Dream a Little Dream

  "But they found each other at the end."

  "I guess."

  She knew her answer hadn't satisfied him. He had no father, no house, no extended family. He was just beginning to realize she was his only stability.

  After she'd tucked him in, she went out to the kitchen and saw Gabe standing by the back door. He turned when he heard her, and she watched as his hand slid into his pocket. He withdrew several bills and gave them to her.

  She counted out fifty dollars. "What's this?"

  "A bonus. You've done a lot of work that isn't in your job description. It's only fair."

  He was making up for the money that had been stolen from her purse and trying to save her pride at the same time. She looked down at the crisp bills and blinked. "Thanks," she managed.

  "I'm going outside for a while. I'll be back soon."

  He didn't invite her to go with him, and she didn't ask. Moments like this reminded her of how much there was that separated them.

  Later, as she was just starting to get ready for bed, she heard him return. She finished undressing, then slipped into his old work shirt. After she'd washed her face and brushed her teeth, she went out to the kitchen where she found him crouched by a cardboard box sitting near the stove.

  She walked over to investigate and saw that the box held a heating pad and a green plastic strawberry container lined with tissue. Inside lay a bedraggled baby sparrow.

  On Tuesday, with the drive-in opening only three days away, Rachel was beginning to think they'd never be ready on time. She was excited about showing off the Pride of Carolina to the community. Having fireworks on opening night had been her idea, and she was making Gabe put up a row of colorful plastic flags near the entrance.

  Unfortunately, Gabe didn't share her enthusiasm, and his lack of interest grew more apparent every day. At the same time, her affection for the old place grew. Looking at the fresh paint, sparkling new appliances, and weed-free lot gave her a feeling of accomplishment.

  At three that afternoon, the snack-shop phone rang. She dropped the cloth she'd been using to wipe down the new popcorn machine and raced to answer it.

  "I've got the Bible," Kristy said. "Carol's son just delivered it."

  Rachel gave a sigh of relief. "I can't believe I'm finally going to have it. I'll pick it up tonight."

  They chatted for a few minutes, and, as she hung up, Gabe walked in. She dashed around the end of the counter. "Kristy has the Bible!"

  "Don't pin all your hopes on this."

  She looked up into his unsmiling silver eyes and couldn't resist touching his cheek. "You worry too much, dude."

  He smiled then, but only for a moment. She could tell he was getting ready to launch into another lecture, so she changed the subject. "How are things going with Tom?"

  "He seems to know what he's doing."

  Tom Bennett was the projectionist Gabe had hired. After the grand opening, Gabe planned to keep the drive-in open four nights a week. Tom lived in Brevard and would be commuting. Gabe was going to operate the ticket booth and work with Rachel in the snack shop during intermissions, along with a young woman named Kayla he'd hired to help out.

  For some time Rachel had been puzzling over what to do with Edward when she had to start working at night, but in the end, her decision had been simple. She couldn't afford a sitter to stay with him very often, so most of the time he would have to come with her. She'd make a bed for him in Gabe's office next to the projection room and hope he'd fall sleep.

  Gabe regarded her sternly. "Did you eat lunch today?"

  "Every bite." As she gazed at his cranky, disagreeable expression, her mouth curled in a goofy smile. It had been a long time since anyone had looked out for her. Dwayne certainly hadn't, and by the time Rachel had entered her mid-teens, her grandmother's health had deteriorated to the point where Rachel had become her caretaker. But this grouchy, wounded man who only wanted to be left alone had appointed himself her guardian angel.

  Her feelings were too much for her, and she walked back to the counter. "How's Tweety Bird doing?"

  "Still alive."

  "Good." He'd brought the baby sparrow to the drive-in with him so he could keep up with its frequent feedings. Earlier, she'd gone up to his office to ask him a question and seen his big frame bent over the box as he fed the small creature from the slanted tip of a straw." Where did you say you found it?"

  "Near the back porch. Usually you can locate the nest and put them back—it's an old wives' tale that birds are rejected by their mothers if they have a human scent on them. But I couldn't find a nest anywhere."

