The Way to Yesterday

by Sharon Sala

  The brutality of the moment stopped Mary short. In her mind, it was but another bit of proof as to how perfectly cruel life could be. If Hope hadn’t died—

  “Mommy! Where are you?” the little girl cried.

  Mary swallowed past the knot of misery in her throat and stepped out of the shadows and into the light. No matter how much it would hurt her, the child was obviously lost and afraid. But the words never came out of her mouth. When the child saw her move, the frown on her face turned to joy.

  “Mommy! Mommy! We’re ready to go! Daddy’s going to buy us all ice cream and I want banilla with starberry sprinkles.”

  Shock spread across Mary’s face as she stared at the approaching child in disbelief. Then over the child’s shoulder, she saw the sunlight on the floor suddenly shrink as a man appeared in the doorway. At first, she saw nothing but a big, dark silhouette, but then he spoke and the sound of his voice grabbed her heart.

  “There you are,” he chided, and took the little girl by the hand before she could go any farther.

  Mary struggled to take a breath. Damn you, God…you took my reasons for living and left me behind. Now you want my sanity, too?

  The man looked up at Mary and grinned.

  “Hey, honey. Did you find anything you can’t live without?”

  Mary moaned and took a short step backward. Why was this happening? That had always been a running joke between herself and Daniel when they used to go antiquing, but this wasn’t funny.

  Then the man moved past the doorway and further into the store. When Mary saw his face she started to shake. Black hair, blue eyes and that square jaw with a slight dimple in his chin. Daniel? Oh God…Daniel.

  “Mary…darling…are you all right? You look a little pale.”

  He reached for her, steadying her with a hand to the shoulder, then he cupped her face.

  She looked up in horror. She could feel his fingers on her skin. This wasn’t possible. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. PTSD. That’s what it was. Post-traumatic stress disorder, brought on by her foray into antiques. When she opened her eyes, he would be gone. All of this would be gone. But when she looked he was still there, leaning closer now, and she could feel his breath on her face.

  “Daniel?”

  He smiled. “Definitely not the Easter Bunny,” he teased.

  She fainted in his arms.

  “Mary…darling…can you hear me?”

  Mary moaned. “Make it go away,” she muttered.

  Daniel frowned. “Make what go away?”

  “The dreams. Make them all go away.”

  He shook his head slightly, ignoring her rambling remarks as he continued to dab her forehead and cheeks with a dampened handkerchief. Before he could answer her, Hope slid between them and put a hand on her father’s arm.

  “Daddy, what’s the matter with Mommy?”

  “I think maybe she just got too hot.”

  His daughter’s voice trembled slightly. “Is she going to die?”

  “No, baby…oh no! Mommy’s fine. See! She’s waking up right now.”

  Mary found herself focusing on the sound of their voices and wondered when she looked, which dream she would be in—the one from her past or the one from the future. The urge to scream was uppermost in her mind, but what was happening was inevitable. She was losing her mind. It was the only explanation for the fact that she kept slipping in and out of a fantasy. She shouldn’t be surprised that it was finally happening. She was having a nervous breakdown. End of story. Curious as to what she’d see next, she opened her eyes.

  “See,” Daniel said. “I told you she was okay.” Then his voice deepened as he caressed the side of her face. “Sweetheart…how do you feel?”

  “Crazy,” she muttered. “How about you?”

  He chuckled and then winked at Hope. “I think the worst is over. At least your mother’s sense of humor is firmly in place.”

  “Help me up,” Mary muttered.

  Daniel stood, then put his hands beneath her arms and pulled her upright.

  “Easy,” he warned. “You might still be dizzy.”

  Mary swayed momentarily, then slowly gained her equilibrium.

  “Okay?” he asked.

  She took a deep breath and then nodded.

  “Mommy?”

  Mary’s stomach knotted as she looked down at the little girl.

  “I don’t have to get banilla ice cream today,” Hope said.

  Mary frowned, then remembered something being said about vanilla ice cream with strawberry sprinkles.

