Free Within a Dream - a Short Story by Ophelia Sikes Page B

yours. Or the
guy you’re chasing.” Her mouth quirked up. “Or both of them!”
    I laughed out loud at that.
    Maria smiled. “That’s better. C’mon, let’s
go take some more photos of the new olive oil soaps to post to our
Facebook page. Maybe we’ll get some likes!”
    I drew a smile on my face and nodded. I was
living my dream, after all. I should be more grateful for all I
had.

Chapter 3
    The T’s car rumbled beneath me. I didn’t
remember how I’d gotten onto it. Man, I must really be exhausted.
It wasn’t as packed as the morning commute, but the passengers were
alert and bubbly, so it wasn’t late night, either. Down in the
depths of the T it was hard to know if it was winter or summer, day
or night, except by making guesses by who was around you.
    Or looking at your cell.
    I pulled it out and glanced. November
2 nd . 10:30am. Guess it was daytime
after all.
    The T pulled in at my stop and I wearily
stepped out. I blinked against the bright sun as I came up out of
the station, then turned left in the crisp air. A few more streets
and I was walking up the steps to our apartment.
    I stepped through the front door and eased
it shut behind me. The space was neatly furnished in blue and
ivory, with windows looking out over a tree-lined street. A
painting of the U.S.S. Constitution hung over the long blue
sofa.
    “ Hi, honey!” came a call from the
bedroom. “I was getting worried. Another long night?”
    I glanced at the mirror in the hall. My
shoulder-length auburn hair was disheveled; I brushed my fingers
through it. The dark shadows beneath my eyes added years to my
thirty. I hung my coat on the hook and walked through the living
room to our bedroom.
    Hank was sitting up in bed, his cell on the
oak nightstand beside him. He was a few years older than me, in
good shape from his love of jogging and tennis. His dark hair was
cut short and he flashed that killer smile. “So much for our
Saturday trip to the Cape.”
    I groaned. “I’m sorry, It’s just –”
    He waved a hand and patted the side of the
bed. “Hey, I know how it goes. Don’t worry about it.” He winked.
“The suspects giving you trouble again?”
    I sighed. “Hank, you know I can’t talk about
it.” I peeled off the holster and dropped it in the chair by my
side of the bed, followed by my wallet and badge.
    He chuckled. “Guess I’m lucky I know you
work for the FBI at all.” His eyes sparkled. “Well, while I might
not know what you were up to earlier, I can see it didn’t go well.
So let me help with that.”
    He rolled out of bed, dressed just in black
shorts. I could see every ripple of his muscle in the golden
sunlight streaming through our windows.
    He swept me easily into his arms and carried
me over to the bed. He gently lay me down and his smile widened.
“You just wait there one minute, gorgeous - I’ll make this a day
worth remembering.”

    * * *

    Maria leaned over her salad, her dark eyes
wide with wonder. She glanced around the restaurant, her thick hair
swinging with the motion, before turning back to me, her fork still
hanging mid-air. “Wow, hunk was right! That’s what Hank looked
like?” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Good God, Suz, and then
what happened?”
    I sighed. “I woke up.”
    She blinked in astonishment. “What? You’re
some sort of a super-spy, guns and everything, with a god for a
husband, and you woke up ?”
    I shrugged, stabbing my fork into my own
salad. Low-fat dressing. No cheese. “I woke up,” I repeated. “Still
stuck in my hometown of Grafton. Same old gazebo on the common.
Nothing ever changes. Nothing exciting ever happens.”
    Maria crossed her arms. “Hey, I took you out
to dinner, didn’t I?”
    I smiled. “I appreciate it. And I love our
shop. I really do. But you know what I mean. I wish Hank would take me out sometimes.”
    Maria nudged me. “Maybe you should dream
more often. That dream-Hank seems quite a winner.”
    I giggled. “I should, shouldn’t I?