She had never meant to begin a friendship with Steve, and now she felt self-conscious about the amount of information she was sharing without knowing why. She felt a little raw and exposed—but she also felt a sense of freedom. She was generally a very private person; she rarely shared things about herself with her own family, let alone with strangers. Making friends was hard for her. She saw vulnerability as a weakness. Yet something else was going on here, and she didn’t understand what it was.
The conversation was by no means one-sided. Sierra learned that Steve taught fifth grade and had always wanted to be a teacher. Both of his parents were in education. His mom was a principal in the Milwaukee public school system, and his father was a former superintendent in the same system who had written a book about education and now worked as a consultant for school boards and schools around the country.
Steve shared that he had never been married but had once been engaged. The engagement was broken off when they both realized that they ultimately wanted different things out of life. He had no children but wanted them. Essentially, he was currently living his dream and now just wanted to lay down some roots.
“So, how is it that you’re able to get away from work in the middle of the day so often?” Sierra asked.
“I actually almost never take off work, certainly not any time in the last two years, so a couple of days now didn’t really raise any eyebrows. Plus, I have a teaching assistant who helps out when needed.”
“Yeah, but wouldn’t it have just been easier to tell me to wait until the weekend?”
Steve sat back in his chair and gave Sierra a long look, as if he was trying to read her thoughts. “After the first time you disappeared and weren’t returning phone calls, I realized I missed you and was harboring feelings other than client to real estate agent,” he admitted. “I wanted to see you. I didn’t want to wait.”
Sierra’s mouth dropped open at the admission. “You wanted to see me enough to take off work . . . something you rarely do? But you don’t even know me!”
Unrepentant, Steve simply returned her gaze steadily— then he smiled and said, “Plus, I really need a new house. My lease will be up in the next month.”
His joking manner broke the tension, and Sierra was able to relax again.
She found herself marveling at how well the lunch was going. Steve was really funny. She was having such a good time, in fact, that she didn’t realize how late it was until she checked her phone. They had been talking for two hours, and she had paperwork to complete and one more house to show that afternoon. She stood up and began to gather the remains of their lunch to place in the trash.
“I’m so sorry to rush off, but I really have to go,” she said.
Steve looked disappointed. “Well thanks for coming—”
“I’m sorry, I really have to go,” Sierra said, already walking out the door. “I’m going to be late!”
“I guess I’ll see you later,” Steve called back.
Sierra rushed off without a backward glance. She was still flustered when she got to her car. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d enjoyed a meal with a man that much. Had she ever? She was glad of the excuse of having to go; now that she was safely away from Steve, she realized she’d left hurriedly more out of a desire to protect her feelings than any concern about being late for her showing.
She wasn’t sure whether she would address these new feelings with Dr. Cayden or not. She didn’t really understand them, so she couldn’t see herself trying to explain them to someone else.
Chapter 16
Sierra pulled out a beautiful fuschia cashmere sweater to wear with her black skirt and high-heeled black leather boots as she got herself ready for her date with Dale. After her lunch with Steve, she’d shown a house to a very pleasant older woman and finished up some paperwork. However, Steve hadn’t left her mind all day. She kept remembering his eyes, how they seemed to bore into her soul. His hands, when he’d reached across the table to touch hers, had been a little rough, but the touch had been gentle.
Sierra shook her head, determined to get her mind to focus. She needed to close on his house and hopefully also close the labyrinth’s door that had opened when she met him.
A perfect way to begin to slam the door on her thoughts of Steve was to ready herself for her date with Dale and try her hardest to be as enthusiastic as possible on this date.
By the time Sierra reached the restaurant, Dale was already there. She was informed of this fact by the maître d’ at the door, who led her to the table where her date was waiting, sipping water.
The restaurant was dimly lit, allowing the candles that occupied the tables to create an atmosphere of romance. As Sierra approached the table, Dale got up out of his seat to pull her chair out before the maître d’ could get there.
Sierra smiled politely. “Thank you.”
“I’m happy that we’re finally meeting,” Dale said. “I’ve heard nothing but good things about you.”
“Same here. And if I hadn’t called you back, my mom would have gotten your number and made plans for a date with you herself,” Sierra said, laughing.
And just like that, the ice was broken. Conversation flowed easily as they ordered their meals and glasses of red wine. Sierra learned that Dale was a family medicine physician. He explained that he provided comprehensive health care for individuals and families. He talked about his three-year residency at a local hospital. He now had his own practice in a building with a cardiologist and a dentist. He very much liked what he did. That he was also handsome didn’t escape Sierra’s notice. He was tall, at least six foot four, with broad shoulders and a muscular physique.
