Page 19 of Beautiful Dreamer

“Thank you.” She shrugged. “When someone needs a confidencebooster, I think it’s nice to give it to them. Devyn, for one, could use afriendly face. I don’t care what history says about her, I plan to continue tobe just that.”

“Cool.”

They stared at each other.

“Do you want me to get out of your kitchen now?” he asked.

“Unless you want to help me do laundry, dishes, and balance mybank account. Actually, it could be really fun if we did it together.” She madea show of brightening like it was her best idea yet.

“I’m outta here. Meeting Misty from the gym for dinner,” he said, andhightailed it to the back door. His place backed up to Elizabeth’s, making thetravel time between houses about twenty seconds from back gate to back gate.

“Isn’t this your second date? You haven’t had a lot of seconddates lately. This is big news in Dexter-land.”

He laughed. “Dude, I don’t know what’s going on. I don’t evenrecognize myself. She’s a nice girl. What can I say?”

“You gonna marry her?”

He pulled his face back. “Let’s not get crazy. But my plans beatthe hell outta yours.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” she said, scoffing.

He blinked at her. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but your Fridaynight to-do list is depressing as hell. Don’t forget to live a little, okay?Maybe put the checkbook calculator away and head out on the town.”

“Hey, I’m living. Living the glamorouslaundrylife.” She did a little dance thatseemed to fall flat. “No? Not the laundry life?” She danced a little more.“Nothing?”

He shook his head in sadness. “Never say that sentence to anyone.And secondly, nah. You don’t live the glamorous life either. You’re too busymaking everyone else’s life better. Consider doing the same for your damn self.That’s all I’m saying.”

“I do. I bought that geranium for myself last week. You’reforgetting.”

“When is the last time you got laid, Liz?”

Her mouth fell open. “I’m not answering that.”

“You don’t have to. It was that hook-up over a year ago with thewoman from the painting class, and that’s way too long.”

She shrugged. “I guess it’s been a little while. Yeah.”

“My advice? Get your head out of the clouds and your clothes onthe floor. If you need some tips on how to score chicks, just let me know.” Hesmiled his contagious?/?annoying smile, popped a milk ball, and headed out forhis own exciting existence. Women, late nights, and shots at the bar. That’swhat drove Dexter these days. She wondered what it must be like to be soughtafter the way he was. What was so great about Dex was that he’d known the otherside of that coin. He remembered what it was like to be picked on, less thanpopular, and was thereby always kind, and never took his good looks oruniversal appeal for granted.

Once he left, she ruminated on his comment about her boring life,balked, shrugged, and glanced around her empty kitchen. “I live. I do.” Shefinished the last sip of her beer and shot the empty can in the direction ofthe garbage, achieving the perfect arc…and then watched it fall limply onto thekitchen floor with a bang. Huh. Surely that wasn’t a metaphor. Surely.

She sighed and shifted her lips to the side in defeat.

Maybe she should start some sort of club. Chair a new committee.She thought of Devyn, who would poke fun at her and roll her eyes. She smiledand got to work on that laundry, and then replayed that daydream of Devyn allover again.

* * *

Devyn had memorized the nurses’ names, though it was hard topredict who they’d have on which days. Their schedules didn’t seem to followany rhyme or reason. Because some were more helpful than others, she made apoint of always being there first thing in the morning in case Jill neededextra assistance with anything. When Jill rested, Devyn worked, often notseeing the outside again until late each night.

“Are you working?” a voice asked, quietly.

Devyn swiveled in the recliner that Tuesday morning to seeElizabeth standing there with a brown bag. She blinked, her brain caught in afog of paperwork and email. Jill slept nearby. “Hey. Yeah, I was.”

Elizabeth held a palm up in warning. “I will not bother you. Ipromise.” She walked into the room with slow, overexaggerated steps, as ifwalking on literal egg shells, and handed the bag to Devyn before backing awaytoward the door in the same, weird fashion.

“What is this?” Devyn asked, opening the bag. When the smell offresh bread hit her, she all but melted into a puddle.

“A warm turkey, cranberry, and cream cheese sandwich fromMcConnell’s Deli. I was picking up lunch and thought you could maybe use asandwich yourself. You tend to work through meals from what I’ve seen.”

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