by Liz K. Lorde
“This is no dream,” I tell her, “even if it’s starting to feel like one.”
“Like a good dream?”
That’s a good question.
For so many people, dreams are usually good, or neutral, or weird, or maybe a little off. For most people, when a dream becomes really bad, it stops being a dream—and it becomes a nightmare.
For me, at least these days, there are no such thing as nightmares because every dream goes well into deep abyss of abject fear and sadness. They’re just dreams now, and I dream more than I care to think about.
But now, for the first time in a long, long time, for the first time in what seems like an entire lifetime or more—I’m remembering that not all dreams are nightmares.
For the first time since my old life, I’m truly remembering what a good dream is like, even though this is no dream.
She’s really here, and so am I.
“No,” I say to Evelyn as we both stop just before walking through the door.
Evelyn pulls away from me slightly, standing back up on her feet and looking at me with vaguely questioning eyes.
“No?” she asks. “This is not a good dream?”
“No, it’s not.”
“But…why isn’t it?”
“Because dreams are never this good.”
I can see the question in her eyes now answered by just a hint of tears, which she soon blinks away with a smile.
“Okay, you’re right,” she says. “But I think it’s soon past time for me to drift back into my dreams for real for a while—at least until morning.”
“Let’s go get you back to dreamland for a while, then.”
Evelyn leans towards me and let gravity do its job of letting her fall back into me, so I can support her wonderful weight.
“You can go back into dreamland before we even get to the bedroom, if you’d like,” I clarify.
Evelyn’s head slowly comes to rest on my chest, and we just stay there for a quiet, heavenly moment.
“That might just happen,” she mutters, already starting to fall asleep.
I lift Evelyn’s legs with one arms, supporting her back with my other arm, open the door, and carry her into the house, watching her fatigued eyes look at the ceiling in some deep reverie.
Without really thinking, I let her down onto the couch and kneel down beside her.
“Not quite going off into dreamland, yet?” I ask.
“Not quite. You should join me, first.”
I lie down on the couch next to Evelyn. There’s the perfect amount of space for both of us—just enough for us to stay very close together as sleep starts to take us.
Just enough so I can hear her heart beating, slowly and steadily, as she smiles and her eyes start to close.
Before I can even think about allowing my own eyes to shut, I pull down a blanket resting neatly on the back of the couch and carefully unfold it as I lie.
As I start wrapping Evelyn in the blanket, I study her face for a moment. Considering the night we’ve had, I’ve never seen anyone’s face look as peaceful and content as they slept. Even her smile is still there.
I get up from the couch, so I can make sure the blanket is wrapped snugly and securely around the beautifully sleeping Evelyn.
Once I’m satisfied that she’s comfortably ensconced in the blanket for the rest of her night’s sleep, I lie down again beside her.
Seemingly without waking back up, Evelyn lies her head back on my chest. Her smile stays fixed on her slumbering face as she breathes slowly and contentedly.
Illuminated only by the ambient moonlight coming through the windows, Evelyn’s face might be the most breathtaking sight I’ve ever seen.
As I fall back into a peaceful sleep, I’m sure I have a smile on my face, as well. And I don’t have any dreams.
At least, I think I don’t, since, for the first time in a long time, I don’t wake up drenched in sweat.
Chapter 26
Evelyn
The engine purrs as it slides out of the driveway. Shawn’s hands grip the steering wheel, as he turns the car slightly before we go off down the road. His brow furrows as if he is deep in thought. I can’t help but remember that it’s this fierce concentration that made me love him in the first place.
His thick facial hair has been trimmed slightly, revealing the shape of his jaw. Shawn will never remove his beard, it’s as much a part of his identity as his name.
It’s funny how the subtlest parts of someone’s features can become the very thing that we grow to love about that person. I reach my hand out, allowing my fingers to graze his cheek. Shawn’s lip quivers slightly, curving into a half-smile.
It’s the same expression Tanner wears, when he’s gotten up to mischief. There is no doubt that he is the spitting image of his father. Tonight, Tanner is at the baby sitter’s, who will most likely let him eat all the junk he wants and stay up late.
“Every kid’s dream.” I think, with a smile.
At that moment, I feel my phone vibrate in my lap. I look down, realizing that I’ve just gotten a text. Even without opening my phone, I know it could only be from one person - James.
I click to open the home screen and scroll down to my messages.
See you there…James
The message is short and to the point.
“Is that James?” Shawn asks, mirroring my thoughts.
“Yes,” I reply.
“Probably wants to confirm that we are actually going to show up,” Shawn says.
“Something like that,” I reply.
We’re on our way to meet him for dinner. After James virtually disappeared from the face of the earth, he texted me last night, with what seemed to be a heartfelt apology and an invitation for Shawn and me to meet him for dinner.
The whole idea of being in the room with both James and Shawn seems a bit unsettling and I’m not sure what to make of it. After all, he and Shawn did try to kill each other last time.
“You think he’s gotten over it?” I ask.