During the conversation, Dale revealed that he’d played football in college and had just never lost the desire to wake up early and train. He was the epitome of tall, brown, and handsome, and was very well dressed. He had on a suit that fit him well and that was at home on his body. He looked relaxed and confident. Sierra was attracted to him. And yet throughout the night her mind continued to take long walks back to her time with Steve—something she didn’t like one bit.
“Sierra, are you okay?” Dale asked.
Sierra blinked and straightened in her chair as if to adjust her wayward thoughts. “I’m fine, thanks. Sorry.”
“I don’t mean to bore you with more stories about my family . . .”
Dale had three brothers, one older and two younger, and had been regaling Sierra with stories of their adventures. Sierra actually found the narration funny and was sorry that she was being rude.
“You’re not boring me. You guys sound like you have a lot of fun together,” Sierra responded honestly, determined to be more attentive.
And for the rest of the date, she was more attentive. Dale made it easy, as he was fun and kept the conversation light. Sierra also told him funny stories that had happened to her in real estate and talked about some fun times she’d had in college. He told her how impressed he was that she had her own successful business, and he genuinely seemed to mean it. He even hinted at the power couple they would make together.
By the time the dessert came and Sierra ate a little tiramisu, she was stuffed and happy. This date had been a good idea.
When the waiter brought the check, Dale grabbed it before she could even look at it.
“I’d be happy to . . .” Sierra began.
He gave her a warm smile and shook his head. “It’s my pleasure.”
He helped her into her coat, and then they walked to the door. She pointed to her car in the parking lot and Dale walked her over to it.
“I had a really nice time,” he said as he took her car keys and opened the door for her.
“Me too,” Sierra said.
“I think we should do this again.”
Sierra smiled. “Me too,” she repeated.
“I’ll call you,” he said. He lightly kissed Sierra’s cheek— sweet and chaste—and stepped back to let her get into her car.
Sierra closed
her car door and waved at Dale as she drove out of the parking lot. She really liked him: he was very attractive, successful, funny, smart, and a gentleman. He was exactly the type of person that she should be with. He made sense.
When she arrived home, she pulled out her phone and informed Dale via text that she had gotten there safely, per his request. He told her to have a good night and that he’d had a very good time. She wished him the same and again agreed that the evening had been fun.
It had been a good date, and Dale was a good guy. But when Sierra got ready for bed and laid her head down on her pillow, her heart wouldn’t behave; it changed the channel in her mind so that the person she thought of before she went to sleep was not Dale but Steve.
Chapter 17
On the following Friday, after showing some houses earlier in the day, Sierra went to her appointment with Dr. Cayden. She didn’t know where they would be headed today. As Sierra took her seat, she looked at the doctor.
Dr. Cayden had her hair in the same severe bun and was wearing the same string of pearls. Her outfit was similar as well. The only thing that had changed were the colors she wore: today she had on a red silk shirt and a khaki-colored pencil skirt. Maybe the doctor has a uniform, Sierra thought, amused. Had she done research and found that the silk shirt and pencil skirt were a combination of clothing that immediately put people at ease? Would she wear it every time?
“So, how have you been?” Dr. Cayden asked.
“I’ve been okay.”
“Have you had any dreams this week?”
“No, not really. Not any that I can remember.” Sierra knew that she wasn’t being truthful; she’d had a wonderful dream. But so much had happened since last weekend that she hadn’t had time to digest the events herself, let alone want to share and dissect them. She decided to save those thoughts for another Friday.
“Is there anything that you want to talk about?”
Sierra answered in the negative again.
“All right, Sierra. I’d like to talk about your dreams some more, but first I want to talk about a couple of other things.”
Sierra shifted in her seat on the couch, sensing the doctor was about to discuss something serious.
“Do you know what it means to be depressed?” Dr. Cayden asked.
Sierra was a little thrown by the question, though she should have expected it; her other doctor had briefly questioned her about this before referring her to Dr. Cayden, after all. “I would generally guess it to mean that someone is sad all of the time,” she said.
“Do you think you know what that would look like?” Dr. Cayden asked.
Sierra only shrugged, not sure if she liked where this was going. Not for the first time, she felt apprehensive in this office. And this is only visit number two.
“It can be a condition that causes a persistent feeling of sadness.”
Sierra only continued to nod in response.
“It also causes a loss of interest in normal activities. It can manifest, too, as insomnia or excessive sleeping, unhappiness, irritability or frustration over small matters, fatigue, loss of energy, feelings of worthlessness or guilt, and a number of other things that by themselves could mean something else but together turns out to be depression.”
“Is that what you’re saying is wrong with me? You think I’m depressed?”
Dr. Cayden shook her head. “Not necessarily. But I do want you to start to really think about your feelings and how often you feel those feelings throughout the day. I will say that you certainly have exhibited several of the symptoms, and I think that you can agree with me on that.”
Sierra nodded again, not sure what to say, or if she even wanted to say anything.
