Page 61 of Roses, Pearls, and Hot Summer Nights
With my head on Jeremy’s shoulder, I started to read the book. I lost a few pages, rereading them to remember where Ileft off, but I got sucked back into the story quickly. Jeremy’s snore caught my attention, and I realized he’d fallen asleep, too. His eyes were closed, his mouth open, his body utterly relaxed and out cold. He leaned against the seat behind him, making a lovely pillow for my reading with his shoulder despite sleeping.
A glance at Julian proved he still turned the pages in his book, but Barrett’s eyes were closed, his earbuds blocking his ears, and he seemed asleep, too. I remembered from the night before how quiet of a sleeper he could be, and I blushed.
Phoenix released an occasional sigh, even as the pained expression returned to his face. Without overthinking it, I stroked my hands through his hair gently, loving the way the strands felt against my fingers. His face smoothed, tension vanishing, and I blinked in surprise. Did he sense my touch in his sleep and did it bring him comfort? Probably it didn’t matter, but the situation struck me as weird—the lonely girl with the hot guy in her lap. ThePoor Relationwould know what to do …
With one hand, I held my book. The other, I ran through Phoenix’s soft, thick hair. When his snores matched his brother’s, I grinned.
Before long, the book drooped in my hand, drowsiness and the drive taking their toll on my attention, despite the skilled storytelling. Julian’s eyes were closed, too, his mouth open—like Jeremy and Phoenix, he snored. I stroked my hand through Phoenix’s hair again and wondered how long he had been asleep. Certainly longer than the half an hour his brothers predicted. He showed no sign of moving, resting peacefully against me. Under his eyelids, his eyes moved quickly, the REM of a dream. A second later, he shifted, rolling over until his head faced my stomach. I held him a bit closer, hugging him somewhat until his snores started again.
One of his hands swung around me to hold on to my back, hugging me, and I sighed.
I lifted my gaze to find Barrett staring at me.
He pulled an earbud out then smiled. “He’s out.” His voice was low. “Thanks for that, because I can’t remember the last time he slept. By now, he’s usually awake to shovel something else toxic into his mouth, so he can either zone out or fall asleep again.”
With my head on Jeremy’s shoulder still, I considered Barrett carefully. “I am strangely comfortable,” I admitted. Part of me still expected one or all of them to call foul, to say they were jealous or be angry because I touched another brother. It just didn’t make sense for it to be so easy, especially since easy wasn’t ever in my playbook.
“Not strange. Not to me, anyway.” He looked at Julian and then back at me. “Do I snore?”
Just above a whisper, I admitted, “No. Do I?”
“You sigh sometimes. It’s really nice, but you don’t snore. My brothers must be exhausted. I am honestly surprised they all conked out. I knew Phoenix was tired, but the twins? Had no idea.” He put his earbud back in place. “You should try to sleep, if you can. We tend to keep late nights at Water Mill.”
I yawned and wondered if that was part of the Hamptons, but I didn’t want to ask and risk waking anyone else.
Do I need sleep?I didn’t know. I didn’t sleep well most of the time, but I had rested well with Barrett. He shot me a small smile before he closed his eyes, as if he remembered it too. I blinked and tried to focus out the window, but I couldn’t tell how long we’d been in the car so far. I lost track of time at some point.
Still, I obeyed and closed my eyes then listened to them all breathing. Something about the sound of it meant I wasn’t alone, and despite Jeremy’s shoulder not making the greatest pillow, my mind drifted.
I found myself in the apartment in Chicago again, and my aunt was in a good mood. I wore my comfy pajama pants and atank top, happy because it had been getting warmer and I loved watching the city come to life with blossoms. My aunt was telling me about something, but I looked out the large windows at the sweeping blue arch of Lake Michigan. When my aunt was happy, the whole world seemed brighter.
She told me all about her expensive lunch with Ted, and how he took her out as a surprise, and although she didn’t explicitly say it, I got the implication they did more than eat. When she was animated, enthusiastic in her storytelling, I could pretend that she liked me, at least a little bit. Out of all of my family members at the funeral, she seemed to like me the most, even though she also hated my mother like everyone else.
“Did you hear me, Alatheia?” she asked, her voice going a bit shrill and snagging my attention with the force of a whip.
I blinked, forcing myself to focus. “I’m sorry. I was thinking about something else.”
She groaned. “You and your attention problems. You’d better figure out how to actively listen or you’ll never get the right man to love you.”
The door opened and closed, but I didn’t have to turn around to know it was Ted coming home from work. He stared at me for long moments, his eyes glinting in a predatory way, so I smiled back at him as best I could. Keeping Ted happy seemed to be really important to my aunt, and he liked it when I smiled.
“How are you beautiful women?” he asked in his booming voice.
The scene changed in the melting way of dreams. I wasn’t in her apartment anymore, but I was actually standing on frozen Lake Michigan. Snow and wind blew all around me, the waves frozen into strange monoliths, but I stood shivering in my pajama pants and my matching blue tank top. Barefoot and alone, no land in sight, just frozen water and the howling wind all around me. I shivered and cried out, scared and stranded andalone. A loud crack sounded, seeming to quake from the frozen water under me up my legs and into my spine. It was opening up around me; I would go beneath the frozen water forever and no one would ever find me.
“Alatheia!” my mother called. I could see her on the beach when the snow shifted, her hand extended toward me as if reaching. “Did you forget me?”
I jolted awake, gasping for air.A dream. Just a dream. I wasn’t on ice. I was … in a limo on my way to the Hamptons, which somehow seemed more impossible than being on Lake Michigan. The sound of even breathing around me proved no one had woken up when I gasped, so at least I had my nightmare quietly. I lifted my head off Jeremy, and he frowned before he rolled his shoulder slightly.Poor guy. His arm likely had fallen asleep ages ago.
My heart raced as I remembered the dream. Did I forget her? Of course I could never forget my own mother.Did I?I wasn’t sure anymore that I had ever really known her. I could picture the sweet waitress sometimes too tired to play with me, but always so kind. Things were easier when my dad was alive. I could remember moments of happiness then.
Tiny elements came to me as if they were charms on a bracelet I could sift through: the lake, our little trailer, the way she hummed. I wasn’t sure why, but together the little bits added up to a feeling of home. One that stopped once we were alone, and my dad was gone.
Still, I knew she chose to run away from the life they wanted me to live—so I couldn’t feel too bad for failing miserably. Her family hated her because they knew she disdained them and everything they stood for, and now, they hated me. I considered my aunt’s words again, and wondered if my mother really could’ve been addicted to drugs.
No tears threatened, but then again, I figured I probably cried myself out earlier.Of course I dreamed of my mother. It seemed like everything in the world circled back to her eventually, so the questions resulted in my subconscious giving me dreams of her.
That was all there was to it.
