Dream A Little Dream

She remembered the way his breath had fallen on her-clean, with no hint of alcohol. She still had the feeling his attack had more to do with his own demons than hers. 'Yeah, well, maybe you should give it up. You acted like an ass.'

'I know.'

'The king of asses.'

His gaze flicked back to her, and she actually thought she detected a spark of amusement in those hard silver eyes. Was that possible?

'You're going to make me grovel, aren't you?'

'Like a worm.'

'Does anything put a cork in that mouth of yours?' His lips curved in something that almost resembled a smile, and she was so stunned it took her a moment to muster a response.

'Disrespect is part of my charm.'

'Whoever told you that lied.'

'Are you calling Billy Graham a liar?'

For a moment, the curl of his mouth grew more pronounced, but then the familiar scowl returned. Apparently his time for groveling was over. He gestured toward her with his Dr Pepper can. 'Don't you have any jeans? Tell me, what kind of idiot does manual labor in a dress?'

Somebody who doesn't have anything else to wear, she thought. She wouldn't spend a penny on clothes for herself, not when Edward was growing out of his. 'I love dresses, Bonner. They make me feel all cute and feminine.'

'With those shoes?' He regarded her big black oxfords with distaste.

'What can I say? I'm a slave to fashion.'

'Bull. Those old jeans of yours gave out, didn't they? Well, buy yourself some new ones. I'll buy you some new ones. Consider it a uniform.'

He'd seen her swallow her pride again and again, but that had been for Edward. This was not. She made no effort to hide her scorn. 'If you buy 'em, you wear 'em.'

Several seconds ticked by while he seemed to take her measure. 'You're tough, aren't you?'

'The toughest.'

'So tough you don't even need food.' His gaze moved to the food sack in her lap. 'Are you going to eat those fries or just play with them?'

'I told you I wasn't hungry.'

'That must explain why you look like a skeleton. You're anorexic, aren't you?'

'Poor people don't get anorexia.' She pushed a second French fry in her mouth. It was so good she wanted to stuff the entire package in. At the same time, she felt guilty for robbing Edward of even part of a treat he'd enjoy so much.

'Kristy says you hardly eat anything.'

It bothered her to discover that Kristy was reporting to Gabe behind her back. 'She should mind her own business.'

'So why don't you eat?'

'You're right. I'm anorexic. Now let's drop the subject, okay?'

'Poor people don't get anorexia.'

She ignored him and savored another French fry.

'Try some of that hamburger.'

'I'm vegetarian.'

'You've been eating meat at Kristy's.'

'What are you, the food police?'

'I don't get it. Unless…' He studied her with shrewd eyes. 'That first day when you fainted, I gave you a cupcake, and you tried to pass it off to your kid.'

She stiffened.

'That's what's going on, isn't it? You're giving your food to your kid.'

'His name is Edward, and this heads the list of things that aren't any of your business.'

He stared at her and shook his head. 'You're acting crazy. You know that, don't you? Your boy's getting plenty to eat. You're the one who's starving to death.'

'I'm not talking about this.'

'Damn, Rachel. You're nutty as a fruitcake.'

'I am not!'

'Then explain it to me.'

'I don't have to explain anything. Besides, look who's talking. In case you haven't noticed, you crossed through that padded cell between normal and psychotic a good hundred miles back.'

'That must be why we get along so well.'

He spoke so pleasantly she nearly smiled. He took a sip of his Dr Pepper. She gazed beyond the far edge of the screen toward Heartache Mountain and remembered how much she'd loved these mountains when Dwayne had first brought her here. It used to be, when she'd gazed at the green vista out her bedroom window, she felt as if she were touching the face of God.

She looked over at Gabe and, for the briefest moment, she saw another human being instead of an enemy. She saw someone as lost as she and just as determined not to show it.

He rested the back of his head against the jungle-gym bar and gazed over at her. 'Your boy… He's been eating a good dinner every night, hasn't he?'

Her feeling of kinship vanished. 'Are we back to this again?'

'Just answer the question. Has he been eating a decent dinner?'

She nodded begrudgingly.

'Breakfast, too?' he asked.

'I guess.'

'They have snacks at the day-care center and a big lunch. I'll bet either you or Kristy gives him another snack when he gets home.'

But what about next month? she thought. Next year?

A chill passed through her. She was being pushed toward something dangerous.

'Rachel,' he said quietly, 'this business of starving yourself has to stop.'

'You don't know what you're talking about!'

'Then explain it to me.'

If he'd spoken harshly, everything would have been all right, but she had few defenses against that quiet, measured tone. She mustered the ones she could gather and went on the attack.

'I'm responsible for him, Bonner. Me! There's no one else. I'm the one who's responsible for his food, his clothes, the shots he gets at the doctor's office, everything!'

'Then maybe you should take better care of yourself.'

Her eyes stung. 'Don't you tell me what to do.'

'The inmates at the asylum need to stick together.'

His words, coupled with the clear understanding she saw in his eyes, took her breath away. She wanted to go after him again, but couldn't frame her thoughts. He was exposing something she should have examined long ago, but hadn't been able to face.

'I don't want to talk about this.'

'Good. Eat instead.'

Her fingers convulsed around the paper sack in her lap, and she made herself face the truth she didn't want to acknowledge.

No matter how much she deprived herself, she couldn't guarantee that Edward would be safe.

She experienced a surge of helplessness so powerful it nearly crushed her. She wanted to stockpile everything for him, not just food, but security and self-confidence, a healthy body, a decent education, a house to live in. And no amount of self-deprivation would do any of that. She could starve herself until she was a skeleton, but that still wouldn't guarantee that Edward's belly would stay full.