Her Thirties Part Seven

person-girl-sun-woman-hair-photography-607382-pxhere.com.jpg

Girl From the Dream

The trip to the ballpark was successful—we found our murder weapon and probably solved an 80 year-old cold case.

Abe is pleased as hell—he may get a promotion for catching a cop killer—even though the perp is dead and in his grave—still, the surviving family has closure and the morale of the force gets a boost.

I’d say it was a win-win for all involved.

We drive Harry back home, and Abe promises he’ll arrange for him to see a pursuit car. Then we head back to the university.

On the return trip, I’m elated—I’m as proud of Harry as if he were my own dad.

“An amazing guy, Harry—and still fascinated with fast cars.”

“Fascinated?” Abe yelps, “the old guy probably wants to drive it on the test track.”

We both laugh, but honestly, I can see Harry behind the wheel driving it and having a helluva time doing it.

Abe snorts at that moment and I know he’s thinking the same thing too.

“You know, if I weren’t still on duty, I’d buy you a drink.”

“You’re taking me to my first Leaf’s game—I’d say that’s gratitude enough.”

He looks at me, eyes crinkling, the same way he looked the day we met.

“We just hit it off, didn’t we, Scott—you and me? —Kind of unlikely, I’d say.”

“Why—because you’re a cop?”

“Naw, I got lots of buddies who aren’t cops—but don’t have lots of friends—at least, none I’d take to a leaf’s game.”

He laughs like hell at that, as if amused the two of us could be friends—but funny as it was, we are—and we both know it.

That night I have a dream involving Sam—or, at least, she’s in it at the beginning. It’s weird.

We’re in a restaurant and everyone’s dressed in the style of the Roaring Twenties. She looks gorgeous, wearing a silver-sequined gown with a matching, close-fitting sequined hat. I’m dressed in black.

There’s a big band and people are dancing. Sam glitters and everyone’s eyes are glued to her.

I don’t recall what she’s saying, but even now, I can still sense the ambiance of the room and the icy tinkle of her laughter cutting through all the other sounds.

And then, the scene shifts to a back room. There’s another girl—a gorgeous blonde, with huge brown eyes that totally captivate me.

She’s upset for some reason and I’m trying to comfort her. I put an arm around her and she rests her head on my shoulder. I impulsively lean in and kiss her. It’s a sweet, lingering kiss—neither of us want to end.

I lie awake, still feeling the coolness of her mouth, and the silken touch of her skin.

I don’t know what to make of it—I never dream like that.

I resolve to put it out of my mind figuring it’s just some repressed desire on my part to continue fantasizing about Sam.

It’s over, I tell myself. It’s really over—but inside, I’m not sure I manage to convince myself.