Don't Wake Me if I'm Dreaming (12 page)

“My girlfriend wouldn’t have liked that much.’’

“Girlfriend? I didn’t realize—”

“Sorry, ex. She was very jealous and wouldn’t have been happy if I had.”

“Imagine that. Probably because you were noticing other women!”

“Not others, just you. You smelled really good, like a flower. I caught your scent and noticed you. It was innocent. I recognized it when you sat down earlier at the game, your perfume.”

“Well, I’ve seen you before, dozens of times.”

“You have?” He smiles, again. “You never said hello?”

“Hard when you’re out playing the field.”

“Playing the… oh, you’ve seen me play baseball?”

“Almost every home game and a few not so far away games, you’re good, Chuck’s better, though.”

“Ouch! Yeah, he is. He’s the first pitcher for the Durham Bulls now.”

“Impressive.”

“Do you play ball?”

“I played softball a few years, did track too, but dance and piano were my things.”

“A woman of many talents. I like that. So… I take it you’re not seeing anyone?” he asks.

“That depends.”

“On?”

“Whether or not you ask to see me again.”

His eyes light up. “You’re blushing.” He smiles.

“Perhaps a little.” I return the smile.

***

I
set the tablet and pen down on the nightstand. The sound of Matt’s laughter lingered, leaving more pain than before I began writing.

I quickly got up and hobbled to my closet. I had only one other method of escape, and would force myself from the chains weighing me down. I changed into gym clothes, wrapped my ankle tight, took a couple pain pills, and drank a small glass of water. I stretched a moment before forcing my feet into my tennis shoes and headed out the door. 

It was peaceful outside, slightly muggy, but bearable. I couldn’t recall the last time I was out and about in the middle of the night, alone, but I found the absence of others pacifying. A dark tabby cat loomed out of the darkness and followed me two blocks before realizing I wasn’t interested in his company. I glanced back to see him settling on the sidewalk under a streetlight, licking his paw while picking up my pace.

The impact of my shoe connecting to the pavement at a jog sent a jolt of pain into my ankle, leaving it throbbing. I pushed through it, determined to keep going, and did for miles. The pain slowly numbed away from the Vicodin. The mizzling of rain fell on my face, then within a matter of minutes the sky opened and poured, soaking me. It was cool and fresh against my skin. I continued jogging, afraid if I stopped, my ankle wouldn’t permit me to carry on. I jogged for almost an hour, never slowing my pace.

Eventually, the rain let up, and I found myself on Matt’s doorstep. I longed for his company, and despite the emptiness within his home, I knew I would find comfort there, or so I hoped.

I punched the code into the keypad and let myself in. The house was dark, with a dim cast coming from the hallway leading to Matt’s bedroom.

I stepped onto the sole of my throbbing foot, removing the soaked shoe, then removed the other shoe, and peeled off my drenched socks. I stripped, leaving my wet clothing piled in the doorway and then headed into Matt’s bedroom. It felt like satin clung to my feet with each careful, painful step. I realized I was walking on a bed of white rose petals. An eerie feeling of déjà vu engulfed me. I was living a dream, my dream, and without Matt.

Dozens of rose petals scattered across the floor. My vision instantly blurred as tears swelled. Each surface was covered with red roses and unlit candles. I remembered in my dream Matt headed into the bedroom, leaving me with a gift in the living room. I didn’t want to know if the box was out there. It was too much to swallow at once. I went into his closet and grabbed a long-sleeved shirt and pulled it on.

Avoiding a glimpse of the mess I’d see reflecting in the mirrors, I used the bathroom, and quenched my thirst with a glass of water. I wanted to call Doctor Chiaki and have her explain what was happening but had only enough energy to crawl into his bed and brush away the surrounding petals. I pulled the sheet over me and adjusted the pillow. I was afraid to lift it, to find a ring, but more afraid I would knock it off the bed and lose it. I reached under the pillow, but felt nothing and was content with that. I didn’t want to think about where it was, or think about anything else. I just wanted to close my eyes and dream about Matt, to be with him again. I rolled over, burying my face in the pillow and cried. Within minutes, my exhaustion caught up with me, easing me to sleep.

