by Megan Hart
“Dream symbols definitely have meaning. Not always what you’d think they’d have, but yeah. Anything you put into your dream has meaning.”
Kelly shot Tovah a look. “Are you gonna get all New Agey on me?”
Tovah shook her head. “No.”
“Good. Because if you told me I needed to light a candle before I went to bed or put weeds under my pillow or something, I would have to find someone else to get coffee with.”
Tovah shook her head again, slower this time. “Don’t worry.”
“But you know a lot about dreams, huh?” Kelly looked at Tovah closely.
Tovah hesitated. “Some. Not everything.”
Kelly nodded. “My grandma was big into dreams. She used to tell me she could do…whatchamacallit…where you know you’re dreaming?”
“Lucid dreaming?”
“Yeah. Lucid dreaming.”
The waiter interrupted their banter, his pen at the ready. “Ladies?”
Confronted with the lack of a vegetarian selection, Tovah chose fish and chips. She wasn’t picky about meat being kosher or using the same pots or pans to cook in, but eating meat and dairy together was a long-time habit she’d never gotten around to breaking. Kelly faltered in her quest for shepherd’s pie and ordered a club sandwich, instead.
“Lots of people can do that. What did your grandma say about it?” Tovah asked when the waiter had gone.
“Oh, just that what she liked best was flying. My grandma was in a wheelchair for most of the last fifteen years of her life,” said Kelly matter-of-factly. “She said only in dreams was she able to get out of the damn chair and dance the way she used to.”
Tovah knew how that felt. “Have you ever tried it? Lucid dreaming, I mean. Did she ever tell you how she did it?”
Just because Kelly’s grandma had been able to do it didn’t mean Kelly could. Then again, it didn’t mean she couldn’t.
“How do you think I get Justin Ross to bang me?” Kelly answered with a grin.
Tovah laughed again. “Good for you.”
“Don’t tell Frank. So long as he’s convinced I can’t control what’s going on, he can’t be mad at me. What about you? Can you do it?”
Tovah hesitated again but didn’t lie. “Yes.”
Kelly looked impressed. “Wow. What’s it like?”
Tovah thought about it for a second. “Did you ever see The Matrix?”
“Hell-o,” Kelly said. “A movie with Keanu Reeves in it? Of course.”
“It’s sort of like that. When you control your dreams, you control everything in them and around you. You can make anything happen.”
Kelly was silent for a moment, as if she were pondering that. “Huh.”
There was more to it than that. Lots of people could enter lucidity in their dreams, but even though they managed to manifest their desires in the dream world, they were still just…dreaming. How could she explain the differences to Kelly, who’d never done it? How could she explain that achieving lucidity was fluid and amorphous, that keeping it was a struggle few could master completely. Shaping, on the other hand…that was conscious and consistent. Tovah didn’t understand it herself, just that before waking from her accident she’d had dreams in which she’d known she was dreaming. But knowing how to shape the Ephemeros, how to manipulate and mold it to her whim…that was a much stronger talent.
“Haven’t you ever had a dream you knew was a dream?” Tovah attempted the explanation.
“Sure. Usually that’s when I tell Justin I can’t sleep with him because I’m married.”
“No.” Tovah laughed but shook her head. “I mean where you know it’s a dream and you manipulate it. Or manifest something you want or desire.”
Kelly thought. “Once or twice. But it was hard to hold on to it. Usually if I suddenly realize I’m dreaming I wake up right away. I’ve had nightmares—”
Tovah waited, but Kelly didn’t continue. “About what?”
A shadow passed over Kelly’s face. “I’ve had dreams about falling and I wake up just before I hit the ground. Or dreams I’m being chased, or that someone’s in my house. Usually I’ll wake up before something really bad happens. And I think I know I’m dreaming, but it’s still scary.”
“Everyone has bad dreams once in a while. But if you know you can control the output, you can get out of them.”
Kelly nodded, still frowning slightly. “Yes. But lately I’ve been having some real doozies. Frank, too. I told him it must be something in the water.”
Tovah looked up at that, and thought carefully about how to phrase her question. “What are the nightmares about, now?”
