Something To Dream On (41 page)

The sky is a deep blue, partially obscured by clouds. Jensen and I lie curled under a tree as I rest in his arms. It gives me the same peace I used to find in my old dream. It is the peace of heaven on earth.

A girl with long, dark brown hair dashes toward us. Dark brown? That’s perfect.

Laura runs past and into the distance without even nodding at our presence. Suddenly she stops, throws her arms to the sky, and smiles. “Come get me!” she screams to Heaven. A rainbow of light beams down and draws her up.

I wake just long enough to smile and nuzzle deeper into Jensen’s arms. My dream came true, and so will Laura’s. She is going to be just fine.

The sky is a deep blue, partially obscured by clouds. Lizetta and I lie curled under a tree as she rests in my arms. This is the way life is supposed to be for us—pleasant, peaceful, and free of troubles.

A figure with deep brown hair dashes past.

Laura? Her hair isn’t brown, but wasn’t that her?

My eyes follow as she runs into the distance. Suddenly she stops, throws her arms to the sky, and smiles. “Come get me!” she screams to Heaven. A rainbow of light beams down and draws her up.

I wake to find Lizetta tucked in my arms and a scent of change in the air. Something has happened. Oh God, did Laura die?

I kiss my angel on the forehead and head off to the kitchen for some water. The last I saw Laura, she looked like she was hitting bottom. I told her to go away before she even reached the top of the steps. I haven’t heard a peep from her since. Did she finally get the hint or did—

How would I find out if she died? Would Larry call me? Would he even notice if she was dead on the sofa? Do I call? If she died, someone should show they care.

No. Stop right there.

If she is dead, there is nothing I can do. If she is alive, the last thing I need is to stir the pot.

But if she’s dead, I killed her by rejecting her.

No, I am not her keeper. Laura put herself at risk. I am not responsible for her actions. I need to be free of her.

Back in bed, I tuck Lizetta into my arms. This is all I need to do right now, except …

It pains me to think that to fully be rid of Laura, I can’t even pray for her. How can I find freedom yet not feel like I have forsaken her?

“Lord, please watch over the people of this earth. Keep them from harm, and guide them to make good decisions. When we fall, help us find salvation—no matter who we are or what we have done.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

Sunday, May 27

I feel like a dork—a nervous, thrilled, dapper dork, but a dork nonetheless. Who wears a tuxedo to a park? Is it me, or is it unseasonably hot? I’m already melting, and I haven't even left my apartment.

I catch one last look in the bedroom mirror. Damn, that Bond guy’s got nothing on me. Yeah, a tux in the park may be lame, but I look smoking.

Even if I looked like a damn fool, I wouldn't complain. This is the one indulgence Lizetta requested. She cast aside an extravagant reception space, live music, and elaborate flowers for an afternoon wedding in the park. However, she was adamant when it came to the attire. “I’ll sacrifice a lot so I can get my business going, but it’ll cheese my bacon if we look like hippies. Mom and I are going to crank out the greatest dress ever made, so there's no way in lollipops you guys are going to look like slouches!”

I just love her vibrant jargon!

With a spin, I check out my tails. Yeah, this totally works on me. A swipe and a toss land Bertha’s keys in my hand and I start to head out.
 

Wait a minute. I'm not the one driving. Paul is picking me up. My keys get tossed onto the coffee table and my butt onto the sofa. “I’m forgetting something else. What is it I'm supposed to bring?” I loosen my collar that I swear is trying to suffocate me. “Man, heat stroke must be setting in.”
 

Etta clears her throat. It’s a face-palm moment. Idiot! I have got to relax. “Don't worry, Etta. I would never forget you.” She cocks her head. I don't blame her. I would not believe me either. I’ve been a master at tripping over my feet all morning.

Etta changes her posture so that she is standing with her feet firmly centered; yet her ears stay down. Something is wrong, but she's not sure what. Her eyes go to the door, and then back to me. Her bark is a question that asks to explain whatever is coming up the stairs. It's probably my best man. My nearly forgetting Etta is exactly the reason why I’m not driving.

I am shocked to find a beautiful girl that locks my heart in my throat—a girl with silky, deep brown hair, sparkling eyes accented by a smidgen of makeup, and a trim, yet healthy, figure. Before me stands Laura Muler—not the infamous thorn in my side, but the beautiful person she is capable of being. My lids flicker in disbelief. I can't stop “Wow” from escaping my lips. The weight of the world flies off in discovering that she is alive and apparently well.

“I see you still can't resist looking at the beauty that is me. Are you really sure you want to get married today?”

