Dream Escape

by Sal Conte

  “You have a lovely family, Mrs. Hathaway. I’m sure Claudia Burns will love them as much as you do. I’ll show myself out,” she said, turning to go.

  “Wait,” Emma called, feeling a burst of inspiration. “What are you doing for dinner tonight?”

  Chapter Four

  “And she has the loveliest singing voice. Like an angel.”

  Emma was going on about Shay: how she’d calmed Robbie and gotten him to eat a PB&J sandwich for his snack; how they marched around the living room singing Dinosaur Train, and Shay seemed to actually be enjoying it; how she’d found the stone that Claudia must have dropped in Dinah’s blankets. She could have choked on that thing.

  Peter was glad she was so enthused. He was beginning to wonder if she was being too choosy in her search for a nanny.

  “And she’s close to my age, so I have someone to talk to. And she calls me daahling, which is, darling.”

  “Sounds like you’re really sold on this one.”

  “I am,” Emma said, and Peter could tell she was realizing for the first time that the nanny search was over. It was a sobering moment. “I’m ready to start looking for a job. It may take a few months, if it happens at all. But she’ll be here helping with the kids, freeing my time.”

  “It’ll happen,” said Peter. “I hope she doesn’t mind burgers and dogs for dinner,” he added, changing the subject.

  “She doesn’t. She seemed delighted when I told her you’d be grilling tonight. Said she’d bring some potato salad.”

  “My grilling does delight, daahling,” Peter said, and chuckled.

  “She doesn’t mind that her room will be in the basement, either. I told her we’d fix it up real nice.”

  The doorbell rang.

  “It’s her!” Emma cried out, sounding like a school girl upon the arrival of her first date. She moved to Peter and kissed him gently on the lips. “Thank you for allowing this to happen,” she said softly.

  “I didn’t do anything.”

  She shot him a smile that said she knew otherwise, and dashed from the room.

  “I didn’t,” Peter repeated to the empty room. Emma’s going back to work was a good idea. He remembered how unhappy she’d been before Dinah was born. She needed something more in her life besides the children. This would be good for both of them.

  It was her unhappiness that had driven him to Dream Escapes. He didn’t know what was causing it at the time, didn’t know how to cope with it, and so he escaped. It was the wrong thing to do. He knew that now, but Dream Escapes had saved their marriage.

  With the arrival of baby Dinah, he no longer felt the need to escape. He wanted to fix things between him and Emma.

  Peter went to the fridge and began placing the burger patties he’d made the night before onto a tray. His secret was to add Worcestershire sauce—not that that was a secret. The sauce made them juicy and delicious.

  He opened a pack of hot dogs and threw them on the tray as well. The grill in the yard was already heating up. He figured they could be sitting down to dinner in half an hour, tops.

  He turned from the fridge, and she was standing in the doorway next to Emma. Kim.

  His head suddenly went woozy, as the room began to twirl. He stumbled forward, nearly dropping the tray on the floor.

  “Honey, are you all right? You look as though you’ve seen a ghost,” Emma cried out, rushing to his side, steadying him.

  “I’m fine,” he said, trying to regain his composure. “Just a little light-headed all of a sudden.”

  “Maybe you should sit down. You’ve had a long day at work. I can help with the grilling. I’ve been known to throw down on a grill or two,” Kim said.

  “Isn’t she wonderful. Peter, meet Shay.”

  “Hello, Sh…Shay,” Peter said, managing a weak smile.

  He didn’t want to look at her, yet he couldn’t tear his eyes away from her. She was gorgeous in light gray slacks, a fitted top with a dark sweater thrown over her shoulders. She was holding a tub of potato salad, and staring at him with her azure blue eyes.

  Her modern wardrobe was a far cry from the elegant dresses and gowns she wore in the dream, but it was her, all right. His thoughts drifted back to the sexy underwear she always wore beneath the elegant dresses, and he wondered.

