Dream Walker (16 page)

“I know.” Her mom could barely whisper. “It was mine, as well.”

“
Ask her.
” A swell of emotion filled Aislen’s chest. She knew she couldn’t deny him...she couldn’t deny her own desire to know.

“Mom,” she said softly. “Tell me about the tea cups.”

Her mother dropped her head in her hands and began to cry in earnest. “Oh, Aislen! I don’t even know where to begin.”

Aislen put her arms around her mother and held her. “Begin at the beginning.”

Her mom shook her head.

“Please, Mom, I need to know,” she tried again.

Sabine lifted her head, dried her eyes, and finally said, “They came from your father.”

Aislen looked down at the shattered cup, then back up at the shelf lined neatly with the remaining twenty-one. Of course they did. The truth of it had been deep inside of her all along. “But, I don’t understand,” Aislen said.

“I know,” her mother sighed. “I’ve thought about telling you for so long, but thought it would be best to leave well enough alone. You never ask about him. Not once in your whole life have you ever questioned me about him. So I thought that if you acted like he never existed, it was best if I acted the same.”

“I always knew he
existed
. I just knew better than to speak of it. For your sake...well, maybe my own, too. It made me too angry to think about. And if I were to see you upset? Like this? It would have only made it worse.”

Her mom got off the floor and got the broom. Aislen got the dustpan and together they cleaned up the pieces. When Aislen went to throw the pieces in the garbage can, her mother stopped her.

“No, not there.” She went to a far cupboard and pulled out a square gift box. “Put it in here. It’s the box it came in.” She took off the lid, pulled out a folded piece of paper and held the box while Aislen put the remnants inside. Sabine took the box from Aislen and handed her the paper. “Have a seat. I’ll make us some coffee.”

Aislen went to the chair by the window and sat down, looking at the folded note in her hand.

“Go ahead and read it,” her mother said.

An unseen wraith embraced her again as she unfolded the note.

Love travels a straight line, from my heart to yours.

Distance, time, death cannot disrupt the connection.

Every drop of my love belongs to you and Aislen.

From across eternity,

Preston

Aislen looked at the thoughtful penmanship and his signature at the bottom, reading and rereading it while her mother took two cups and saucers carefully from the shelf, poured their coffee and dressed it with honey and cream. She brought them to the table, sat down and took a long sip from her cup.

“I was seventeen when I ran away from my family’s ranch in Utah,” she began. “They were devout Mormons, from a fundamentalist sect, and my father expected me to marry an uncle, which was a normal practice for them but was unacceptable to me. I attempted to run away once before, but my father caught me and whipped me with a leather belt until I passed out. Several weeks later, after I recovered, my mother slipped into my room with a couple hundred dollars she had stolen from my father’s wallet and helped me leave in the middle of the night. Her last words to me were, ‘Get far away and never look back.’”

Aislen sat wordless and spellbound. Her mother never spoke of her past. It had been an off-limits subject.

“I had it in my head that I could make it to California,” she continued. “That I could go to Hollywood, be ‘discovered’ and become an actress.” She laughed, shaking her head, and started again. “I made it as far as Modesto. When I got off the Greyhound, I had fifteen dollars left in my pocket. Not even enough for a ticket to Fresno, let alone a place to stay. I found a room at a fleabag motel and wandered around downtown until I came upon the diner. Fate was smiling on me, I guess, because there was a ‘Help Wanted’ sign in the window. The goal was that I would work at the diner just long enough to save money, then make the rest of the trip to L.A.

“I stayed at the motel with truck drivers and prostitutes for neighbors, paying by the day with the few tips I made. God, I was a terrible waitress. It was so busy and I could never keep track of who had ordered what and I think I spilt more coffee than what actually made it into the customers’ cups. I’d only been working there a month...when Preston walked in.” She stopped, looking wistful for a moment.

“I was struggling that morning—it was the worst day by far. I was so afraid that the owner was going to can me that day. Preston was sitting in a booth, in the corner. As the sun rose, the light poured in through the window behind him and radiated around him like a halo.

“I went over to take his order. He wasn’t much older than me, but he looked so tired, so worn out, he seemed twice his age. But underneath all that exhaustion, my God, he was so handsome. I thought my heart was going to explode.

“I pulled out all the stops for him. I gave him
both
the wrong order
and
I spilt his orange juice all over the table and into his lap. I began to panic. I tried to wipe up the mess with a cloth, but it just spread the juice around the table and spilt more of it onto his lap. I was about ready to burst into tears, when I looked up at him and found him smiling at me. He reached his hand out, placed it over the top of mine and said, ‘Shhhhhhhhhhhhh. Settle.’”

“Aislen, I cannot describe it. The world stopped turning. All the wrong that had been spinning through me for as long as I could remember stilled, and in that one moment, I fell into his eyes and rightness began spinning in the opposite direction. I guess that’s what they call love at first sight, right?” She looked up at Aislen, and then answered for her. “I know, dumb, huh?”

Aislen shook her head. The Aislen of yesterday would have said, “Hell yes, that’s dumb!” But the Aislen of today could not.

“I only knew Preston for a couple of months.
If that.
I would work the breakfast shift then walk over to the house he was staying at. He rented a room—really a basement—from an old lady a few blocks away from the diner. I had to sneak in from the outside staircase because she wouldn’t have approved of an unmarried couple shacking up in her house. She would have kicked him out and we’d both be homeless.