  “That’s very sweet of you, but I’m all right.”

  “Oh goody,” Hope cried. “Ice cream will make you feel better, too.”

  Daniel slid an arm around Mary’s waist and turned her toward the door.

  “Hope, can you carry Mommy’s purse for her, please?”

  “Yes. I always carry it when Mommy’s arms are full of groceries,” she said, then picked up the shoulder bag Mary had dropped and slung it across her shoulder.

  Mary fought the urge to laugh, but she was afraid if she started, she wouldn’t be able to stop. Maybe she should tell someone what was happening. Then she discarded the thought. After all, who would believe her?

  As they started out the door, she paused and looked back, but the old man was nowhere in sight. That figured. She’d probably imagined him, too.

  When the sunlight hit her face, she squinted and ducked her head against the glare. And because she did, she missed the fact that she was being led to a waiting car. When they paused, she looked up, her eyes widening at the big, white Cadillac Daniel was unlocking.

  “I walked here,” she muttered.

  Daniel frowned and ran his hand through her hair.

  “What are you doing?” Mary asked.

  “I was checking for a bump. You’re not making a lot of sense right now and might have a slight concussion. I thought I caught you before you hit the floor, but I could be wrong.”

  “I didn’t hit my head,” she said. “I just lost my mind.”

  Hope giggled. “Mommy’s funny.”

  Mary let herself be seated in the car and then watched as Daniel put Hope in the back seat. Without thinking, Mary turned around, got up on her knees and buckled the little girl into her booster seat. It wasn’t until she had turned around and was reaching for her own seat belt that she realized what she’d done. It had been so natural. Something she’d done without thinking. Something she’d done a thousand times before. She pulled the sun visor down and then looked at herself in the attached mirror. Ignoring her pallor, she stared, trying to find the madness in the woman looking back. But all she could see was a slight expression of shock.

  Then her gaze slid past her own reflection to the child behind her as Daniel got into the car. He reached for Mary’s hand and gave her fingers a slight squeeze.

  “Honey…are you sure you’re up for this ice cream stop?”

  “I have no idea, but we’ll soon find out.”

  “It’s not that important,” Daniel said. “Hope won’t mind.”

  “But I will,” Mary muttered. “In fact, I’d say we have to go. I can’t wait to see what happens next.”

  Chapter 4

  Daniel was more than a little distracted by Mary’s behavior as he drove through the Savannah streets. Even though it had been overly warm inside the old store, it wasn’t like her to faint. When he came to a main intersection and stopped at the red light, he reached across the seat and threaded his fingers through hers.

  “How are you feeling?”

  Her eyes widened as she stared down at his hand and then he heard her take a deep shaky breath.

  “Mary Faith…what’s wrong?”

  Mary didn’t know what to say. She was convinced that this was nothing more than an extension of her other fantasy. The dead do not come back to life, but she’d never had a dream this real. If she only had a choice, she would choose this insanity rather than go back to the loneliness and misery of her li
fe. And therein lay her dilemma. If she voiced her fears, would it make all of this disappear? The fact that she could actually feel Daniel’s hand on hers was an unbelievable facet to this dream. To lose it—and him—again, would break what was left of her heart.

  She managed a smile and opted for safety.

  “I’m fine,” she said. “Stop worrying.”

  Daniel grinned. “Now that’s asking the impossible and you know it. I always worry about my girls.” His voice softened and lowered so that only Mary could hear. “You’re my heart, Mary Faith. If you hurt, then so do I.”

  Mary’s eyes welled with tears. Impulsively, she lifted his hand to her lips and kissed the palm before cupping it to her cheeks.

  Daniel groaned softly, then glanced in the rearview mirror before winking at Mary.

  “Your timing could be better here. I want to ravish you madly and we’re in the middle of a busy intersection with way too much company.”

  The heat in his eyes made Mary’s toes curl. Suddenly, she remembered the feel of Daniel’s kisses and the pounding thrust of his body between her legs. She bit her lower lip and then looked away.