***

M
y face was still buried in the pillow when I woke. It took a moment to realize I was alone in Matt’s bed and hadn’t dreamt likely from exhaustion, or at least I didn’t remember if I did. I stepped down on the floor and nearly fell as my foot protested on contact. My ankle was black and fiercely swollen. I hobbled to the bathroom and showered then dug under the sink for a first-aid kit and found an ace bandage. After wrapping my ankle, I brushed my teeth, and found a pair of sweatpants.

I knew it was a matter of time before Matt’s parents would check on his house. Not wanting them to see the romantic setting, I hobbled around, vacuuming the rose petals and thoroughly tucked away all romantic evidence before heading into the living room gathering my damp clothing into a plastic bag. A gift box with a large satin bow sat on an armchair, as it had in my dream. I closed my eyes. “It’s not real
.”
But it was still there when I opened them.

I contemplated opening it, then grabbed it along with the bag of clothing and turned off the light.     

I knew Charles wouldn’t mind me driving Matt’s work truck. I figured if I parked it at home, it would get Matt’s parents away from him long enough to collect and return it, buying me time alone with Matt.

After returning home and cleaning up, I arrived at the hospital and stopped by the coffee shop on the first floor to order a bagel and coffee to go.

“You know, that stuff will rot your guts.” Charles nudged my arm, “Good morning, Sunshine.”

“Hi, how is he?” I couldn’t mask my concern.

His lips pulled tight. “Do you have a minute?”

“Uh sure, yeah, I’m just hanging with you guys for a while if that’s okay.”

He grabbed my order and I followed after him to a nearby table.

“I know this can’t be easy for you. Marlene felt guilty watching you leave last night. I’m sorry for that.”

“Don’t apologize, you’re his parents.”

He reached, taking my hand. “And you are the single most important person in that man’s life.”

“And he in mine.” The moment I said that my eyes seeped. I looked up, fighting back the tears, losing them the second I looked at Charles. “I just want him back.”

“I know, so do I… I want you to know we consider you family and want you here as often as you’d like. It’s how he’d want it, too.”

“Thank you… I have a little confession.” I glanced away guiltily. “It’s a long story, but the short version, I stayed at Matt’s house last night and drove his work truck home…. Sorry, I was hoping it would buy me a little alone time with Matt, assuming you guys would need to get it from my apartment.” I hoped he didn’t find me egocentric, that my needs to be with Matt where more important than his.

“Clever.” He smirked. “Text me your address and tell that woman to head on down to the car for some fresh air. I need to get her out of this place for a while. We’ll meet you this evening for dinner in the cafeteria?”

“I’d like that. And thank you. I just need a little time alone with him. I hope this doesn’t sound selfish, I just really miss him.”

“Don’t forget to eat your bagel.” He smiled the best he could and then headed to his car.

***

M
arlene greeted me in the door. “I think I need a breather. You’ve got it from here?” she asked.

“Yes, of course.”

She took the bagel and coffee from my hands and set them on the food tray.

“Thank you. I’m feeling a little debilitated.”

“The both of you are going to be the death of me.” She glanced at my wrapped ankle.

“I hope not. Uh, I almost forgot, Charles said he’ll be waiting for you in the car.”

She kissed my forehead, and then peered over at Matt for a moment before leaving the room.

A nurse with dark skin and long black hair pulled into a braid was changing Matt’s IV bag.

“I’m Lydia, you must be, Sasha? I was told to expect your company.”

“Nice meeting you. How is he?”

“He’s still in there fighting a hard battle. Would you like to lie next to him? I think you’d fit well at his side.”

My eyes lit up. “Of course. I would very much like that.”

