In My Dreams

by Muriel Jensen

  Jack pointed to Margaret. “That’s the lady who made the cookies that came in it. You remember, I ate all of them?”

  “Oh, yeah.” Bobby Jay grinned at Margaret’s look of pleasure. “The cookies were long gone by the time I got to play with it, but I really liked that truck. When my mom fell in love with the man who owned the building and we moved away, Jack gave me the dump truck.” He punched Jack in the arm. “I still have it. Meant a lot to me, man.”

  “Why’d you move away,” Vinny asked, “when the building is here?”

  “No Coopers had lived here for fifteen years or more. When the last renter defaulted, my father had lost a lot in the downtrend and decided to let the city have it. So when this opportunity arose,” he said, “and Marcie called me, I figured I had to do something for this town and the cool kid who gave me his dump truck.”

  Jack looked embarrassed under the praise and the smattering of applause that followed. Sarah wished she could have him to herself for just five minutes, but it didn’t look as though that was going to happen.

  Ben and Gary arrived with two large boxes filled with individual bags. “They’re all McMuffins and potatoes,” Ben said. “Hope that’s okay.”

  The impromptu party went on for another hour. Sarah made a pot of coffee and Helen cut up fruit. Those without access to the table ate off their laps, the conversation so lively that no one noticed the inconvenience.

  While Ben talked to Bobby Jay, Sarah saw Helen take Jack aside. She had no idea what they were discussing, but they looked serious. Jack nodded while his mother spoke. At one point he shook his head and that seemed to upset Helen. He put a hand to her arm and smiled, seeming to tease her. They ended their conversation with a hug.

  Jack then ran upstairs and returned with the leather jacket he wore when he performed with the Wild Men. He needed it for the rehearsal that night. Her heart sank. So he hadn’t come home; he’d simply forgotten something.

  He went to the door, stopping to raise his hand in a goodbye gesture. “Nice to meet all of you,” he said, his eyes still troubled but his smile genuine. He looked at his father. “Bye, Dad,” and then pointed to Bobby Jay. “We’ll get together after the show Saturday night.”

  Bobby Jay gestured at Ben. “Can we bring your brother along?”

  Jack pretended reluctance. “If we have to. Bye, everybody.”

  A chorus of goodbyes followed him out the door.

  Sarah felt that clot of emotion in her chest. He hadn’t even looked at her when he’d said goodbye.

  She explained that to Helen later when Marcie and Bobby Jay had departed and Ben had left to take the seniors home.

  “He’s still focused on the blindness of his memory all these years,” his mother said. “I think he’ll come out of it eventually, find a way to forgive himself, and when he does, you should be there.”

  “But when he first walked in the door, he never looked at me.”

  “I think he’s thinking he has no right to have you.”

  Sarah doubted that was true, but hugged Helen anyway.

  What would she do, she wondered later when she stood under a hot shower, letting it beat on the knotted muscles in her neck, if he didn’t come out of it?

  Now that she saw the road ahead, how could she take it if he wasn’t beside her? She couldn’t imagine. She could go on, of course, but without the laughter and the shine he brought to her life. And without the children that she now wanted more than anything.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  THE HIGH-SCHOOL auditorium was packed for Bobby Jay’s performance and the talent show. Dress rehearsal had gone reasonably well, though not brilliantly, but the drama teacher standing by to help told Sarah that was a good sign. That meant opening night would be great.

  The local women’s service club was handling ticket sales, and the chairwoman caught Sarah backstage to tell her they’d made a small fortune so far. And ticket sales weren’t done yet. There was still standing room.

  Sarah turned to share the good news and saw Margaret arm in arm with Bobby Jay. Margaret’s hair, she noticed, had been softly styled, lending her a more approachable air. Sarah told her she looked wonderful.

  “Marcie helped me.” Margaret handed Sarah a large zip-top bag of cookies. “These are for Jack,” she said. “Will you see that he gets them?”

  “Uh...sure.” She and Jack weren’t talking much, it seemed, but she could always give them to Ben to give to Jack.

