Beautiful Dreamer

by Melissa Brayden

  She shook her head in mystification and made her way up the walk, not even bothering to knock as she entered the house. Jill turned and did a double take once Devyn appeared in the kitchen. She was dressed nicely in jeans and a yellow tunic and had a full face of makeup. She was perfectly fine in every way.

  “Devyn?” She glanced at Charlie in surprise and back again, as if shocked. But there was the problem: She overdid it. That was Jill’s tell, the overacting. “What are you doing here?” she asked loudly.

  Devyn stared at her, exhausted and frustrated. “You haven’t returned any of my calls. Charlie couldn’t find you,” she said, gesturing in annoyance at the guy standing right there in plain sight of Jill. “So, you’re fine, then?” she asked, just for complete clarification. “Totally okay?”

  Jill nodded.

  “Then what the hell, Jill?” Devyn practically fell onto the floor in exasperation. What a total clusterfuck this whole day had been.

  “I’m so sorry. I must have had my phone turned off,” Jill said, with a wince.

  Charlie nodded vigorously. “She did. And when I also didn’t get an answer this morning when I knocked on her door, I tried you.”

  Jill raised her shoulders apologetically. “I was doing some early-morning grocery shopping. I sometimes like to avoid the rush.”

  Devyn didn’t believe these two for a second. “Were you trying to get me back here? Is that it?” She studied both of their faces.

  Guilt hung from Charlie’s features like an uncomfortably crooked painting. He looked away and she sighed.

  “Someone want to tell me what’s going on? I’m hanging on by a thread here. I was terrified for you and just abandoned everything I had on my schedule today to get here. I got on a damned plane. I need to understand—”

  The doorbell chimed and Jill leapt into action. “Sorry, Devyn. We have dinner guests. You’re welcome to stay. I made that garlic chicken you love. Charlie, grab an extra chair from the front room.”

  Panic struck Charlie’s face, and his eyes darted to the table in question. Devyn followed his gaze where she saw that he’d already brought in a fifth chair, which really just said it all. Yep. This had been a setup. She heard voices from the entryway. Elizabeth and Dexter. She only had a second or two to prep herself but the wistfulness was upon her immediately, blocking that endeavor.

  She turned and her gaze landed on Elizabeth, who froze.

  Her lips parted slightly. She carried a six-pack of longnecks in one hand and a bouquet of flowers in the other, a gracious guest as always. “Oh.” A pause. “Hi.”

  “Hi,” Devyn said, and shifted. She was instantly aware of her appearance, and closed her eyes in mortification. Jeans and an unironed white button-down shirt she often wore for work. Maybe it was buttoned correctly. Maybe it wasn’t. Her hair had been finger-combed in the car at best. She probably looked like someone who’d been out on an all-night bender while she stood facing the woman she loved.

  And there it was. The word had been on the tip of her tongue more than once.

  She didn’t resist it in this moment the way she had shoved it aside anytime it tried to make an appearance in her head. Yet standing in this kitchen, staring at Elizabeth, who was everything that was good and worthy in this world, the feelings were too overwhelming. She let them wash over her like a flood.

  “I didn’t expect to see you here,” Elizabeth said, and looked to Jill as if to find out why she hadn’t been told.

  “She just showed up,” Jill said with an excited smile as she carried a big bowl of potatoes to the table. “Isn’t this a nice surprise? I had no idea.”

  “That’s a lie.” Devyn blinked and pointed at her sister. “She faked her own disappearance and gave me a virtual heart attack to get me here to check on her.”

  “Oh, damn,” Dexter said, the smile fading from his face.

  Elizabeth’s brow furrowed and she set down the beer.

  Devyn wasn’t done with Jill. She rounded the island after her, and the anger came through in her voice. “Using your well-being as bait is so far out of bounds, Jill, that I don’t even know what to say to you right now. You know what your accident did to me, and you used my own trauma like a weapon against me. The ultimate manipulation.”

  “How about we have some dinner? We can do that instead of this,” Jill said, trying to dodge the accusation.

  “Not until you explain yourself.”

  “Maybe you two could talk after dinner,” Charlie said. He looked caught, and he damn well should feel that way. He was a part of this.

