Dream

Sunny didn’t talk to me for three excruciating days. She kept the door to the guesthouse locked when she was inside and locked the door when she left, usually to go talk to Raindrop. I tried numerous times to talk to her, but she ignored me as if I didn’t exist to her. I was sure she hated me.

I mostly hung out by the pool, hoping to get a chance to talk to her. Venus kept her distance, and then she and Willow went to stay at Grandmother’s house for a few days, to help Moonbeam and Lilac with some new jewelry ideas since they were expanding on their creations. It was good to have distance from her as I sorted things out with Sunny.

Now it was evening, probably after eleven because everyone had gone to bed, and I lay on the cushioned lounge chair just outside the guesthouse door at the side of the shimmering pool. The lamp by the front window was on and Sunny was inside, probably asleep.

I couldn’t sleep, like the previous two nights. Sure, I’d get a few hours of rest here and there, but not much. I was an idiot. I knew what Sunny’s reaction would be, but I still tried. She was never going to forgive me.

I stared at the half-moon above me, enjoying the quiet of the evening, but this wasn’t where I wanted to be. I wanted to be with her. I wanted to be inside that guesthouse, in bed with the woman I loved—the woman I would always love. I’d never felt like that with anyone else in my life, and I had completely screwed it up. Sunny and I were meant for one another. We were a team. Partners in everything. I never even told her what I was thinking about Venus. Maybe if I had, things would have been different.

The guesthouse door opened. Sunny stood in the doorway staring at me. She walked away but left the door ajar. I hurried over and walked inside.

“You unlocked the door,” I said, meeting her gaze.

“Yes.”

I moved closer to her. Her hair was damp and fresh smelling. She must have just taken a shower. “I missed you.”

“Did you?” she asked, a quick glare darted at me. “What about Venus?”

“I’m sorry,” I said, never dropping her gaze. “I’m stupid. I’m so stupid. Please forgive me.”

“Hmmm…” She moved closer to me. “You are stupid.”

I nodded.

“And I missed you too,” she said. Her lips hovered by mine. I kissed her softly. She responded, leaning into me. A few tears escaped my eyes.

“Thank you for forgiving me,” I said, wiping them away.

“Are you crying?”

“No. Maybe.” I kissed her again. “I promise no secrets between us ever. We tell each other everything.”

“Everything,” she agreed.

I kissed her neck, her breasts, and down her flat stomach. She laughed because her stomach was always ticklish. She pulled me back up to her, grabbed my hands, and led us to our bed.

The week flew by and now we helped Brother Jim move himself and the other family members into Listening Lark’s new home next door. River and Branch would stay at Grandmother’s house to work on the winery we planned to start up; I’d be overseeing the enterprise, something new that I was excited about doing for Listening Lark. Branch’s family had a large winery in Napa, and he knew quite a bit about the business. Learning the winery process would be interesting to me and it felt like everything was falling into place in so many aspects of my life.

Sunny and I fell back into our normal routine, and it felt so good. Things seemed to calm with Raindrop too. Life with Sunny in the guesthouse was exactly what I wanted. How could I want more?

We still did yoga with Venus and the others in the morning. We had some conversations with Venus about the new house and topics of that nature. A bit awkward in the beginning, but things smoothed out quickly. Everything was fine between the three of us. I think everyone moved on from the incident.

My peacefulness returned. Sunny and I would always be together.

FORTY-FOUR2024

Aimee

Dr. Daly’s office was an oasis of calm in busy downtown Center City. Pale pink walls blending with crisp white furniture, soft floral pillows in a delicate pattern on her comfortable sofa and equally comfortable overstuffed chairs. A long, slim coffee table in front of the sofa had a box of tissues on it and an etched glass candy bowl filled with Hershey’s Kisses. The lighting was dimmed, with a warm floral lamp lit on a side table next to the sofa. I’d spent many hours in this room. Many hours trying to heal my mind and move on from the trauma of my past.

“Aimee,” Dr. Hazel Daly said. She sat in one of the overstuffed chairs with her notebook and pen at the ready. Her laptop sat on the coffee table. “It’s been a long time.”

“Yes,” I said.

“How have you been?”

“Not good. Not terrible, but I’m having some trouble.”

“What kind of trouble?”

“Getting motivated, sometimes getting out of bed in the morning. I think I need to start medication again.”

Dr. Daly nodded. “Yes, that is something we could do, though I think we should talk first. I’m glad you recognized the issue and came to see me. We should keep regular appointments.”

“I think so too.”

“How about everything else? Have the nightmares returned?”

“No, but…”

“Yes?”

“I’ve been thinking about them lately. My parents.”

“Okay, what about?”

I fiddled with the edge of the floral pillow. “Maybe I could have done something differently. You know how I play out the entire scenario in my mind. Was I wrong by doing what I did?”

Dr. Daly paused. “It’s a complicated situation, Aimee, and you were only seventeen. It’s easy to have hindsight now and think of other options, but in the heat of the moment you did what you thought was right at the time.”

I nodded. I’d forgotten how much I liked Dr. Daly. She validated my feelings and helped me put things into perspective.

But Dr. Daly didn’t know all my secrets, only a few.

FORTY-FIVE2013

Aimee

The rain fell steadily in the morning giving our already gloomy house a deeper level of darkness. I lay on the living room sofa, flicking through the TV channels with the remote, but finding nothing of interest.

I heard her fumbling around in the back bedroom. The shower ran and then the hair dryer. Mixed feelings swelled inside me. Glad she was finally moving around. She hadn’t left her bedroom in two days, a common occurrence lately, but now I’d have to deal with her and that was always so exhausting.

The door creaked open, and Mom walked out. She wore jeans that hung loose on her ever-thinning frame and a plain white sweatshirt. Her hair was washed and brushed. She even wore makeup. She looked good, better than she had in weeks.

“Mom,” I said, jumping off the sofa. “You look nice.”