Her Mistaken Dream

by Brenda Barrett

  "How was the first day of work for the first features editor of Lux Women?" Brigid asked lazily. She was lying in the settee with her phone clutched to her chest.

  "Tiring," Caitlin said, slumping in a chair across from hers. "Crazy. I had lunch with Todd Taylor."

  Brigid's eyes widened. "On your first day! So, how was it?"

  "I don't know." Caitlin sighed. "He confuses me. He is urbane and sophisticated and dare I say, caring. He does not scream murderer to me. He is a nice guy."

  Brigid nodded. "How many murderers do you know?"

  "I don't know," Caitlin said. "How should I know?"

  "Exactly." Brigid pointed out, "Murderers don't come with a label on their heads."

  "Maybe it was a crime of passion and not murder," Caitlin said. "He was arguing with his wife and then he stabbed her. Maybe he didn't plan it."

  Brigid laughed. "Oh Caity. You are half in love with this guy already; you are making excuses for him killing his wife."

  "I am not half in love with him," Caitlin said tiredly. "Though I could be if I hang out with him often enough, he is so…so..."

  "Handsome, sweet, kind, caring, stable, mature, wealthy," Brigid supplied, grinning. "All of the things a woman would want."

  "Well..." Caitlin shrugged, "I see the guy in dreams…I am convinced he is the one and poof...he has a flaw, a dead wife and blood on his hands."

  She got up. "You know what, I am going to look for my notebook. I had a couple of them written out."

  Brigid smirked. "What on earth will that do for you but make you feel bad about yourself?"

  "I don't know," Caitlin mumbled. "Maybe I am in the mood to feel bad about myself." She sat down again and looked at Brigid contemplatively. "You know, I was eight when I had my first significant dream.

  "I was at home in our house and nicely tucked in bed. Mom and Dad had gone to a business party and my babysitter, a lady named Carmelita, was watching television in the living room. I can still hear the canned laughter of the sitcom that she was watching as I was drifting off to sleep.

  "And then suddenly, I was no longer at home. I was in my parents’ car. They were listening to classical music; my mother had her hand on my dad's leg." Caitlin smiled sadly.

  "They were talking about me. My mom was saying that she wished that she had a better relationship with her family and that I had grandparents to spoil me. My dad laughed at that. He hadn't gotten on with Mom's parents. They had disowned her when she married him. But I saw when he squeezed her hand, you know. He said, ‘Caity and I are all the family you need. We love you both so much.’

  "My mom looked over at him and smiled and then out of nowhere a truck came across the road and slammed into them."

  Brigid gasped. "What?"

  "I woke up crying," Caitlin grimaced. "I must have yelled or something because Carmelita came into the room and hugged me. I was inconsolable. I told her that my parents just died. They got hit by a truck and were dead."

  She said, "No, no bambina, it was just a dream. A nightmare."

  "One hour after that the police showed up at the doorstep." Caitlin looked at Brigid. "My parents died when a drunk driver ran the intersection and hit the car."

  Brigid gasped. "You never told anyone that before."

  "Why should I?" Caitlin said. "Those images are something that I worked to forget. Besides, you guys saw my dreams at work otherwise. I saw the fire at Wing B at Magnolia House before it happened. I saw the accident that would have taken place if we had taken another bus on the school trip. I literally saw the thing tumbling over the bridge."

  "Yes, you did," Brigid said. "For weeks after that we anxiously waited to hear if you had anymore dreams. Matron kept saying over and over that you had saved our lives because we hadn't gone on the trip with the rest of the students."

  "I dreamt about you guys too," Caitlin said hesitantly. "I just never talked. I don't talk about the dreams if they are good or way into the future."

  "Really now?" Brigid sat up straighter in the settee. "Tell me. Now, this minute. I need good news."

  "I am not sure if any of the future stuff I dreamt up is real or just wishful thinking," Caitlin said hesitantly. "I just don't want to talk about it."

  "You speak right now, Caity. If you have good news for me you better give it to me now," Brigid threatened, "or I'll find a way to get you back."

