Elena
I awaken with a start to a "woof" from Duchess.
What?! Where am I?! I look around.
Oh. It was just a dream.
It was SO REAL. Greg. Greg was there. How? How could I have made this up on my own? It's not possible.
Was it really only just last night that John and I were talking about having another baby?
Visions of the dream I had overtake me.
"I really intended to tell you, Elena darling." Greg said. "I was going to come by and tell you that very day. I wasn't about to keep something like that from you again. Not when things were getting better."
"But Greg," I responded, "you didn't look the least bit sorry you were kissing her in the park that day. Right there for anyone to see. Playing me for a fool."
Greg sighed, "What can I say? I was an idiot. I was still a little angry. Also, I felt bad for Sylvia. I thought, 'Hey, what can one more kiss hurt?'. I was about to tell her I had made a mistake."
"Poor Sylvia." I said... and couldn't believe I said it. "I hope she has a better life where she moved to."
"I was there that night." he said all of a sudden. "That night Marie threw that party. When you asked John..."
"You were? Where?" I asked.
"Behind the gate. John looked right at me. Ask him about it."
I can't believe how clearly I remember this dream, I think as more of it comes back to me.
"It was Laurie, or whatever his name was, who told me about you two being engaged." he said.
"He killed you." I stated blandly.
"Yes. I was stupid."
"Why didn't you tell me in the dream I had?" I asked.
"I couldn't. There are rules. I can only talk to you about it now that you know most of it. The most I could do was give you a clue." He paused. "I'm glad you're okay. What a monster he was."
"Greg, the dream is ending again."
Then I wake up.
I watch Duchess chase her tail for a moment before she jumps off the bed.
Why have this dream now? It was just... sad. But... that part about him being behind the gate? What was that about? And the "rules"? I don't understand that part either. And DID he know we were engaged before that creepazoid shot him? Maybe my subconscious made that part up.
I get dressed and go to work for the first time since coming back from Bridgeport. John had set up a networking system for me, but I think that's a bit ridiculous now. It's been long enough.
Then again... maybe it hasn't been long enough. This is... strange. I haven't been in here since the day Greg died.... the day I told "Laurie" I didn't love him.
It looks... virtually untouched.
John didn't dust or anything.
Dust flies everywhere as I dust off my desk with my bare hand. I cough and wave my hand in front of my face in a hopeless attempt to clear the airborne particles away from my mouth and nose.
I cough a little, sit down at the desk and turn on the computer.
I'm feeling better now. This is what I need. I need to take control of my life again.
I take a deep breath and happily crunch numbers. Dust still flies around in front of the desk.
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I nearly jump out of my skin. What the hell was that?!? A cold sweat breaks out on my brow. I jump up from my desk to fully investigate, shaking the whole time.
That was him! I know I saw it! What the HELL?! No.... no no no no no. He's dead. I saw him die. I saw them carry his body away. Am I losing my mind?
Maybe I should call Brook to come do an investigation.
At any rate... I need to get out of here ... now!
The bar is getting ready to open, and I've decided to work the bar for the first few hours before my employee comes in. I've gone with a temp service to keep the place going. I don't really know who they're going to send tonight, but they usually deliver.
Here goes.
I only really have one patron for the couple hours I have to work.. that is... until John comes in.
"Hey, John!"
John glances at the guy I have running the cash register, then he smiles at me, "Hey, Baby."
He sits down with a heavy sigh, "Have a good day?"
"First tell me about yours." I'm not quite ready to admit aloud what I think I saw.
"I wish I could talk about it." he says. I start mixing him something. "What are you doing?" he asks.
"Making you something."
"You don't need to do that."
"Yes, I do." I answer obstinately just before my bartender for the night walks in. I walk around the bar and hand it to him.
"Oh, I see how it is." John starts to tease. "Wear that sexy little number and ply your husband with drinks."
I play along, "Of course! You know I wouldn't have it any other way!"
Whatever it is that's happening at work is REALLY bugging him. I know he can't talk about it, but I wish he could.
John leans in and whispers to me, "It's working."
Huh? What's he talking... oh yeah.... the whole "ply your husband with drinks" thing.
He grins, takes a step to the bar to put his glass on it, then turns and takes me by surprise with an unexpected kiss.
Um, okay? Right in front of the random guy I have working tonight?
"What's wrong?" he asks, concern showing in his eyes.
"Nothing." I lie.
"Right." he says sarcastically. "Seriously, what's wrong?"
"Okay, okay. I think I'm going insane."
He acts like he's trying not to chuckle. He fails miserably. "What makes you say that?" he finally asks when he's gotten control of his humorous mood.
Not here.
"Um," I say, "can I tell you later?"
"Is it my fault?" he asks, concerned again.
"No! ... No. I'll tell you later." I say as John breaths an almost undetectable sigh of relief.
"Thought any more on what we talked about last night?" he asks hopefully.
"Actually, no. Sorry. I've had other things on my mind."
He looks like he's trying to hide a sad expression. He forgets I've gotten much better at reading him.
"John..."
"No, it's okay." he interrupts. "We can talk about it later. I was just wondering." He sighs and looks down at my shoulder. "Ready to go home?" he asks.
"Yes." I say with conviction. He raises his eyebrows to question me. I shake my head.
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