The Dream - Whitney Dineen Page 0,88
get home. I reach down and pull out the card. Chow mein and popcorn settle in my stomach like a lead weight.
Dear Ashley,
Please call me and let me explain.
Davis
I pick up the vase and walk over to Sammy’s place. I don’t knock on the door because tonight is her reconciliation date with the spanker. I drop the flowers on her stoop and go back to my place where I throw Davis’s note away.
I’m happy right now. I want to stay happy, and the only way I can do that is to pretend Davis doesn’t exist. Yes, I know this may not be the healthiest approach, but I don’t care. I’m going to let joy spark wherever it will. However it will. And he can’t be a part of that.
I no longer want a bubble bath. I just want to go to bed. I change into my mom’s old nightgown and snuggle under her afghan. Later, when I awake, I recall the most wonderful dream.
I dream that my mom is still alive and she’s working at the Six Pin. I pick her up in the middle of her shift.
She asks, “Ash, what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be at school?”
“Nope,” I tell her. “I’m never going back there again. Grab your coat and follow me.”
“I can’t just leave.”
“Sure, you can, because you don’t work here anymore.”
“What do you mean I don’t work here? Of course I work here.”
“Trust me, Mom. Grab your stuff and follow me.”
We walk out of the bowling alley, and our clothes are suddenly different. Not only are we wearing pretty dresses, but our hair is done, and our nails are painted. I lead Mom to her brand-new car and say, “Get in, but I’m driving.” We magically arrive out front of our new house.
It looks like a cover of a magazine. I notice the porch hosts the flower boxes that Jessica imagined for it. I lead the way up the flower-lined walk and say, “Welcome home, Mom.”
“How in the world is this ours? It’s everything we’ve ever dreamed of!” Tears pour from her eyes as she gives away the depth of emotion she’s feeling.
We sit on the porch swing before going in, and I tell her, “I’ve been working hard to save money. More than anything, I wanted to buy us a home.”
My mom takes my hand in hers and says, “Oh Ash, I didn’t always do things right, I know that, but I always wanted to.”
“You did the best you could. That’s all that matters, Mom.”
“I’m so proud of you, honey. You’ve done so much better than I ever did.” She holds my hand up to her cheek like it’s a security blanket.
“You didn’t have it easy, Mom. I know that. I just want you to know that I love you and appreciate everything.”
“Oh baby, but I died and left you. What kind of mother leaves her child to fend for herself?”
“You didn’t want to go,” I tell her.
“I come back all the time. Did you know that? I check in on you and watch while you sleep. I love how you wear my nighties to bed. But you know what? They’re getting kind of worn out. I think it might be time to let them go.”
“I know. It feels like it’s time to let a lot of things go.”
“Not the Scooby Doo juice glasses.” She warns, “Those are going to be worth a fortune someday on eBay. Don’t you get rid of those until you can get a hundred bucks for them. Promise me.”
“I promise, Mom.” But even as I say this I know I’m going to keep them forever.
I don’t get the chance to take my mom inside before my dream shifts.
Suddenly, I’m standing in a beautiful kitchen making cookies wearing a frilly apron. I put the cookie sheet in the oven before calling out the back door, “Come on in, kids; time to wash up!”
A little girl and little boy come running inside with a golden retriever puppy hot on their heels.
“Mommy!” they shout in unison as they plow past me into the mudroom. The little girl hands me a chewed-up frisbee and says, “Duckie ruined it. Can we get another?”
Her brother says, “Andie left it out last night even though you told her to bring it in.”
“Blane wouldn’t go out with me, and it was getting dark. I was scared.” Then she sticks her tongue out at her brother.
I laugh as I say, “Okay, you two, quit squabbling. I’ll just call