  Caitlin smiled. "You are so contrary. You don't believe that my dreams about Todd Taylor are real but you want to believe that the dreams about you are?"

  "Well," Brigid sat back in the settee, "now that you say it like that...I guess we'll just see how this plays out. Okay. I will not say anything more against your dreams. By the way, I just spoke to Nick."

  "I figured. You had a big old cheesy grin on your face when I walked in." Caitlin released her hair from the bun she had it in and it tumbled around her shoulders in a thick mass. She massaged her scalp and groaned in relief. She hadn't realized how wound up she really had been. She finally looked up at Brigid and then found herself feeling tense again, "So what, you two are getting married too?"

  "No, not yet. We haven't been officially together for three days yet and already the m word is being spread about. Give us time."

  "Okay," Caitlin murmured. "That's actually a relief; with Casey going away in a few days, I don't want to lose you so soon. You just got here."

  Brigid chuckled. "Aw, you don't have to worry about me yet, Caity. Actually, when I just spoke to Nick he told me that the personal assistant that he shares with Dr. Singh, the oncologist, is going on maternity leave in two weeks. She was there part time. So I asked for the job instead."

  "Oh. Did he say yes?"

  Brigid wrinkled her brow. "He thought it was unnecessary since I had the scholarship but I convinced him that I need spending money and that I am the right person for the job. The hours are manageable. I report to the main medical secretary. It is also a private hospital with some of the best doctors in their fields, and I'll get to see Nick every day. It should be a learning experience."

  "I think so." Caitlin nodded. "So can you arrange the interview with Helen before you start working for them?"

  "Yes," Brigid said, "I already did. Nick said he would get back to me with the time."

  "Yes, thank you," Caitlin said. "I need to be there, remember. And I will also need to invite our photographer to take some pictures."

  "Sure." Brigid picked up the phone again. "Just remembered something and need to tell Nick about it."

  Caitlin rolled her eyes and got up. She needed to find those notebooks with her dreams.

  She headed to her room and closed the door when Brigid started giggling with Nick over the phone like a giddy teenager.

  *****

  Caitlin pulled out two boxes from the back of the closet. She hadn't opened them in years but everywhere she lived she carried them with her. One of them was looking a little worse for wear. It had gotten slightly damp from a tea spill.

  She loosened the tie on the first box and sneezed when she pried the lid up from it. The first thing she saw on top of the box was her Johnny Clegg and Savuka CD. It couldn't play anymore; it was all scratched up and had a little chip on the edge from being moved around so many times. The chip was from two years ago when she had accidentally stepped on it, but she still kept it. She doubted that she would ever throw it away.

  Her mother had loved African music and in particular the song Asimbonanga. She used to play the song especially when she was cleaning the house. She used to have it on repeat. Caitlin could picture her now, that broad smile on her face; her mom was always laughing and happy.

  God had blessed her with the best parents in the world. Her mom was the genuine smother-you-with-love kind of person and her father was no different. She had been in no doubt that she was loved.

  For years she had blamed God for taking them away but gradually the pain had shifted, and somewhat became manageable. She didn't feel as bitter and abandoned as she had years ago.
These days she thought of them with more fondness than anything else.

  She preferred to count her blessings. She was aware that her life was blessed beyond measure even with them gone.

  She hadn't looked at the albums she had stored in the boxes. For some time now she had been meaning to digitally scan the pictures. Maybe she could do so now that she didn't have school to take up so much of her time.

  But then she remembered that she had work. She skipped through the albums a lot less leisurely than she used to do and then she rummaged through the box where she kept her father's leather-bound diary. She ran her hand over it and the engraved Peter Denvers and then put it with the rest of the stuff in the box. This box mainly had paraphernalia from the days of living with her parents. It was the only part of them she had left.

  The other box though was her Magnolia House box. She was sure that the dream book was in there. She opened the box hurriedly. She couldn't remember putting it in a box. Suppose it wasn't in there; suppose she had lost it in the process of moving?

