I'll See You In My Dreams (Hell Yeah!)

by Sable Hunter

  “What do you mean?”

  “Mother said she saw her running out of the building crying.”

  “Crying? Why didn’t she go after her?”

  Both were silent.

  “Nevermind.” Zane was miserable, he wanted to get up. “I have got to go find her.”

  “I don’t think so,” Kane said. “Willow said if you tear those stitches in your eyes that all this will have been in vain.”

  “FUCK!” Zane yelled at the top of his lungs. Being blind was preferable to this! “What happened, Kane? Why did she leave?”

  “Hell, I think it was Teresa and Margaret, there’s no telling what they said to her.”

  “Find out, Kane. I want to know how many minutes until I get up and walk out of here. I swear to God, there’s going to be hell to pay. Presley’s precious, she’s gentle – by God, she’s mine and I want her back!”

  *****

  Presley got a cab. She didn’t even know where to tell him to go. “Take me to The Horseman,” she finally said. Chloe and Frasier would welcome her.

  But when she got there, it was closed, or rather it hadn’t opened – it was too early. She could have gone to their apartment, but that didn’t seem right. Feeling extremely vulnerable, she dialed Kelly. If she ever needed her mother, it was now.

  “Hello?”

  “Kelly – uh, mother, it’s Presley. Could we meet?”

  “What time is it?” she sounded groggy and sleepy. Hopefully she wasn’t hung over. Presley hated to think such a thing. She needed to give her mother every consideration. This could be a time of healing and a new beginning for them.

  “It’s nine-thirty in the morning. Could I come where you are?” Lord, she knew she sounded desperate.

  A big sigh. “I guess so. Could you bring me a carton of cigarettes and a six-pack of beer?”

  “No, I can’t,” Presley didn’t even blink before answering. Not only did she not have the money, she didn’t want to think of her mother using those products.

  “Shit.” After a few garbled words, she was finally able to make out an address.

  “Thanks, I’ll be there soon.” Considering her options, she decided to take the bus. Twice, Zane called. Twice, she ignored it and then she turned off the phone and dropped it in the bottom of her purse. What a difference a few hours could make. She was now afraid to hear what Zane might say to her. In fact, she was petrified.

  As the big, belching bus made its way from downtown Austin to the lower east side, she considered what she was going to do. There was no way she could continue working at Saucier & Barclay. But she’d have to go back, leaving without giving proper notice was unthinkable. They had been too good to her to treat them so abominably. Zane couldn’t help because his feelings for her had changed. After all, he had been in the dark, so to speak.

  What could she do? She didn’t want to go back to Work Force or make pastries again. Zane had given her an unbelievable opportunity, he had legitimized her legal career, and she wasn’t going to waste his gracious act. Professor Maddow. She would call Professor Maddow and take him up on his job offer. Perhaps Adam would let her fulfill her two week notice with online work.

  With a gust of expelled air, the bus put on its air brakes and came to a halt at the intersection near to Kelly’s apartment. Presley stood and made her way down the aisle of the bus. Several people jostled her and she had to steady herself by holding on to the back of the seat. “Why don’t you get out of the way, Ugly!” The man’s harsh words startled her. She looked up to see who he was talking to, wanting to defend them. Then she met his piercing glare and it dawned on Presley that he was talking to her.

  As quickly as she could, she climbed off the bus and fled down the street. Trying to see through a haze of tears, Presley had gone half a block in the wrong direction before she came to her senses and turned around. With crossed arms over her breasts, she held herself tight and walked stiffly toward the run-down apartment building. Cautiously, she walked up the stairs. This was the type of building where one could get mugged or raped – in her case, more likely mugged. Hell! Now, she was thinking stupid. Rapists weren’t that discriminating. The hallway was damp and dark and she had to strain to see the numbers on the door. Two forty-one, two-forty-two – ah, here is was, two forty-four. Presley pressed the door bell, but it was broken. So, she tapped. Again.

