Dreaming of You and Me

by Kristy Tate

  “When he’s sober, Barry will probably agree with you.”

  “I hope so.”

  They walked silently through the tall grass. Sounds of the gala—music, laughter, tinkling glasses and silverware—hovered on the crisp night air. A million stars hung above them while a round moon cast a silvery light. Somewhere, her parents could see the same moon and stars, but their prolonged silence made Nora feel like they had disappeared into another world. One that didn’t include her.

  Irena led Nora up the porch steps of her farmhouse and pushed open the dark cranberry door. The sudden warmth made Nora’s skin tingle. The house smelled of lemon oil and freshly baked chocolate chip cookies. Probably the same ones that had been served at the carnival. Irena guided Nora to the sofa in the living room, and Nora sank on to it.

  After pulling a cream-colored afghan off one of the wingback chairs flanking the stone fireplace and dropping it on Nora’s lap, Irena said, “I’ll be right back with the phone.”

  Nora took a moment to glance around the room. Dozens of photographs of Cole, Irena, and the woman Nora recognized as Cole’s sister lined the fireplace mantle and hung on the walls. She longed to inspect them closer but didn’t want Irena to think her a snoop.

  “This is so nice of you,” Nora said when Irena returned with the phone.

  “It’s the least I can do,” Irena said. “I went ahead and started a kettle for hot chocolate. Does that sound good?”

  Nora sniffed and caught a whiff of warm milk coming from an open doorway. “That sounds heavenly.”

  Irena nodded and disappeared into the next room while Nora tried calling her parents from Irena’s phone.

  Nora listened to Irena humming and opening and closing cupboards and drawers in the kitchen. After a few minutes, she gave up on her parents and stared blankly out the window at the dark night, trying to imagine her father and Irena together.

  They didn’t fit.

  It was impossible to imagine her father with anyone but her mother. Maybe this was something she should be grateful for, but Nora couldn’t help wondering if it had been love, inertia, or finances that had preserved her parents’ long marriage. Probably a combination of all three—or at least the latter two.

  “Any luck?” Irena asked. She carried a tray with two steaming mugs, which she placed on the coffee table between them before settling down on the wingback chair.

  Nora shook her head. “They’re, hmm, hard to reach.”

  “Where are they?”

  “Sailing. My father had a life-long goal of sailing around the world.”

  “Just the two of them?”

  Nora nodded and wrapped her hands around the mug closest to her.

  “Goodness. That sounds lonely.”

  “They’ve always been very... They really don’t need anyone other than each other.” Nora’s voice broke and she tried to hide it by sipping the hot chocolate.

  “And if you had reached your parents tonight, what would you have said to them? Are you looking for a way out of your contract?”

  Nora looked up, surprised. “No! I love it here...the girls...you...Cole. It’s just, Barry.”

  “He won’t be back for the rest of the school year.”

  “Really?”

  Irena pressed her lips together and looked determined. “I need to speak to an attorney about his contract, but I don’t think it will be a problem since there’s a clause about an inability to perform.”

  “Barry may argue that he had never drank during school hours,” Nora said.

  “Jeopardizing our fundraiser,” Irena lifted her mug at Nora, “and much worse—attacking a coworker— are both cause for dismissal.” Irena took a long sip from her cocoa before placing it back on the tray. “My attorney happens to have a daughter at the school, so she’s here tonight. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll go and see if I can catch up with her.” She stood. “Please make yourself at home and stay as long as you’d like.”

  Nora waited until she heard the door softly close behind Irena before she got up to inspect the pictures on the wall. Her heart ached as she moved from one image of Cole’s family to the next. Every smiling image was like a dart to Nora’s fragile soul.

  Finally, she settled back on the sofa, nursed her cocoa, and tried her parents on the landline one last time.

  “NORA,” COLE’S VOICE rumbled in Nora’s dream. They were on a beach, a light breeze kicked up sand, a gentle tide licked the sandy shore, water glistened on Cole’s naked chest... “Nora, wake up.”

