She woke up with a start. She had been dreaming. A deep breath and reality comes seeping back into her mind. Laying in her bed she rolls over and stares at the ceiling, reflecting on that dream. Knowing that dreams are made up of subconcious thoughts and feelings, she tries to make sense of it all.
Images from her dream that seemed so real at the time were flooding back. Here in her bed she is safe, but moments ago her mind was telling her that she was not. Or at least, her heart wasn't.
But it is now. Events had come about that would change the way that she dealt with herself. She would no longer hold out for, and accept, less than what she wanted and deserved. She is suprised at the interpretation of the sub-concious thoughts she was having just minutes ago, and wondered just how long she had felt at risk for another blow, and powerless to do anything about it.
As the dream faded away, she smiled, because she knew that the key players in her life that had left deep emotional scars, held a different ranking order. Peace flowed in and hope for the future brightened. For dreams are not reality.

All She Ever Wanted

She's sitting down at the computer screen, staring at it a long while. Her inbox is full of the usual, jokes from her friends, an invite to a candle party next week, a note from her mom telling her to take good care of herself and that if she were there in person she'd give her a hug. There were the deals on Rolex watches and Viagra if she would just click on a link, and reminders of the upcoming hockey game for one of the kids. But the one that has her attention is one from her husband. He is at work today and sent her a note. One she never expected. It reads:

Hey baby, I can't get you out of my mind today. Why don't we go out for dinner tonight and spend the evening together. You get the sitter and I'll take care of the rest. Love you.

Her mind goes into a kind of delighted shock. Something deep inside of her was stirring, like the memory of someone she used to be before kids, and bathrooms, and homework, and laundry.
She reads his message about a dozen more times, getting more excited each time. She pauses to quickly think through the logistics of getting the kids ready for a sitter, places the call, and has it all arranged in less than ten minutes.

She spends the rest of the day in happy anticipation of her evening out with the man she loves. She had a bounce in her step, and her daily tasks are done with an extra bit of satisfaction. She takes greater care on her hair and make up, and picking out something nice to wear.

The sitter arrives and still she waits for him to come. The phone rings just as she was starting to lose a bit of the high she had been riding on all day. It is him. He is running just a little behind, but would be there in less than five minutes. She sighs just a little and feels her good mood returning to full force almost immediately. She watches for his car and as it pulls into the drive, she says goodbye to the children, thanks the sitter again, and grabs her coat and purse. She doesn't wait for him to come in before she heads out the door, and meets him coming up the sidewalk. He walks straight to her and without slowing down, he has her in his arms, his mouth pressed against hers. She is taken off guard by his actions and her response to them. Butterflies.

Are you ready? he asks, and without waiting for an answer, he takes her hand and they walk to the car. As they pull out of the driveway, she looks at him, and he glances at her and smiles a smile that she knows he is exactly where he wants to be. It fills her spirit to almost overflowing and she knows in her heart that she is wanted.

Owned

She stood at the bedroom window, gazing down the road. Actually, it was more like glaring. She was watching. Waiting. Waiting for familiar headlights to turn down their road and pull into her driveway. Her stomach felt sick, and there was a heaviness in her chest that had become all too familiar. But her mind was crystal clear.

"Damn it, where is he?" she muttered under her breath. As she did so, she felt the flutters of panic inside. Her anger pushed them deeper for now, but she knew they would resurface again later.

She had stood there in the dark for almost an hour, and in her mind she knew that it was ridiculous. It had occurred to her that she might be slipping into craziness, knowing that looking up the road was hardly going to bring him home to her any sooner. But the compelling force that kept her rooted to that spot was almost unearthly.

"Why am I even here?" she chided.

Laura thought of herself as a smart woman. She had finished high school with reasonable grades, and had made her own way through nursing school. She had landed a job at the Grace hospital as a surgical nurse, and loved surgery in a way that would have surprised her seventh grade science teacher. She loved the rhythm of it. Methodical. Precise. Some of her fellow students didn't like the drama of it all, life hanging in the balance, one false move and life is lost. Laura didn't see it that way. Life and death was all very matter of fact to her. She had been raised in a faith-filled home, and knew that this life was just part of the grand scheme of things. She left it all in the hands of God. He was the one who decided who lived and died, not her.

Church was a big part of her growing up. Now she had found a place for it in her life, but didn't feel it was the be-all and end-all. She had no desire to be a religious fanatic, but did want to be a good person and follow the example of Christ. She had always liked to help people. That is what drew her to nursing. And to Ethan.

Ethan. Just the thought of his name tonight made her seethe.

Headlights turned down the quiet street, making emotion jump into her throat. Not him. Her stomach churned as she tried to breath through it and keep her vigil.

Ethan was unlike anyone else she had ever met before. Not that she had very much experience with men at the time. He was very good looking, confident with out being arrogant, and had an easy smile. But what was engraved on her mind after meeting him was the smell of him. It was intoxicating. There were times even now, after being together for so long, that she would pick up his cologne bottle to smell it, and all of those fantastic first feelings would come rushing in. It gave her a mild high.