“Let me give you a hand. Now remember, without these wires and tubes to support him, there will be no him to love so be careful not to get tangled up. There’s a call button on his other side, push it and we’ll come and help you down.” She pointed to the nurse call button on the railing.

I stood my crutches against the wall then worked my way around his bed.

“Do you want to eat that first? I could come back in five minutes.”

I shook my head no, too excited to care about eating.

“Easy does it now.” She moved one of the monitors slightly aside, then pulled down the railing and helped me climb to his side. The railing was pulled up, securing me. “I’ll be back in to check on you in a bit.”

“Thank you,” I whispered as she left the room.

I didn’t know where to place my hands, fearing it would cause him discomfort, so I kept them at my sides and lay partially on my back, pressed against the railing. Comfort was the least of my worries; I just wanted to be close to him and feel his warmth. I traced my nose gently against his neck. His natural scent was replaced by the sterol smells of septic body wash and plastic tubing. His pigment now peeked on the yellow side. He looked fragile, broken, covered in bruises and sutures.

I carefully kissed his cheek, resting my head tenderly against his shoulder. “I love you,” I whispered.

I had no clue if he could hear me if my words could bring him comfort, but I spoke softly near his ear, wanting him to know I was with him. “I slept in your bed last night. I could smell you, your fragrance. It brought me much needed comfort. You did such a beautiful job with the roses.” I felt a tear roll down my cheek and took a moment to steady my breathing, not to cry. “I know you forgive me. I just wish I could hear the words, to know how you feel, that you’re no longer peeved at me. I feel like everything’s my fault. The reason you lay here is my fault. If I had just seen it was you driving in my dream, none of this would’ve ever happened.” I nuzzled my face against him, missing his smell, his touch, wishing I could hear him laugh and tell me he loved me. “Please don’t give up fighting. I want you to stay.”

T
wo weeks had passed since the accident. I returned to work, but nothing was the same, I wasn’t the same. Matt would visit me in my dreams. At first, I would enjoy his laughter, his scent, and the warmth of his touch. Everything felt so real, and I wanted nothing more than to sleep and be with him, as the alternative was to sit by his side, helplessly wondering when he’d return. The happiness dwindled to sorrow as everything twisted into nightmares. They would leave me standing next to his nearly lifeless body, completely helpless. I was able to foresee his future that would soon no longer exist. I witnessed his death, his memorial, his parent’s pain every night in my sleep. Even though I slept fitfully most nights, I couldn’t force myself to take a sleeping pill to drown him out, not even for a decent night’s sleep. I had hoped there was a way to change it. That I would be able to find him again and convince him to stay, that I could communicate with him in my dreams, and beg him to return to me, to this life.

I suffered an unfathomable amount of pain, knowing that I dreamed of the accident, and nothing I could do would remove the memory or undo what I had seen in his last moments. It was him in the accident that ran the red light. I had dreamt it enough times that I blamed myself for not seeing it was always him. I loathed myself for not paying attention to my dreams, for not seeing the signs. Knowing this filled me with intolerable guilt. My suffering destroyed me and showed externally.

My coworkers eventually stopped asking about Matt, with the exception of Martha, who always said she was still pulling for him to win this battle, and would ask to send him her best. The nurses continued encouraging me not to lose hope, hoping and praying for the best, despite their uncertainties, they were fervently optimistic in their words.              

Matt needed a feeding tube and a couple of surgeries to sustain less than a quality of life. I continued to visit him each night after work, but the Matt I once knew and loved was gone. I knew it in my heart he wouldn’t return.                                                                             

On a Friday evening a few weeks after the accident, I received a phone call from Marlene asking me to visit her sometime in the morning. Her voice suggested she was rattled, but she kept the conversation minimal.

I did as she asked and showed up first thing not allowing myself to speculate her intent. Charles explained he had errands to tend to, and left Marlene and me to talk. His momentary presence was vacant. I now expected the worst.