  Please God, I hope I wasn’t a ninny and left my dream book behind, or my drawings of Todd Taylor.

  She rummaged through all the stuff in the box, taking the items out more hurriedly than she had put them in. A picture fell on her leg and she saw that it was one of her, her sisters and Patricia. It was taken in front of Bungalow Seven. They were about ten years old at the time. Hazel was nine.

  They were in similar summer dresses and their hair was combed into two plaits. Brigid was looking away from the camera, Casey was trying to hide her scar and Hazel was pointing to something in the distance. She and Patricia were the only ones staring into the camera.

  Caitlin laughed. She would have to frame this picture; already it was looking brown around the edges.

  She placed it on the bed and then finally found her notebook at the bottom of the box. She pulled it out in relief. She leaned on the bed and opened it reverently.

  Her eight-year-old handwriting jumped from the first page. She chuckled at the elaborate curls in the letters and then she sobered up when she realized what she had written for her first entry.

  February 28, 1998- I dreamt that my parents were in a car crash and it really came true. Now I have no Mommy and no Daddy. What is going to happen to me? They took me to a place of safety because I have nobody to take care of me. I am sad. I am so sad. I want back my Mommy. I want back my Daddy. God give them back, please. I'll be good if you give them back. Please.

  Tears sprang to Caitlin's eyes as she remembered the suffocating agony she had felt after the social worker had come for her from her home. Carmelita had called them after staying with her for three days. She remembered how frantically Carmelita had called around to her parents' church family and friends.

  She had sat in the sofa in the middle of the half-empty living room of their new apartment. Her mother had not even finished unpacking yet. Carmelita had to go to another job, and she had stayed behind because Caitlin had nobody to stay with her.

  "Where are your grandparents?" Carmelita had asked her.

  "I don't know," Caitlin had responded. "God took Daddy's parents and Mommy's parents live in South Africa."

  Carmelita had groaned in despair. "I can't take care of you, Caitlin. My living situation is not good," she had whispered hoarsely. "Besides, I can't just take you like that; you must have family and friends. People can't just take other people's children to live with them just so."

  She had called most of the numbers in her dad's address book but nobody was capable of or willing to take Caitlin. A few church sisters had come by, along with the pastor, and they had a discussion in the living room as to what to do with her.

  Caitlin had stood at the door as her father's accountant and friend had outlined to the group that her parents had died in debt up to their eyeballs but they had a wealthy friend who was in the process of paying off the business debts.

  "Can't the friend take the child too?" one of the church sisters had asked.

  "No. Not at this time. He just got married; his wife would not allow it." The accountant had paced up and down as the people, most of them strangers, discussed her.

  "Peter had an aunt, Mercy Denvers, but unfortunately Mercy has cancer and is undergoing treatment."

  "Oh Lord. That poor child has nobody," one of the church sisters had said fatalistically.

  "There is the state home," the accountant had said. "She can stay there until Mercy gets better."

  Caitlin had slumped on the floor and cried inconsolably for the rest of the evening.

  Her cell phone rang now and she blinked away the tears. That's why she had put the dratted book in the bottom of her box. Opening it was like opening a wound.

  It brought back the feeling of sheer abandonment and lack of stability that she had felt when her parents died. Brigid called her the normal one but Caitlin had always secretly thought that she wasn't. She had the perfect parents and then they left her. She knew what it was like to have good parents, unlike her sisters. They could only dream about it. She had had the real thing and it was snatched from her.

  That, she thought, was worse than not having had parents at all.

  "Hello," she answered her cell phone, a huskiness to her voice that she wished wasn't there.

  "Hey." It was him. Todd Taylor. His voice was husky, smooth, cultured. She clutched the phone tighter and cleared her throat. She hadn't been expecting to hear from him until his company mixer on Thursday.

  "Hello, Mr. er... Todd."

  "You are not working, are you?" Todd asked.

  "No." Caitlin closed her book and sighed. The first page and she was already derailed. Working was much less of an emotional roller coaster than this. "I was just running through some old stuff. I need to do some work though."