  Devyn whirled on him. “And you’re no better, calling me so concerned like that, doing her bidding.”

  Jill waved her off. “Don’t beat up on Charlie. I made him do it.”

  “So, you admit it. Unbelievable,” Devyn said, throwing her hands in the air. She stalked into the living room and placed her hands on her hips, back to the room as she seethed. “Who does that to someone?”

  It was quiet. But only for a moment.

  “Who does that?” Elizabeth repeated quietly.

  She turned. “Yeah.”

  Elizabeth pulled her face back, amazed, shocked. “I could ask you the very same question, so don’t you dare get mad at Jill, who has been nothing but kind. You bolted from this town the second you were called and never looked back. You never returned my calls. You never sent a text. An email. You disappeared off the planet, as far as I was concerned. By choice.” The intensity rose in her voice as she spoke. “Maybe I’m inconsequential to you, but I’m a person, Devyn. I have hopes, and fears, and a family, and feelings. I matter.”

  “I know that,” Devyn said, quietly. “Of course you matter.” But underneath she knew exactly what she’d done to Elizabeth and how awful it was. Who does that, indeed? She deflated, hating herself more than she’d ever hated anything.

  “Then why did you vanish, huh? Why did you treat me like dirt beneath your shoe?” She was advancing on Devyn now, fire in her eyes.

  Devyn had not seen this version of Elizabeth and couldn’t stand that she’d hurt her in this way. Every justification she’d come up with when she’d been back in Philadelphia felt selfish now and was dismissed from her brain in that instant. She’d been so very wrong.

  “Why aren’t you saying anything?” Elizabeth asked, face-to-face with her now. She was on the verge of tears but held them back admirably. Anger was king, holding court. Devyn swallowed and Elizabeth poked her shoulder hard with one finger. “What you do to people is not okay. I don’t know who the hell you are. Maybe I never did.” She turned back to the room and paused, trying to soften. “I’m sorry, everyone.”

  “You don’t need to apologize,” Jill said.

  Dexter shook his head. “Nope.”

  Charlie rocked back on his heels, looking uncomfortable.

  “I’m the one who should be apologizing,” Devyn said, finding Elizabeth’s gaze. “Could we maybe step aside? Talk for a minute, just us?”

  Elizabeth gestured to the table. “No, I don’t think we’ll be doing that. Time to eat.”

  * * *

  If they could bottle discomfort, they’d all be very rich. Elizabeth had never sat through a more tension-filled dinner in her entire life. She was determined to hold her head high, though, and not show Devyn all the new cracks in her emotional armor, the ones Devyn had inflicted. She wouldn’t give her the satisfaction. Silverware clinked against plates in a sort of unfortunate underscore. She received more than one check-in glance from Dexter, who took it upon himself to try and keep conversation afloat, with Jill acting as his only real teammate in the effort.

  “This weather, though,” he said. “This is my jam. I’ve been working out outside more. I’m not like most people. I welcome the summer heat. Gets me going.”

  “I’m the complete opposite,” Jill said, as if it were the most interesting topic in the world. “When the thermometer climbs over eighty, I’m a compulsive indoor dweller.”

  Dexter laughed too lo
ud at what wasn’t even really a joke. Jill joined him. The rest of them nodded. New clinking commenced.

  When the dinner from hell came to a close, Elizabeth helped clear the plates from the table, all the while acutely aware of Devyn’s gaze on her anywhere she went in the room. She found it irritating. Why was Devyn so interested now after weeks of nothing? She ignored her and focused on the task at hand. Stack the plates. Accept the serving bowl from Charlie. Resist Jill’s attempts to get her to stop helping. One foot in front of the other until she’d stayed long enough to seem reasonable. At last, that moment arrived.

  “Thank you for having me,” she told Jill, as she pulled her into a hug. “Your culinary skills continue to impress.”

  Jill squeezed her hands. “You sure you don’t want to stick around? Have a beer on the back porch? Charlie and Dexter are already out there.”

  Elizabeth shook her head, knowing she needed to get out of there. “Please tell Dexter I decided to walk home. I don’t want to pull him away. He should enjoy himself.”