They had met at a club that she used to frequent in her 'rebellious' days. He was a friend of a friend. When they had first been introduced, she noticed him taking her in. Not the obvious up and down assessment that was so common and even more irritating. He intentionally held her gaze. His words were deliberate. He repeated her name in their conversation as if he said it all the time, and made it sound like it was a pleasure to say. At least, that is the way he made her feel.

Through their conversation, she found out that they both had an interest in golfing. She told him about her dad taking her to the driving range when she was young, and then on to the course once she could hold her own. She loved those times with her dad. The memory of the anticipation in the car on the way of having his attention all to herself for a few hours was like a warm blanket to her now. The smell of the grass, the sound of the swoosh, the ping of contact. Her dad was a quiet man, and his encouragement of her and her progress was the same. If Laura had a good drive, after squinting to follow the ball, he'd often place his hand on her shoulder and say something like "Not too much longer and you'll be giving me a run for my money." She could feel herself glowing on the inside, and growing about an inch on the outside.

Ethan mentioned that the company he worked for was holding a charity golf tournament in a couple of weeks. He asked if she still played. She did, and he invited her to come and play on his team. He already had a couple of other guys lined up, but could easily use a fourth, and would she be interested. She politely said she would consider it, but would have to check her work schedule. Phone numbers were exchanged, and they spent a better part of their evening out together.

"Meeting at a club. Man, I am such an idiot. Since when does that ever work out?" The intense feelings of anger she was feeling for him were starting to take aim on her. "He must have known that I was a 'sweet girl' that he could take advantage of. That I'd be too dumb to do anything about it." She was aware that this could be a dangerous chain of thought to continue, that it was bound to happen after being angry for this long. Not yet. There will be no pity party tonight.

He had called a couple of days later to see if she was indeed willing to come with him. She had thought of little else. The girls at the hospital said she should go for it. She was young, beautiful, and it was in broad daylight, and in a public place. What could it hurt?

What could it hurt?

Laura agreed to meet him there. After trying on at least four different golf shirts, she settled on the apple green one that she knew really flattered her coloring. Plus, it hugged her curves in all the right places without being too revealing. She tied up her auburn hair in a slick ponytail, sprayed the fly aways, and was set. She arrived with some time to spare and took a look around at the raffle items and door prizes. The large sign advertising the event boldly stated that the charity the proceeds were to be donated to was the Grace Hospital. Imagine that, she thought. Ethan spotted her just as she noticed him and he made his way over to her.

"You didn't mention that this was for the Grace Hospital" she told him after he had greeted her with a warm smile and a quick, casual hug.

"I didn't? Oh, well, yeah. My family was in a car accident years ago, and my brother and my Mom had an extended stay there. The staff was amazing and our treatment was over and above. Events like that tends to change your life. I mean, this is our small way of returning our thanks to the place that gave us hope when there wasn't much of it."

"Are your Mom and brother okay?" she asked cautiously.

"They are just fine. Mild scarring for both of them, and my Mom's shoulder gives her grief now and again, but other than that, no lasting problems," he answered easily.

"So, you had a hand in organizing this today?"

"Yes, I did" he answered with a smile that she was beginning to enjoy.

They had time for a leisurely drink before it was their turn to head out onto the course, so they headed for the bar. There they met up with the two men that were to complete their foursome. Both of them were older, late forties, she guessed. And they were already having a great time. Laughing and joking continued the whole round, and she had a wonderful time. She had done well at her game, impressing the men, but was glad to see that the mood was intended to be fun rather than cutthroat. She stayed for the dinner that followed and enjoyed herself. Ethan was great company, and it all seemed so easy, right from the start.


As the relationship progressed, both of her friends pointed out how happy she seemed, and that he really was a great guy. She was happy. And he was great for her. The future could only bring bliss.

Her feet were going numb. A glance at the clock told her she'd been standing in the same place for over an hour and a half. Stewing. Almost to a boil.

Headlights.

It's him.

A jolt of anxiety courses through her whole body, and she hurries away from the window to avoid being seen. She climbs into the bed they share, and buries herself under the covers. She is shaking and trying to keep her breathing even. In the few minutes she is waiting for him to come inside, she is completely aware that she is not mad at him for any transgression committed on this night. Tonight, she was wrestling with a memory. One that has gripped her for a long time. As he makes his way into the bedroom, he kisses her on the forehead, and moves to get ready for bed.

"How was the game?" she asks, pleased that it came out so calm.

"Good. We stopped in for a quick beer after at the pub. I thought you'd be asleep by now?"

"I almost was," she lies. "I'm glad you had a good time."

"Thanks," he says as he crawls in bed beside her. "G'night honey."

"Night."

Laura rolls over with her back to him, and with clarity realizes this memory owns her.