“I don’t know. You might have been his conquest, but I’ve been friends with the guy for years. He’s hurt. He might forgive, but I wonder if he’ll forget.” Shawn says.
“One of the many reasons why this dinner feels like a bad idea,” I reply.
“I have my reservations, though I think we need to give him a chance.” His voice trails off.
“But?” I question, pressing him to continue.
“But then I don’t really remember what he’s like. All I’ve got to go on is what you’ve told me. And there’s no denying he was there for you during my absence.”
He’s right. James had supported me while Shawn was missing in action.
I will never love anyone the way I love Shawn, but that doesn’t change the fact I don’t like letting people down, which, part of me feels like I’ve done to James.
“I guess I’m still confused,” I say, at last, giving voice to the barrage of thoughts that are circulating in my head.
“That’s perfectly normal, babe. It’s a lot to take in. Finding out your husband who’s presumed dead’s still alive. Trouble is he can’t recall most of his life anymore. Breaking off a wedding you planned. It’s a lot. It’s more than most people have to deal with in their entire lifetime.”
I smile.
We come to a traffic light and Shawn reaches out to stroke my hand. His hand is firm yet warm. I feel the restless beating of my heart steady into a calm lull. Shawn has always had this effect on me. No matter what I am going through, his touch has the ability to take away every bit of anxiety from me.
I will admit that after the night he attacked me in his sleep, I felt a tiny bit on edge with him. It’s not easy to have someone that you love, threaten you. But I also knew deep down that Shawn’s actions were unintentional. There was no way he wanted to hurt me.
And since that night, things have been getting better and better.
Even the scars on his skin have begun to heal. Okay so I maybe
imagining this, but they seem to be fading.
“Have you noticed how your scars are fading?” I say, to change the subject.
I watch Shawn’s jaw tighten. He doesn’t want to talk about this, but if we don’t, then I can’t help him.
“I’m still damaged.” He replies finally.
“What do you mean? You’re starting to look more like yourself. Not to mention your nightmares are decreasing, too.” I say.
“I’m not talking about those scars,” he says.
I don’t know what to say in response.
“Everyone talks about the physical damage the war can have on a person. Loss of blood…damaged limbs…death…These are the things that we fear the most, but even if my body heals, there is a part of me that will never lose the memory of what I experienced.”
“I know,” I say.
He shakes his head.
“You think you know, but you don’t.”
“Help me to understand,” I prompt. Since his return, I’ve looked into PTSD. The biggest thing that can help seems to be talking about it.
“The dreams,” he starts.
“You’ve been having less of them.” I finish.
“It’s true, they’re not as frequent, but they still come every now and again,” he says.
“What do you see?” I ask.
Again, this is what I’ve read. Get them to talk about their dreams and fears, without judging.
Shawn takes a deep breath. His hands tremble slightly as if even now he is seeing the image directly in front of him. There are moments when he will go blank and I will not be able to reach him, try as I might. Still, I do my best to bring him back to me.
“Shawn?” I say, touching his arm. I watch his muscles relax. He looks at me as if just remembering that I am with him.
“We’re fighting in this old building. It’s fucking awful. For days we’ve been stuck in the heat. Bullets are whizzing past. There’s an almighty explosion. The ground shakes beneath and bricks tumble down around us.”
There’s a moment of silence as he collects himself. His knuckles are white as his hands grip the steering wheel ever so tightly.
“Anyway,” he continues. “I don’t know what’s happened to the rest of the team, or James. What I do know is I’m trapped. Before I can free myself, a face appears. It’s familiar, and yet, I can’t quite see who it is. Before I get a closer look, something hard hits me in the side of the face and the world goes black.”
I say nothing and wait.
“It’s so fucking frustrating not knowing who it is that hit me over the head.”
He goes silent again and I feel him retreat to a place I still can’t follow.
The truth sits between us like a bridge and for the first time, I recognize how easy it is to be so close to someone, and yet remain a million miles apart.
I lean over to kiss his cheek.
“We’ll get there, together. One step at a time.”
Shawn glances at me.
“I have to be the luckiest man alive,” he murmurs and takes his hand off the steering wheel to stroke my cheek.
“And don’t you forget it.” I reach over to rest my hand on his thigh. “But first thing’s first. Let’s get this dinner with James out of the way.”
Chapter 27
Shawn
As we walk into the restaurant, the vibe is upbeat but quiet. All around there are contented murmurs and occasional bouts of laughter erupting. There is the constant hum of conversation that hangs on the air when everyone is comfortable and happy.
It never ceases to amaze me—how dull and yet glittering our world is. These people…these people have no idea how it feels to bleed in the dirt. To beg your buddy not to die. To scream for help, but nothing comes.
At times like this, I don’t know which one the real world is. Both can’t be real. How can that dark sharp place exist on the same planet as these carefree, bright people? The only thing they’re worried about is if the chef nailed that new sauce.
I tell myself to get a fucking grip. When I was over there, all I wanted, actually I can’t fucking recall what I wanted. But now I am home, I should stop being a goddamn wuss and get on with it.