  With a parting wave, Margaret left to prepare for her performance. Bobby Jay asked where Jack was. Sarah explained that he was living in Ben’s condo and that she hadn’t seen him since the morning they’d all been at the Palmers’ for breakfast.

  “Yeah. Ben told me a little bit about it. Pretty awful thing. Anyway, I’m going to see him after the show.”

  An image of Jack came forward in her mind as it had a hundred times since that morning. She was beginning to think his escape to Ben’s condo didn’t bode well for their life together. She ached to help him, but he apparently thought he had to deal with this alone. He’d experienced all kinds of things she couldn’t even imagine, so maybe she wouldn’t be of much comfort.

  She pushed all thoughts of him away to deal with all she had to do tonight. She looked around with mild trepidation. Must be the classic opening night jitters. Mercifully, opening night was closing night, so whatever went wrong wouldn’t happen again. She peeked out at the audience and saw Gary and Helen Palmer sitting with Corie in the first row. She hoped that whatever had gone wrong in the young woman’s life would right itself, too.

  At eight o’clock the director of the seniors’ center, a tall young man in his thirties serving as emcee, welcomed everyone and announced that the seniors were acquiring the Cooper Building, which brought a round of applause.

  Then he introduced Bobby Jay Cooper, who walked onstage with his warm personality and easy charm, and sang a song about small towns, close friendships and neighbors who were friends forever. The evening was off to a wonderful start.

  When he finished, he spoke briefly about the time he’d spent in Beggar’s Bay, about his connection to the Cooper Building and even about Jack and their friendship forged in the stockroom of Cubby’s.

  He also thanked all the generous people who’d volunteered to perform and all the townspeople who’d bought tickets.

  Then the lights went down, a spotlight picked out the middle of the stage and an attractive, glamorously dressed patron of the seniors’ center walked on with a big placard that she placed on an easel. The placard read Beggar’s Bay Fire Department Men’s Chorus. There was enthusiastic applause, then silence fell and a dozen handsome men in evening dress began to sing “Stouthearted Men.”

  Sarah, standing in the wings, couldn’t quite believe her ears. They were magnificent, stellar and more harmonious and inspired than they’d been last night. Whatever notes weren’t perfect were covered by the fervor of their delivery. Their good looks didn’t hurt, either.

  They received a standing ovation.

  Sarah, jaw dropping, looked across the stage at Marcie, who stood in the wings stage right. Marcie gave her a thumbs-up.

  The evening went on as though Michael Bennett had produced and directed it after finishing A Chorus Line. Act after act met enthusiastic response from the audience. The Wild Men brought the house down with “Bye, Bye, Bye.” Sarah watched Jack greedily, hoping the title of their song had no significance to his future plans. His performance seemed a little less lively than usual, but she doubted that anyone else noticed. Ben and the De Angelis boys were over-the-top wild.

  Margaret’s performance was perfect in an absolutely silent auditorium and the high-school drama club’s glimpse of Romeo and Juliet was stunning.

  Vinny and his group, known as Caruso Plus 2, typical of Vinny’s narcissism, did their romantic m
edley of Sinatra tunes, then shocked Sarah when Margaret joined them for their last number.

  She gave “Stardust” a unique treatment with her low, moody voice, and went on to do rich justice to the Hoagy Carmichael classic. The theme, Sarah thought, was a lot like the song she’d sung earlier, bright memories of a love that was lost.

  When she’d finished, there was a moment of complete silence, then a roar of approval came from the audience and everyone backstage.

  Vinny walked from the piano, leaning on his cane. When the roar abated and they’d all taken a bow, he gave Margaret a hug. Sarah saw them exchange a few words and hug again. The audience continued to shout their approval.

  At the end of the evening Bobby Jay announced a tie between Margaret and Caruso Plus 2 and the Beggar’s Bay Firemen’s Chorus. He suggested a sing-off.

  Margaret and Vinny’s group did “Swinging on a Star” and the firemen sang “Men of Harlech.”