  “All right, all right,” the door was thrown open and there before her stood – her mother. She was old looking. Time hadn’t been kind to Kelly Love. Or maybe it was Kelly who hadn’t been kind to herself. “Well, look at you. Come in,” she made a broad gesture.

  Presley walked in and she was transported back in time to the small trashy trailer where she had spent her childhood. This could have been the same place. The kitchen was littered with dirty dishes and congealed food was stuck to the plates. Dirty clothes were strewn about and cigarette butts filled every possible container. Half empty glasses of liquid sat about like the set of the movie Signs. “Thank you, Mother.”

  “Sit down,” Kelly said harshly and Presley looked for a suitable spot. “Don’t be so damn picky. Sit down!” Presley jumped, but she sat down.

  “I’m glad to see you,” she offered a verbal olive branch to her mother.

  “Well, I’m glad you got to see me, too.” It was a second or two before Presley realized she had been vaguely insulted.

  “How have you been?”

  “My life has been a series of misfortunate events, beginning with the day I found out I was pregnant with you.”

  Every word out of her mother’s mouth was an insult. “Why did you want to see me, Kelly?”

  “I need money.”

  Well, that was blunt.

  “Money?”

  “Yea, I heard about you dating that rich blind lawyer. I checked up on you. Presley, I have to hand it you – a blind man, good for you.” She laughed. “You found somebody that just suits you.”

  Never would she have thought it, but Presley got satisfaction from telling her mother the sad truth. “We’re not dating anymore, because he’s not blind anymore.”

  “Ha! Of course.” She nodded like it made sense to her. “Shucks, just my luck.”

  “Yea, so I don’t have any money.”

  “None, how about from that fancy job you have?”

  “No, I haven’t been paid and I’m having to quit, because we’re not dating anymore.” The facts seemed cold and hard. She felt frozen and lifeless.

  “Hell, you have to have some money, somewhere. I figure you owe me.”

  “I owe you?” she couldn’t help but sound skeptical. “For what?”

  “You owe me for letting you live. I tried to abort you once, you know.”

  “What?” The words coming out of her mother’s mouth just floored her.

  “You weren’t wanted. I tried to abort you.” She said it like it was the simplest thing in the world. She wasn’t wanted. Well, she knew that. What was so wild was that she had thought about it when she was growing up, when things were really, really bad. Presley would wonder what it would have been like to just not have been born. Now, she laughed – out loud.

  “What happened? What did you mess up?” Was letting her live messing up?

  “Mother said I messed you up with drugs and alcohol. It was my fault that you are the way you are. So when I was twenty-four weeks pregnant, I went for an ultrasound and I saw you. I saw how you looked and I knew you’d be better off dead. The doctor told me a cleft was a good enough reason for an abortion so they gave me some drugs – the word started with a ‘p’, I don’t remember what it was called. But it started my labor, but it didn’t work and they wouldn’t try it again. They said it was a one shot deal, so you were born and I took you to mother’s at the first opportunity.”

  Presley just listened. Now, she knew what her grandmother had been referring to all those years when she would talk about how lucky she was to be alive and how grateful she should be. Six months! Her mother had tried to abor
t her when she was six months in the womb.

  Not thinking, not feeling, not really seeing – Presley got up and walked out.

  “Where are you going?” When Kelly saw that she was leaving, she yelled at her, but Presley didn’t answer. She just left.

  Putting one foot after another, Presley walked until she got to The Horsemen Club. She knocked on the still locked door until Frasier finally came to answer it. With sobs and gasps, she finally got her tale told. How much sense she made, she didn’t know. Zane’s surgery, Margaret’s appearance, the rejection – her mother’s abortion attempt – it all got mixed up in her heartbreak and the only thing she knew was that she had no place to be. Presley didn’t belong anywhere. She wasn’t wanted and she had no home. Oh, she could sit down and reason that she had an apartment – such as it was – she was an adult and could make her own way in the world. She could provide herself with a place to live, to exist, but that wasn’t a home. A home was a person to belong to and Presley didn’t have that. She might never have a home.