  “I get why you’re angry. You should be. Just…keep an open mind, okay?” Jill sighed and walked her to the door. “I’m sorry if you felt ambushed tonight. Forgive me.”

  “Noting to forgive. You were trying to help.”

  “I was. But maybe I misjudged this one.” She scratched the back of her neck in guilt.

  “I did, too. Good night, Jilly. Call me soon and we can go school supply shopping. You know it’s my favorite.”

  Once the door closed behind her, Elizabeth shrugged out of her open plaid shirt, leaving just the maroon spaghetti strap top beneath. She needed to free herself from that whole experience, and the less that encumbered her, even physically, the better. The summer evening air on her skin helped. She paused at the end of the driveway and took a deep, steading inhale.

  “I think I really fucked up.” She turned around and saw the most beautiful woman in the world walking toward her. Devyn’s hazel eyes carried worry. No, maybe that was fear. “Amend that. I know I did. Seeing you…I can’t describe it, but it’s made everything snap into focus.”

  “I’m happy I helped with that.” She turned to go.

  Devyn raced forward. “But before you leave, try to understand that I’m not good at any of this.”

  “You’ve mentioned that. You were right.”

  Devyn nodded, accepting the barb. “I was planning on calling when I got back to Philly. I honestly was, but I was scared. What you and I had changed me, and I’ve never felt more terrified of anything in my life. It became easier to just avoid dealing with the concept of us altogether. I ran, and I’m an ass for that.”

  “Ya think?” Elizabeth wrapped her arms around herself. She was aware of the intense effect of being near Devyn. She felt her all over, and what she once cherished, she now hated. Devyn’s power over her apparently hadn’t changed, only it was no longer a good thing.

  “It was awful of me. I’m awful.” A pause. “But you’re not. God, Elizabeth, I’m so sorry.”

  Elizabeth nodded. “Thank you for saying so. I’m gonna go. Please let me do that.” She headed off down the sidewalk, the conversation just a bit too much for her in her present state. She was just a few blocks from home and could have made it there in no time flat. Instead, she walked a little farther, meandering through town, or at least pretending to. The evening was a comfortable one and she smiled at her neighbors, some of whom walked dogs, while others watered their lawns. Crickets chirped. She scrunched her shoulders, very much lost in her own depressing feelings. She didn’t notice when the tears made their way onto her cheeks, but they’d apparently done so at some point. The doorstep she eventually landed upon seemed only a minor surprise.

  Her mother answered after a lengthy pause. “Well, I’ll be. Elizabeth.” The smile was immediate. She wore no makeup and her normally glamorous persona was MIA. The woman before Elizabeth was stripped down and looked much older than she was used to. She wore baggy jeans and an untucked high school T-shirt. There were no heels, only bare feet with red polished toenails. “Come inside. This is an unexpected surprise.”

  She’d been in her mother’s home before, but it’d been a while. It smelled homey, like maybe they’d had fried chicken for dinner that night. Jeopardy was on the TV, and there were a couple of pairs of tennis shoes abandoned on the living room rug. A soft-looking plaid blanket sat unfolded on the couch, and she could hear the girls’ voices upstairs. It felt like a real home, and though it wasn’t hers, she took comfort.

  “I was on a walk. I almost passed by, but I don’t know. I decided I’d stop and say hello.”

  Her mother tossed her hands in the air. “Of course you should have. I’m thrilled as a tick on a piglet. Here, sit.” She caught sight of the blanket and immediately set to folding it. “I was making me some black brew. That’s what I call coffee. Want some black brew?”

  “Sure. I’ll take some.”

  “Coming right up. Two cups of brew for two weary gals.”

  Elizabeth felt lost and didn’t know what she was doing there, but the comfort that seeped in felt pleasant and very much needed. She sank into the comfy couch and exhaled as her mother prepared coffee in the kitchen to her left. “I tell you what, I just had the trickiest of days. One of those rough ones where it feels like nothin’ much is going your way and you might as well just put on your comfy pants and watch Alex Trebek.” She gestured to the television, and Elizabeth smiled.

  “I didn’t have a great day either. Devyn showed up after weeks of not speaking to me.”

