“You’re dreaming lucidly now. You’re in a dream, but you’re aware of it.”
“Okay.” She looked out the window of her dream-house. The light outside went from nonexistent to full sun in the blink of an eye. She watched as Mark’s car pulled into the driveway.
The dream flickered. Mark stood in the kitchen. No; it wasn’t Mark—it was a dream-Mark.
A dream-Erin walked into the kitchen.
This was how it always started.
Erin and Andy watched the scene unfold.
“Where were you?” said dream-Erin.
“I had to work late,” said dream-Mark. “Lots to do.”
“You’re always working late these days.”
“So? You don’t want me to be successful?”
“Of course I want you to be successful. But we hardly see each other any more, Mark. I’m lonely.”
Mark took a sports drink out of the refrigerator and twisted the cap off. “Oh? Is that a threat? Are you threatening to find someone else?”
“That’s ridiculous! How can you even say that?”
“Well, with you acting so weird, what am I supposed to think?” He guzzled the drink and dropped the empty container on the kitchen counter with more force than necessary.
The dream flickered again. The Mark and Erin of the dream disappeared, and the sunlight died, leaving the house in silent darkness.
“You okay?” said Andy.
“Yeah,” said Erin. “I dream about that all the time. It’s surreal to watch from the outside, though.”
The walls around them shifted and re-formed to reveal the interior of a chain coffee shop, decorated with dark wood and accented with sleek fixtures in stylish neutral tones.
“This is definitely a nightmare,” said Andy. “This place has the worst coffee in the world.”
“What is it with you and your coffee snobbery?”
“I’m naturally judgmental.” He winked at her and ruffled his wings.
“Oh, no,” said Erin.
“What?” He followed her gaze across the coffee shop.
“It’s me again.”
Andy stared. “And Genevieve.”
Erin’s face hardened.
Dream-Genevieve, with long blonde hair trailing over the back of her chair, sat with her back to them, deep in conversation with dream-Erin at a table for two. Their words became audible as if someone had suddenly turned up the volume of their voices.
“I don’t know, Genny. Something’s just not right.”
“Don’t overthink it.” Dream-Genevieve sipped from her mocha shake drizzled in ribbons of caramel, then paused to wipe some whipped cream from the tip of her nose. “He’s just busy.”
“I guess … ”
“He just wants to earn more money. Is that so bad?” Dream-Genevieve gazed across the coffee shop rather than make eye contact with Dream-Erin.
“I guess not. But he doesn’t seem too happy with me right now, either.”
“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” Dream-Genevieve said, looking down into her drink, which had rapidly dissolved into an unappetizing mess.
The room likewise dissolved, returning Erin and Andy to the darkened dream-house where they’d started.
“Damn it,” said Erin. “No matter how many times I relive that stupid conversation, I can’t believe I bought it. She was lying to me the whole time—and I trusted her. Like an idiot.” She rubbed her hands across her forehead. “She had been cheating with him for months at that point.”
“Would it help to cancel all her credit cards and hide a fish in her car?”
Erin sighed. “I don’t even know.”
Andy patted her back. “Just say the word and she’ll get a box of unlabeled chocolate covered ants mailed right to her door. From Mark.”
Erin snorted. “Not that she needs extra chocolate presents. She’s the one in a relationship right now. You could send me some.”
“I would never send you chocolate covered ants.”
“What kind of chocolates would you send me?”
Andy’s red outline of light deepened in color.
“Are you blushing?” said Erin. “Is that how demons blush?” Why would he blush, anyway?
“I wasn’t blushing. I was just thinking.” Andy attempted to glower at her.
He wasn’t good at glowering. Erin laughed so hard she had to grab on to Andy for support to keep from toppling over.
“This is what I get for living around mortals for a few thousand years,”he muttered to himself. “Hang-ups. I should have minded my business and stayed out of trouble, but no—I was ‘bored’ and ‘needed something to do.’” His fingers shaped the air quotes, which hung in space like afterimages before fading into darkness.
Erin batted her eyelashes at the flustered demon. “You’re not having fun?”
He looked her up and down. “All right, mortal. You want chocolate? Give me your hands.”
She backed up, holding her hands out of reach.
“I’m not going to bite you, Erin. Trust me.”
Erin relented and placed her hands in his. Even in the dream, his hands felt unusually warm.
“Now. Think about a box of chocolate. Think about the best chocolate you’ve ever tasted. Imagine the pieces arrayed in a beautiful box just for you. Aren’t they pretty? Like shiny, edible jewels with colorful fillings. Can you see it?”
Erin nodded.
“This is your dream. You’re in control. Imagine the box.”
A splendid box appeared between them, hovering in mid-air.
“Take it.”
Erin released Andy’s hands and took the box. “How did you do that?”
Andy shook his head. “I didn’t. You did. I just helped you get the hang of it.”
She eagerly lifted the lid of the box. Sure enough, it brimmed with chocolate bonbons of every kind. “Can I eat them?”
“This is your dream. You can do anything you want.”
Erin bit into one and felt the chocolate melt on her tongue. “It’s delicious!”
He smiled. “Of course it is. You made it, after all.”
“Do you want to try one?”
Her suggestion brought an adorable look of surprise to his face. “Sure, if I may.”