is reflecting in my eyes. I float a bit closer, teetering on the edge of the wood. Water is swaying; brightness from the sun’s rays is reflecting off the water. It's like a thousand tiny mirrors floating in the tranquil cleft. The sun feels so good on my face, on my body. I look at my arms and legs, specks of light radiate off my skin. It's as though tiny lights are imbedded into my skin and they light up. I touch my arms and the shimmer of the rays remains. I touch my legs. They are normal. No scars, no deep pink grooves. My toes are painted red. I smile stretching my arms out to my sides. I feel blissful. So relaxed and at peace. The water beacons for me to come to it, but I’m afraid. I look toward it again, then away, then back again. A figure is sitting on the edge of the wood. All I can see is the back of the figure. As I step closer, I can see the outline of the figure. A man. "Hello?" I call out. I can't see the man’s face, I can only hear a voice and see an arm reaching out to me.
"Come and sit. Don't be afraid," the figure answers back.
"But I am afraid," I reply.
"When you are with me, there's no fear. It's not going to hurt you. I'll make sure that will never happen again."
I listen to the man and take his hand. It's big but his touch is gentle and I feel calm as soon as I my hand connects with his.
I sit on the edge along side of him. I can feel the heat of the wood through my clothes, burning a bit, but not uncomfortable.
"Take a deep breath in and let the salt of the air hit your lungs. Don't be afraid of it. Take the baby steps."
I do as he says and I breathe in, shutting my eyes letting the air filter through my system.
When I open my eyes I look down and see my feet in the water and it's warm like a bath. I smile.
"See, I told you. The water is our friend. Always has been. You can let go when you're with me. I'll never let it hurt you again."
I believe what he says. The fear has dissipated, but I’m still a bit skeptical.
"Are you sure it won't hurt me. It's hurt me before. I know it has."
The man turns his face to mine but I still can't see it. The sun is blinding me, not allowing me to make out the curvature of his face. He takes my hand and brings it to his cheek. He rubs my fingers across and down to his jawline like he knows I can't see him, but he needs me to feel him. It feels so familiar, like I’ve felt it a thousand times before.
"It will never hurt you again. I’m always here to make sure. I’ve told you this before. So many times while you slept."
"While I slept?" He takes his hand and sweeps it over the top of my head, running his fingers through my hair, gently, skillfully.
"Yes. You slept for a long time. The water made you sleep, but it won't ever again. You're with me now."
I trust this person. I can feel that with every stroke of my finger on his face. I feel so happy.
"Am I awake now?" I ask him, and he smiles. I can see at least his mouth. I want to kiss his lips for reassurance that he is telling me the truth, but it's all I see.
"You are almost there. You're almost awake. Here, at this place, you are. This is our place. When you are here, yes, you are awake because we are together."
"Almost? When will I be fully awake? Do you know?"
He touches my face and I lean into his hand. He cradles it and bends into my ear. "I don't know the answer to that, but I’m here to make sure you are safe and prepare you for when you finally do."
I smile as the sun warms my skin and his hand strokes my face.
"That feels nice," I tell him.
"I know, Turnip. I know."
***
My body jolts awake. Sweat covers my body. My pillows are off my bed along with all my blankets. I pant, trying to catch my breath. I wipe the perspiration from my head. I look out the window. Dawn has not yet made its approach.
That dream. It was so real. I could feel it all, smell it all. But what I can't wrap my head around is that it was Cruz sitting there with me. He was speaking to me, telling me things I don't understand, except for calling me Turnip. I need answers to this. Could it be a memory?
I grab my phone and dial Willow right away not even caring it's almost 4 a.m.
She answers with a mumble, "Why the fuck are you calling me so early for? This better be good."
"Wills, I think I remembered something in a dream. I’m a little freaked out about it, actually a lot freaked out." I start to cry and I’m guessing she can hear the desperation in my voice.
"I'll be right over,” she says with no hesitation.
Within ten minutes I hear Willow use the key to my house and slam the door behind her. I stay in my bed. My knees are up against my chest and the tears come faster than I can wipe them away. She enters my room, wearing her pajamas and slippers and rushes to my bed. She plops down in her usual way and leans her head on her hand, stretching her body out in front of me.
“Wanna tell me why you're crying about it? Remembering is a good thing, you know."
I nod and tell her all about the dream. Her eyes are wide and a few times her jaw drops open when I tell her.
"What do you think it all means?"
She sits up and inches closer to me, putting her elbows on her knees and taking a deep breath in and out.
"Well, I’m no Dr. Goldberg so I can't really tell you about some of the stuff, but what you dreamt is pretty much what happened."
I rub my head with my hands and fall back onto the pillows I had rescued from the floor.
