“I said to you, ‘Let me see your boxes.’ Charlene, you went first. You handed me your box and I lifted its lid. Inside was a miniature day planner. I said, ‘You will soon return to being Mr. Ferrell’s personal assistant.’ ”
Charlene leaned across the table hugged me. “Thank you. Thank you.”
“It’s just a dream,” I said.
“It’s a good dream,” she replied.
“What about me?” Bryce said.
“You were next. I opened your box. Inside was a pen with an ink refill. I said, ‘You’ll soon return to the agency as a senior copywriter.’ ”
Bryce pumped his fist. “Yes! Does Scott die?”
“I didn’t dream about Scott,” I said.
“It would be an even better dream if Scott died in a fiery car crash,” Bryce said.
Leonard looked at me. “What was in my box?”
I grimaced. “It’s kind of strange.”
“What was it,” Leonard asked.
“It’s a dream, okay? It doesn’t matter what was in your box.”
“It was something bad, wasn’t it? Like a rattlesnake or grenade or something.”
“No, there wasn’t a snake. And it doesn’t matter.”
“You’re right, it doesn’t matter. So tell me.”
“Fine,” I said. “I opened your box and it had broken pots.”
“Pots?”
“Yes. Little earthenware pots.”
“What does that mean?”
“I’m not sure,” I said.
Leonard looked frantic. “You’re not sure? You knew what theirs meant.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t know.”
“If the pots are broken, it’s got to be bad,” Charlene said.
“Maybe it means that you won’t be able to hold anything,” Bryce said. “Like money, or a relationship.”
“. . . Or a job,” Charlene said.
Leonard looked even more distressed. “This is stupid. It’s just a dream.”
“That’s what I said.”
Leonard shook his head. “You still have it out for me.”
“I’ve never had it out for you,” I said. “It’s just a dream.”
“More like a nightmare,” he replied.
I got up. “Okay, I’m done. I’m going back to work.”
As I walked out, I heard Leonard say, “It’s a stupid dream. It doesn’t mean a thing.”
CHAPTER
Twenty-four
My winter has too soon been followed by another.
Joseph Jacobson’s Diary
Two days later it was my turn to pick up lunch. I went up front to get Charlene’s order, but she wasn’t there. I found Leonard and Bryce in the conference room.
“Hey, where’s Char?” I asked.
“I think she’s sick,” Leonard said.
“No,” Bryce said. “She called in this morning and said she’d be in late. Something about a meeting.”
“I bet she’s job-hunting,” Leonard said.
“Could you blame her?” Bryce said. “She’s got too much light to be kept under a bushel.”
The thought of her leaving the tank made me sad. “That’s too bad,” I said. “Not for her but for us.”
Even Leonard nodded in agreement. “I was thinking of asking her out.”
Bryce and I glanced at each other but said nothing.
An hour after lunch my phone rang. “Joseph, it’s Charlene.”
“Charbaby,” I said. “What’s going on? We missed you at lunch. We had to listen to Leonard tell us about his date last week.”
“I’m so sorry,” she said.
“I don’t think he had a date. I’m pretty sure he’s just recycling old ones. Or someone else’s.”
“Did the date pull out a hair and floss her teeth with it?”
“How did you know that?”
“Disney Channel,” she said. “Listen, I have some news.”
“What’s up?”
“I just got my job back as Mr. Ferrell’s personal assistant.”
“That’s fantastic.”
“Just like you saw in your dream. On my way in to work this morning, Mr. Ferrell called and asked me to come see him. He said his new assistant is driving him crazy and he wants me back.”
“Congratulations. I’m so happy for you. Not so much for us, but definitely for you.”
“Thanks. I’ll miss you too.”
Bryce walked up, leaning over my desk. “What’s up with Char?”
“What’s going on?” Leonard asked.
“Bryce and Leonard want to know. Can I tell them?”
“Tell us what?” Bryce asked.
“Go ahead,” Charlene said.