  Crazy. That’s what she was. Stark, raving mad.

  “Mommy, are you sick?”

  The quaver in Hope’s voice was enough to get Mary’s attention. She turned around quickly, making sure the child could see her smile.

  “No, darling, I’m all right. I think I just got a little too hot, okay?”

  Hope nodded, but her big eyes were still dark with worry.

  Daniel glanced in the rearview mirror. Her panic was obvious and catching. He knew just how she felt. When Mary had gone limp in his arms, his heart had almost stopped. She was the center of their world. He winked at Hope in the mirror and then asked.

  “Are you still up for vanilla ice cream, honey, or are you going to try something different this time?”

  The change of subject was exactly what Hope needed.

  “I’m still having banilla,” she announced. “But when we get to the ice cream store, can I have my ice cream in a cone instead of a cup?”

  Hope’s innocent question shifted Mary’s focus into the everyday business of parenting so smoothly that she answered before she thought.

  “May I, not can I,” Mary said, as she turned to Hope, then somehow knew she’d said that very thing a dozen times before.

  Hope sighed. “Oh yeah…I forgot. May I have a cone?”

  Mary knew she was staring, but Hope’s expression was so like Daniel’s she couldn’t look away. Was this what Hope would have looked like if she had lived, or was this just a wider crack into insanity?

  “Mommy…may I?” Hope persisted.

  Mary blinked, as if coming out of a trance.

  “What? Oh…uh…yes, you can have the cone but we’ll have them put a little marshmallow in the tip of the cone like before, okay? Then when the ice cream starts to melt, it won’t leak.”

  “Yea!” Hope cried, and settled back in her seat as Daniel accelerated through the intersection.

  Mary felt herself nodding as she turned around, but her heart was hammering in her chest. With a near-silent moan, she leaned back against the seat and closed her eyes.

  Like before? Where in hell had that come from?

  Almost an hour later, they were on their way home. Hope was asleep in the back seat of the car and the taste of praline and pecan ice cream was still on Mary’s tongue as Daniel turned right.

  “Where are we going now?”

  Daniel frowned. “Home.”

  “But this isn’t the way to our house.”

  Daniel’s frown deepened. The confusion on her face was real. Once again, he knew he should have ignored her resistance to a checkup and taken her straight to the emergency room. Something wasn’t right.

  He pulled into the circle driveway and parked beneath the portico, then turned to face her.

  “Honey, we’ve lived in this house for almost three years.”

  Mary’s eyes widened as she stared at the brick two-story house and the tall white columns bracing the roof of the portico. Then she closed her eyes and took a deep breath before she was able to face him.

  “Isn’t that silly of me? For some reason I was thinking of our old house over on Lee Street.”

  Daniel leaned across the seat and felt her forehead, as if she might have a fever.

  “I still think you need to see a doctor.”

  Panic shifted, then receded. “And I think we need to get Hope in bed,” she said.

  Before Daniel could argue, Mary was out of the car and opening the door to the back seat. Gently, she unbuckled Hope from her booster seat and took her in her arms.

  “I’ll carry her,” Daniel said.

  “No, you get the door,” Mary said, certain there were no keys to this house in her purse.

  Daniel sighed, then shook his head and quickly did as she asked.

  The shaded rooms were cool, a welcome respite from the sweltering heat of afternoon. But Mary’s relief was short-lived when she realized she had no idea where her daughter’s room was supposed to be. She stared up at the circular staircase and wondered if she could bluff her way through, but the worry was taken out of her hands when Daniel took Hope from her arms.

  “You’re not carrying her up those stairs,” he muttered. “In fact, you need to take a nap, yourself. Come on, honey. I’ll unload the groceries and put them up. I want you to rest.”

  Mary followed Daniel up the stairs, not because she particularly wanted to sleep, but because she needed to see the layout of the house without making a complete fool of herself.

  As she watched him laying Hope on the bed in her room, she couldn’t help but wonder about this constant confusion. This was her dream. So why didn’t she just know this stuff?