  Chloe came and held her; she rocked her. “I want you to quit crying now, Girl. There must be some mistake. Zane would not choose Margaret over you. At one time he might have been that stupid, but he’s not anymore. Zane Saucier is a smart, kind, sensitive man and he will come after you. You mark my word.”

  “No, I don’t want him to come,” she wailed.

  “Oh Honey, I understand. You just need some time to think things through. Why don’t you stay with us for a couple of days?” Relying on others was not Presley’s habit, but Chloe and Frasier comforted her and right now, she needed to feel less alone. Over the next twenty four hours, she slowly began to regroup. Frasier let her use his office and his phone and she placed two difficult phone calls. Even though they hadn’t expected her at work, she called in sick at Saucier & Barclay, giving them a verbal two week notice. Adam came on the line and questioned her, but she was evasive. Promising to come in the next day and explain, she hastily cut the conversation short. After that, she called Professor Maddow and set up a meeting. He was surprised, but happy.

  *****

  She tried, in vain, to keep her mind off Zane. But she wondered and worried over his condition. Taking a risk, she called the hospital to check on him and was told he had checked out. Well, that must mean he was okay. For that, she was grateful. Now, she just needed to stay busy – anything to occupy her attention and keep her mind from dwelling on the tremendous ache in her heart. There was only one thing she could do automatically that gave her some relief from her despair – she could cook. So Frasier turned over a section of the kitchen to her and she began to make pastries – fried fruit pies, loaves of pumpkin bread, cheese-filled Danish – soon the kitchen was filled with aromas and people were placing special orders in the kitchen for the unexpected, yet welcome desserts.

  Two days had passed since she had seen Zane – two terrible days and Chloe reported than he had phoned the restaurant looking for her. “He sounds worried. You’ve got to talk to him.”

  “It would be best if I didn’t. He’s just being nice. Zane is a gentleman. Even if we’re not together, he’s just concerned for my welfare. Did you tell him I’m okay?”

  “Yes.”

  “But you didn’t tell him I’m staying with you, did you?” A small hint of panic entered her voice. She took the apron off that had been covering her clothes and straightened the simple sheathe dress she wore underneath. A dusting of flour adorned the dark red material and she brushed it off.

  “Sheriff Kane is outside eating your fried pies. I don’t think it’s a secret anymore,” she said dryly.

  “Dang!” Presley folded the apron and turned her back to Chloe. “I guess it’s time to go home. I appreciate everything you’ve done for me, Chloe.” As she spoke, she put ingredients back on the shelf and organized the big spoons and spatulas in proper order. “The thing I’m most grateful far is your getting me a chance to work for Zane and to meet him. I enjoyed him so much. I’ll never forget him, but Zane will be happy. Margaret is as beautiful as he is. They’re a perfect match. He’ll be better off without me.”

  “I don’t want to live a day without you.”

  Zane’s husky voice, rough with emotion, sounded just over her left shoulder, Presley froze. She didn’t move a muscle and she certainly didn’t turn around. Her hand automatically went up to cover her mouth.

  “Turn around. Look at me, Beloved.”

  “No, I can’t. Please don’t make me.”

  “I know what you look like, Presley. Like I told you before, I’ve seen you in my dreams.”

  “No, my mouth . . .”

  “I’ve kissed that precious mouth a thousand times. Don’t you think I know what it looks like?” She heard him move closer, she could feel the heat from his body on her back. Presley quaked with the need to go to his arms. Her whole body was responding to his, the need to be held was overwhelming.

  “Zane . . .” she whispered his name – wanting, needing – yet, so very afraid to take a chance.

  “Turn around and look at the man who loves you.”

  She did. After the first tiny move, it was the easiest thing she had ever done.

  “There’s my kitten.” Zane’s heart contracted, seeing the tears in her eyes and the uncertainty on her sweet face. “Do you know who you look like to me?”

  “No,” she searched his face for how he was feeling. As always – he was perfect, except this time, he was looking back at her. There was total comprehension and total focus in his eyes.

  He held out his hand and she placed her palm on top of his. The touch of their skin sent tingles up her arm. “You look like the woman I love.”

