There was silence between them, and he finally said, “Why don’t I stay for the night? I can sleep on the couch. Would that help?”
“Yes, I would like that.” His offer, Kathleen knew, came from the spirit of wanting to be helpful rather than an opportunity to make a move on her. With a start, she realized she trusted Joe. Trusted him more than she had ever trusted Ricky, and she had been married to Ricky. Oh, what a mess she’d made of her life. Thank God her aunt had given her the opportunity for a fresh start.
“Then it’s settled.”
She gave him a hug. “Thank you, Joe. You’re a very good friend.”
He shrugged. “It’s not a big deal. I’m glad to help.”
Curled up on the couch, with his head on a borrowed pillow, a lightweight blanket covering him, Joe was certain he wouldn’t be able to sleep, which was good. If the intruder came back, Ricky or whoever, he wanted to be prepared to jump him. He was irate on Kathleen’s behalf. How dare someone shake her sense of safety and the sanctity of her home? Was it someone who knew she lived alone? He thought about installing dead bolts the next day when he was repairing the glass. He’d have to get her permission to do so first, but she would probably think it was a good idea.
When sleep finally came, he fought against it, but it was beyond his control. His eyelids grew heavy, and although he struggled, his breathing slowed, and he sank further and further until he was deep in sleep and having a dream.
One of those dreams.
When he was awake, he referred to this one as the Death Dream, the most troubling, awful dream of them all. Joe was no longer Joe but had become the mystery man, helping the woman, the piano woman, out of a rowboat and onto dry land. It was nighttime, and the moon hung low in the sky. He saw the scene through the other man’s eyes and noted the slight flare of her skirt, the hem of which fell so low, he could see only a flash of ankle covered by a stocking. Despite the fact that she was more modestly attired than women in 1983, Joe could tell the man thought she was a knockout, absolutely gorgeous, the most beautiful woman in the world. He loved her.
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.”