I was in a dream, but every time I tried to wake myself, I couldn’t. It was Christmas Eve and I was out on the dock of Willow Lake. A light snow fell down, and I peered out at the man ice fishing off the dock.
“Hello.” I went up to him. “I’m dreaming.” I’d always had a keen sense of when I was dreaming, and even as a child, I was able to wake myself up if it got too scary.
“Is it a nice dream?” the old man asked. He looked to be in his seventies and was a little unkempt, but nice.
“I think so.” I looked out at the bright, sunny day and nodded.
He patted the spot next to him and I sat down, taking the extra fishing pole he offered. Why not? I wasn’t doing anything else.
The lake was completely frozen over, but a twelve-inch hole had been cut out. People in Willow Harbor loved their fishing year-round.
“I’m Pete,” the man said.
“Hello, Pete. I’m Hannah. Are you dreaming too?”
He chuckled. “Kind of. Do you remember what happened before your dream?”
I sighed, thinking deeply about that. A flash of memory did come back to me and a frown pulled at my lips.
Jack. Seattle. The semi-truck. I dropped the fishing pole and hugged my arms, suddenly cold.
“You’re going to be okay,” Pete whispered.
I looked over at him with a renewed interest. Long beard, kind eyes that looked right into my soul.
“I am?” I asked, suddenly unsure if this was a dream.
A little boy’s laughter filled the space and we both turned to look out over the ice. He was about five years old and ice skating with a man who had his back to us. The man was holding the boy’s hands and twirling him around, causing the boy to cackle in laughter. His laugh somehow reached the very center of my heart, and I dropped my arms, feeling warm again.
“That’s Noah,” Pete said. “Your son.”
Surprise and confusion washed over me. “I don’t have a son,” I said, watching the man with the little boy.
There was something about the man that was familiar to me. His build, the back of his head, his dark hair.
“Well, this is a dream, remember?” Pete told me. “That’s your future son. You haven’t met him yet.”
My heart beat frantically in my chest. This was certainly a wild dream.
“And who’s the man?” I asked because he still hadn’t turned, but something about him nagged at me.
As if he’d heard what I said, the man turned.
Jack.
He looked older and had a full beard. He broke into a handsome grin when he saw me. “Hi, Pete!” He waved.
“He can’t see you,” Pete told me, waving back at Jack. “But that’s Noah’s father.”
Noah’s father. Jack was Noah’s father. My future son was…
“Do I marry Jack?” I looked at Pete, bewildered but also filled with excitement.
“What do you think?” Pete asked me.
I peered at Jack as he played with the boy again. Now Jack was laughing, a deep carefree laugh that made my heart grow wings.
“I…would love for that to be true, but he’s not a believer.”
