Page 46 of That Last Carolina Summer
A pinprick of fear brushed the base of my neck. “Can I stop you?”
He didn’t smile as he flipped on his blinker. “If you had a dream about Julie, you’d tell Gran wouldn’t you?”
“Of course. I’m not a monster. I just don’t like being the object of derision and speculation. It’s one of the reasons why I left.”
“And the dreams didn’t follow you?”
I studied the puddles on the road, blocking out the mental image of the lone car on the bridge. And the dreams I’d had about Stephanie and Mary-Simms. “Mostly.”
He pulled into a gravel lot and parked the car before shutting off the engine. “Mostly?”
“If I had a dream about Julie, I would tell Celeste. But after spending all this time with her—and you—and I haven’t had a single dream about Julie, then my guess is that I never will. I was with Mary-Simms for less than an hour and I dreamed about her baby.”
“So if you haven’t had a dream about Julie, then you probably won’t.”
“Maybe. There’s still time before I leave. But when I’m across the country, they go away.”
He nodded silently, thinking. After a while, he said, “So your dreams are always premonitions. And then they happen.”
Except for one. “Yeah. I actually had a dream about Stephanie before she fell off her bike. I’m sorry I didn’t warn her.
I could tell she wasn’t seriously hurt, and besides, how does one call a virtual stranger on the phone and tell them that you’ve had a dream that they’re going to get hurt?
At least Mary-Simms knows me so she didn’t freak out.
She also forgave me for spilling the beans to her friends.
She was planning a huge gender-reveal party, and I guess I ruined that. ”
“Is that really a bad thing, though? I’m sure her friends are all grateful.”
I smirked. “Probably. But I feel terrible for ruining her surprise. I’ll be glad to put it all behind me again.”
“That’s a shame.”
I turned to look at him. “What is?”
“That you can’t reconcile yourself to this unexpected gift and find a way to live with it here. Unless Oregon really does have the kind of allure to pull you away.”
I gave him a sidelong glance, and he laughed.
“Yeah, I didn’t think so,” he said. “So I’m thinking there’s something else.”
I closed my eyes and saw the image of the car slipping off the side of the bridge. I snapped my eyes open and shook my head. “I can’t talk about it, because then I’ll see it again.” I glanced at him and quickly looked away. “There’s a recurring dream that started soon after I was hit by lightning.”
“A premonition?”
“I don’t know. I can’t see the faces in the dream and have yet to discover who it’s about or what’s really happening. I’ve always thought that it’s something in the future that hasn’t happened yet and that’s why I keep having it.”
“Could be. Although it seems your dreams and the actual events happen close together. I’m sure you’ve already considered that your recurrent dream might have been a premonition when you first had it, but now it’s something that’s already occurred.
And the reason you keep having it might be because your mind needs some kind of reconciliation or acknowledgment before it will allow you to move on. ”
I pressed the heels of my hands into my eyes, wanting to obliterate the image of the two people in the front seat of the car, their identities unknown no matter how many times I tried to see who they are.
And when the passenger climbs out of the water, I still can’t see the face.
I couldn’t tell him that I thought the dream was about me or that something terrible was going to happen in which I’m destined to be involved.
Bile rose alongside my panic as I grappled for the door handle.
“No,” I said, scraping a gnawed fingernail against the leather and chrome of the inside door panel.
“No,” I said again, slapping my hands against the door and pushing.
Liam reached across and unlatched the door so I could open it, my seat belt the only thing keeping me from tumbling onto the sidewalk.
I unsnapped it and slid from my seat then walked to the end of the gravel parking lot, oblivious to the stares of other people.
Liam waited by the side of the truck. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“Let’s not talk about it, all right?”
“Fine, if that’s what you really want. But it looks like you’re dealing with this all on your own, and it might help to have an ally.”
“You’re not—” I began.
“I know. I’m not your doctor. I would still like to help you. As a friend.”
“I don’t need you to fix me, okay? I’m used to handling things on my own.”
“That doesn’t mean you have to.”
I remembered feeling the solidness of his chest and the strength of his arms around me, and I was tempted to shift the awful burden from my shoulders to his. I dismissed the thought almost as soon as I’d had it. I had more urgent things to deal with before I left.
“I know. And thank you for the offer. I’m sure as a doctor, trying to help is in your DNA.”
“True. But that’s not why I want to help you.”
I turned and headed toward the door of the pizza shop, the image of a rainy night on a dark bridge and two people whose faces I couldn’t see obliterating all other thoughts.