  His expression grew even more irritable, as if the baby bird's continued survival displeased him, but she knew differently, and her smile widened.

  "What are you so happy about?" he growled.

  "I'm happy about you, Bonner." She couldn't resist touching him again, and she abandoned the rag she'd just picked up to go to him. He drew her closer. She laid her head against his chest and listened to the steady thump of his heart.

  His thumbs rubbed her back through the soft cotton dress, and she felt his arousal pressed against her. "Let's get out of here, sweetheart, and go back to the cottage."

  "We have too much to do. Besides, we just made love last night, or have you forgotten?"

  "Yep. It's completely slipped my mind. You're going to have to remind me."

  "I'll remind you tonight."

  He smiled, but only for a moment before he dropped his head and kissed her.

  This was no fleeting touch, but a full melding of their mouths that quickly grew hungry and demanding. His lips parted, and then her own. She felt his fingers tunneling through her hair. His tongue came into her mouth, and she reveled in the wildly erotic sensation of two people out of control.

  The kiss deepened. He reached under her dress, pulled at her panties. She grabbed for the snap on his jeans.

  There was a loud thump on the ceiling. They sprang back like guilty children, then realized Tom had merely dropped something in the projection room.

  She grabbed the edge of the counter.

  He took a long, unsteady breath. "I forgot we weren't alone."

  Her delight bubbled to the surface. "You sure did. You got totally carried away by lust, Bonner. Totally."

  "I'm not the only one. And it's not funny. Having somebody walk in on the two of us is the last thing your reputation needs right now. It's bad enough that I'm living at the cottage with Kristy gone."

  "Yeah-yeah." She regarded him mischievously. "That tongue thing… You did it on Saturday night, too. I like it."

  He rolled his eyes, exasperated, but also amused.

  "Do you know the last person I did anything like that with?"

  "Not G. Dwayne I'll bet." He moved over to the coffeemaker, as if he didn't trust himself to stand so close to her. She saw the distinct bulge at the front of his jeans and felt a rush of womanly satisfaction.

  "Are you kidding? He was a dry pecker."

  "A what?"

  "He used to give me these dry little pecking kisses that never quite made it to my mouth. No, the last time I kissed like that was my junior year in high school with Jeffrey Dillard in the Sunday-school storage closet. We'd both been eating Jolly Ranchers, so it was sweet in more ways than one."

  "You haven't done any tongue kissing since your junior year of high school?"

  "Pathetic, isn't it? I was afraid if I did I'd go to hell, which is one of the good things about the last few years of my life."

  "How's that?"

  "I don't worry about hell anymore. I've sort of developed a 'been there, done that' attitude."

  "Rach…"

  He looked so distressed she wanted to bite her tongue. Irreverence might help stave off her fear, but it upset him. "Lame joke, Bonner. Hey, you'd better get back to work before the boss catches you loafing. He's a real tightwad, and, if you're not careful, he'll dock your pay. Personally, I'm scared to death of him."

  "Is that so?"

>   "The man has no pity, not to mention being stingy. Luckily, I'm smarter than he is, so I've figured a way to get a promotion."

  "How's that?" He took a sip of coffee.

  "I'm going to strip him naked and then lick him all over."

  His lengthy coughing fit left her with a sense of satisfaction that carried her through the rest of the afternoon.

  Edward crouched on his haunches, the heels of his hands braced on his knees, and gazed into the cardboard box. "It's not dead yet."

  The kid's pessimistic attitude annoyed Gabe, but he tried not to show it. He returned the mixture of ground beef, egg yolk, and baby cereal he'd been using to feed the sparrow to the refrigerator. Edward had been hanging around the box all evening to watch, but he finally stood, pushed his rabbit headfirst into the elastic waistband of his shorts, and wandered into the living room.

  Gabe stuck his head through the doorway. "Leave your mother alone for a while longer, okay?"

  "I want to see her."

  "Later."