  Peter needed to clear his head. He needed to think. He took in a deep breath. Kim’s being there wasn’t possible. This cannot be happening. People do not step out of dreams and into the real world, and yet there she was, all the way from Casablanca to standing in his kitchen.

  Emma said he looked as though he’d seen a ghost. She wasn’t far from the truth. Kim wasn’t a ghost. She was his dream girl.

  *

  Dinner was a strange affair.

  Kim was charming, not giving anything away. She’d look over at him every once in a while with a bemused smile.

  “Are you sure you’re all right?” she asked about a dozen times.

  What are you doing here? he wanted to reply. How did this happen? What are you up to?

  His first thought was that she was there to harm his family. But how could he tell Emma that a woman he’d conjured up in a dream was sitting at their backyard picnic table, having burgers, and salad, and mac and cheese with them, playing with his children. Saying this woman had stepped out of his dreams would make him sound like a certifiable Loony Toon.

  At times she seemed oblivious to him.

  She and Emma chatted away as if they were old school friends catching up. She played with Robbie, fed the baby. And just when he was beginning to think Okay, Pete, it’s just a coincidence that she looks like her. It’s not Kim, she’d shoot him a knowing smile, starting his wondering all over again.

  She’s messing with my head.

  He had to get her out of there, away from his home and his family. That, he knew for sure. Even if it wasn’t Kim (which he was certain it was) he couldn’t have someone around who reminded him so much of her.

  He’d been in love with her. Yes, she was a dream, but he’d been in love with her all the same. Perhaps he still was. And the sex? Wild and crazy. That was no dream. He’d lost a few pounds from their sexual workouts, real pounds not dream pounds. There was no way he could look at her in his home, playing with his children every day.

  “Where are you from?” he asked. And please don’t say—your dream, darling.

  “Seattle,” she replied. “I Love it up there, but after my parents both died in a car crash, I had to get away.”

  “I’m so sorry,” said Emma. “Of course you did.”

  “They were the perfect couple. Very much in love, even after so many years of being together. Their love was inspiring. It’s probably a good thing that they went at the same time. I don’t believe either of them could have survived without the other.”

  When she said those words, her gaze drifted to Peter. He cringed on the inside.

  “It’s a… lovely story,” he said, searching for words that didn’t sound like What the hell are you doing here? or Get away from my wife.

  “It lets you know that the kind of love in fairytales can really exist. Doesn’t it, darling?” she said, and peered deeply into his eyes.

  His gaze darted away from her, to his wife. Does she notice? Can she see the way she’s looking at me?

  Emma was smiling at her. Smiling. “When can you start?” she asked.

  Peter’s heart sank, a boulder plummeting into the ocean.

  *

  “You don’t like her.”

  “Huh? What? Who? Shay? Yeah… I like her.”

  Both the kids were down for the count. Kim had made sure of that, marching Robbie all over the backyard in search of dinosaur bones.

  “You haven’t said much since dinner.”

  “Honey, what do you want me to say?” Peter smiled over at his wife. It was a fake smile. “She’s perfect. It’s clear she’s won Robbie over.”

  Emma beamed. “And did you notice how she handled Dinah? She is perfect, isn’t
she?” Her smile faded for a second.

  “Com’ere,” Peter said, and took her into his arms. “I think she’s great. I just want you to be sure you’ve made the right call. You felt this way about a few of the others… at first.”

  “I have, but this is—”

  “Let’s just sleep on it. I wouldn’t be surprised if in the morning you call the agency again.” He kissed her gently on top of her head. “Sleep on it,” he repeated, and started for the bathroom.

  “I… don’t need to sleep on it, Peter. If you don’t want me to hire her, I won’t. But Shay is my choice.”

  He stopped walking. It was as if he was suddenly standing in quicksand. The sinking feeling was that real.

  Peter turned, and forced a smile. “Just be sure and check her references,” he said.

  “I will.”

  “Well then… looks like we’ve found our nanny.”

  Emma beamed.

  Chapter Five

  Their song was playing.