Do you want to become one of those guys who sleeps on the floor and jumps when cars backfire? The guy who can’t let the violence go?
No. Not gonna happen. I’m going to show Tanner how to be a real man in this world. That it takes a real man to survive without fighting.
Evelyn weaves through tables ahead of me, looking amazing in a clinging dress of soft, shiny fabric. She has this light smile that she hands out to anyone who looks up at her—a few do.
She’s not just pretty. She has a light. A definite radiance—and people just respond to her.
I feel my troubles slip away as I admire her easy expression. If only they could slip further away, so far they can’t just float back to me and come up at the worst possible time. Always just below the surface.
James is already at the table and he stands up, grabbing my hand as we approach. We clasp hands and lean in, slapping each other on the shoulder. I can’t tell you how close brothers in war were, because I can’t fucking recall, but I feel a bond. And, of course, I’ve been told we were best friends.
As we pull back, James grips my hand once more, smiling. We mouth the usual platitudes that mean nothing; our voices joining the meaningless murmur in the room. I help Evelyn into her seat then sit down across from James.
A waiter leaves some menus and water and hurries away again. Evelyn immediately picks up her menu, but James and I just look at each other. We know we aren’t here for a dining experience. Something has to be said.
We love the same woman. I can’t blame him. I can’t even be angry. I’m a bit sad over it—conflicted, sure. There’s absolutely nothing I can do for the poor guy.
Evelyn realizes no one else is looking at the menu, and puts hers down. She watches us for a moment, sensing that there’s more in our shared stare than words can say.
“Everything okay, boys?” Evelyn tries to keep it light, but I can see the tension rising in her. I can’t imagine how difficult this must be. I know, she’s a kind, good hearted person and doesn’t want to hurt James. She doesn’t want to hurt anyone. None of us asked for this.
“How’s Tanner?” James turns to focus on Evelyn, “Did he ever finish that elephant puzzle?”
Evelyn lights up, her face going soft with love as she thinks of our son.
“Yes, he did.”
James looks down, swallowing hard. “I’m sorry I didn’t see it. I miss him.”
My chest twists. I’m not just thinking of how awkward this is now, or how hard it must be for James. I admit to just a little jealousy. James has been watching my kid grow up. I can’t help but feel slightly territorial.
Evelyn smiles, reaching across the table to squeeze James’ hand.
“You,” she starts and stops. James is holding up his right hand.
His eyes dart between us.
“Yeah. Look. I’m here to tell you,” he stops and sighs. “I asked you here to tell you something.”
“What?” Evelyn sounds worried.
“It’s not serious.” He smiles, including both of us in his easy expression.
“I don’t want this to be harder than it already is. I wanted to tell you, I’m just going to get out of your way. That’s the best thing. You guys need to be a family, get used to being together. It’s a miracle, really. Completely unexpected. There’s no way this should have happened.” He shakes his head just a little, gaze slipping off to a distance.
“Never should have happened,” he whispers to himself, rubbing his chin.
“James, is everything okay?” Evelyn reaches out for his hand again, but James takes them back, shaking his head. I can tell by her face that it hurts her.
“I mean it, James. We don’t want to cut you out of our lives.”
He shakes his head, “I’ve made up my mind, Evelyn, honey.” He looks
into her face, smiling. “You need to be with the man you love.”
I can see her lip trembling, just a bit. What does she want to say?
“That’s a hell of a thing to do, buddy. Are you sure you’re okay with this?” I watch James’ face closely as I speak, wanting to understand how he feels. When he looks back at me, he looks sad, but determined.
Jesus. He looks like he’s about to go on a bomber run. A man before a firing squad. This is just fucked-up—every last moment of it.
“Shawn, I mean it. I’m not just doing this to get out of your way. I’m not doing it so Evelyn and Tanner can get used to being with you, or anything like that. Well, partly for those reasons. Mostly, I’m doing this for me.”
He sighs, leaning back in his chair to stretch and run his fingers through his hair.
“I need to get away. For myself. I need to figure out what I’m going to do. I don’t want you guys to worry about me. I’ll figure things out. I just need time, and so do you. The best possible thing I can do here is step away.”
Evelyn has control of herself, looking calm. She nods—her eyes are shining with tears that won’t fall.
I’m trying to think of something positive to say but I can’t find anything. Fuck it, I’m not a sympathy card. There is no possible way to make this right.
James leans forward, looking far more composed and determined. He raps the table lightly with his fist.
“Also, I want to talk about the wedding. You know it’s all paid for. There’s a significant amount of money sunk into it.”
Evelyn looks more concerned and worried now, wiping at her nose briefly. I’m feeling cold in my stomach.
Can you get a refund on this type of thing? Does he want me to pay him back?
James looks up, first to me, then to Evelyn.
“I want you guys to have it. I mean it. I think you should get married. It’s all organized and paid for, you should kick off your new lives with it. You could use it, like to renew your vows. I’m sure such a minor change can be arranged.”
I can’t speak. The room roars around me as I stare at my friend, heart swelling with gratitude. I expected a few things, but I certainly didn’t expect this.