What? How did she know? My eyes move past the beautiful body and onto the bag she grips. It's overflowing with white tissue and ribbon. “Here,” she says, handing it to me. “Technically, it's a wedding present, but you and I both know it's really a thank you gift. And relax, I know your mind just went into the gutter, but this is something off of your registry.”

“Thank you? For what?” Inviting her in would be the proper thing to do, but the last thing I need is Laura proving she is still her old self. With my luck, Lizetta will walk in. Instead of getting married today, I'll get buried.

Laura leans against the threshold, crossing her legs at the ankles and tilting her head in a cute way that reeks of trouble. The thing is, with her soft blue dress, that is of respectable length and covers all but the smallest amount of cleavage, she looks rather … dare I say, adorable?

“Come on, person whose life I changed. We both know what that means, and it's not as sweet as one would normally take it. I will always be grateful for what you did. It worked! It really worked. Of course, I'm sure you know that, as you probably get reports from my boss.”

Laura has given me some puzzle pieces before but, “What are you talking about? And how do you know I am getting married today?”

She touches my cheek. “That's really cute. Don't ever change, okay? Tom left the wedding announcement on his desk. That's when I became certain that it was you who put me through rehab. After all the pain I caused Lizetta, how you got her to let Tom give me a job is a miracle of its own. Anyway, it's a long drive back to Red Bluff, and I don't want to be seen around here. No one knows where to find me, and it needs to stay that way.”

She gives me a sweet kiss on the cheek, but in true Laura fashion it lingers. “I’ll always love you,” gets breathlessly whispered into my ear. She then leaves so quickly that I can't even catch the expression on her face.

What if instead of bringing Jensen a rig, I had brought him a mirror so he could have seen his reflection? Would he have changed, or did it take getting jabbed?

I admire the hell out of that man. He picked himself up out of the rubble and built a castle. I may have needed a lot of help, but I’m getting there, too. Someday I’ll find someone who will only know the person I am becoming, and that is way better than being with someone who I danced through hell with. There is a reason why I signed the gift card by my birth name, even though I don’t go by it anymore. Laura’s past is with him. Now I’m off to create a past of my own—one that I am not ashamed of.

I'm left standing like a schmuck. What the hell was that about? Paul has a brother named Tom in Red Bluff. If she's working for Tom, then someone in Lizetta’s family is behind this.

What pain did she cause Lizetta? How do they know each other?
What
do they know about each other, and why has my future wife kept that little tidbit from me? I sure as hell am going to find out.

This whole thing reeks of Paul. Why wouldn’t he tell me what he was doing? Didn’t he know that I know her? Maybe he found out about the situation and wanted to ensure his daughter’s rival disappeared. Did he think that Laura was a threat, or was he just continuing to star in his role as savior?

Paul pulls into the driveway and gets out of his car as Laura gets into hers. Eye contact is made, yet they go about their business like strangers. When Paul makes it up the steps, he watches Laura drive off. He's not wearing his tuxedo jacket or bow tie yet. Again, Paul is the sensible one. I'm so hot in this thing I’m about to melt all over the pavement. “Who is that little cutie?” he asks.

Now I'm in the shitty position of having to respect privacy. However, that's my ex-girlfriend and this is my future father-in-law. No one can fault me for asking. “How do you know her?”

Paul stares as if she is still there and he wouldn’t mind watching a little more. “Her? Never seen her before in my life. A better question is, how does the man who is about to marry my daughter know her?”

“Really, Paul? I respect the whole confidentiality thing, but can you at least dodge a bit so I get a little of the picture?”

His putting his hand to my forehead reminds me of when I was a kid and Mom worried about my temperature. “Wedding jitters have gotten to you something bad. Take off that jacket and cool down. Don’t you have a lick of sense in you?”

“She’s my ex, and she works for your brother.”

“Tom?”

“That's the only one I know of. Someone anonymously put her through rehab.” Paul purses his lips together. “You ready to confess?”

I get a signature, double pat on the back. “You need to talk to Lizzie about that one.”

“No kidding! How the hell does Lizetta—”

Now Paul’s face is square in mine with his hands weighing down my shoulders. “You are about to marry a selfless woman. All those weight issues my daughter has, that girl who just left here is the source of them. For decades, she damn near ruined my daughter’s self-esteem; yet when Lizzie found out all the reasons why, she sacrificed to help her and worked with Tom and me for a solution. Laura is why Lizzie never bought that fancy dress she was hell bent to get on the day of her accident. The rest you will need to talk to your wife about, if you choose to ask her. As far as I'm concerned, this conversation didn't happen. Got that? Lizzie not only helped that girl get her wings, she tossed her into the air and got her flying.”