so close to hope

V

You're sitting at the kitchen table fully dressed when Roseanne and Lisa finally come downstairs for breakfast.

It's a Saturday morning and you usually like to sleep in -- and you know they do, too -- but you were too excited to laze around in bed. Lisa rubs her eyes and Roseanne bumps her hip with her own, giving her a little wink, and Lisa just presses her lips together.

Lisa starts making coffee and Roseanne sits across from you, smiling and resting her elbows on the table.

"You excited about your day with Lisa, then, Ami?"

You blush and look at your hands. Roseanne always sees right through you.

***

Roseanne rubs your head before she skips out the door, car keys jangling in her hand. She's meeting up with two of their friends from college, Jennie and Jisoo, who she apparently knew even before she met Lisa.

It's weird to think that Roseanne was once Lisa-less, and vice versa -- that there was a time when they made their way through the world without one another. They must have felt that something was missing, you think, because together, they fit so perfectly. They're complete.

You wonder if, one day, someone will look at you and be unable to imagine that there once was a time when Roseanne and Lisa weren't looking after you. That you felt something was missing. (You hope that person will think the three of you fit, too.)

But today, Roseanne is heading off on her own and you get Lisa all to yourself for the first time since Roseanne's trip.

***

By the time you finish lunch, you're exhausted, and by the looks of Lisa, she is too.

It's barely 1 o'clock and you've already gone bike-riding, drawn with sidewalk chalk, watered the garden (Lisa), and played in the sprinkler (you). So when Lisa brings your plates to the sink and asks if you want to watch TV, you happily agree.

One of the many things that you and Lisa have in common is that you both love history. You're fascinated by the thought of ancient people stepping right where you stepped, before there were buildings and pavement. You feel connected to them, somehow -- Roseanne says it's because you're an 'old soul' and you're not sure what that means, but you figure she must be right.

There's a show where people bring antiques they want to sell to a store in Las Vegas and they often bring experts in to talk about the item's history and tell the owners what it's worth. Roseanne thinks it's boring, so Lisa records it on the DVR, and that's what you decide to watch today.

Lisa rests her head on the arm of the couch and falls asleep before the first episode ends, but you don't mind. She did seem extra tried this morning, and you know her job has been busy because of that big grant.

After you start the second episode she shivers in her sleep and curls her knees up to her chest, so you tug the blanket off the back of the couch and lay it over her.

She smiles in her sleep and you turn back to the TV, but then Lisa whimpers and it makes you so nervous you hit pause. She's still asleep, but she looks worried -- her brow is furrowed, and every so often she flinches, like she's dodging an attack.

At first you just watch her with wide eyes. You're familiar with nightmares. Most of them are from before -- from your time with Papa -- and since you moved in here they've been happening less and less.

You know Lisa was in foster care once, too, but only because Roseanne told you. Lisa is pretty quiet about her past. You know she's close with a woman named Chaerin, who you think she lived with for a while. And there's her friend Haein, who she and Roseanne went to college with, but you think Lisa knew him from before. Back when she was Roseanne-less.

That's when you know what to do -- you have to bring Lisa back to the real world, where there's you and Roseanne and ice cream in the freezer.

The blanket has slipped down to her waist, so you reach out and gently grip her forearm. She stills but you can tell she's still there -- in the bad place -- so you scoot closer to her on the couch and tighten your grip, anchoring her.

"Lisa," you whisper. "Lisa. Wake up."

She jerks her head to the side -- wrestling against consciousness -- before her eyelids start to flutter, and then she's blinking into the light. You exhale a breath you didn't even know you were holding and squeeze her arm even tighter.

"Hey," she says, squinting at you. She looks at your hand then at the blanket, which is now sliding off the couch. It takes a moment for the furrow to leave her brow, but then she smiles. "Thanks for waking me."

***

"What were you dreaming about?"

Lisa pauses, spoon of ice cream halfway to her mouth. She finishes the bite and swallows before responding.

"It was an old one," she says, watching you carefully. "One I had since I was little."

You frown, because you knew it, and because it makes you sad.

"Were you alone?" you ask.

"Yes."

You think she might leave it at that and you focus on your ice cream, though you're not feeling very hungry, anymore.

"It doesn't make sense," Lisa says after a moment. "You know how dreams are." You nod, and she continues. "In it, I'm on a street with only one house -- and it's all black with broken windows, like a haunted house. And I'm too afraid to go in, but there's nowhere else to go."

You haven't had that dream before, but it's familiar just the same.

"What happens?"

Lisa smiles her sappy half-smile. "Roseanne usually wakes me up."

You grin at that, because you're proud to have stepped in for Roseanne. But then you remember.

"What about before Roseanne?"

Lisa takes a deep breath, like she's shouldering something heavy and doesn't want to pass it off to you.

"Who woke you up from yours before you came here?"

"Leo," you say, then you shrug. "No one."

The stitch is back between Lisa's brows, and her bottom lip juts out a bit. "Me too," she says. "Except Haein was my Leo."

She smiles at you, and you try your best to smile back. You're glad she had Haein, and that she trusts you enough to share these glimpses of her past.

Lisa stretches her arm across the table and rests her hand there, palm facing up. Your smile widens as you reach out to take it, squeezing her fingers.

"What are your nightmares about?"

You shake your head and look away. You don't want to think about them, and besides, "It doesn't matter," you say.

Lisa nods. "Well if you ever want to talk about them, I'm here."

"No, I mean..." You grip her hand and squeeze your eyes shut, moving the words in your mind to figure out how best to say it. "It doesn't matter because, since I came here, it's like waking up."

Lisa rises so quickly her chair nearly topples over. She walks to you and you stand, wrapping your arms around her waist and pressing your face into her sternum. Lisa sighs and hugs you close, and you know she understands.

All the things that used to torment you -- the loneliness, the nightmares -- they can't get you, here. Ever since you met Roseanne and Lisa it's like you've been wrestling with a bad dream, blinking into the morning light, and slowly coming into consciousness.

There's nothing to be afraid of. Not anymore.