“We’d spend the afternoons in the dark of his room. He would make us coffee in an old percolator on the floor and we would share it from the only cup that he had. We would talk for hours, in hushed sounds, about my life growing up and my dreams. I would ask about his life, but he wouldn’t go there. He’d change the subject with a kiss, or turn it around into a question about me again. Sometimes I would hint about a future with us together, and he would just smile and hold me tighter. But after such conversations, he would get so quiet and seem so sad, I stopped talking like that.

“At night, we would venture out to forage for food at the corner grocery store, then we’d stroll over to the park and picnic under the stars. But, he was always looking over his shoulder, like something, or someone, was following him. I wondered if he was an escaped convict, or a runaway, like me, but when I’d ask, he would tell me not to worry and change the subject, make me laugh, or tell me how much he utterly adored me.”

Sabine stopped talking and looked out the window toward the tracks that led into the dark night.

“One day, he woke me up from a late afternoon nap...and told me that he had to leave.

“I was stunned. Devastated. I cried. I begged him not to go. I told him I loved him so much and would do anything if he would only stay.

“He took both my hands in his and brought them to his lips and looked me in the eyes, in that same way he looked at me in the diner, the way that stilled everything to a hush. It was like he went through me, holding me inside and out in an embrace that would never let go.” She faltered, her voice cracking with fresh emotion.

“Then he said, ‘I love you. Beyond time. And if I don’t leave—all that stops. For your sake...and for our baby’s, I have to leave. Now. Please forgive me.’ Then he got up and walked out the door.”

She looked at Aislen. “I didn’t know I was pregnant.”

Aislen couldn’t speak. Bile rose up inside her. She wanted to shout,
“How did he know? Why would he do that? Know that you are pregnant and just leave? Disappear forever?”
but she bit her tongue. She could see her mother was barely keeping it together.

Sabine got out of her chair, went back into the cupboard and pulled out another square box. She sat back down at the table with it and continued her story.

“He didn’t come back that night, or the next. He left a note with the landlady—with enough money to pay for me to stay at the house for another two months, on the condition that I was moved to an upstairs room. Surprisingly, she agreed; so I was able to move my few things from the motel. But a week before the rent was due, I was walking home from work and when I turned onto the street, there was a black sedan parked in front of the house. My heart leapt. I thought it was him coming back for me. But then I saw two men wearing dark suits leave the house, get into the car, and drive away.”

“When I got to the house, the landlady, who looked both petrified and furious, told me I had to leave—right then and there. She gave me ten minutes to gather my few things, handed me my mail and enough cash to get a room for the night. She told me she wouldn’t have the two-bit whore of a low-life thug living under her roof. She wouldn’t elaborate on who those men were, what they wanted, or what they told her. She told me she covered for me this time, but that if I didn’t leave, the next time they came back she was going to tell them all about me.

“I walked back to the diner in a stupor. I was confused and scared to death. I thought about going back to the motel, but then I looked through the mail she had given me. There was a thick envelope, postmarked from Mexico, and inside it was a thousand dollars in cash and a note from Preston that told me to get an apartment. I should have burned the money. For all I knew, it could have been stolen in a damn bank robbery or from some other criminal activity. But because I was pregnant, I did what the note said and got an apartment.

“Six months later, a package arrived at the apartment—postmarked from England.” She looked down at the box in front of her, then slid it across the table to Aislen. “Open it.”

Aislen took the lid off the box and pulled out a teacup, creamy yellow and blue, hand-painted with an art deco design with gold trim. She set it on the table. There was another crisp piece of folded paper, edges brown and cracked, resting inside the cup. Aislen carefully removed and unfolded it.

Please name her Aislen.

My love to you from across eternity,

Preston

“That was our cup,” Sabine explained. “And I went into labor later that night. You were born the next morning at sunrise.”

Aislen resisted the urge to smash the cup. “Why did you do it, Mom? Why would you do anything that he asked after what he did?”

“I don’t know how to answer that. It was something that was inside of me. The love that contained him was as real and tangible as you were in my arms. Of course, I grew angry. I was hurt, even bitter. But though I wished for it, the love I felt just wouldn’t roll over and turn into hatred.

“And every year...near your birthday...another box would arrive, with another teacup inside.” Her mom looked up at the shelves, the sacristy for the teacups.

“When you were four, he showed up on our doorstep—desperate to see you...
insistent.
He said he needed to rest his eyes on you, to touch you just once, to assure himself that you existed in the world. I tried not to allow it, but you were as persistent as he was.”

“I remember that,” Aislen said.

“You do? I’m surprised, and at the same time I’m not.”

Aislen wanted to tell her everything right then and there. About how she hadn’t remembered it at all until just the night before—about everything that had transpired throughout the day. It would be such a relief to get it off her chest. But the cold hand that had been gripping her all along, pushed against her chest, and she couldn’t find her voice.

“That was the last time I...
we
...ever saw him. An extra large box arrived at your birthday that year. Inside was the lotus teacup, with the note you read earlier...and $30,000 in cash. There was a second note stuck inside of the money that read, ‘Buy us a home.’”

Sabine looked around the house. “So I did.” She looked back out the window and didn’t speak for a long time. “I always thought he’d come back, you know? I thought that was what he meant by the ‘us’ in the note. But eventually, I realized the ‘us’ he was talking about was the part of him that was in you.”

She looked back at Aislen and smiled. “You look so much like him...your eyes are exactly the same. And the looks that pass across your face...sometimes it takes my breath away.”

Aislen didn’t know what to say. “I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry? Don’t be silly. You are the very best thing that ever happened to me.”