"Ugh, it did, didn't it? I was thinking back to the dream when you were on your way over. It kind of happened that way. The dock, right? In my dream we were on the dock."
She nods yes as I peek up from the pillows.
"We spent a lot of time on that dock. Him and I. I know now we did. We used to sit on those chairs out there. The more I think about it, the more I remember."
Willow pulls my arms up so that I’m sitting and she wipes the stray tears from my cheeks.
"Har, this is a good thing, no matter how you look at it. Listen, the last few weeks have been a bit confusing. You see Cruz and stuff comes back. The doctors told you some things would come back eventually, slowly. There's no guarantee how they come back, they just do. The new
baby and the trauma of that… Cruz saving Avery, Greta and Jeff asking him to be godfather, all that stuff stimulates your memories. I think it's normal."
I have to laugh. Normal just isn't a word to describe what my life has been the last few months. I’m trying to move on and deal with my misfortunes, but they still plague me.
"Normal? You call anything that happens in my life normal? Wills, I survived a coma, woke up not knowing I was in love with someone, that we had a future together, my family was torn apart by the evilness of my grandmother, I still have medical issues from the accident, and I can't even remember the name of my first grade teacher."
"Mrs. Sims," Willow coughs out like I can't hear her.
"Ha, ha. Really funny. You're a regular comedian, aren't you?"
Willow tugs at my hand.
"Oh, come on. You know that's my defense mechanism. I try and see the humor in everything. Even comas."
I stare at her like I want to rip out every natural piece of blonde hair on her head but then I think, this is Willow. She's been by my side since we were kids. Granted, I hated her because she was a bitch up until fourth grade. Thea and I used to crap our pants when we saw her coming, stomping her way through the playground and intimidating everyone in her path. As we became friends, the three of us grew very close. We became sisters. She was always the center of attention—she made it that way—but look out if someone tried to mess with anyone who was her friend. I'd hate to be on the other end of a Willow confrontation, but that's what makes Willow, Willow.
"Okay, so you had a memory of Cruz. Excellent in my opinion. How do you feel about it? About remembering a little about you and him?"
I scratch at my head. Because my anxiety level is so high, I can taste the blood from biting the inside of my cheek.
"I don't really know how to feel. When I was dreaming, it felt good. So familiar. Like it was something not out of the ordinary. I felt his hand in mine and it felt right. Being with him there, sitting on that dock. I can recall bits and pieces of us on that dock. Talking and getting to know each other. It was our thing. It's just a little scary. A memory that shoots back into your brain after being gone for so long is weird."
Willow points for me to lie down and after picking up the thrown blankets and pillows from off the floor, she places them back onto my bed and on top of me. She makes them smooth and then shimmies her body into the bed next to me like we used to do when we were kids—and teenagers, and adults for that matter—when we had sleepovers.
She snuggles into me slightly and I flip off my lamp.
"Har, I don't know what it's like for you, not being able to remember things. I wish I could fully grasp what it's like, but you should embrace every single piece that comes back. With Cruz, oh, I don't know, that part is complicated in itself. He always seems to end up in your life no matter what. I think that part may be meant to be. Somehow, he's going to be in your life one way or another. He's a good guy. He suffered along with you."
I groan into the pillow.
"Yes, I know he did, and for that I'll be forever grateful, and I'll be grateful for what he did for Greta. I’m just confused because in my dream I felt so much and it scared me. The whole thing scares me because I don't think I wanted to wake up from that dream, Wills. Do you understand?"
She nods.
"Now this thing with Daniel..."
She interrupts me, "This thing with Daniel? It's a thing now? The other day it was nothing. Now it's a thing? Dear Lord, woman. It's more than a thing. That hot and heavy make-out session you told me about on your date or whatever the hell it was made my vibrator run out of batteries after you described the play-by-play."
I smack her arm. "Ew, you masturbated to my make-out session? Jesus, Willow. I’m like your sister."
"Oh pish-posh. So what. It was hot. Call me a freak. Truth won't hurt me none."
I sigh and tuck my hand under my pillow and face Willow who is facing me.
"Truth is, I really, really like Daniel. I mean really like. If I see him in the halls of school, I blush. I know I do. I can't help it. We talk every day and every night. The other day he stuck Henry in some kind of jogging stroller and ran over to my house. He said he was just going for a run but Henry was holding a bouquet of flowers, so I know it was intentional.
"Oh, shit. He lives like fifteen minutes from you and that like by car. How many miles could that be?"
"I have no idea, I never counted. Doesn't matter. He was there."
She chuckles. "That was so intentional. I see the way he looks at you in the teachers’ lounge. It's like you are the only person in the room.”