“Let’s go into the kitchen. I’ll fetch you some sweet tea.” I followed Marlene then took a seat at the table. “You are so strong, Sasha, I admire your strength and appreciate your support and care for Matt.”

“It hurts so much. It hurts to breathe.” I looked away trying not to cry.

“I know it does. Love can be as painful as it is beautiful.” She set a small tea tray on the table, then handed me a cup. “Help yourself.” She smiled, but her face drained of sincerity.

I anxiously poured, not intending to drink. I wanted her to explain the need for my visit. I knew her words would confirm my fears.

“We talked with Doctor Fong last night. He explained Matt’s MRI shows regression rather than improvement. He’s not—” She took a deep breath attempting to hold it together.

I stared at her blankly with a jaw too tight to permit words.

Her hazel-green eyes were glazed and shallow with dark circles; she looked unkempt, and her voice was weak. I gave her the moment of silence she clearly needed to collect her thoughts. She sat down next to me and reached for my hand. Her grip was cold and weak.

“I’m so sorry, Sasha, but nothing more can be done to help him. We have to let him go now.” She looked down at the table. Her eyes clouded, as if the words mentally abolished her.

I stared at her a long moment, still unable to speak or move. My throat was dry, and my chest was tight. The ticking of the clock echoed in the long silence.

Her mouth moved, spilling emotionless words. “Charles is making arrangements. Matt wished to be a donor, so we’ll say goodbye soon.”

We sat quietly, neither of us touching our tea, neither moving, we just sat, knowing at any moment, our physiological equilibrium would spill over, spinning our worlds out of our control.

The phone rang. Marlene glimpsed warily at it, terrified of worse news. On the fourth ring, she stood, answering it.

“Hello?” Her voice was a breath, followed by silence. The phone slid from her hand, dangling from the cord, as she reached covering her mouth. She leaned against the wall, sliding down into a crouch on the floor and released a howling breath of anguish.

I sat stiffly, trying to decide what happened, then plunged for the phone, expecting the worst.

“This is Sasha.”

“Sasha, it’s Chuck. What happened to Marlene?”

I stared at her a few seconds. “We’re heading to the hospital. I need you to meet us there. I’m sorry, Chuck. I’ve got to go.” I didn’t want to rehash the moment’s events with him, especially with Marlene this fragile.

I quickly hung up and rushed next to her side on the floor, placing my arm around her. She leaned her head against mine as she worked to control her breathing, finally relaxing after a moment. “I don’t want to pretend to be strong anymore.”

I wanted to comfort her, so I began talking, allowing whatever words that surfaced to escape.

“So don’t. We never know when our time here will come to an end, it just does. I learned this when my mom died. Her friend read a quote at her memorial service by Washington Irving, ‘There is sacredness in tears. They are not the mark of weakness, but of power. They speak more eloquently than ten thousand tongues. They are the messengers of overwhelming grief, of deep contrition, and of unspeakable love.’ —I learned at that moment there was no shame in crying, in grieving my loss, no reason to hold it in… I’ve cried more over the last few weeks than in my whole life. I too have no desire to be strong. It’s been effortless loving Matt. You’ve always known that, and I felt that shortly after we met. I figured any man that loved their momma as much as he did would be a good catch, and worth every tear.”

Marlene shared a soft, subtle laugh.

“He would have wanted and needed for nothing more in life, I would have ensured he had everything. He was happy and loved his life from the start, the life you gave him. So cry because it hurts letting him go, but not because he went without. He was robbed of time, never happiness.”

She extended her arm and hugged me close to her. “You are wise beyond your years, and possibly the strongest woman I’ve ever known.”

“I’m such a mess right now,” I confessed.

“I would be concerned if you weren’t.” She smiled feebly. “Mattie had something he wanted to give you, and I’m so sorry he didn’t have the chance.” She pushed herself to her feet then took my hands, pulling me to mine. I followed her into the living room, and then sat on the edge of the sofa. She collected a small wooden keepsake box from the fireplace mantel. I recognized a painting that hung above where the box was placed. It was a large canvas painting of a sailboat on the water.