  She backed out of Hope’s room into the hall and then turned around, staring blankly at the series of closed doors. As she stood, certain things began to emerge. The door directly across from Hope’s room was a bathroom, decorated in three shades of blue. She didn’t know how she knew it, but she was positive she was right. When she opened the door and peeked in, her heart skipped a beat. Just as she’d thought it would be.

  Quietly, she backed out and then walked a few feet down the hall to the first door on her left. This was the spare bedroom. She closed her eyes, picturing what was behind the door. Immediately, she focused on a pink and gold comforter on a four-poster bed. And she knew that, in the corner, there was a matching armoire she and Daniel had found on an excursion to Atlanta two years ago.

  Taking a deep breath, she looked in. It was there, just as she’d envisioned. When she closed the door she was smiling.

  Okay, I’ve been making this too hard. It’s still my dream. It can be any way I want it to be.

  Daniel was coming out of Hope’s room as she turned around.

  “Why aren’t you in bed?” he asked.

  “Because I was waiting for you to tuck me in, too.”

  Breath caught in the back of Daniel’s throat. The invitation in her voice was impossible to miss. He caught her up in his arms and carried her across the hall, toed the door open with his shoe and then kicked it shut behind him.

  Mary knew before she looked that there would be a king-size brass bed and that the room was decorated with the colors of autumn. When Daniel laid her down, she felt, before she saw, the handmade quilt on their bed. As the familiar softness cushioned her back, she kicked off her shoes and reached for Daniel. There was no way to know how long this fantasy would last, and she didn’t want to waste a moment.

  A hungry glint fired in Daniel’s eyes as he sprawled across her. Tunneling his fingers through her hair, a low moan rose from his throat as he centered his mouth upon her lips.

  In desperation, Mary clung to him. It had been so long. But before she could remove her clothes, Daniel drew back with a groan.

  “Oooh, baby, hold that thought. I’ve got to get the groceries in out of the heat.”

  He rolled
away from her and then got off the bed. Before she could think, he was out of the room and on his way down the stairs.

  Mary turned over on her belly and buried her face in the pillow in mute frustration, then moments later, sat up in bed.

  The furnishings in the room were almost opulent, but had a comfortable, lived-in look about them that almost seemed familiar. Her gaze fell on the closet and suddenly, she bounced off the bed and ran toward it. As her fingers curled around the doorknob, she caught herself holding her breath in nervous anticipation. Slowly, she pulled the door open then stepped inside and turned on the light.

  Daniel’s clothing was hanging on the right in a neat and orderly manner, from suits, to sport coats to casual slacks. Blue jeans were folded and stacked neatly on a built-in shelf as were an assortment of T-shirts. A row of shoes was on the floor beneath the clothing and a small rack of neckties hung from the back of the closet door. Just as she would have expected it to be.

  When she looked to the left, all the air went out of her lungs in one breath, as if she’d been punched in the stomach. An entire wardrobe of women’s dresses, blouses, skirts and slacks—and in her size—were hanging on the rack.

  Okay…so I’m dreaming in detail and color…and with sensation. So what? I’ve already accepted the fact that I’m losing my mind.

  She stepped out of the closet and then turned off the light. Immediately, her gaze moved to the door Daniel had left open. She walked into the hallway and then into the room where Hope was sleeping.

  For whatever reason and for however long this fantasy would last, she not only had Daniel back, but she had her daughter, too. The bond she’d had with the baby seemed nothing but a distant memory as she stared down at the six-year-old girl in disbelief. The longer she looked, the tighter the ache grew within her chest. Quietly, she tiptoed to the side of the bed, smiling at the one-eared bunny tucked beneath Hope’s chin, and pulled the covers back over the little girl’s shoulders. Then, reluctant to lose the connection, she lifted a stray lock of hair away from Hope’s face, then leaned down and brushed her forehead with a kiss and as she did, felt as if she’d done it countless times before. Her heart swelled as she watched the little girl’s eyelids fluttering in sleep.