“Who?”
I looked at her with a ‘duh’ look on my face. “The star in all of my dreams.” She took a sip from the tea. “His eyes were deep black with a sliver of purple.”
“Oh, you still have those dreams?” She didn’t lift her eyes from her cup.
“What else would I be talking about?”
“Pick from the hat.” She used her cup as a prop. “You’ve always had weird dreams.”
“Not always.”
Shannon stayed with me so I could try to go back to sleep.
After what felt like an eternity, I was dreaming a pleasant dream.
A girl was sitting on a red and white picnic blanket with the man from the previous nightmare. The girl didn’t physically look like me, but somehow, I knew she was me from a different time. The girl wore a simple, white cotton dress. A thin, brown belt was tied around her waist. He wore a light-yellow button up shirt. The top four buttons were unbuttoned. His pants were made of plain, white cotton like her dress.
Sitting in a familiar field, the couple was surrounded by deep purple azaleas and my favorite, Queen of the Night orchids. The orchids leisurely bloomed into beautiful white petals. Their dreamy fragrance lifted high into the heavens. The sweet, floral scent overwhelmed my senses. The flowers seemed to take on a life of their own; swaying back and forth, as if breathing. The atmosphere was calm and carefree. The two talked about nothing and laughed. He had one arm snuggled around her hips. Leaning into her, he whispered into her ear. She giggled and teasingly pulled away with flushed cheeks. He picked a flower and softly ran it down her arm as he kissed her neck, measurably moving his lips toward her chin. A slight moan escaped, simultaneously from their lips.
Four
The morning came too soon, ripping me from such pleasantries. I enjoyed a moment of blessed relaxation as I remembered the quiet couple in the field. I wanted that fantasy to be my reality.
A rapping came from my bedroom door. “Sis, are you up? Breakfast is ready.”
Ugh, breakfast, I forgot, I thought as I pulled my plush comforter over my head. Actually, I forgot they were here at all. “Comin’.”
“We are at the table waiting.”
I reluctantly joined Shannon and Jake. “Morning,” I whispered, filling my plate.
“Good morning,” they replied.
The next few minutes were encased in awkward silence.
“Vessi, how have you been?” Shannon asked.
“Good. You?” The tension in the air was thick.
“I have been good, really good.”
“Good, good.”
“Yeah. It is.” Shannon shoved a strawberry into her already full mouth.
Placing my fork on the table, I asked one of the many questions cluttering my curiosity. “Where have you been all these years?”
“New Orleans.”
My face turned to stone. “Oh? Didn’t you like it?”
“It was okay.” Short answers as usual. I would have to pry harder.
“Why come back?”
“I really wanted to come back home.” Her face softened; her tone more sincere.
I looked much like Shannon except I was about thirty pounds lighter. We had the same rounded face and pale skin with rosy cheeks. We had almost the same natural hair color, sandy-blonde, but mine had dark red tones that were brought out by the sun. She dyed her locks a different color every few weeks. I was happy with my hair and would never change it. Besides, people spend a small fortune trying to get this color. Why would I want to give that up for a bottle of formaldehyde?
“Why,” I pressed.
“I’ve missed you. I’ve missed being here.”
“I see.” I could read between the lines. She missed Mom.
“I thought I could get a job and help you out with bills. I can’t imagine working at the Night Owl brings the money rolling in.”
“I do just fine,” I retorted. Staring her down, I added, “Besides, Myra is moving in with me next week.” That last statement was a little white lie, but I knew Myra would have no problem going along with it.
Staring back, her expression was sad and regretful. “Look, I know I was wrong leaving you like that.”
“Oh, yeah?” The staring war was getting intense, but I wasn’t going to lose to my sister.
“I’ve been seeing a counselor.” Her cocky head tilt told me that she wasn’t going to give up easily, either.
“Is that a fact?”
“Yes, it is.”
I didn’t say anything in response, but she could see the doubt in my face. I wasn't convinced, or maybe I didn’t care. My sister tended to say one thing then do another. She was famous for that.
“I actually have been working on my issues. I’m so sorry. I should’ve stayed.” I found it hard to believe her, little lone conjure up sympathy. Shannon had no qualms about lying. She seemed sincere, but she was famous for her manipulation techniques. She made believing her extremely difficult.
“Why’ve you been seeing a counselor?” I was very confused, not only because she saw a counselor, but also because she was admitting it. Shannon never admitted to fault, shame or guilt. Not that talking to a professional is a problem in my book, but she had always thought it was a pointless waste of time and money.
“I came to a realization that I do tend to run from problems.” She threw up a hand to stop my sarcasm over the obvious. “I was so ashamed of myself that I couldn’t bring myself to contact you.” Her voice was soft. “I went into a deep depression. When I met Jake, he helped me realize what I was doing to myself and
