Page 75 of Free to Dream
Moving aside her hair, I kiss the center of her amaryllis tattoo. “You’ve never told me about this.”
Surprised, she half turns and says, “Haven’t I?”
I shake my head. It’s making me nauseous. I’m lying even as I’m trying to give her comfort. I know all about her beautiful tattoo.
She reaches up to touch it and smiles before tucking her head back down on my chest. I resume my grazing of the beautiful artwork on her neck with the tips of my fingers.
“Phil was researching flowers one day for his classwork and came across the Greek myth of Amaryllis. He fell in love with it. So did Em and I once we heard it.” I feel her smile against my chest. “I assume, Harvard, you know the story,” she teases. I squeeze the back of her neck. “Yes, but only because it popped up when I was looking up your company website.”
Her laughter is soft, and I feel the tension leech from her. I’m suddenly glad I asked her this. “So, family ink? Since I can’t see Phil’s, I assume not everyone’s is in the same spot?”
She shakes her head no. “We all chose somewhere that meant the most to us personally. For me, with my anxiety, I tend to rub my neck a lot. I want to be reminded of what the tattoo is supposed to represent when I feel stressed. I need to be reminded of what Phil told us our family is meant to represent; pride, determination, and beauty. No matter what happens, I have that. Some people over the years have refused to do business with us because they’ve seen the one on my neck, on Ali’s foot, or on Phil or Holly’s wrist. Em and Corinna’s are the only ones not typically visible. We won’t change who we are. We can’t change our past. We’ll always have that.” She goes silent with those words.
I’m meanwhile seething on the inside, knowing some of those individuals are likely in the same social set of my birth vessel. I know she’s awaiting some kind of reaction to what she just told me.
I lean down and kiss the center of the tattoo and she sighs. We sit in the quiet solace of the night for a few minutes before she says, “I’ve been having dreams.”
I squeeze my eyes closed. I don’t want to imagine what they’re about, but I’ll gladly bear this burden if she wants to talk about them. “Do you want to talk about them?”
She nods. “At least this one I do.” Her voice is confused, hurt.
My arms tighten. “Go ahead”
“There’s a little girl in them. She’s so happy and giggling. And there’s a woman there. I’m pretty sure it’s her mother. At first, the mother’s happy, really happy, then she gets so sad. I think…”
Knowing her ear is against it, I try to keep my heart regulated, but my mind is running a mile a minute. “What do you think, Pixie?”
“I think the little girl in the dream may be me,” she whispers sadly. “I think it’s a memory.”
“So why are you so sad about it, baby? It sounds beautiful.” I’m confused. Why isn’t this in her file? Why hasn’t she shared this? Shouldn’t there be a sketch of the woman somewhere?
“Because of what Keene said today. Maybe I’m blocking what happened to me because maybe my family gave me away to those monsters like Ali, Corinna, and Holly’s families did. Maybe it wasn’t like Phil not knowing who his parents are or Em’s parents dying. Maybe someone didn’t want me and wanted that to happen to me.” Tears start cascading down her cheeks. “What if it’s the woman in my dream? For years, I’ve thought that dream only came because I was happy. Maybe it’s some kind of subconscious warning? I don’t know, Caleb. I just don’t know.” She’s so frustrated, its palpable.
I tread carefully. “Do you want to talk to someone about it?”
She shakes her head emphatically. “No. At least, not now. I have too much going on to go there. I can’t open myself up to that right now.”
Nor could she handle the knowledge of what I’ve been holding back.
“Later then. Whenever you’re ready.”
She fidgets for a second before taking a deep breath. “Will you be there?”
I respond past the huge lump in my throat. “Always, if you’ll let me.”
That’s nothing more than the simple truth.
28
Keene
Her eyes.
Her hair.
Her heart-shaped birthmark.
No memory of her early childhood.