  "Are you okay?" Todd asked gently.

  "Well…" Caitlin tried to sound happy. "No. Well, not really."

  "I can cheer you up," Todd said. "I have a lonely tennis racket sitting beside me in the car. Do you play?"

  "Of course." Caitlin's face lit up. She had not played in ages. Patricia had taught her and her sisters to play years ago. Through the years she had depended on tennis as her stress reliever before exams.

  But she couldn't just go play tennis with Todd. She really had work to do.

  "I can't," she said after a while. "I have work."

  Todd laughed. "I am work too, remember? Just think of playing tennis with me as an installment on your November article."

  "Yes, right." Caitlin got up and sat on the bed. She didn't need much prompting to spend more time with him. She really wanted to get to know him better. "Where do you play?"

  "At the Surrey Health Club in Barbican," Todd said, "but right now I am heading toward New Kingston. Want me to pick you up?"

  She hesitated, so long that Todd laughed. "I am harmless to you, Caitlin. I thought you were reassured today."

  "I, er, not quite..." Caitlin slumped on the edge of her bed. She didn't want to say no either. She really needed to get to know him better, if only because of the article, and he was being surprisingly open and accommodating to her. It was useless, her not wanting him to know where she lived. He was her boss, after all. He could easily find out if he wanted to.

  She exhaled slowly. "I live on Baxter Avenue; my apartment is on the cul-de-sac."

  "Five minutes," Todd said and hung up the phone.

  Caitlin dropped the phone on the bed and got up quickly. Five minutes didn't give her much time to get ready; she was still in her work clothes. She peered out into the living room. Brigid was still on her phone talking and laughing with Nick.

  "I am going out." Caitlin waved at Brigid. "I am going to play tennis at the Surrey Health Club."

  "You are?" Brigid frowned. She then spoke into her phone. "Nick, I'll call you back."

  "Who are you going with?" Brigid asked, a knowing glint in her eye. "Is it Mr. Dream Guy?"

  "Yes," Caitlin said. "That article, remember?"

&nbs
p; "If you want to think that," Brigid said slyly. "Just remember he has a dark side."

  "Oh, stop it!" Caitlin growled, then spun around. "Can I borrow your sports bag?"

  "Sure. Whatever." Brigid got up. "Of the four of us, I am not the voice of reason usually, but I must put on my concerned sister hat and tell you to be careful."

  Caitlin grinned. "I will be careful. I can handle this. You are forgetting that he only kills wives. I am not a wife."

  Brigid sighed. "Not yet. Call me every hour on the hour while you are out or else I am going to send the police to get you."

  "It's just seven o'clock." Caitlin glanced at the clock. "I'll be home soon, worry-wart. I'll call you by nine."

  Chapter Six

  "This is a nice place." Todd said when he drove up to her apartment a couple hours later. He had held the car door open for her and made sure that she was properly seated before going back around to his side of the vehicle. It was such an old fashioned gesture, but Caitlin was still a little taken aback by it. Did he do that for everybody?

  "Yes, it is a nice place and pretty close to work." She glanced at him and smiled. He was dressed in a black track suit bottom and a sleeveless shirt that really highlighted his biceps. She swallowed. Yup, he was fine.

  "You rent here?" Todd was obviously curious about the place. He had a little crease between his brow and he was looking at her inquisitively. He hadn't even started the car.

  "No, I don't rent." Caitlin replied. "Why are you so curious?"

  "How do you afford to live here?" Todd turned to her. "You live here with somebody?"

  Caitlin stiffened. "Why is that an issue?"

  "Just wondering," Todd said easily and started the car.

  "You are acting like a father," Caitlin snorted and regretted it when she saw him stiffen. He turned onto the main road before speaking again.

  "I guess I could be your father." Todd looked at her. "I am sixteen years older than you are. I have a friend, Nathaniel; his daughter is twenty. Your parents were around my age group, weren't they?"

  Caitlin nodded and then said out loud. "Sixteen years is not that bad an age gap. I mean...I don't know what I am saying."