  Bobby Jay declared the tie unbroken and both groups were awarded first prize. The Wild Men followed with second and the drama club with third.

  An hour later, when the audience and most of the performers had left, Sarah sat alone in a front seat, looking at the empty stage and feeling as though she’d helped mount a Broadway production that had garnered rave reviews.

  Now, if she could just do that with her life. There was comfort in the fact that Margaret and Vinny were friends again, and that the seniors would own their new center and could now afford many of the extras that would make it a great place to spend their time.

  It was a bittersweet triumph.

  She grabbed her jacket and purse on the seat beside her and headed backstage for one last look around to make sure no one had forgotten anything. She went to the dressing room everyone had used to primp and change and was surprised to see Jack, Ben and Bobby Jay still in it, chairs gathered in a loose circle.

  “Hey, you’re still here,” she said, hoping no one noticed the way her breath caught at the sight of Jack.

  “We’re going out to party tonight at Betty’s before Bobby Jay goes home,” Ben said, “but Bobby Jay said there was something he wanted to do first.”

  “That’s right,” Bobby Jay said and reached for a large FedEx box sitting on the floor. Ben pulled a chair up for Sarah between him and Jack.

  “I’m not staying,” she said with a smile all around, letting it linger an extra moment on Jack. “I was just making sure we hadn’t left a mess.”

  “No, stay,” Bobby Jay insisted. “In fact, you’re welcome to come with us. And if you’re going to marry Jack, you might like to see this, too.”

  She gave Jack a startled look. He looked back at her and smiled.

  * * *

  JACK DRANK IN the sight of Sarah. It had been most of two days since the thrill of loving her had been killed by what he’d learned about himself. He could resolve that he’d shot Brauer, but the wasted hate was hard to live with. He was trying to distill all those years into the simple truth that, in the end, his mother had loved him. He was beginning to think he could live with that.

  “So.” Bobby Jay handed Jack the box. It had a FedEx label on it with Marcie Thurgood’s address. “This is for you.”

  “What is it?” Jack asked, a little embarrassed by being given a gift.

  Bobby Jay shrugged. “Open it.” He handed Jack a pocketknife.

  Jack slit the tape, handed back the knife, then pulled apart the flaps. He reached into a nest of shredded paper and pulled out a Tonka dump truck, not just any Tonka dump truck, but the very one he and Bobby Jay had played with twenty-four years ago. It was still bright red, though it was scratched and dinged. Jack swept a hand along a wheel and it turned as though brand-new.

  He couldn’t have said why tears crowded his throat. He looked up at Bobby Jay, whose blue eyes betrayed the same emotion. “We were a couple of lonely kids, man,” the country singer said, “and you were kind to me. I never forgot that.” He cleared his throat. “Someday you and Sarah will have a son to give it to.” He made a self-deprecating gesture. “I have two little girls. Girlie girls. This should be yours now.”

  Before she could think twice about the gesture, Sarah put the bag of cookies Margaret had given her for him into the truck.

  “Those are from Margaret,” she said.

  He looked down at the cookies in the dump truck and did an instant mental trip back to that moment when the world had seemed to be a dark, unfriendly place and someone had thought of him with generosity and kindness. It occurred to him now that in the years that had passed, he hadn’t lost a thing. He had what had meant so much to him twenty-four years ago—and so much more.

  Now that he’d had a few days to relive the night Brauer died, he had a new perspective. He knew he’d been the instrument, but everything that had brought the family to that point hadn’t been his fault. He accepted that the mother he loved had been a bad mother, but she’d still loved him. He knew that the past didn’t have to determine the future.

  Jack looked at Bobby Jay. “Thanks, Bobby. Your friendship meant a lot to me in those days, too. And it does now.”

  Ben chose that moment to get to his feet. “Okay,” he said, beckoning for Bobby Jay to follow him. He looked from Jack to Sarah and back again. “I imagine the two of you have things to say to each other. So we’ll see you at Betty’s. And, hey, don’t keep us waiting too long.” He and Bobby Jay left.

