Incredible Dreams

by Sandra Edwards

  She gave him a wink and drove her fingers back up to the side of his head. “I think you should pay Izzy a visit tonight at the Cool Cat.”

  “I think that’s a good idea,” he decided, shivering under her touch.

  “Bring flowers or candy.” She admired him as he rose off the park bench, favoring his long, lean physique. “She loves that sort of stuff.” Jeannie clasped her hands together.

  “Thanks for the tip,” he threw the words over his shoulder, but didn’t look her way as he strode off.

  Jeannie beamed at how easy her job of persuasion had been. George Hadley could possibly turn out to be the easiest mark she’d ever faced.

  Satan knows, Izzy wasn’t.

  But since when did Jeannie let a little thing like tenacity stop her? She’d come up against some pretty hard tasks in her day. There was no way some little ghost-whisperer and her hero—whose days were numbered—were going to get the best of her. They didn’t stand a prayer of a chance. Not in this lifetime, or any other.

  Strolling through the park helped Izzy subdue the strange inclinations that the visits to the shrink seemed to bring about. Something about the fresh air cleared the cobwebs in her head and discouraged the strange thoughts mulling around inside her mind.

  Izzy saw her sister sitting on the park bench, long before Jeannie saw her. Curiosity over what Jeannie was doing in the park, since she didn’t particularly like the outdoors, nudged Izzy in her direction.

  Izzy plopped onto the bench beside her. “What brings you out here in the middle of the day?”

  “Izzy.” Jeannie gasped, giving away her surprised demeanor.

  Humph. Izzy looked her over. “You’re up to something.”

  “Well, actually I had a lunch date, but he stood me up.” Her cavalier behavior suggested that she didn’t care.

  “Wow, he must be something for you to agree to lunch outdoors.” Izzy sighed with a shrug, still amazed that Jeannie had so willingly endured the Army picnic. She did seem to enjoy the carnival later that evening, though. And just like anyone else, Jeannie too had no trouble picking and choosing her poison.

  “Well, aren’t they all,” Jeannie said, her tone dripping in disappointment. “Some are more interesting than others.” Her devilish laughter echoed through the air.

  Izzy’s school-girl giggle corroborated her agreement.

  “George ain’t half bad.” Jeannie dared to glimpse at Izzy.

  “He’s kind of cute and all.” Izzy let the words fall off her tongue, a hint of reservation lingering in the back of her mind. “But I’m just not into him.” She wanted to say she only had eyes for Jack, but that was a bad idea. Instead, she came up with, “Besides, it’s about time that I start acting like a married woman.” Which she knew would turn out to be the hardest thing she’d ever done because she hadn’t a single memory of her so-called husband. To make matters worse, her heart had been accosted by another and there wasn’t a damned thing she could do about it. By now, she’d accepted the idea that she’d spend the rest of her life loving a man who was not her husband.

  “Act like a married woman...are you kidding me?” Jeannie blurted out. Izzy focused on her sister. She maneuvered around and scrutinized Izzy from the front. “Since when has that ever been a factor for you?”

  Jeannie’s shrilling voice pierced Izzy’s ego more than the pitch bothered her hearing. The implication was more than enough to drag her already bruised ego down another notch or two. “What exactly are you saying, sister dear?” She let her frustration shine through in her disappointment.

  “Look, since you have this memory-loss thing going on, I’m going to be open and candid with you.” She paused, as if contemplating the matter. “Izzy, I don’t mean to sound crass, but...you and Harry...you have what one might refer to as an open marriage.”

  “A what?” Izzy snapped.

  “Well, it’s mostly open on your part. I don’t recall Harry ever dallying elsewhere.” She paused, casting a tolerant eye on Izzy. Thankfully, her gaze wasn’t judgmental. Izzy didn’t need anyone judging her right now. She was doing enough of that herself. Jeannie must have seen the self-recrimination going on inside Izzy’s head, prompting her to say, “Well don’t beat yourself up about it. It’s not like Harry ever gave you an ultimatum or anything. He accepted your wandering eye when he married you. So go ahead and have your fun.”