  “Oh yeah?” Elizabeth could hear the coffee being stirred, though she didn’t look over. “She blew you off after heading back to the city?”

  “Expertly.”

  “Well, that’s no good,” her mother said. She came around the couch and handed the warm cup to Elizabeth, who cradled it in both hands. “What do you think happened there?”

  Elizabeth took a moment. “Hard to say. Maybe she just wasn’t that into me.”

  “You really think that’s it?”

  Elizabeth blew on her coffee, and the warmth blew back against her face. “No.”

  “Nah, me neither. She was all starry-eyed when I met her. Couldn’t stop looking at you like you climbed a ladder and hung the moon on a hook in the sky. She was gone on you.”

  “I’d started to believe that, too.” She shook her head and humiliation overcame her. “Maybe we can talk about something else?”

  Her mother nodded. “Yep. How about I bore you with the details of how my entire roundup of groceries was left at Festive Foods this afternoon with a stock boy named Johnny standing guard, and then we can watch some Jeopardy?”

  Elizabeth smiled, actually liking that idea very much, as surprising as that was. “Tell me about Johnny and the groceries.”

  And she did. They spent the evening trading stories as Elizabeth warmed up to the give-and-take a little bit at a time. Two hours later, the devastation of Devyn had been replaced with a solid kernel of hope for her relationship with her mom. No, she didn’t dare put too many eggs in that basket, but they’d had a good night…for the second time in a row.

  “You’ve been more than hospitable,” Elizabeth said, as she washed her cup in the sink. “I’m gonna get out of your way now and go throw a rubber monkey for my dog. She’s obsessed.”

  “More exciting than the rest of my night folding laundry.” They walked to the door. Her mother looked at her with sincerity, the usual energy in her voice gone. “Lizzie, I can’t say how happy it’s made me that you stopped by. Made my whole week.”

  Elizabeth nodded. “Yeah, well. It was nice. To talk a little bit.”

  “For me, too.” A pause. “Don’t punish her too bad if she’s truly sorry. Some of us struggle when it comes to knowing where we belong in this world. Not makin’ excuses for her or for me, just sayin’ it might take her longer to know what you always have, sweet girl. Does that make sense?”

  “Maybe. But I’m not sure I’m ready to he
ar it quite yet.”

  “I know.” Her mother opened her arms for a good-night hug, and without even thinking about it, Elizabeth moved into them. The familiar scent of products she remembered from childhood bombarded her senses and she relaxed into the comfort. This wasn’t a sad hug, but rather a fortifying one that left her ready to stand tall and face her troubles. She’d found her strength on that couch, with Jeopardy on the TV, from one of the most unlikely sources. Would wonders never cease?

  “Good night,” she told her mom. “And keep an eye on those groceries from now on. Make sure they’re in your trunk before driving away next time.”

  “Trust me, never again. Night night, Lizzie.”

  She walked home then, back in her open plaid shirt, hands stuffed into the pockets of her jeans. The wind lifted and released her hair in spurts. Her mother might be a little too loud, and gaudy, and into attention, but there seemed to be something well-intended at her core. Maybe she had grown and changed and learned from her mistakes.

  Maybe that kind of thing was possible after all.

  * * *

  “I did it for you, ya know,” Jill said.

  Devyn nodded into the night, her gaze never leaving the small expanse of their backyard. It was the lightning bugs that held her attention most, transporting her back to one of the most wonderful and carefree evenings she’d ever experienced. It was the night she’d really gotten to know Elizabeth beyond all the stress of Jill’s accident.

  “How do you figure?”

  “I knew when you saw her, you’d realize what you were giving up.”

  Devyn tipped back her scotch. “A wake-up call. Is that what you were after?”

  Jill took her spot next to Devyn in the Adirondack chair just beyond the back porch. “Well, I wanted to see your face as well, so that was certainly a bonus.”

  “Consider your mission successful, because my head is beyond fucked up now. Cheers.”

  Jill winced at the swear word the way she had when they were kids. She’d never quite been a rule breaker, which was why this little stunt was so unexpected. They let the silence linger. Devyn drank her scotch. Jill sipped from whatever the hell dessert drink she’d thrown together. Baileys? Frangelico?