Dr. Cayden broke the silence. “I want you to tell me more about your dreams today. You said that you’re different characters in the dreams. Tell me about who that person is.”
Sierra was still thinking about the idea of her being depressed. She didn’t answer.
Dr. Cayden gave her some time, and then prompted her again. “Sierra? Who are you in your dreams?”
Sierra took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “At first I was a few different women, as I explained before. I was always in a high-stress situation and alone. I was scared in these dreams, to be sure, but I thought about something recently.”
“And what was that?”
“In the beginning I was scared and alone, but I never felt like my character in the dreams was someone who would give up easily. It’s just a feeling that I had. And then . . .” She paused again, trying to make sense of her own thoughts.
“And then . . .” Dr. Cayden encouraged.
“And then I began to have dreams about me as someone named Dorothy. I mean, my name is Dorothy in the dreams, but I still have my own thoughts, like in all the other dreams.”
Dr. Cayden nodded. “Can you describe Dorothy?”
“Like I said, Dorothy seems to be me. I guess I can describe her in terms of how other characters in these dreams seem to perceive her . . .”
“And how would that be?”
“Brave, kind, smart, and caring.”
“Can you talk about the dreams in which you are Dorothy?”
Sierra began with the first dream, the one where she met Mary on the bus. She even went on to describe the events that took place after they left the bus. When Sierra got to the very end of the dream, she relayed to Dr. Cayden the thing that really stuck out in her memory: “I was very scared at this point, but the dream didn’t end with my being scared. It ended with my thinking about my friend and whether or not she was okay. My concern for her trumped my fear, and I was able to fight through the pain in order to check on her.”
Sierra talked about the very next dream and the dream after that, which seemed to be continuations of the first dream as Dorothy. Sierra relayed the details of the jail dream and the dream at the church that ended in the kitchen.
“So, as Dorothy you have these people you care about and that you’re learning and growing from,” Dr. Cayden said. “These seem to be people with whom you have a goal in common, so you feel a sense of camaraderie with them.”
Sierra nodded slowly. “Yes.”
“I want to ask you a couple of other questions about these dreams, if you feel comfortable.”
Sierra tilted her head. “Sure.”
“You said that you prayed in the dream. Do you believe in God, or do you pray not as Sierra but as Dorothy?”
“Yes, I believe in God—though I didn’t for a while. And as far as prayer is concerned, I only recently started to pray again . . . after these dreams started.”
“Can you tell me what happened to make you not believe in God?”
Sierra instantly looked down and away, and found herself wringing her hands. “Something happened when I was little, and I asked God to help me with it, but he didn’t.”
Dr. Cayden nodded and let the short silence pass. Then she said, “Do you think you can share with me what you asked God to help you with?”
Sierra wasn’t sure she was ready to share this bit of information. Dr. Cayden patiently waited. And then, without even making a conscious decision to do so, Sierra decided to jump off the cliff.
“I was sexually abused as a child,” she blurted out, “and during that time I asked God to help me. I prayed every day for it to stop. And it did eventually, but it took a while, and after that I was angry for a long time. Not just at God but at the world.”
Sierra stopped talking. She was very proud of herself that she hadn’t shed a single tear.
“So you didn’t really stop believing in Him,” Dr. Cayden said. “You were just angry at Him.”
Sierra shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess.”
Dr. Cayden waited. When Sierra didn’t offer anything else, she asked, “What about John? The man at the end of the last dream? Is he someone you know? Maybe someone you’ve seen before in your real life?”
“He’s not someone I physically recognize, but I get the sen
se that I’ve somehow known him before.”
“And the other people—this Mary and Miss Patty—are they people you know, or do you just have a feeling of familiarity with them as well?”
“I don’t recognize them physically either, but I feel as if we have some connection.”
“In these last dreams, even though the first two were violent, somehow you weren’t as scared as you were in that first couple of dreams. In fact, in the dream in the jail, you seemed to be able to take charge and be somewhat of a leader. Would you agree with that?”
Sierra thought about that for a second, and finally nodded. “I guess you could say that.”
“Do you know why that is?”
“In the dream, Mary said I was the brave one,” Sierra said slowly. “Maybe that had an effect on me. Everyone around me was doing these courageous things, so rising above the fear felt natural. They all had so much faith that maybe some seeped into me.”
“And you don’t think that it could have been the other way around?”
Sierra’s brows drew together. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, maybe they were borrowing faith and courage from you.”
The thought had never occurred to Sierra.
Their time was almost up. Dr. Cayden looked Sierra in the eyes. “Did you have anything else you wanted to talk about?”
“Well, there is one thing,” Sierra shared apprehensively.
“And what is that?”
“After the dream on the bus where I was beaten, I woke up with a bloody nose and a headache. Could that really be just coincidence? I just can’t come up with a rational explanation for why that would have happened.”
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