  The boy pulled the stuffed rabbit from his shorts, tucked it against his chest, and regarded Gabe resentfully.

  Rachel had been holed up in her bedroom with G. Dwayne's Bible ever since Kristy had brought it over. If she'd found anything, the door would have blown open, but since it hadn't, he knew she was facing another disappointment. The least he could do was keep the boy occupied while she dealt with it.

  Now he watched as the five-year-old ignored his instructions and tried to sidle inconspicuously toward the back hallway.

  "I asked you to leave your mother alone."

  "She said she'd read Stellaluna to me."

  Gabe knew what he should do. He should get the book and read the story to the boy himself, but he couldn't do that. He simply could not let the child sit next to him while he read him that particular book.

  One more time, Daddy. Read Stellaluna one more time. Please.

  "The book's about a bat, right?"

  Edward nodded. "A good bat. Not a scary bat."

  "Let's go outside and see if we can spot one."

  "A real bat?"

  "Sure." Gabe led the way to the back door and held the screen open. "They should be out by now. They feed at night."

  "That's all right. I got stuff to do here."

  "Outside, Edward. Now."

  The boy ducked reluctantly under his arm. "My name's Chip. You shouldn't come out here. You should stay with Tweety Bird so he don't die."

  Gabe swallowed his impatience and followed the boy outside. "I've been taking care of birds since I was only a little older than you, so I guess I know what I'm doing." He recoiled from the harsh sound of his words and took a deep breath, trying to make amends. "When my brothers and I were boys, we'd find baby birds that had fallen out of their nests all the time. We didn't know then that you were supposed to put them back in, so we took them home. Sometimes they'd die, but sometimes we could save them."

  As he remembered it, he was the one who'd done all of the saving. Cal's intentions were pure, but he'd get wrapped up shooting baskets or playing softball and forget to feed the bird. And Ethan had been too young for the responsibility.

  "You told Mommy Pastor Ethan is your brother."

  Gabe didn't miss the accusing note in Edward's voice, but he didn't let himself rise to it. "That's right."

  "You don't look the same."

  "He looks like our mother. My brother Cal and I look like our father."

  "You don't act the same."

  "People are different, even brothers." He picked up one of the tubular lawn chairs that leaned against the back of the cottage and unfolded it.

  Edward dug the heel of his sneaker into the soft earth while he let the rabbit dangle at his side. "My brother's like me."

  Gabe looked over at him. "Your brother?"

  Edward's forehead puckered as he concentrated on his sneaker. "He's real strong, and he can beat up about a million people. His name is… Strongman. He never gets sick, and he always calls me Chip, not that other name."

  "I think you're hurting your mother's feelings when you tell people not to call you Edward," he said quietly.

  The boy didn't like that, and Gabe watched the play of emotions cross his face: unhappiness, doubt, stubbornness. "She's allowed to call me that. You're not."

  Gabe picked up the other lawn chair and unfolded it. "Keep watching just above that ridge. There's a cave up there where a lot of bats live. You might be able to see some of them."

  Edward tucked the rabbit next to him as he sat in the other chair. His feet didn't touch the ground, and his thin legs stuck out stiffly in front of him. Gabe felt the boy's tension, and it bothered him to be regarded as some sort of monster.

  A few minutes ticked by. Jamie, with a five-year-old's impatience, would have jumped out of the chair after thirty seconds, but Rachel's son sat quietly, too afraid of Gabe to rebel. Gabe hated that fear, even though he couldn't seem to do anything about it.

  The fireflies came out, and the last of the evening breeze died down. The boy didn't move. Gabe tried to think of something to say, but it was the boy who finally spoke.

  "I think that's a bat."

  "No. It's a hawk."

  The boy drew the rabbit into his lap and poked at a tiny hole in the seam with his index finger. "My mommy'll get mad if I stay out here too long."

  "Watch the trees."

  He stuffed the rabbit under his T-shirt and leaned back in the chair. It squeaked. He leaned forward and then back, making it squeak again. And again.

  "Be quiet, Edward."