Wills is encouraging me to enjoy one man on the off chance that I won’t remember what I had with another man. Is that fair to either man? Is it fair to me? What if I fall in love with Daniel? How would I react if I recall my love for Cruz? This is why I am confused I think. The dream validated one very important thing to me. I felt safe with and cherished by Cruz.
"But it confuses me and I don't want to be confused."
Willow brushes my hair away from my face and closes her eyes.
"Then don't let it. You have the control, Har. You have the control of your destiny."
She falls asleep fast and I’m left with that thought. I can control my destiny. I have to control my confusion, but what happens if memories start to come in unexpected. Then what do I do?
I'll think about it tomorrow. For now, I need sleep.
***
My new favorite spot is the teachers’ lounge. Not because it's a break from my classroom but because of the amber-colored eyes of one science teacher.
Daniel and I, we flirt. I didn't think I had it in me, flirting I mean. Down to taking his sandwich out of his plastic baggie and offering me half of it, the man is sexy as hell. He eats peanut butter and jelly almost every day. He told me Henry and he make them every morning together so they can eat the same thing. His athletic build and his tall lean legs can turn me on at a moment’s notice. We haven't kissed again since that night at his house. Not that I don't want to, because, my God, I think about that night all the time. And I think he knows it. When he eats his sandwich, he always manages to get a spot of peanut butter on the corner of his mouth, he darts out his tongue to lick it off and I swear he does it on purpose to drive me crazy.
Truth? It does.
All he has to do is speak and I get shivers. He could be talking about how Henry clogged his toilet with Legos and how he had to plunge it and I swear my body goes into a three-alarm fire. Nothing can put it out either.
At this table, it seems like it's our own little world. The glances, the occasional rubbing of our knees under the table, the softness of his voice when he speaks - I hate when our time is up.
"Harlow, I don't know if you have plans for the weekend, but Ally is taking Henry to an amusement park on Saturday with a friend of Henry's and his mother and they won't be returning till Sunday so I was..." He takes another bite of his sandwich and looks as though he has no idea what to say next. His eyes are focused on the table and no longer on me.
"Daniel? Did you want to ask me something?"
He takes a swig of his water and clears his throat. He wants to ask me out. I know it but he's afraid. Again. He carries himself with such confidence but when it comes to me, he acts like a school boy. Shy, quiet, and dear mother of God, sexy.
He breathes out, "Yes."
"So what is it?"
"I would like to take you out, like on a real date. Not pizza and a game of Memory at my house. I want it to be just us and I’m, well..." He dips his head and scoots in his chair a little closer to mine so no one else hears us.
"I’m having a difficult time getting you out of my head to be honest with you and it may seem inappropriate to discuss this here with you, but I needed you to know that."
Holy shit!
I look at him and wink, using my new found flirting abilities to their fullest.
I scoot my chair just an inch closer and lean o
ver like I dropped something on the floor, but I allow myself to move close to his ear so he can hear what I say and not miss what my words are.
"I think about you all the time too and I want nothing more than to see you again."
When my head comes up our eyes are met in the middle, we survey each other and I feel that hunger in my belly. The need and want for him to touch me. I want to feel his touch again like I did in that kitchen.
He smiles at me and the bell rings at that moment but our gazes don't waiver. He just crosses his arms on the table, our elbows touching. "Let's make a day of it. Pick you up at noon?"
I nod. He gets up and I stay glued to my chair. I suddenly can’t move. Possibly because I choose to watch him walk away; his swagger, his posture, the gracefulness of his moves. So agile. He gathers the uneaten portion of his lunch and sticks it back in his bag. When he exits the room, he says nothing and doesn't look back. He leaves this girl at this table with thoughts of his lips, tongue, and hands all over her.
I think I’m in big trouble.
***
The end of the day is here but I know I have loose ends to tie up before the weekend begins. Normally I would bring home things to work on that I didn't accomplish during the week, but I think mentally preparing myself for a date with a hot, sexy, British teacher trumps grading book reports all weekend on The Lord of the Flies.
Screw Piggy and his problems.
Willow and Craw knock on my door to ask if I’m ready to leave for the day. They come in and stand at my desk as I finish reading over one of my student’s reports.
"Yeah, give me a sec."
"Max's band is playing downtown tonight and did you know Porter is home?"
I nod concentrating on my task and not really on what Craw just said to me.
"Hello, earth to Harlow." I look up at him as he waves a hand across my face.
"Oh, sorry. I just want to get as many of these reports graded as I can."
Willow flings her hand out. "Just do them over the weekend and come out tonight."
I shake my head, "No, I’m staying in tonight to finish these because I have plans tomorrow."
