She followed him and sat on the couch next to him. “It’s okay.” She caught his gaze with her own. “You can talk about it. It’s not like I haven’t seen it before.”
“That was your wedding photo album,” he said.
“It was,” said Erin.
“That woman. Next to you. In your wedding photos. She was at the church yesterday.”
“She was.”
“She was sitting with your ex-husband at church.”
Erin nodded.
“That was Genevieve? One of your bridesmaids?”
Erin nodded again.
“Your friend?”
“Not anymore.”
Andy picked up Nancy Drew, who had followed them into the living room, and held her close. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.”
“Was she your—best friend?” he asked.
“I thought so at the time,” said Erin.
“Oh, Hell,” said Andy. He gently patted Nancy Drew, his hands gliding over her furry back. “Would you like me to make all her hair fall out?”
Erin made a noise like a cross between a sob and a laugh.
“Sign her up on a hundred telemarketing lists?”
“No,” Erin said. She couldn’t help giggling.
“Come on, work with me. Even Nancy wants to help,” he said, holding Nancy Drew up.
Nancy looked about as helpful as a small elderly dog could look.
“I don’t know,” said Erin, sounding doubtful. “Mosquitoes? She hates mosquitoes.”
“See, I knew you could do it!”
Erin managed a half-smile. “It shouldn’t bother me so much. But sometimes it’s hard to stop thinking about it. I can’t even escape it in my sleep.”
“You dream about it?” asked Andy.
“All the time. Like a broken record.”
Andy carefully set Nancy Drew down.“That’s unfortunate.”
“Tell me about it.” Erin plucked a strawberry from the tray and took a bite.
“Have you ever tried lucid dreaming?”
Erin swallowed the bite of strawberry. “What’s lucid dreaming?”
“Lucid dreaming is when you become aware that you’re dreaming. Sometimes, you can even control your dreams.”
“What good would that do?” She selected a piece of cheese to follow the strawberry.
Andy’s eyes lit up. “Let’s see. Well, instead of being tormented by scenes of the past, you could find yourself equipped with an armload of tomatoes to throw at anyone who displeased you in the dream. Or you could just banish them from the dream entirely.”
Erin laughed. “That sounds fun. I can’t imagine being able to do that, though.”
“Maybe I can help.”
His last statement, so casually delivered, hung in the air like a promise.
9
That night, Erin pulled on her pajamas and stepped into her slippers. The red wine had disappeared in the wash. She folded down one side of the bed and fluffed her pillow before dimming the lights in the room, leaving the bathroom light on and the door ajar for a trickle of illumination.
She found Andy on the other side of the house. He sat on the floor of the spare bedroom surrounded by stacks of books he had collected from around the house.
“Hey,” said Erin.
Andy lowered the book he was reading—The Screwtape Letters—and looked up. “Hey.” He placed the book on a stack and stood up gracefully.
“I was going to turn in.”
He approached her softly, as if she were a deer and likely to bolt. “Are you sure about this?”
Erin nodded. “I’m sure.”
“It can be a little strange, going lucid for the first time.”
“I can imagine. But I’m willing to try anything.” Erin paused. “How will you do it?”
“Do what?”
“How will you enter my dreams? What happens?”
“When you’re fast asleep and dreaming, I’ll know. Then I’ll close my eyes and follow you into the dream. I think it’s not unlike what mortals call meditation.” He laid his hand on her cheek as if he were soothing a fevered child. “You’ll see me as a natural part of your dream.”
“Will you have to be in the room with me?”
He lowered his hand. “Being nearby is good enough.”
“That’s good,” said Erin. “I’m not sure I could fall asleep with someone staring at me.”
Andy chuckled. “Goodnight, Erin.”
“Goodnight, Andy.”
Erin returned to her bedroom alone, oddly aware of Andy’s presence even though he was on the other side of the house. She crawled into the bed and drew the covers up.
Falling asleep had been difficult for a long time. Waiting for a demon to show up in her dreams should have made it worse. In a way, the anticipation did make it hard to fall asleep, somewhat like trying to fall asleep the night before a big vacation. Still, it was a far better sensation than the angst-filled nights of tossing and turning and going over every terrible event in her mind until she dropped, exhausted, into a sleep filled with torturous dreams.
She rolled over and sighed. Random images flitted through her mind.
The bed, the room, and the world around faded from her awareness.
She found herself standing alone in the living room of the darkened house. She shivered.
Andy’s voice floated over her shoulder. “Erin,” he said.
Erin turned to look for him. “Andy?”
He appeared out of the darkness, a faint corona of red highlighting him all the way around, even to the tips of his wings, which he extended to full length before folding them behind him like an eagle. “Do you remember? You’re dreaming now.”
“But it feels so real,” said Erin. She looked around and realized that beyond the living room, the scene faded into utter blackness. “This is really weird.”
“Do you want to wake up?”
“No!” Erin placed her hand on his arm. “Not yet. What happens next, though?”
Andy shrugged. “That’s up to you. And your subconscious mind.”
Erin patted herself. “If I’m here, how am I separate from my subconscious?”