Dovetail(63)

The man said something, and she turned her head and smiled at him, both of them giddy at getting a chance to be alone. The anticipation the man felt was palpable. There was something he wanted to tell her, something that would be life-changing.

Joe couldn’t get a good look at her face, just an impression. Her light-brown hair was styled in a more formal way than he’d seen in the Piano Dream.

The dream continued. Joe was carried away by the next sequence of events, an unwilling passenger on a train that went off course in a horrible way each and every time. The man led the woman farther away from the water, and they kissed passionately. This part always made Joe a little sad. Although he was no stranger to intimacy with past girlfriends, he’d never been flooded with unmitigated joy the way this man was. The couple whispered to each other things Joe couldn’t quite make out, although he knew they were words of endearment.

Through a blur, Joe sensed that the two had been interrupted by another man. He clearly heard the other man’s angry voice saying, “What the hell do you think you’re doing? I know what you are.”

I know what you are.

Those words struck home with the man, and a negative feeling washed over him. Shame? Regret? Joe could never quite identify the feeling because the emotion was fleeting and overshadowed by what happened next. The angry man pulled out a gun and waved it in the air. The two men exchanged words Joe couldn’t quite make out, and the situation escalated, with the angry man pointing the gun straight at him.

In the blink of an eye, the man’s sweetheart, the love of his life, stepped in front of him, and the gun went off, a boom accompanied by a flash of light in the dark.

The woman, the most beautiful woman in the world, fell back against him, and he caught her, both of them falling to the ground. He cradled her in his arms while a pool of blood on the front of her dress widened and spread. She whispered something, and he cried out, “No, no!” His voice caught in his throat, and he began to sob.

When Joe awoke from this dream, he was always heartbroken and crying, his pillow damp with tears. This time was different only because for the first time, right at the end of the dream, he was finally able to see the woman’s face.

It was Kathleen.





CHAPTER FORTY-ONE





1916


Dearest John, Your news about the Barn Dance made me smile, and I haven’t stopped smiling since. I am remaking one of my mother’s dresses for the occasion and might even wear one of her brooches. It is not the fanciest affair, but those attending do usually wear their Sunday best.

You may not know this, but the Barn Dance has been a Pullman tradition since my father was a little boy. He and my mother went when they were courting, and so did most of the married couples in this town. I am so happy that my father is allowing us to go together. To have a whole evening to ourselves, away from the prying eyes and ears of the younger Bennett girls, is a gift. Time spent with you this way is something I’ve been dreaming of.

John, you said there should be no secrets between us, so I am also going to share something with you. Edna told me something in strictest confidence and said I could confide in you as well. It has happened that she has fallen in love with Howie, and now her heart is a little broken because Howie seems more interested in Pearl. Pearl, of course, does not see Howie as a suitor. Howie is accompanying Edna to the dance only because Mrs. Donohue does not care for Pearl and encouraged him to ask Edna.

Might I ask a favor of you? If you speak to Howie, man-to-man, could you put in a good word for Edna? She is my dearest friend and truly a fine young woman. She has a giving spirit and is as good as the day is long. Howie does not realize this, but he would be fortunate to have her affections. I cannot help but feel that Howie is being influenced by outward appearances and as a result is missing out on what really matters.

I am counting down the minutes until I see you again.

Yours forever, Alice





CHAPTER FORTY-TWO





1983


Late the next morning, Joe walked into Secondhand Heaven, keys in hand. He’d spent the morning fixing the broken window and installing dead bolts on both the front and back doors at Kathleen’s house.

From behind the register, she smiled when he slid the keys across the counter. “Your house is now officially secure,” he said. “I’ve changed the locks, fixed the glass, and added dead bolts to both entrances. I also took the liberty of buying you a very large, very mean dog named Junker. If he doesn’t let you into the house, I’m sorry, but you’re just going to have to move. It’s the only way.”

He was glad to see her laugh. Even that morning as they drank coffee at her kitchen table, she seemed worried about the intruder returning, darting glances at the taped cardboard. In the light of day, it looked even less effective as a barrier than it had the night before. A paltry defense, good only against insects.

“I can’t thank you enough, Joe.” She picked up the keys and slipped them in her pocket, then opened the cash register. “How much do I owe you?”

He waved her money aside with a shake of his head. “No charge. Just one of the many fine benefits of my friendship.”

From across the way came Marcia’s audible scoff. They followed the sound to see her, feather duster in hand, no longer dusting but watching their exchange. “Heard you spent the night over at Kathleen’s,” she said with a knowing grin.