Kelly’s laugh sounded forced. “It’s stupid.”
“I bet it’s not.”
Kelly shrugged. It was rare to see her unsure of herself. “I dreamed the world fell apart.”
Tovah didn’t say anything to that and Kelly gave her no chance to. “Crazy, huh? I’m afraid to analyze it, you know? The world falling apart? What’s that say about my mental health?”
Before Tovah could answer, the waiter returned with two more drinks, though they hadn’t finished the first. “Compliments of the gentleman at the bar.”
Kelly gave Tovah a look.
“What?”
“Now see what you’ve been and gone and done,” Kelly scolded. “You made eye contact before, didn’t you!”
Before Tovah could answer, the two men from the bar showed up at their table.
“Hi,” said the man who’d earlier caught her eye. “Are you ladies alone?”
“No,” said Tovah as Kelly answered “yes,” at the same moment.
They battled with their gazes while the two men stood frozen, halfway into the table’s empty seats. Tovah, who was fine with long-distance yearning but had no intention of giving in to flirtation, tried to give Kelly a subtle glare.
Kelly wasn’t into subtle. “Have a seat, fellas.”
They did. Tovah scooted over to leave more legroom. The table was small for two and nearly impossible with four, no matter how many chairs claimed they wanted to belong. Kelly was already moving her napkin over and sampling the gifted drink. Tovah wasn’t so foolhardy.
“John.” The one Kelly had labeled metrosexual held out his hand. “This is my friend, Pete.”
“I’m Kelly. This is Tovah.” Kelly shook John’s hand, then Pete’s. Tovah did the same.
John turned out to be the conversationalist, Pete his trusty cohort who seemed to be playing wingman. Tovah wasn’t sure about Kelly’s role in this little quadrumvirate, but with Pete taking up her attention, that left John to hit on Tovah.
Hard.
He was smooth about it. Not subtle, by any means. But smooth. He knew just how much sincerity to use, just how close to sit. Or when to draw away. He knew when to talk and when to listen, and he didn’t seem taken aback when Tovah gave him one-or two-word answers only.
Using the excuse that females could only visit the restroom in pairs, Kelly pulled Tovah away from the men. In the ladies’ room she pulled out lipstick and bent forward over the sink to concentrate on lining her mouth while Tovah washed the greasy fish and chips from her fingers. Kelly gave Tovah a look in their shared reflection.
“So? You don’t like him? What?”
Tovah pulled out her compact from her purse and set about freshening her own makeup. “He’s cute.”
“Yeah, he is.” Kelly rubbed her teeth to clean them of any stray lipstick stains, blew into her hand to check her breath, and pulled out a package of mints. “Want one?”
“Is that a hint?” Tovah took the mints and crunched one.
“No. But it’s good to be prepared, huh?” Kelly laughed. “He sure is putting the moves on you.”
Tovah leaned against the sink. “What about his friend?”
Kelly laughed. “Married. I saw the ring. I slipped him a little comment about my husband and you should’ve seen the look on his face. Relief. Clearly he’s just along for the ride. Romeo on the other h
and…”
“Yeah, Romeo.” Tovah sighed, looking again at her reflection. “He sure is cute.”
“Very.”
“But a metrosexual,” she couldn’t help teasing.
Kelly rolled her eyes. “Hey, some chicks dig that. I mean…we could make up some excuses about having to leave or something. I thought maybe you liked him.”
Tovah shook her head, watching her hair fall around her shoulders. She’d never worn it this long when she was with Kevin. Nor worn this much makeup. Though it was only a deeper tone of lipstick and a touch more eyeliner, the differences in her appearance still reminded her she was a single woman.
“Sort of like tossing out chum,” she said aloud.
“Huh?” Kelly put away her lipstick and the mints and turned to look at Tovah.
“I’m not so sure what I think about a guy who picks up women in bars, that’s all.” Tovah shrugged. “I mean, yes, he’s cute and he seems nice, but I can’t help but wonder at his motivation.”
Kelly frowned. “Yeah. But does that mean you can’t have fun with him tonight? Nobody says you have to go home with him.”