  "I'm not Ed—"

  "Chip, damn it!"

  The boy crossed his arms over his lumpy chest.

  Gabe sighed. "I'm sorry."

  "I have to pee real bad."

  Gabe gave up. "All right."

  The lawn chair tilted as the boy jumped from it.

  Just then, Rachel's voice drifted out of the back door. "Bedtime, Edward."

  Gabe turned to see her standing inside the screen silhouetted against the kitchen light. She looked slim and beautiful, at once entirely herself, but at the same time, any one of a million mothers calling a child inside on that warm July night.

  His mind shifted to Cherry, and he waited for the pain to hit him, but what he felt instead was melancholy. Maybe, if he didn't let himself think about Jamie, he might be able to live after all.

  Edward ran for the back porch, and as soon as he reached his mother's side, he grabbed her skirt. "You told me not to say curses, didn't you, Mommy?"

  "That's right. Curses are rude."

  He glared at Gabe. "He said one. He said a curse."

  Gabe regarded him with annoyance. The little tattletale.

  Rachel herded the child inside without comment.

  Gabe fed the baby sparrow again, doing his best not to touch him too much as he dispensed tiny dollops of food. Too much hand-feeding would accustom the bird to human contact and turn it into a pet, making it more difficult to release the creature back to the wild.

  He wanted to be certain she'd had enough time to put the boy to bed, so he cleaned up the bird's nest by lining it with fresh tissue before he went into the living room. Through the front screen, he saw her sitting on the porch step with her arms propped on top of her bent knees. He stepped outside.

  Rachel heard the screen door open behind her. The porch vibrated beneath her hips as he walked toward her. He lowered himself onto the step.

  "You didn't find anything in the Bible, did you?"

  She still hadn't managed to swallow her disappointment. "No. But a lot of text is underlined and there are marginal notes everywhere. I'm going through it page by page. I'm sure I'll find a clue somewhere."

  "Nothing's easy for you, is it, Rach?"

  She was tired and frustrated, and the energy that had carried her through the afternoon had vanished. There had been something deeply disturbing about reading those old, familiar verses again. She could sense them pulling at her, trying to draw her b
ack toward something she could no longer accept.

  Her eyes began to sting, but she fought against it. "Don't get sentimental on me, Bonner. I can handle just about anything but that."

  He slipped his arm behind her and cupped her shoulder. "All right, sweetheart. I'll smack you around instead."

  Sweetheart. He'd called her that twice today. Was she really his sweetheart?

  She leaned against his shoulder and accepted the truth. She had fallen in love with him. She wanted to deny it, but it was no use.

  What she felt was so different from her love for Dwayne. That had been an unhealthy combination of hero worship and a young girl looking for a father. This was a mature love, with her eyes wide open. She saw both Gabe's flaws and her own. And she also saw how destructive it would be to let herself fantasize about a future with a man who was still in love with his dead wife. Even more painful, a man who disliked her child.

  The animosity between Gabe and Edward seemed to be getting worse, and she couldn't think of a way to make it better. She couldn't order Gabe to change his attitude or make him care about Edward.

  She felt tired and defeated. He was right. Nothing ever came easy for her. "Try not to curse in front of Edward, will you?"

  "It slipped out." He gazed at the dark line of trees that marked the edge of the front yard. "You know, Rachel, he's a good kid and everything, but maybe you need to toughen him up a little."

  "I'll enroll him in scowling lessons first thing tomorrow."

  "I'm just saying… That rabbit he carries around all the time, for example. He's five years old. The other kids are probably making fun of him."

  "He says he keeps it in his cubby when he's at school."

  "Still. He's too old."

  "Didn't Jamie have anything like that?"

  His entire body stiffened, and she knew she had trod on forbidden ground. He could talk about his wife, but not his son.

  "Not when he was five."

  "Well, I'm sorry Edward's not macho enough for you, but the last few years have taken some of the spunk out of him. It didn't help that he spent a month in the hospital this spring."

  "What was wrong with him?"