  Nora bolted up. There was Cole...completely clothed, although he had lost his bowtie. The memory of the night rushed in on her. She blushed, remembering her dream. It took a moment for her to realize that Cole had no knowledge of what had been in her mind. Still, as she gazed at him, she couldn’t help wondering what he looked like without his shirt. Cursing herself, she ran her fingers through her hair, licked her lips, and prayed that she hadn’t been drooling in her sleep.

  “Come on,” Cole said. “I can walk you home, or, if you’d rather, I can show you the guest room.”

  “Irena?” Nora asked groggily. She swung her feet to the floor and curled her toes into the thick carpet.... It wasn’t a sandy beach, but still nice. Where were her shoes? Was her dress askew? She checked to make sure her bra straps weren’t showing. Still modest. She breathed out a sigh of relief. No signs of drools. Still, her makeup was probably smudged, her hair frizzy with static electricity. She smoothed her hair away from her face and looked around for her shoes. She spotted them near Cole’s wing-tips.

  “She’s still on campus cleaning up,” Cole said, smiling down on her. “She asked me to check on you.”

  Nora’s feet complained when she slipped them back into her heels and stood with only a small wobble.

  Cole took her elbow. Heat radiated up her arm and spread throughout her body. She knew she should pull away, but she couldn’t. Instead, she leaned into him, and appreciated his warmth.

  “Which is it? Your house or the guest room?” Cole asked.

  The thought of being in a bedroom—just down the hall—with Cole choked Nora. “M-my house,” she stuttered, knowing that she’d made the right choice, but not the one that she most wanted.

  Cole wrapped his arm around her as they headed out the door and into the night. The party noises had mostly quieted, and somewhere an owl hooted. Cole apologized, again, for Barry’s behavior and talked about a rehab center in nearby Ventura. But Nora didn’t want to talk about Barry and she said so.

  “I’m sorry, he has issues, but I won’t be sorry he’s gone,” Nora said with a shudder.

  “He’ll probably be back next year, but...”

  He was asking if she would be back. That wasn’t her plan. She slid Cole a sideways glance. Cole had not been a part of her plan, either—at least, not like this. She shivered with frustration and longing.

  Cole, misinterpreting her, drew her closer. “If you’d like, we can give his cottage to another teacher. I don’t want to fire him, but we can let out his cottage to another member of the faculty.”

  “That would be nice,” Nora said, thinking, not as nice as splashing on a sandy beach with Cole, of course. She could think of few things that sounded as appealing.

  “Well, here we are,” Cole said, depositing her at her cottage door.

  How had the arrived so quickly? Nora longed to invite him in, but where would that lead? She mustered all her willpower, pulled away from him, said goodnight, and slipped inside.

  Sucking in a deep breath, she leaned against the door and willed her heart to slow. Without turning on the light, she took off her clothes as she headed for the bedroom. After dropping off her things on her bedroom’s slipper chair, she padded into the bathroom to brush her teeth and wash away her makeup.

  Minutes later, she stumbled to her bed, ready to fall back to sleep, and if she was lucky, return to her dreams of Cole.

  She yipped when she landed on someone warm in her bed. Scrambling back to her feet
, she switched on the light.

  “Sorry,” Darby mumbled, sitting up and pushing her curls off her face. “I guess I should have warned you. Do you mind?”

  “That you’re sharing my bed?” Nora laughed and sat down beside Darby. She put her hand to her heart to slow its beating. “No, I’m happy to not be alone.”

  Darby peered at her and noticed Nora’s red-rimmed eyes. “Oh, sweetie, what happened?”

  Nora sniffed. “It was Barry Sprog. Again. I know I shouldn’t get so worked up, but...”

  “Sweetie, it’s perfectly reasonable to get worked up!” Darby draped her arm over Nora’s shoulder and drew her close. “You can’t work and live here with him next door.”

  “I know. That’s what I told Cole. I just don’t feel safe.” She snuggled into Darby. “That’s just one of the reasons I’m glad you’re here.”

  “What did Cole say?”

  “That Barry needs help, blah, blah, blah. Can they find a new science teacher this late in the year, blah, blah, blah.”

  “Ah, so Mr. Perfect isn’t quite so perfect anymore?”