  Sarah took the truck from Jack and looked it over. “You know,” she said, smiling into his eyes, “we might have a daughter who’ll just love a dump truck. Doesn’t have to be a son.”

  He met her gaze, saw the warmth and love there. He got to his feet and pulled her up, then put his arms around her and tugged her close, or at least as close as the toy she held allowed.

  “I adore you,” he said, planting a kiss at her ear. “I’m so sorry I lost it and scared you.”

  She put the truck on a chair, then wrapped both arms around his neck and held tightly. “It’s all right. I can only imagine how awful that must have been for you to remember, but those days are over. You’re a remarkable man to have gone through that and come out the Jack Palmer I know and love. And want to spend the rest of my life with.”

  “Oh, Sarah.” He kissed her and put everything he felt into the kiss, for there were no words. Then he pulled back and smiled. “Are you going to ask me to marry you again?”

  “Do I have to? I believed you the first time you say yes.”

  * * *

  SARAH WAS AMAZED that this was her life now. A couple of months ago it had been in ashes—literally—and now there was so much promise. “Come on,” she said, giving him one last quick kiss. “We should go meet Bobby Jay and Ben. Are you sure you want me along? Weren’t you going to talk about guy stuff?”

  “No,” he replied firmly. “After the past few days I don’t want you to leave me ever, for any reason.”

  They turned to leave and then remembered the dump truck. “We’ll have to find somewhere prominent to put this,” he said as he retrieved it.

  She felt laughter bubble up. “Until we have that son or daughter, it makes a great cookie jar.”

  EPILOGUE

  BEN COULDN’T WAIT to get back to the RAV4 he’d borrowed from his mother to drive the honeymooners and Corie to the airport.

  The Thanksgiving holiday weekend had been warm and chaotic. Everyone in the Palmer household had traveled to Sarah’s parents’ home in Seattle, where the Reeds, having learned of the impending marriage of their second daughter and the pregnancy of their first, had insisted on hosting Thanksgiving with tons of food and serious gratitude all around. Then Jack and Sarah had been married quietly there, in Seattle, on the Saturday of the weekend, with both sets of parents, Corie and Ben, and Kate and her husband, Drew, present.

  Ben had just dropped off Jack an
d Sarah at the Alaska Airlines terminal, where they were boarding a flight to San Francisco. And now he was standing with Corie at the Southwest Airlines terminal, where she was taking a flight back to Texas.

  Corie turned to him and smiled politely, then offered her hand. “Thank you for the ride...and for everything.”

  “Sure.” He shook her hand. It seemed small and slender in his, though her grip was firm. “Safe travels home. Please keep in touch with Jack.”

  “Yes.” She turned and looked in the direction of her gate. He sensed reluctance in her and experienced a moment of panic. No, please go. He was afraid she’d gotten a glimpse of genuine family life and didn’t want to leave.

  He started to back away. “Take care, Corie.”

  She nodded slowly, as though this was something she’d experienced before. And of course she had, he knew that. A kid nobody wanted. He felt a pinch of conscience, but it was overridden by a finely honed sense of self-preservation.

  She picked up her bag and squared her shoulders. “Bye, Ben,” she said and marched away.

  He breathed a sigh of relief and loped to the car before she could change her mind.

  * * *

  THAT EVENING BEN stood at the kitchen counter in his condo, making a sandwich while watching the news.

  The newscaster announced the “Funny Story” segment that ended each broadcast. It was usually some amusing event considered more noteworthy than newsworthy.

  Jack put his sandwich together and went to the refrigerator for a soda when the words “Ocean Drive” and “Corpus Christi, Texas” coming from the television caught his attention.

  Soda in hand, he went to stand in front of the TV and listened. A beefy, middle-aged man appeared on screen with a very blonde and buxom woman, holding up a box. The man was Tyree, Teresa’s landlord. A close-up of the priority-mail box revealed the very one Grady had mailed for Ben from Seattle.