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This was the meal we made. All of us. Together.
Mom told us it was her favorite summer meal growing up: a cold plate. Cold plates became a New Hampshire tradition.
That first time, she got Thaddeus and Elijah peeling potatoes for potato salad, me and Jonah passing her ingredients and then rolling the cold cuts into cylinders and arranging them on a platter. Nay and Ash were her stirring squad. My father watched all of this with a smile on his face, keeping Grace, who was too little to help on his lap, joy in his eyes as he watched us all work together to make dinner.
Because he got the easy job, he washed the dishes afterwards. Me, Thad, and Eli dried and put them away. Motown played on the radio. My parents slow-danced in the kitchen.
I feel a lump of emotion in my throat that Grace chose this meal for today. We recreated it many times at the New Hampshire place, but it was never as magical as that first time. That first time when Mom acted like a mother and the rest of us sopped it up like little sponges.
I wolf down some potato salad, pasta salad, a couple crustless sandwich quarters, and some cold cuts wrapped around cheese. I wash it all down with a cold beer and climb back into bed with my wife. She’s asleep in my white dress shirt.
“You scare me,” I tell him. “Honestly. Deep in my soul, I feel like I should be terrified to let my guard down with you.”
“Why?” Dream Derek asks.
“It’s hard to explain,” Dream me says.
“Try. You can be real with me.”
“You sure about that?” I ask.
“Entirely.” He smiles that dazzling wide smile of his.
We’re in our bed, but it’s on a cloud. There are a mated pair of unicorns on the next cloud over, nuzzling noses. Their little baby unicorn sleeps curled in a ball beside them, but close to the edge.
I smile at the baby, knowing she’s safe. Because she has little pink wings.
I look away from the unicorns, back into Derek’s eyes and say, “You definitely scare me.”
“Why?” he asks.
“You could be everything I everwanted. But it might be an illusion. I’m telling myself to try to believe, but I’m so, so scared.”
“I'm real. Fall, Chloe. Open your arms wide, tip your head towards the sky. And lean back. Way back. Okay? Let go. Feel me catch you. Take what you deserve. You have to. I'm gonna make you, anyway. Let yourself have it early. Save yourself the angst. You don’t want more angst. Do you?”
Derek plucks a piece of cloud up and feeds it to me. It’s the sweetest cotton candy on my tongue.
I swallow the cotton candy and the bed vanishes, the cloud evaporates, Derek’s not here, and I’m suddenly plummeting. The unicorns lean over and watch from their cloud as I fall.
My eyes bolt open. I’m disoriented. My heart is racing. But I remember where I am. Derek’s childhood room. But, I’m alone. I hear distant male voices. They’re coming from the balcony. I slip into the adjoining bathroom and use the facilities, wash my face with a new bottle of top-shelf face wash I find in the medicine cabinet along with a new toothbrush. There’s already a wet toothbrush sitting on the vanity, a wrapper in the trash bin.
I start on my teeth, feeling strange. And emotional. I stare in the mirror and tell myself once again to ponder my power here. Use it. Could I get everything I want? Is it possible? Is it safe to tip my head back and let myself fall?
Am I making lemon meringue pie out of lemons? Or am I getting drunk on lemon drops? Delusional, thinking I can somehow wield things in my favor and not have this end in a fiery, messy end that’s statistically speaking, likely to only end with one of us dead or him in prison.
With Derek, it feels like I won the lottery, but with a caveat. That he’s crazy. That he’ll go to extremes to have what he wants with no fear of consequences and that’s the price I have to pay to have what I want.
Where will the crazy go if he gets all he wants? Sure, the twitching stopped yesterday, and he credits me with that, but what if I can’t always stop it?
I don’t know; I guess I’ll find out.
I peer out the sliding doors. He’s sitting on some patio furniture beside Jonah. He’s wearing trackpants and a hoodie. His feet are bare. Jonah is dressed in jeans and a cable knit sweater. Grace stands at the railing that overlooks the pool area, that gazebo. She’s in a thick robe and slippers. I see coffee mugs out there with them.
Derek sees me and his eyes light up in a way that has butterflies fluttering in my stomach. I wave. It looks nippy out, but I see a patio heater out there, too.
I go to the tall dresser in the closet and open the top drawer, hoping there are some socks I can wear to go outside. There’s a suit hanging in the closet and a pair of shoes on the floor for him as well as a pair of womens’ slippers with the tags still on. The drawer is full, four piles organized with two stacks of socks and underwear for men and another two stacks for a woman. All with tags on them. The women’s ones are basic bikini briefs in size medium. Three pairs, black, white, flesh-toned. Two bras. One black, one white. My size as well.
I check the second drawer. Left side, mens’ T-shirts, right side, womens’ tops.
