Page 31 of I Dreamt That You Loved Me
As the weeks and months passed, I’d managed to convince myself that none of it mattered anyway. I’d obviously romanticized the whole thing. It was all just a silly dream.
Besides, I didn’t date musicians.
So, I let go of one dream and chased a new one.
With a loan from my mom and a promise to pay her back, I started designing my first capsule collection. Fueled by caffeine and creativity, I worked around the clock, barely stopping to eat or sleep.
I’d found a new passion and couldn’t believe I’d resisted fashion design for so long. Which was what I told my mom when we met for an early dinner. She’d come into the city to meet with her agent who was going to shop her book around.
“Why did I fight this for so long?” I asked her over tofu hijiki burgers at Dojo.
She laughed. “Because you’re stubborn.”
My mom told me that when I was a baby, I would only crawl even though I was fully capable of walking. She said that she used to hold me up then let me go, but instead of walking, I’d glare at her and sit right back down, refusing to budge. Finally, after months of this, she gave up.
“One day I took you to the market and turned my back for one minute,” she said. “When I turned around, your stroller was empty, and you were running up the aisle.Running. I couldn’t believe it. You really wanted those Froot Loops.”
“I must have been a real pain in the ass.” I couldn’t even imagine being a mother at eighteen and then to have to deal withmyattitude? My mom deserved a medal.
“No. You just always knew exactly what you wanted, and you refused to settle for less. You weren’t going to start walking until you could run.”
After dinner, we walked up St. Mark’s Place. It was a blustery, cold February day and it had started to snow.
A man selling bootleg cassettes on a dirty blanket whistled as we passed. “Have a good evening, beautiful ladies.”
“You too!” my mom called over her shoulder, linking her arm in mine. “Let’s stop by and visit Sean.”
My body tensed. “Don’t you have a train to catch?”
She laughed and bumped her shoulder against mine. “Are you trying to get rid of me?”
“No. Of course not. But it’s snowing,” I pointed out.
“It’s just a few flurries. One coffee and you can get back to your designs,” she assured me, as if that was the reason I’d balked.
It will be fine, I told myself. It was five o’clock on a Wednesday. No earthly reason for him to be at Monks.
Just the same, I cast a wary eye around the café and released a breath of relief after confirming that he wasn’t there.
Sean greeted my mom with a big hug and pulled up a chair at our table. “When are you moving back to the city?” he asked.
“I’ve been thinking about it,” my mom said, surprising me. She’d never mentioned it to me. “I do miss it.”
“Gets in your blood, doesn’t it? Every time I leave, I’m desperate to get back. But when I’m here, I’m dreaming about getting out. Anyone who chooses to live in this rat-infested, overpriced, crime-ridden city has to have a few screws loose. But where am I gonna go?”
“There’s nothing for you out there,” I said, stirring brown sugar into my cappuccino and adding a sprinkle of cinnamon. “Stay with the crazies in New York. It’s the best city in the world.”
“You’d have to drag Cleo away kicking and screaming,” my mom said.
“Yeah, well, she’s young. She’s still a kid. What does she know?” he teased then jerked his chin at me. “So how come you stopped coming on Monday nights?”
“Gabriel was my best friend’s boyfriend, and they broke up.” I shrugged like that was the only explanation necessary.
“So? You love his music. No reason you can’t stop by occasionally.”
“Who are we talking about?” my mom asked.
“Gabriel Francis,” Sean said. “The kid walked in here one day with his head down, carrying a guitar and asked me to give him a shot. He was just another scruffy kid wandering in off the streethanding out homemade demos. Well, let me tell ya something, Alice. This guy has the magic. He started out playing to an empty room and now he’s got a cult-like following of devoted fans.”