  Peter was seated at a table in the empty, darkened café, a scotch and water in front of him. His third. His dinner jacket was thrown on the chair beside him, his tie loosened.

  The door to the small room above the café was open, and phonograph music was drifting down to him.

  “Peter. Come to bed, darling.” Kim called. She was standing at the top of the stairs, in the doorway.

  He didn’t look up. He knew she was naked, knew if he looked upon her, he’d give in.

  “In a minute, Kim,” he called.

  “What’s the matter, darling?”

  “In a minute!” He’d never spoken to her harshly before, but he had some thinking to do, serious thinking. Perhaps managing a café in Casablanca during the war isn’t such a good idea, he mused. It’s dangerous. I could be shot, hung as a spy. The allies could drop a bomb on the city, killing us all.

  Peter took a swallow of his drink. It burned going down.

  He knew he was avoiding the real issue, the thing he needed to think about. Kim. He was in love with her. It started out as a fun fantasy, a fling, and had quickly spun into this. He was deeply, madly in love with her. This thing had gotten out of control, and he needed to reign it in.

  “Peter.”

  She was standing next to him. He hadn’t heard her come down. Her hand rested on his shoulder. He looked up into her azure blue eyes. They were filled with tears. He looked away.

  “What have I done?” she asked.

  “Nothing.”

  “Then why won’t you look at me?”

  He threw back the rest of his drink, and looked at her. God, she was beautiful, so beautiful. He could feel his heart melting, his control slipping away.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “You’ve done nothing.”

  Before he knew it, he was in her arms, and she in his.

  “Come to bed,” she whispered, her tears running down the side of his face.

  “Yes,” he replied, realizing he’d lost all self-control. He wiped the tears away.

  Clinging to one another, they started for the stairs.

  “I love you so. I’ll never let you go,” she whispered. “You do know that, don’t you?”

  “Yes,” he replied.

  *

  “Mr. Hathaway. Welcome back. I haven’t seen you in quite a while. Give us a few minutes and the technician will prepare your fantasy.”

  Peter had awaken from the dream at two a.m., and could not go back to sleep. What had disturbed him most about the dream was how easily he had given in to her. He shuddered to think of what would happen if she were living under his roof. His marriage, his world could come crumbling down around him.

  He’d made an excuse to Molly that he had to run an errand for Emma before coming to the office that morning. He came to Dream Escapes bright and early, waiting outside the three story office building until he saw the lights go on.

  “I’m not here for a fantasy today, Mr. Smith. I’d just like for you to clear a few things up for me.”

  Mr. Smith fixed him with an odd expression. “Surely, sir. Please step into my suite,” he said in a smug British tone that suggested he was annoyed.

  So what if he’s annoyed? I’m not going to let Dream Escapes ruin my life. I’m a lawyer. I’ll sue the pants off these people.

  He ushered Peter into the exquisitely appointed office. Peter sat on the maroon leather couch. Smith perched across from him on his mahogany desk.

  “Coffee? Tea?” he asked. “I’m afraid I can be frightfully ill tempered before I’ve had my morning tea.”

  “Nothing for me,” Peter said, wanting to get to his reason for being there.

  “All right, then, give me a sec.” Smith pushed the intercom and asked Darla to bring him tea with lemon. He faced Peter, again with the odd expression. Peter got the sense the man was hiding something.

  “I have a question about my fantasy,” Peter said, suddenly feeling the urge to hang back, and not ask the crazy question dangling from the tip of his tongue.

  “All right?”

  “The people we meet in our dreams, they’re just fabricated, right?”

  Smith’s expression turned more puzzled. “Yes, we create the avatar based on your preferences. But you know that?”

  “Someone who looks like Kim showed up at my house yesterday.” There, he said it… well, almost it, enough to get the ball rolling.

  Smith began to chuckle.

  “What’s so funny?” Smith’s attitude was starting to annoy him.

  “And you think this woman has stepped out of your dream,” he responded knowingly.

  “Yes! Exactly!”

