Don't Wake Me if I'm Dreaming (38 page)

“Glad you’re okay… from the accident.”

“I am now.”
Only if you knew.
I took a deep breath, sparing him the story.

I followed Jack to his truck, watching as he pulled the tailgate open. He dug around and removed a folded chair, opened it, and sat it behind the truck. “May as well enjoy our drink before heading down.”

“Thanks.” I took a seat as he hopped up on the tailgate and sat.

“Do you fish?” he asked, reaching for his fishing pole, setting it against the tailgate. 

“Suppose there’s a first time for everything.” I smiled, remembering his infamous line. “I think Vance brought an extra pole. Maybe you could teach me?” I glanced at Jack’s smiling eyes, but quickly shied away, too nervous to maintain eye contact. “I brought hiking shoes, though.” I wiggled my feet, showing him. “I’ve been getting into the whole hiking thing, hoping to brave rock climbing someday.”

Jack smiled big enough to flash his beautiful white teeth, showing his satisfaction.

I sipped from my beer to hide a devilish smile.

***

I
tucked myself into my tent after saying goodnight, although it was technically morning. Jack and I had stayed up until three in the morning making great conversation about all the stuff we had in common. I pulled my sleeping bag over my face and curled into a comfortable position waiting for sleep to find me.

***

“
W
ould you stop hogging the sheet!” I yank hard trying to reclaim what I rightfully thought should cover me.

“It’s not me, Charlie keeps trying to get under the sheet and he’s messing up the bed.” Jack sounds innocent enough.

I sit up, reaching for the lamp. Charlie is sprawled at the foot of the bed, covered in my side of the sheet. “Worthless dog. Get. Off. The. Bed.” I press my foot against his rump, directing him to the floor. He walks over to the dog bed with a groaning yawn and curls up next to Barkley.

“Just be glad they’re dogs and not children.” He laughs. “You’d have a hard time justifying the pile drive to the floor.”

“You’re lucky I don’t pile drive you to the floor.”

“That sounds kind of kinky.” He rolls onto his side sliding his hand under the sheet, seeking my body.

“I’m not in the mood.” I glance at him with a bitter face.

“Since when are you not in the mood?” His hand retracts slowly, but his lips twist into a questionable grin.

“Since I realized I’m late, Jack.”

“For what?”

I roll my eyes and pull the sheet over my head.

“Are… you?”

“I’m not happy about this.”

“Sasha!”

I grovel at just the thought of the word pregnant.

I don’t have to look to know my husband has a smile that could stretch from sea to shining damn sea if his face could stretch that far.

He is motionless, silent for a moment. “Did you dream about it?” He sits up ready to have a conversation I’m reluctant to share.

“You know I don’t like talking about my dreams.”

“Babe.” He reaches for my hand under the sheet, and I reluctantly let him wind our fingers together. “I understand. Believe me. I am so proud of you. It took a lot of courage for you to confide in me about your dreams. I still don’t profess to understand everything you and Doctor Chiaki explained to me, and you know I don’t need children to confirm our love. I couldn’t love you more if I tried, but I can’t say I’m unhappy about us having a baby. —Uh…do you…”

“Yes,” I say through gritted teeth. “I already know the gender and name.”

Jack springs to his knees in a swift movement and pulls the sheet uncovering my face. “Don’t be like this, babe. This is a life we’re talking about, our own creation.”

“I was happy with the dogs. I told you I didn’t want a child.”

He looks at the two sleeping boys before speaking. “Look how much I willingly compromised to please you. Marriage is about compromise and accepting whatever obstacles we face together. We can handle a child with ease.”

“Compromise? You gave up your home because you love this plantation, what else have you compromised?”

“Does happy wife happy life ring a bell?”

I pick up my pillow and playfully whack him with it. But the moment of glee is short lived. “She dreams like I do… sort of.”

“She?” He smiles, but moments later his mouth straightens out. “At what age?”

I swallow hard crossing my arms to my chest. “Fifteen.”

“Umm… What triggers them to start?” he asks with a new seriousness in his voice.

“Ugh.” I bite my lip to keep from laughing at Jack’s obvious discomfort. “Sure you’re ready for this?” I smirk.

About the Author:

J.E. Chaney grew up in Salem, Oregon, and currently resides in North Carolina with her family and two rescue dogs. She earned a BS of Communication through the University of Phoenix. Her interests are reading fiction, fantasy, mystery novels and writing. She also enjoys classical music, traveling, snow and water sports, gardening and entertaining friends and family.

Acknowledgements:

This tale was inspired by my sister’s will to wake and live

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