  Izzy’s mouth dropped open. Well, that was rude. “I’ve got to go.” She clutched her purse in her hand and stood. Hearing such things about herself nearly brought tears to her eyes.

  I’m not that kind of girl. Izzy didn’t know how she knew that, but somehow, somewhere, deep down inside, she knew she was a one-man woman. Trouble was, the man she was devoted to wasn’t her husband. And, as if her situation wasn’t desolate enough, Izzy couldn’t dig up a single recollection of Harry in her broken memory.

  “Oh, well,” she whispered, marching away. “A girl’s entitled to change her mind, isn’t she?”

  Izzy trudged through a batch of trees. Her ankle ached from twisting it at the picnic the other day. Rather than keeping an eye out in front of her, Izzy watched the ground to avoid stepping in another hole. She slammed hard into a wall of arms and knew in an instant that she’d run into Jack—of all people.

  “Where’s the fire, Isabelle?” he asked, his hands lingering near her shoulders.

  She refused eye contact with him while she moved out of his reach, one arm at a time. “I’m in a hurry, that’s all.”

  “Ah-ha!” A hint of vindication escaped with his quick overture.

  She maneuvered around him and continued on her way. She didn’t have to look around to know he was on her trail.

  “Where you headed in such a hurry?” His question was followed by teasing laughter.

  “I’m late. That’s all.” Her response, short and to the point, faded into nothing and she quickened her pace.

  “Interesting.”

  “Look, Jack...I jumped to conclusions at the picnic.” She paused, hating to say the words. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.” Her dissolution escaped in her tone, but she didn’t care. It wasn’t much of an apology, but it was the best she had to offer.

  Jack latched onto her arm just above the elbow and dragged her to a nearby bench. “Look, I’ve spent every waking hour since we found out about your husband, going over every possible scenario and outcome.” He paused, growling. “It’s clear that you want to distance yourself from me. I get that. But, for the sake of what we could’ve had...can’t we at least try to act cordially to one another when we do happen to cross paths?”

  He seemed to be pleading with his words and tone now, and Izzy felt remorse over the thought of hurting him. As hard as that may be for her, he was right. Just because she couldn’t deal with the situation as it was, that was no reason to take it out on him. After all, it wasn’t his fault that she was married to another man.

  “I’m sorry. I really am.” She dared to glimpse at him. “You’re right. I’m acting like a school girl, and you deserve better.” Izzy rose from the bench and walked away.

  Knowing that Jack was following her, she quickened her pace. She was really starting to feel like Ilsa from Casablanca, knowing she was beholden to her husband, but still, trying her damnedest not to love another man. Why couldn’t Izzy be more like Johnny and Sarah from The Dead Zone? They’d managed to put their feelings aside out of respect for Walt.

  She slowed her pace and Jack did the same. After a couple of steps, Izzy’s nerves eased a bit. “If Johnny and Sarah can do it, so can we.” Determination swelled inside her. Izzy threw her shoulders back and walked a little taller.

  “Pardon me?” With a curious squint Jack studied her face, obviously surprise by her statement.

  “You know. The Dead Zone.” She quickened her step a beat or two. “Johnny wakes up from a four-year coma and his fiancé—I think she was his fiancé—is married to another man.”

  Jack let out an exasperated sigh. “
What?”

  “Well, it’s not exactly like us, but...we can follow their lead and put our feelings aside, out of respect for the sanctity of marriage.” While her words might sound convincing, Izzy knew they were a load of crap.

  Jack shook his head and a sudden chuckle escaped through tight lips. Izzy recognized the sarcasm in his demeanor.

  “You wouldn’t be laughing at me, now would you, Jack?” She tried to hide her pain with a stoic face but couldn’t tell if she’d pulled it off. Chances of success were fifty-fifty. Okay, maybe thirty-forty.

  “No, Isabelle, that’s the last thing I’m doing.” The truth of his words chilled the air. “I’ve accepted the fact that we can’t be anything but friends, see. But I also know that we can’t be friends either.”