  “No, he is, but...I mean, I can see his hesitation, but I’m an adult and look how upset I am! What if he did something inappropriate with one of the girls?”

  Darby nodded. “He needs help.”

  “He shouldn’t be teaching if he can’t control his drinking.” Nora punched her pillow and flopped back onto it.

  “What happened?” Darby settled onto the pillow beside her.

  “He tried to kiss me. It wasn’t a big deal.”

  Darby kicked her. “Don’t say that! It is too a big deal!”

  “Yeah, I guess it is.” She shivered. “He’s creepy. I’m glad you’re here.”

  “Me, too.”

  Nora rolled onto her side so she could look into Darby’s face. “But why are you here?”

  “I was tired.”

  “Oh, and I’m keeping you awake.” Nora closed her eyes like she was going to go to sleep, but then asked, “Are you sure Chad doesn’t have anything to do with your staying?”

  “He absolutely does.”

  Nora’s eyes flew open. “So, were you able to talk to him? Did you get things worked out?”

  “We talked, but it was stilted and weird.”

  Nora scrunched her lips together but kept her eyes closed. “Maybe tomorrow will be better,” she said, thinking not only of Darby and Chad, but also of herself.

  “I hope so.”

  “MY SITUATION IS GETTING desperate,” Nora told Darby the next morning over breakfast.

  “Mine, too,” Darby said.

  Nora pointed her spoon at Darby. “You need to talk to Chad. Just go to his house!”

  “You’re probably right,” Darby said. She poked at the bran flakes swimming in her bowl of milk.

  “And I’m going to talk to Turner Lawson,” Nora said with resolve.

  “Who?”

  “He’s an old friend—or maybe just acquaintance? — of Irena’s. He was supposed to get my job; everyone thought it was his, but I guess he must have said or done something to make Irena change her mind.... Anyway, he said that he’s known her a long time, so maybe he can answer some of my questions.”

  Darby laughed. “And how are you going to ask those questions without sounding, you know, crazy?”

  “He used to teach at UCI, so he’s a pro, and well, I’m not. I’m going to ask him for pointers.”

  “And then see if you can steer the conversation to Irena’s illegitimate child?”

  Nora picked up a banana, peeled it, and cut it into slices. “If I want Cole to ever be more than my brother or my boss, —I need answers. And given my recent dreams, I need them now.”

  Darby’s eyes sparked with curiosity. “Dreams? Do tell.”

  “Okay, but you’ll get the G-rated G version.”

  “Pooh,” Darby said. “You’re no fun.”

  Nora pointed her spoon in Darby’s face. “In my dreams, I’m plenty fun!”

  THE SUNDAY MORNING brunch was the final event of Parents’ Weekend. By now, many of the parents had gone and the brunch was a casual buffet set up in the cafeteria. Nora hoped she’d be able to find Turner Lawson, but if not, she promised herself she’d ask the school secretary for his contact information.

  She slipped on a comfy knit dress, a matching cardigan, and a pair of untied sneakers, and headed out the door about the same time as Darby.

  “Good luck!” she said as she hugged her friend goodbye.

  “You, too,” Darby said, before climbing into her Camry.

  Nora swung by her classroom to pick up her lesson plan before heading for to the cafeteria. Her footsteps echoed in the silent Humanities Hall. She paused outside her classroom door, surprised by the emotion that nearly overwhelmed her. Who would have thought she would love teaching so much? It surprised her nearly every day. By nature, she was shy and reclusive, but after she’d overcome her initial hesitation in front of the class, she’d found that she loved introducing the girls to her favorite stories and discussing them in depth. It was like the English classes she’d took taken in college, but better because she got to pick the books and direct the conversations.

  “Hi, Ms. Tommy,” Marcy Lawson spoke said at her elbow.

  “Hi, Marcy!” Nora perked up. “I was just thinking about you!”

  “Really? Because if it’s about that assignment, I promise—”

  “No, it’s not that,” Nora cut her off. “I actually wanted to talk to your grandfather.”

  “What about?” Marcy’s lip curled.