  His declaration set her free and she closed the distance between them with a strangled sob. “Zane, I missed you so. Are you okay? I was so worried. I’m sorry I left, so sorry.”

  “God, don’t ever leave me again. Don’t you know it was your face I wanted to see most of all – only your face. Let’s go home.” He picked her up and walked out of the kitchen, through the restaurant and out into the street. Chloe and Frasier waved and several in the restaurant clapped. Kane looked on approvingly with a mouth full of pastry, crumbs falling to the plate. It was like the famous scene from an old movie that she had watched over and over, wishing her prince would come and carry her off to his waiting steed.

  Her hero wasn’t a prince, but he was the sexiest cowboy lawyer in the world. And even though he owned beautiful horses, his steed was a Mercedes with a new dent, she noticed. “Well, hello Miss Presley,” Sherwood greeted her. “I’m relieved to see you back where you belong.” Presley smiled at the chauffeur over Zane’s shoulder. “Where to, Sir?”

  “Home, Sherwood and make it speedy.” Presley didn’t sit in the seat. She lay in his arms and Zane just kept staring at her, touching her face and kissing her lips. So, Presley stared back and they smiled and giggled at one another. It was pure joy. She could see her image reflected in his eyes and she just wanted to drown in them.

  “I’ve gazed into your eyes so often, longing for you to be able to see. I was afraid for you to see me,” she bit her lower lip, “but I wanted that for you more than I wanted anything. What happened with Margaret? Didn’t you want to see her instead of me?”

  “I know, Baby. I could look at you forever and be happy. I didn’t want to see Margaret. I was pissed that she was there. I told her exactly how it is, and then I told her to leave. I deserve better than her. I don’t pretend to be good enough to deserve you, but I’ll try to prove myself every day for the rest of my life. Oh my god, when I woke up and found out you were gone, I thought I was going to die. I nearly ruined my surgery trying to tear out of that hospital. You have no idea what you are to me, do you? You were the light, when I had only darkness. You were the color in a world of black. You were depth and beauty in a great empty void. And then, upon all that, I woke up. I opened my eyes and I could see again. What did I discover? There was no light, or color, or beauty, because you
were gone. When I found you, in the kitchen, and I looked into your beautiful, perfect face, I saw. It wasn’t in the hospital. It was you, the whole time. I need you, Honey. I need you so I can see again. Stay with me forever, and give me the gift of beauty for the rest of eternity. I love you so much, Presley. Will you marry me?”

  “Hallelujah!” Sherwood voiced from the front.

  They laughed; it was easy to forget they weren’t alone. “Are you sure?” she asked. “I only want you to be happy. You don’t have to marry me. I’ll stay with you for as long as you want.”

  “Oh yes, you do have to marry me. I want you to be my wife more than I want to see. I, Zane Saucier, want to spend all my days with you, Presley Love.” He sealed his promise with a kiss, weaving his fingers in that beautiful hair of hers and taking that sweet mouth over and over. The first thing he wanted to do was take inventory of his blessings. He was going to inspect Presley – inch by glorious inch – and pay homage with his hands, his lips and his tongue. Other parts of him were clamoring to be included and he promised his cock that it wouldn’t be long before it was back where it belonged – deep inside of his beloved’s sweet body.

  “We’re here, Sir.”

  “Good.” Without looking to the left or the right, there’d be time for that later; he carried Presley over the threshold like a bride. This was his first return to Whispering Pines since he regained his vision, but he was more interested in gazing upon the love of his life than anything else. Later, they’d share his rediscovery of his home, but not now. Now was reserved for pleasure.

  “You aren’t excited to see the rest of the world again after so long?” Presley asked, in awe of Zane’s behavior.

  “The only thing in the world that I wanted to see as they were unraveling my bandages was you.”

  Zane strode through his house, barely seeing all the familiar – yet unfamiliar – details. It was his home, yet he had not surveyed it in years. But he knew where he was going and he knew what he was going to do when he got there. Kicking the bedroom door shut, he sat her down and stood over her, relishing the moment.