“You forgot this.” She touched my hand before holding out the cup.
Her skin was cool against mine, and I wanted to pull her against my chest. Memorize the feel of her body, take a deep inhale of her hair so I knew her scent. I wanted to watch her as I drove deep between her thighs, see how the light changed in those beautiful eyes. I wanted to hear the sounds she made when she came.
But it was more than sexual desire I felt. Her touch, the sound of her voice, did something to me. It filled my head with images of morning light breaking over her skin. Time passing in her arms. Her stomach round with my baby.
Jesus. It was coming off the fucking drugs is what it was. I needed to get out of here, to Uncle Bill’s. If I couldn’t get it together there, none of this mattered. Besides, I didn’t know anything about this woman. Correction, this girl. Up close, I could tell she was at least ten years younger than me.
“Thanks,” I
said and pushed through the door.
Scene 2: Where the Wind Blows
Mariska
Pain. Burning. Explosions. All around me is confusion and yelling. The bright beige of the desert contrasts sharply against the dark green and brown of the armored vehicles, and figures in white robes and sand-colored fatigues rush by without stopping.
I can’t control what’s happening, but I’ve got to complete this mission. I’ve got to get him to safety. Someone grabs my arms and drags me roughly away. A whistle grows louder from above, then BOOM!
We’re all lifted a foot off the ground then slammed back again…
* * *
Gasping, I sat straight up in the bed and stared into the darkness of my bedroom. What the hell was that?
I’d had vivid dreams since I was a little girl. My Yaya said it was because I was more sensitive than others, and she liked to note that I dreamed in color. Very unusual.
Still, all my dreams were about me—a solution to a problem or a premonition of something coming. Nothing in my life was like the images I’d just seen. My body shook, and my heart beat too fast. I was afraid. My dreams never scared me. I could control them because they were mine.
Only… this dream wasn’t mine.
My grandmother also taught me to keep a dream journal. She said it would help me understand when the events came to pass. I just had to write them down and wait.
She’d taught me to read coffee grounds in the old Turkish style and to detect auras. She would smile and say everything was connected. If I paid attention, I’d see how. Thinking of her calmed my frayed nerves. I missed her so much.
Reaching for the notepad I kept on my bedside table, I quickly jotted down everything I could remember from the brief nightmare. By the time I’d finished recording as many details as I could, my eyes had grown heavy again.
Curling onto my side, I looked up at the window over my bed. From this angle, I could see the night sky. It was clear, and a million stars blanketed it. Since she’d passed, stars always made me think of Yaya. They were mystical and magical. They held secrets, and if you could read them, they gave answers. They granted wishes…
Tonight, however, was different. Tonight, I thought of him. He’d said he was going west, somewhere to find peace. A streak of white, and a star shot past. I closed my eyes and made a quiet wish. Then I imagined him under a sky filled with stars just like the one outside my window.
One week later in Great Falls, Montana…
Reality slammed into me like a thousand-pound medicine ball. What the hell was I doing here? It was like I’d had some moment of pure, one-hundred percent, temporary insanity! I’d cashed in all my frequent flyer miles, traveled halfway across the country… to do what?
Stand around and lie to everybody, apparently.
My hands were clammy and I could barely breathe. I was going to see him again in less than an hour. If Elaine hadn’t been gripping my arm as we strode out to Patrick’s pick-up, I would have turned and run all the way back to the ticket counter and taken the first flight home.
She was so pretty in faded blue jeans and a grey cowl-neck sweater. Her long blonde hair was over one shoulder, and of course, she had on cowboy boots. Patrick was handsome as always, and the only saving grace was they were too busy touching each other and swapping innuendo to notice how badly I was freaking out. They put me in the tiny backseat of the extended cab, and we headed out on some lonely road into what looked like the middle of nowhere.
Great. This was just great. With each passing mile, I was getting further and further from any way out of the mess I’d created. I was rapidly moving toward complete and total humiliation. My stomach was so tight, it was very possible I’d throw up before the night ended.
Elaine took a break from touching her fiancé to turn and smile at me. “Do you like horses, Mariska?”
“Sure.” My voice cracked, and I looked down at my trembling hands clutched in my lap. “I-I hope you don’t mind me tagging along for the holiday.”
“No way! Friends are always welcome.” Patrick was so easygoing, I completely understood why he drove Kenny crazy—and why she called him her big brother. “The house is huge, and my uncle is going to love you.”