Don’t you see me? We had a baby together!
I blush at my own thoughts as Neil pulls out my chair, kissing me on the cheek. I close my eyes and try to be pulled in by him. But he smells off, and his fingers are too long and pokey as he kneads my neck.
Oh my God. It’s like I’m on drugs.
“What’s wrong?” Neil asks.
I take a sip of my water, spilling it on myself. “Nothing,” I say. “I’m just really hungry.” He flags down the server, and as he does, I wonder if he would really cheat on me. Neil, who likes things to be simple and easy. Cheating takes work. A complicated smorgasbord of emotions that he isn’t wired for.
When the waiter comes, I order wine. Neil raises his eyebrows. I don’t blame him, I suppose. I’ve been a beer drinker until this very moment. “I thought you didn’t like wine.”
“I didn’t,” I say, shooting Kit a look. “I guess I do now. It’s, like, super hot in here.”
Kit orders wine too. Della and Neil make fun of us. Old people, they say. I would have said that too … last week, this morning, an hour ago. Can a dream really influence your palate? I don’t think so.
They talk about all kinds of things, but I barely hear them. They are not things I care about anymore. I pull out a pen from my purse and start to draw on the paper placemat. I am trying to draw the things I saw in the coloring book, but I’m terrible.
“What are you doing?” Della asks me. “You’re totally zoned out.” She’s leaning into him, her hand rubbing his thigh. She picks up the placemat and examines it. “Is this … a treehouse?”
“Yes!” I say excitedly. She giggles, and I feel sad.
“Don’t quit your day job, Helena,” she says. “You’re the math girl.” I take back the placemat and put it face down on the table. Kit looks at me for the first time—like really zones in.
“Do you like to draw?” he asks. I like to compare people’s eyes to sweets. Kit’s eyes are chocolaty—melty and warm. I’m not a big chocolate person, but Neil has cough drop eyes, and right now I just really need something sweet.
“No,” Neil answers for me. “I’ve known her for years, and I’ve never seen her so much as doodle in a notebook.”
I look back at Kit, hoping for something. I think about saying that thing about wanting to illustrate a coloring book, but it’s not true, and I’d feel silly saying it. Maybe I’m scared.
“I don’t know,” I say to Kit. “I’m not very good at it.”
I wait for him to encourage me, but the server comes with our food, and all is forgotten. They spend the rest of dinner talking about a trip we are all planning to take over the summer. I spend it thinking about the dream. A life I never knew I wanted. I want to go back. I want to fall asleep again to see if I can visit Helena and Kit’s Pottery Barn house in Port Townsend, Washington. When Kit says something, I listen. He’s kind of the same person I knew in the dream, maybe not as self-aware. But, for the first time, I notice how attentive he is to my best friend. How touchy-feely, and not in a smothering way. He just likes to touch her, and I feel jealous. When he speaks, it’s never without purpose. He says things that make Neil nod thoughtfully, and make Della look up at him with a dreamy look on her face. This is crazy. I stand up.
“I have to go,” I say.
“Why?” Neil protests. “We are supposed to go to a movie.”
“I don’t feel well,” I say. I lean down and kiss him on the cheek. There is no stubble to graze my lips. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Bye guys.” I wave at Della and Kit and walk quickly to my car. I look over my shoulder, expecting one of them to be following me, and I feel a pang of sadness that they’re all talking at the table like I was never there.
I drive home and let myself into my apartment, still unable to shake the weird feeling I’ve had since waking up from the dream. Instead of taking out my textbooks to study, I find an empty notebook and begin writing down the details of the dream. So stupid. Such a waste of time. I tell myself this, but I don’t stop doing it, until there are ten pages of scrawling, blue ink. When I’m done, I’m exhausted. From the emotion of it, yes. But more so, because I feel changed. Shifted. Redirected. I drink three glasses of water, take a shower. When nothing can distract me from the strangeness I feel, I open my laptop and find Kit’s Facebook profile. We became friends recently, after the first time Della introduced us. It always seems like the thing to do when you meet someone new—add them to your life on social media. We are now friends! Now you can see what I eat for lunch, posted in my very favorite filter, and see pictures of my running shoes as I take an above shot to let you know I work out. And read my sentimental posts about how I date the best guy in the universe (posted on his birthday or our anniversary). Every pretentious, made up moment of my life will be yours. Welcome, follower!