The Dreamer

Chapter 18

Sarah lay in bed, her eyes lost in the ceiling. After the bath she took last night, sleep came easily, brining a restful relief. She looked at the time in her phone. 8:40? It was one more of those unusual days when her body gave her extra rest, much needed extra rest. She sat on bed and looked at the yellow notebook sitting in her nightstand. Did I dream something? She did dream. What was it? Guess it's gone. Maybe it wasn't as significant as the previous one. Only one memory stayed in her mind, she was holding the petals of a rose and her fingers were bleeding. For some reason, the memory felt extremely painful. Her chest felt hollow and her skin went cold just to remember the rose. Weird!

She forced herself out of bed and headed to the kitchen. She opened the overhead cabinet and looked for the bread. Maybe I'll try something else today. She put the bread back in place and when to the refrigerator. She opened the door, leaned forward and grabbed a couple of eggs and the butter. Then she opened another cabinet and pulled the flour. It's a day for homemade pancakes.

Half an hour later she degusted butter pancakes and scrambled eggs, accompanied by freshly made orange juice. She took a sip of her juice. It was sweet, not a trace of sour. She was aware her mind kept going back to her mom. Stop it already. But no matter how much self talk she used, her mind was a step ahead. The slap felt still fresh and warm in her skin. But the dream that led to her meeting was at the front seat. You know what you need to do. And if you don't do it, you will be pushed. She knew it was time she took the next step, or it will happen either way. The sudden though filled her with a combination of dread and excitement. Should I?

She looked at the time; it was close to 9:30. It's Sunday morning, maybe I will get a chance to talk to her. Besides what else is there to do here and what can I lose? The excitement overtook her body. Humming, she put the empty plates on the sink and bouncing she grabbed her keys and skipped her way out the door. She turned on the radio and made her way around town. She turned on her GPS. In the amount of years she hadn't driven that way, a lot could have changed, from road closures to new routes. Better not to risk it.

The day was sunny and traffic felt effortless, nonetheless, Sarah felt her chest heavy, her heartbeat increasing as the distance decreased, her skin cold. She sang whatever came up in the radio, or hummed it, or at the least minimal just shook her head to the rhythm. Nothing helped. Nothing distracted her from the fact that she was about to face her daughter again. Will she hate me? Will she love me? Her thoughts went back and forth over and over until she saw the familiar streets of Albany.

Oh God, I am here. She drove into town for few miles and turned following the instructions of the GPS, right, left, right again, straight ahead. Her heart thundered as she got closer and closer to her destination. What if they moved? What if the house looks different and I miss it? For years, the child support money had been automatically deducted from her account, but now she wished she could have delivered the check in person. It would make things much easier. She would feel familiar with the neighborhood.

She stopped where the GPS dictated. Sarah looked at the screen and then outside the window. The orange walls didn't feel familiar, and the garden at the front was new. It was still a two stories house. The porch was still the same. She looked up at where Jessica window used to be. Was it still there? She tried to see through the glass, what color had she painted her walls as a teenager? What kind of posters hung in the wall? What if this wasn't Jessica's room but rather some random person living in the house now. Only one way to know!

She stepped out of the car and intended to make her way to the door, but her feet weren't locked in place. Her heart was still thundering. She could feel the perspiration under her shirt. It wasn't too late to turn around and drive back home. The front door opened and a man stepped outside. Sarah turned in her spot and faced the street. She was parking in the street. It was a free space; nobody would approach her. She took a deep breath and felt her heartbeat relaxing in the exhale. In the periphery of her eye she saw a man walking towards her. As he got closed, her body shivered more and more, until the man walked by her side. He crossed the street and got in a white van that had a drawing of some tools, a phone number, and the name of a plumbing business.