Tovah smiled at that. She and Kelly had talked a lot about sex, mostly as it related to Justin Ross or a few other celebrities. Fantasy talk. She hadn’t ever told Kelly about the nights she went searching for strangers in her dreams. Why would she? Besides, what she did in the Ephemeros was far different than what she did in real life.
“You’re right. Unless I want to,” she added.
Kelly grinned. “Ooh, c’mon, now. You’re going to make me jealous. He’s no Justin Ross, but he’s cute.”
“Of course not,” Tovah agreed. “Let’s go see if they’re still waiting or if they’ve hied off in search of greener pastures.”
Her admirer hadn’t abandoned her. Pete had lit a cigarette and was chatting on his cell phone, a call he quickly disconnected when she and Kelly returned to the table. John smiled and stood to pull out her chair for her.
“We weren’t sure you were coming back.” He smoothed his tie flat in a practiced, unconscious gesture as he sat. His smile teased one from her mouth. “So, where to from here?”
Tovah ducked her head to hide a smile at the faint look of panic and then resignation on Pete’s face. “Who says we have to go anywhere?”
John’s look of disappointment was brief, and he didn’t pout. “Good point. It’s nice just sitting here, talking to you.”
Not that she’d said anything of much consequence. Tovah didn’t hide her smile, this time. He smiled back. The conversation went on. As the hour grew late, Pete’s cell phone rang again. This time when he disconnected the call, he gave John a sort of desperate look.
“Man, I gotta go.”
“I have to get going, too,” Kelly added serenely.
They stood at the same time. After a moment, so did John. He shook Kelly’s hand again.
“Nice meeting you,” he told her.
“Thanks for the drink,” she answered with a cheery grin. “C’mon, Pete, walk me out to my car so I don’t get mugged.”
Pete looked scared again. Kelly sighed. “I promise to keep my hands to myself.”
John waited until they’d gone before he said, “Pete’s married.”
“So is Kelly.”
He looked a little surprised, but like his disappointment, that seemed to pass quickly, too. He waited a beat, one perfect hesitation, not too long or too short. “Are you?”
“No. Well, separated. You?”
“Not married,” he said with a firm shake of his head. “I mean, I wouldn’t be here talking to you all night if I were married, Tovah.”
“Good to know.” She’d already checked his finger for a ring and seen none, but that meant nothing. “I wouldn’t want to be here talking to you if you were.”
A slow grin spread across John’s face. Tension crackled between them. When the waiter came to ask if they wanted anything else, John looked to her for an answer. Tovah shook her head.
“It’s late. I’ve got to work in the morning.”
That was how he ended up walking her to her car. Clouds had covered the moon and stars, and the harsh blue-white light from the street lamps washed out John’s complexion. The night was too chilly to linger in conversation. John, apparently, had an idea of how to keep them warm.
His attempt at kissing her didn’t take her by surprise. What did was how she turned her face so his mouth landed on her cheek instead of her lips. Every detail moved her. The warmth of his lips and scent of mints on his breath, the squeeze of his hands on her hips as he pulled her closer. Even the chill of the car door behind her added to the scene.
John pulled away slightly to look into her eyes. “Sorry?”
She didn’t think she’d said anything. “For what?”
“Kissing you?” he asked. “Did you not want me to?”
Tovah laughed, self-conscious. From the sidewalk came a burst of raucous laughter as a group of men and women walking to their cars passed. Someone wolf-whistled. John, grinning, turned to look over his shoulder before he looked back at her.
“Kids,” he said, though he didn’t seem that old, himself.
“It’s cold. And late. I need to go,” Tovah said.
Her body tingled in the places he touched her. But when he bent to put his mouth on hers again, Tovah again turned her face. His lips brushed her cheek, and he pulled away.
“No?”
“I’ve got to go,” she said around a laugh, pushing at his chest a little. “It’s been nice, John, really. But it’s late.”
“I make great pancakes.” His voice dipped low. Sexy. He moved closer to nuzzle at her ear.
Oh, boy.