  “Mr. Hathaway, Kim was created as per your own specifications. Perhaps you’d seen this woman before, admired her beauty, and subconsciously applied those qualities to Kim.”

  What Smith was saying made sense. It was far easier to believe than that the girl from his dreams had walked into his life, his real life. “But… I’ve never met her before.”

  “How can you be sure, sir? You see a beautiful girl as you go through your day, you admire her, and without realizing it—she sticks.”

  That made sense as well.

  “So… you’re saying this has happened before?”

  Smith chuckled again. “More often than you can imagine. They’re usually hookers. Rest assured, Mr. Hathaway, the girl from your dreams exists only in your dreams.”

  *

  Shay moved in that afternoon.

  Emma had promised to check her references, but things started moving so quickly she forgot.

  Out of the blue, that morning she’d gotten a call from someone who remembered her from her silicon-valley days. They had an opening for a bright programmer at a startup, and they wanted to know how proficient she was in Ionic.

  “Very,” she replied, without going into it. She had no idea what Ionic was.

  Her response was all the caller needed. The company was called Mobilsift. The search team would be in Southern California the following week. They set up a meet and greet with her on the spot.

  Emma signed off and grinned. Shay showing up on her doorstep one day earlier was a blessing. She needed to do some research on Ionic, and right away. Fortunately, she knew Shay was ready to move in.

  Emma spent the rest of the morning—when she wasn’t explaining to Robbie why dinosaurs aren’t around anymore, or playing with Dinah—fixing up the small basement room.

  She drove to Bed Bath & Beyond, and with the kids in tow, picked up some potpourri and towels for Shay’s bathroom, some throw pillows, and lovely duvet to dress up the bed, and a rack to hang her clothes on until they could find her a nice wardrobe. She was in and out in under an hour, before Robbie got bored, and Dinah woke up.

  She was still sprucing up when Shay arrived.

  “I’m sorry. I wanted it to be nice for you. I thought I had more time.”

  “It’s perfect. I have a few of my own things in the car. Once I add them, this will be just like home,” Shay replied.
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  They had a late lunch together. Robbie sat on Shay’s lap, sharing her tuna fish sandwich. He was so well behaved around her. Another point for Shay.

  “Is Peter okay?” Shay asked as they were sipping their tea. “Does he have high blood pressure or something?”

  “No. He’s just been working very hard on a case. He’s trying to save a man’s life who was put on death row for a marijuana charge.”

  “Really? That seems a bit extreme.”

  “It is. Prisons are filled with people serving mandatory minimum drug sentences. It’s a national disgrace. He was sentenced during the war on drugs. The judge had no choice but to convict him under the letter of the law at that time. But the law has changed, and Peter’s been working on something to get the judge to overturn his ruling.”

  “I see,” said Shay sipping her tea. “That would explain the dizzy spell. Sounds like he’s been under a lot of pressure lately?”

  “You have no idea.”

  “Then, it’s a good thing I showed up when I did, isn’t it, darling?” Shay said and smiled.

  “You have no idea,” Emma said again.

  Robbie fell asleep on the sofa.

  With both kids out cold, Emma helped Shay bring in her belongings. On the back seat of Shay’s convertible, was a very large framed photograph.

  “I’ll need a little help maneuvering this,” said Shay. It’s not heavy.”

  Emma helped her remove the black and white print from the back seat. It was a city landscape of an exotic place. Emma could tell the photo was taken during the thirties or forties.

  “What city is that?” she asked.

  “Casablanca. Have you ever been?”

  “No. Peter and I aren’t very worldly.”

  “Oh, really?”

  They hung the photo across from her bed. Shay had a small clutch of framed photographs she placed around the room. They were all scenes from a bygone era.

  “I see you’re a romantic,” Emma said, admiring the photos.

  “What is life without romance, darling?” was Shay’s reply.

  On another day, the response might have struck a chord with Emma, but on that day, Emma was too excited about the job prospect to think about romance.