  Izzy agreed, but that didn’t mean she had to like it. “True.” Reality tugged at her heartstrings. “I’m sorry, but it’s hard seeing you with another woman.” Embarrassment shaded crimson on her cheeks. “I know I’ve got to learn to deal with it. I just haven’t figured out how yet.”

  “Well, if you do...please let me know.” He slid his hands inside the pockets of his trousers and Izzy wished she had somewhere to hide her own.

  Guys are so lucky. He could go out and get himself laid to work if off, but that wasn’t an option for her. She’d be branded a tramp. Hell, Jeannie had already done that. Where was her husband when she needed him?

  For the first time, Izzy considered sex with someone other than Jack. She didn’t like the thought.

  “Fate is a cruel bitch, ain’t she?” Izzy remarked, almost laughing at the helplessness of their predicament.

  Jack stopped, and she hesitated but did the same. “I should go.” The words came from his mouth but his eyes lingered on her face, as if staring long enough would make it all fade away.

  “If it’s any consolation, I’d change it if I could.” As she said it, she wondered why she couldn’t do that.

  Of course. She knew the answer, she was just kidding herself. She couldn’t risk ruining Jack’s life, not even in the pursuit of happiness—could she?

  CHAPTER 18

  JACK REGRETTED leaving Isabelle in the park but he had no choice. She wasn’t available. He had to keep telling himself that. Even so, it didn’t do much to help him accept it. This was one reason he was determined to find her husband and bring him home. Maybe then Jack would be able to accept the inevitable and move on. If nothing else, Isabelle needed someone on her side she could trust. And who better than her husband?

  Jack sprinted up the few steps leading into Lincoln Annex, the building housing Central Processing for Parker Field. He eased through the corridor and slipped inside a door midways down the hall.

  The young man behind the desk smiled.

  “What do you have for me?” Jack didn’t wait for an invitation to sit in the empty chair at the corporal’s desk.

  “Not much, I’m afraid.” He avoided Jack by straightening the files on his desk.

  “Come on, Thompson.” Jack slammed a palm onto the desktop. “How hard can it be to find a guy named Harry Walker?”

  “Oh, that’s not the problem.” The corporal defended his abilities with a staunch expression. He looked overwhelmed. “There’s too many Harry Walkers in the Army. It’s going to take some time to identify the right one.”

  “You mean he’s not stationed here?” Jack’s curiosity piqued, awakening his suspicions.

  The corporal’s slow nod said it all. “Nor is he scheduled for this post anytime during this year.”

  Things were turning stranger by the minute. Hadn’t Jeannie insisted that she’d accompanied Isabelle to California to wait for the husband’s return?

  Looks like I need to have another chat with Isabelle’s sister, Jack decided. “Thanks, Thompson.” He rose from the chair, saluted the corporal and backed out of the office.

  Somehow, Jack had known he wouldn’t get far with Jeannie. He studied her as she leaned against the wall near the boarding house’s front door. Jack, on the other hand, draped his arms across the back of the porch swing and rocked on his heels, gently propelling the swing.

  “What do you want, Jack?” She stiffened, straightening herself with dignity.

  “I’m just a little curious about Isabelle’s husband, see. He’s not stationed here at Parker Field.”

  She rested her hands behind her back. “What’s your point?”

  “I’m just trying to figure out why you’d tell Isabelle that her husband’s stationed here, when he’s not.” He hoped his voice was as stern as he thought it sounded. Jeannie didn’t intimidate easily. He needed every advantage he could assemble.

  She pushed off from the wall and opened the door. “Not that it’s any of your business—” The time it took her to step toward the entryway seemed like an eternity. “But I didn’t say it...she did.” Jeannie disappeared inside and the screen door slammed shut.

  “So you say.” Jack remained in the swing, unaffected by her declaration. He wasn’t sure what was going on, or why Isabelle’s sister would lie, but he was beginning to doubt Jeannie’s integrity and her loyalty toward her sister.

  First, she said they moved to southern California to further Isabelle’s singing career. Then, it became about the mysterious, absent husband who was currently overseas but stationed here. How convenient. And a lie.