  “Teaching. He’s a pro and I’m a novice.”

  “I wouldn’t call you a novice.”

  “I just started and that’s pretty much the definition of a novice.”

  “He’s already left. But you can call him.” Marcy must have read Nora’s disappointment, because she added, “He just lives in Ventura. I’m sure he’d be happy to meet with you.” Marcy whipped out her phone. “Here, let me text him.” Her fingers flew over her phone before Nora could stop here.

  “No...” Nora started to say that it wasn’t a big deal, but then she remembered her dreams and decided that her feelings for Cole were actually a very big deal.

  Marcy’s phone buzzed. “He said he’d like to talk.”

  “You mean he’d come here?” She hadn’t considered that.

  “He asks if Monday would work.”

  Nora thought back to the sparks she saw had seen flying between Irena and Turner and decided that Turner probably wanted to come to the school for more than just the chance to meet with her. He wanted to see Irena.

  MONDAY TURNED INTO the sort of day that begged for a cup of cocoa, a roaring fire in the fireplace, a good book, and a snuggly quilt. But instead of a cozy chair, Nora sat at her desk watching her students struggle over an exam. Crossing her ankles, she considered this life she’d chosen. She had the resources to go anywhere, do anything, and yet she’d willingly signed up to teach this class, to mentor these girls. Of course, the girls, at first, hadn’t been her motivation—but they should have been. She didn’t know that then, but she knew it now.

  Rain pinged off the windows and beyond the blurry and streaming glass, while the wind tossed the trees and scattered leaves. Nora tried to refocus on her lessons plans while her students fidgeted and scribbled on their papers. Her heart skipped as she considered the girls’ futures. Most would go on to college. A few would follow their parents into Hollywood’s clutches. They would each walk their own paths.

  Is this what it’s like to be a mother? Nora wondered. Her thoughts flitted back to her own mom—not Irena, —but her real mother. Nora glanced at her watch, noting the time. It had been nearly five months since she’d spoken to her mom. She had tried to contact her mom, but her mom hadn’t, as far as Nora knew, made any effort to reach her. Nora stood, turned her back on the class, and went to the window.

  A large dark Lexus splashed into the parking lot. It rolled into the closest empty spac
e and the windshield wipers shut off. Moments later, an umbrella popped open and Turner Lawson emerged. The bell rang, and many of the girls groaned.

  Nora faced the class. “Pencils down. Papers forward. We’ll grade them tomorrow.”

  “Did you finish?” one girl asked another.

  Several of the girls quietly cursed Steinbeck as they headed out the door. Nora collected the exams and flipped through them, curious about the answers. She looked up when Turner Lawson walked in. Nora paused. Although he was probably thirty years her senior, Turner was still a handsome man in a rugged strong-jawed way.

  “Thank you for coming,” Nora said. “This is so nice of you. I would have come to you, you know.”

  “Not necessary,” he said. “I’m always looking for an excuse to come to Canterbury.” He winked at her.

  “Come on in,” she said, motioning to the easy club chairs in her reading nook.

  He strode into the room and folded his long, lanky form into one of her chairs. He looked decidedly masculine in her feminine place. “This is charming,” he said, glancing around.

  “Thanks,” Nora said. “I hope the girls enjoy it. They seem to.”

  “In all my years of teaching, creating a place like this never once crossed my mind. Did you come up with the idea on your own?”

  “Honestly? This my grandmother’s furniture, and I didn’t want to put it in storage. The cottage the school provides is furnished, so—”— she waved at her reading nook— “here we are.”

  He smiled. “Tell me about your lesson plans.”

  She filled him in on her course studies and plans for the remainder of the school year.

  “It sounds like you have thought of everything. What do you want from me?”

  “Just pointers...” Nora tried to smile while her mind spun with all the questions she wanted to ask but didn’t know how. “Just...I’m curious. Why do you think I’m here?”

  “And not me?” he asked.

  “Yes,” Nora said, leaning forward and resting her elbows on her knees. When Turner didn’t answer right away, Nora continued, “I would like to think it’s because I was the better candidate, but I think we both know that’s not the case.”