“Was that painting at the lake house?”

“It was. Mattie painted that in high school. I’m not sure art was his strength, but I adored his effort all the same.” She was nostalgic in thought for a moment then turned to smile at me. It was possibly the saddest smile I’d ever seen.

“I bet he was proud to see it on the wall.”

“Of course.” She opened the box and took out a ring. “This was in his slacks pocket when I collected his belongings from the hospital. It belonged to my mother Olivia, and she wore it until the day she died, leaving it for Mattie. She was absolutely crazy about him. Her and my dad, Harold, had fifty-two blessed years together, and she said it would bring him as much luck, love, and happiness.” She looked at the ring, and then took a ragged breath. “I could never wear it if I wanted to, and it’s too painful keeping it. It belongs to you now. You’re the closest we have to a daughter and Charles and I both think you should have it. We don’t expect you to wear it, but all the same, it’s yours now.” She held out her hand, placing the ring in mine.

“I…”

“Keep it as a reminder that you were loved more than you’ll ever know.”

Now it was my turn to cry, and I did just that. I couldn’t hold it in any longer. “What am I going to do without him?” I tried looking at the ring, but couldn’t see through the tears.

She shook her head, tears flowing from her eyes. “You will find your strength, and a new journey will begin. There are others out there wanting to love a woman like you, and when you’re ready, find the one that brings out the best in you.”                                                                     

Almost every member of the fire department filled the waiting room, along with a few guys from the construction company and a few others of Matt’s close friends and family members. The nurses were in the room cleaning Matt up when I looked in through the door. Chuck stood just inside Matt’s room looking down at the floor. His leather shoes had discoloration marks from his tears. I reached, grabbing his hand, not wanting to see his face. Before I had the chance to speak, he wrapped his arms around me and began bawling harder, huffing air with each breath.

“Come on,” I said quietly, leading him from the room.

We headed into the chapel room where a few people sat praying, but I didn’t bother to see whom.

Chuck sat down on a pew, and removed his hat, sitting it on his knee. I sat next to him, placing my head on his shoulder, and sat in silence for a few minutes before speaking. “Don’t leave me here alone. I need you to help me get through this,” I whispered.

He wiped his face on his sleeve. “I wouldn’t dream of it.” He sniffed.

I reached for the box of tissue on the pew in front of us, then handed him a few tissues.

“Did Marlene tell you about the ring?” he asked.

I lifted my hand enough for him to see it on my right-hand finger.

“I was going to be his best man, not his pallbearer.” He blew his nose. “How are we going to do life without him?” he whispered.

“I don’t know, Chuck. I don’t know.” I closed my eyes and cuddled deep into his side. I felt an immense amount of comfort from his presence, and I was confident the feeling was mutual.

“He told me a week after you met, you were the one he’d marry someday. It wasn’t even a question in his mind. He was insanely crazy about you.”

“He was crazy about both of us. You’ve always been his favorite person on earth.” We sat in silence for a while, neither wanting to move, knowing what awaited us.

“Well, shit, we better get in there.” He sniffed.

“Please stay with me in there. I can’t do this alone!” I began feeling panicked as he stood.

“I promise, I will.”

We waited for the last few people to leave the room then entered. The blind was drawn open, allowing the sunlight to shine on Matt. He looked peaceful.

“Do you think he’s still in there?” Chuck whispered, looking at Matt.

“Not really. I think he’s somewhere in between here and his next destination,” I explained.

“Heaven.” His eyebrows frowned. “He believed in God.”

“Well, wherever he may be, they are lucky to have him.” I sloped down and kissed Matt’s cheek, allowing my lips to linger a moment. “I’ll love you as long as I live.” I whispered and then covered my mouth, knowing I’d never see him again.