  Thompson’s revelation that there was no Harry Walker stationed at Parker Field made it official; Jeannie Miller was up to no good. What her intentions were or why, he didn’t know. But he intended to find out her motivating factor. He had to be sure she wasn’t out to hurt Isabelle.

  The quicker he found Walker and brought him home, the better it would be for Isabelle because Jack now realized Jeannie could not be trusted.

  Jack had initiated the process to bring the man home, but sticking around to watch Isabelle live the life of another man’s wife was not an option.

  There was only one thing left to do. He had to request reassignment.

  Leaving Hanson’s Jewelers on Main Street, Izzy covered her eyes with Jack’s sunglasses. How prosaic, she decided of the street name. Tired from walking the several blocks from the boarding house to the jewelers, she contemplated taking the city bus to the Cool Cat. Still at least six blocks away, she felt she’d never been that into exercise and didn’t relish the thought of more walking.

  Laziness got the best of her and she waltzed toward the bus stop. She smoothed her red polka-dot dress and sighed before sitting, reminding herself that it was a favorite of Jack’s.

  She glanced at her wristwatch, now ticking away like clockwork, and marveled at her own stupidity for having gone to the jewelers looking for a battery. Imagine having to wind the damned thing to make it tick—a concept that seemed totally foreign.

  A shadowy figure entered her peripheral vision and she glanced up, peeking over the rim of her shades. The young man smiled at her, a flyer she guessed by his aviator’s jacket, cap, and sunglasses.

  “May I?” He gestured toward the bench.

  She didn’t say anything, only shrugged and tilted her head, then motioned toward the empty seat beside her.

  “Do you know if this bus goes out to Caraway?” His casual and friendly manner was overshadowed by his sad blue eyes and their poignant faraway look.

  Unfamiliarity slowed her response into a syrupy nod. She pursed her lips and exhaled a blast of frustration. “Beats the hell out of me.”

  He chuckled. “That’s a rather odd expression.”

  “Yeah, well...” She paused, glimpsing down the deserted street. “I seem to do that a lot.” Loneliness swamped Izzy and she turned to face him. “Most people that know me have gotten used to it. Either that, or they’re just humoring me until the men in white coats come to take me away and have me Baker-Acted.”

  “Baker-Acted?” He repeated her words, confusion wrinkling his brow.

  “Just color me crazy.” She rolled her eyes. “Want to talk about the weather?” Her face spread wit
h a smile born from doubt. She poured it on thick, trying not to appear as crazy as she felt.

  A mysterious darkness clouded his eyes. “The weather was good that day. I thought it was going to be a routine patrol with nothing out of the ordinary happening.” He gazed off, staring past her. “If I’d known I was going to die that day...” His words were filled with regret and disillusion.

  That woke her up. “What?” Even while sitting, she felt her knees buckle.

  “Yes, I’m afraid it’s true.” He rested one hand atop the other and draped them over his knee.

  “Is this some kind of joke?” She jetted her eyebrows up, casting him in a suspicious light. “Did Jeannie put you up to this?” Uneasy and dangerous words poured forth. She didn’t like thinking her sister could do something so horrible. But out of everyone she knew, Jeannie was the one she trusted least.

  If somebody wasn’t playing a joke on Izzy, that meant something was seriously wrong with her. First, there was that guy at the hospital. He’d kept fading in and out. And she’d conveniently tried to forget about that, but now this. Izzy could only draw one conclusion—she was seeing dead people. Hm. That sounded like a movie she’d seen somewhere.

  “I do not joke when it comes to the particulars of my untimely demise.” His solemn, invading voice yanked her out of her thoughts.

  The need to prove him a liar forced her hand toward him. As she partly suspected, her fingers sliced through his body, which was beginning to fade. She wasn’t prepared for, or expecting, his translucent state. Her head dizzied, her heart started thumping double-time, and fear weakened her ability to think logically. “How is this possible?”

  “I have no idea.” He shook his head. “You’re the first living person I’ve been able to communicate with since it happened.”

  Izzy crinkled her brow and she studied him. She still wasn’t sure that she hadn’t been punked. But her inability to touch him blew that idea.