Arousal tip-toed over her skin, tightening her nipples. Her panties felt a size too small, suddenly. It would be so easy…
And so difficult.
“I can’t,” she whispered. “Believe me, I wish I could.”
This time, his disappointment wasn’t so easily pushed aside. It sat on his mouth and forced it to frown. He didn’t move back, not at first, and for a scary moment Tovah wondered if she’d severely misjudged him.
Then it passed. He smiled, though without the earlier sincerity. He took one step back, then another. He put his hands in his coat pockets.
“Thanks for the drink. And everything.” She didn’t like the all-of-a-sudden too-eager tone in her voice and stopped herself from saying more.
“Sure. Nice meeting you. You okay here? You’ve got your keys and everything?”
She showed him. “Yes. Thanks again.”
John nodded. “Good night.”
He didn’t ask for her number. Didn’t ask if he could see her again. Tovah watched him go, a sick feeling like an unexpected punch settling into her stomach. It was like she didn’t know what he wanted, but to have it so blatantly proven was more than an insult. It made her feel like a fool.
Worst of all, her reasons for turning him down had nothing to do with morals, or her hopes that playing hard to get would hold his interest better than going to bed with him at once. No. She had no problem with sex for the sake of sex…at least, she didn’t used to.
No. She’d turned him down because she was afraid of that moment when the lights go off and the clothes fall away, when she could no longer hide what shouldn’t have to be a secret.
And what had happened? She’d been rejected anyway, no matter how subtly, and she couldn’t even blame it on prejudice about her disability. It was a rejection, entirely, of her.
She didn’t bother to watch him turn the corner, just got in her car and fired the engine. The ride home took less than ten minutes. The mail scattered on the floor when she opened the front door. Her foot caught a sales flyer and she slid hard enough to catch herself on the side table. Muttering a curse, she bent to gather it.
The envelope marked with the return address of a familiar legal firm caught her eye as she hit the button on the answering machine. She slit open the envelope and pulled ou
t the thick sheaf of papers just as Kevin’s voice emerged from the speakers.
“Tov, it’s me. I really need those papers signed.” A feminine voice burbled something she didn’t understand in the background. “Yeah. Anyway, if you could get them signed and sent back ASAP, I’d appreciate it. Bye.”
He’d actually said ASAP like it was a word. Tovah checked the date on the top letter. Two weeks ago. She flipped the envelope. Two days ago.
“Prick.” Saying the word aloud made her feel better. “Did you tell her you didn’t mail the fucking papers and I only just got them? No. I bet you told her I was holding on to them to be a bitch. Well, guess what, asshole, you can wait another two weeks before I sign these.”
She tossed them onto her kitchen table and looked up as Max came out of the kitchen. “Hey, buddy. What’s up? Did you miss me, at least?”
Max sat on his haunches, grinning.
“Yeah,” she told him. “I know. I’m out late. I’ve been drinking and canoodling. Are you going to ground me?”
No discernable judgment from Max, whose tail thumped the hardwood floor in a regular beat. Tovah sighed and scrubbed at his head with her fist. His fur, soft on her knuckles, made her think of the way John’s hair had touched her there not so long ago.
She sat suddenly in the worn leather chair just inside the living room doorway. Max whined and laid his head on her knee. Tovah closed her eyes against unwelcome tears.
“You know what he wants me to sign?” she asked him. “You want to know what those papers are? A share of my insurance claim, Max. Yes, that’s right. He drove the car that crashed into the truck that crushed my leg. Welcome to the fucking house that Jack built. And now he wants a piece of the settlement.”
Max licked her hand. Tovah sniffled, hand pressed to her eyes. “He left me, and he still wants a piece of my money. Never mind that he makes almost twice what I make. Or that he doesn’t want to take responsibility for any of the medical bills, Max. Because I haven’t forced him to. Because I’m too damned nice, that’s what! That’s what!”
It was no good yelling at the dog, who couldn’t complain about being so abused. It wasn’t Max’s fault Kevin had turned out to be a heartless bastard. Or maybe just a bastard, which was worse. That he kept on finding ways to gouge her when he knew how much he was hurting her, and did it anyway.