When I was done speaking I felt his body had gone still again, stone still.
And silent.
Then he asked quietly, “Nightmare?”
“Nightmare,” I replied firmly.
Ty didn’t move.
By a miracle, I held it together.
Then he moved but it was to rest his chin on my shoulder and I closed my eyes because I needed him to go, go, go so I could fall apart again on my own.
Then he said, “Your nightmare, mama, was my dream.”
My heart clenched.
He kept going. “Never had a home until you gave me one.”
My breath started sticking.
“Never had anyone give to me the way you gave to me.”
My breath stopped sticking and clogged.
“Never thought of findin’ a woman who I wanted to have my baby.”
Oh God.
“Never had light in my life, never, not once, I lived wild but I didn’t burn bright until you shined your light on me.”
Oh God.
“Whacked, f**kin’ insane, but, at night, you curled in front of me, didn’t mind I did that time that wasn’t mine ‘cause it meant I walked out to you.”
He had to stop. He had to.
He didn’t.
“Your nightmare,” he whispered, turned his head and against my neck he finished, “my dream.”
Then he kissed my neck, gave me one last squeeze of his long, strong, powerful arms then he let me go, shifted back, got to his feet and I heard his footsteps walking away.
When I couldn’t hear them anymore I opened my eyes and saw sea.
I didn’t move for a long time and anyone studying me from the huge, cement patio with rusted lounge chairs would think I was lost in my thoughts not sitting in the sand with rivers of salt flowing down my face.
When the tears were spent, I let the breeze dry my cheeks until they felt scratchy and tight.
Then I got up and wandered up the beach, up the stairs to the patio and to my room. I needed to call Bessie in hers and talk about dinner. I didn’t eat much but she’d wait even if I picked at my food while she ate hers and I knew this because that’s what she’d been doing for weeks.
I dug my key out of my back pocket, put it in the lock, twisted it and walked into my room. The sun was setting but it was still light. When the door closed behind me, I couldn’t see anything because the drapes were pulled.
I flipped the switch, took two steps into the room then froze and stared at the bed.
A pile of rolled bills of cash sat in the center of my bed next to four, distinctive-colored boxes.
My eyes darted around the room, half expecting Ty to walk out of the bathroom, pop out from behind a curtain.