Page 32 of Don’t Open Your Eyes

“Annabelle, wait. I have something—”

Annabelle’s alarm roused her from her dream, and her eyes flew open. She still had butterflies in her stomach as she pictured the man again, his twinkling eyes, the curly hair, and his fit physique. She couldn’t remember ever fabricating an entire person in her dreams before. She’d had the occasional dream about a celebrity crush or an old boyfriend, but the man in this dream was so vivid, so real. She’d never seen him before, of that she was sure. She would have remembered.

She suddenly felt guilty. She was happily married to a wonderful man. So what if they didn’t agree on everything? Even after finding out about Margaurite breaking her arm at gymnastics, James wouldn’t change his position on Annabelle’s dreams, insisting that it was a crazy coincidence. She attributed it to the fact that as a medical doctor, he had a hard time believing in anything that couldn’t be scientifically proven. In every other way, though, he was supportive and thoughtful. Husbands didn’t have to be in sync with every facet of their wives, after all, that was what girlfriends were for.

Annabelle spoke aloud. “I’m grateful for my family. I’m grateful that Olivia wasn’t hurt. I’m grateful for my job. I’m grateful for my husband.” But even as she spoke her affirmations out loud, her mind drifted back to the man with the arresting blue eyes.

Before

Annabelle twirled the stem of her wineglass in her hand, hoping that Randy wouldn’t notice she’d yet to take a sip. She’d arrived at his house a little while ago and was trying to work up the nerve to tell him her news.

“What do you think about going to the Bahamas over spring recess?” Randy asked, taking a long swallow of his wine.

“Um, yeah, maybe. But there’s something I need to talk to you about first.”

He put his glass down. “What is it?”

She blew out a pent-up breath. “Okay so, remember a while back, when we didn’t use a condom?”

His eyes grew wide. “Yeah?”

“Well, turns out we should have. I’m five weeks pregnant.” Annabelle looked straight ahead as the words left her lips, afraid to meet Randy’s eyes.

“Oh. I was not expecting that. What, I mean, how are you…what are you thinking you want to do?”

“I’m not sure. I guess I was wondering what your thoughts were.”

He stood up and began to pace, not speaking for a few minutes, then came back over and sat down, taking her hands in his. “Look, I love you. This is a shock for sure, but I’m here whatever you decide. I’ve always wanted kids, and if you want…I mean, it happened quickly, but we know how we feel about each other.”

She looked deep into his eyes, trying to discern if he was merely trying to make her feel better, or if he was sincere. “I was really freaked out at first, but, yeah, there’s a part of me that thinks maybe it’s meant to be. I think I’d like to keep it. I’ve always been a believer in fate. But what about money? You’re still trying to make a name as a journalist, and no offense, I can’t believe the university pays its professors that much.”

“None taken. And you’re right. I’m not rolling in it, but we can figure it out. If you move in here, that saves your rent.”

“What about James? It’s not fair to him for me to move in. And then when the baby comes, what then?”

“Slow down. You’re due when?”

“September.”

“It’s February. James won’t care if you move in now. You’re here a lot anyhow, and he adores you. Our lease renews in August, so at that point he can find a new roommate, and you and I will get a place together.”

“I don’t need to move in yet. Everything’s happening too fast. I haven’t even decided for sure what I’m going to do. I’m still worried about finding a job. I mean, who’s going to want to hire me when I’m out to here?” She held her hands out in front of her stomach.

“You’ll find a job.” Randy bit his lip. “You know what, let me check with a friend of mine. He’s got a marketing company that does social media for a bunch of brands.”

“That would be great,” she said, her spirits soaring. This was going so much better than she’d dared hope. She put a hand on his arm. “Are you sure about this? I need to know that you really want this. I couldn’t take it if you started to resent me.”

He gave her a tender kiss on the lips. “Annabelle, I love you. I’m not going anywhere.”

Scarlett

Scarlett was alone in the house. Dylan had taken Olivia to her dental appointment for braces. Olivia wasn’t even upset about having to get them. If it had been Scarlett, she would have been super pissed about having wires in her mouth and having to give up gum, but Olivia took it in stride like she did everything. Sometimes Scarlett wished she was more like her sister. But she agreed with Ben; you were born with your personality, so no sense in wishing you were someone else.

Her science teacher had done a unit on nature versus nurture, which Scarlett found fascinating. Her teacher said the debate was still going on, with some people believing that your behavior and choices were hardwired into you, while others believed that your environment had more to do with who you became. Scarlett decided she was in the nature camp. She and her sister were raised in the same environment, but they were as different as night and day. Her teacher pointed out that due to their age difference, they didn’t have the same parents. That time would have changed them, and when Olivia came along, they may have acted differently toward her than Scarlett at the same age. But Scarlett thought about her friends at the yacht club, Dana and Ruby, who were identical twins, yet their personalities were super different.

If genes made you who you were, then she wondered who she took after. Definitely not her father, who was all about order and structure. And even though she looked like her mom, her personality was nothing like hers. Her mom was so easygoing, more like Olivia. Scarlett didn’t think she was like Gram and Granddad, either. She didn’t remember her grandmother on her mom’s side because she had died when Scarlett was only four. She had a grandfather, too, but her mom wouldn’t say much about him, only that he wasn’t in her life. So, who was she like? It bugged her and made her feel like she didn’t belong anywhere.

She walked upstairs, went into her parents’ bedroom, and opened her mother’s closet. She sure has a lot of shoes, Scarlett thought, looking at them all lined up on shelves on one of the walls. Everything was organized so neatly, with all Annabelle’s purses on their own shelves, and her clothes sorted by style—suits in one section, dresses in another, and blouses in their own space. But it was nothing compared to Gram’s closet, which was twice the size of this one, and where all her handbags had their own silk bags with the designer’s name on them. Her mom called Gram a “clotheshorse,” which Scarlett thought was a weird expression.