The bird in question was asleep in its cage. Alicia had no idea that birds snored until living with Pete. “No problem.”
Alicia texted Danica while Candice ran about the apartment, throwing things into her own bag.“My roommate’s going out of town for the weekend. You should bang me on her bed.”
She didn’t expect to get a response so quickly.“Love to, but I told you I’m in Manhattan this weekend.”Not “New York City” or even “NYC,” but she had to specify Manhattan.“Touch yourself while thinking of me instead.”
Alicia could do that. She did that, anyway.
Her phone vibrated again. “Will you be alone?”
“Yeah.”
“All right. Stay safe. I love you.”
Did she have to sound so ominous about it? Alicia picked up her book and resumed her reading, the phrasestay safereplacing every other sentence in her story.
That night, Alicia dreamed of the only thing that mattered to her anymore. Danica, holding her in her arms and whispering in her ear. Even in her dreams, she could smell her flowery perfume. It was as much a part of her as Danica was now.
“Will you marry me, Alicia?”she asked, her voice so soft that it felt like a breeze pressing upon her eyes and lips.“There is no other woman. Only you. Tell me no, and I will die.”
In her dreams, this was a valid thing to say.“Of course, Danica.”Alicia looked down at her hand and saw more than the emerald ring. She saw a wedding ring, as pure and clear as her love for Danica.“Why wouldn’t I marry you?”
Things change quickly in dreams, especially ones that are built on the heart’s innermost desires and the soul’s abundant fantasies. Alicia went from wearing a simple white wedding gown to the sort of luxurious cocktail dress she was now used to wearing. She sat at a dining table, ornate with golden candlesticks and silver platters full of scrumptious food prepared by the live-in chef. Sitting across from her was a young woman. No, a girl. A teenage girl with such perfect posture and the heavy look of all the successful family members who came before.
“You can stop studying for ten minutes to eat dinner with us,”Alicia said. Her heart was divided between concern and undying love for this girl.My daughter!So studious. So hardworking. So like her other mother.
“I cannot,”the girl said, her hatred for contractions hopefully nothing more than a silly phase.“The Warner girl is five points ahead of me in mathematics. If I am to acquire the summerinternship before her, I must beat her at her own logistical games.”
Alicia sighed, in frustration and in pride.“Don’t beat her too badly. Your mother has been spending the past two months trying to arrange a marriage between her sister and your brother. We need her to be hale in spirits and healthy in body.”
“Which brother?”
“Does it matter?”The boys were so close in age that either one was a candidate for the heir of the only other family that truly rivaled the Moreaus in wealth and social prosperity.
Soon, the table was full of both familiar and unknown faces. The Colberts arrived, Alicia’s parents rattling their grandchildren with good humor, never able to truly go head-to-head with someone of a Moreau’s aloof genetics. Terrence, battered by his conditions but still chipper enough to come to these dinners, played games with the two boys at the far end of the table.
The oldest daughter continued to study as if no one else were there. The youngest? She clung to her mother’s legs, the poor thing still so shy, even though she was in kindergarten.
“Precious.”Danica sat at the head of the table, flanked by candlesticks.“I love you.”
They held hands on the table, Alicia so content that she didn’t flinch when Mrs. Colbert lit one of the candles and promptly set the tablecloth on fire.
The children screamed, but did not run. The oldest girl subjected herself to fate with a resigned look that was classicallyMoreau. The boys retreated into their video games while Terrence shielded them from the first burst of flames. Linda grabbed the baby and shrieked in terror when her husband lit up like one of the candles.
“What have you done?”Alicia asked her wife. They were the only ones untouched by the flames that ravaged their family.
It was not her wife looking back at her. It was the man not invited to the family dinner.
“Goodbye, Ms. Colbert.”
Alicia looked across the table. Julia Moreau sat in the chair that the oldest girl once occupied.“I told you,”she said, shaking her head.“You didn’t listen. You didn’t run when I told you to.”
A coughing fit snapped Alicia out of her dream. She kept coughing.
And coughing.
She couldn’t breathe.
Nor could she see. Her room was so full of smoke that it was a miracle she wasn’t dead.
