The man wore a dark green ski mask. He pointed a gun at the convenience-store clerk and fired once, knocking off most of his nose and the rest of his face with it. Two men, one wearing a police uniform and one a dark suit, charged into the store soon after the gunshot. They were followed closely by a blonde woman. All three were faceless. The man in the ski mask spun around and fired at them.
There was light on the bed when she opened her eyes and left the dream. It was the kind of bright, slanted light that comes through blinds and wakes you up all of a sudden, pestering you to come out and play. You put your hand over your eyes to protect yourself from its exuberance. Then you feel its warmth, realize what it is, and roll over on your stomach, irritated but certain you know what it is. Certainty is a good thing.
The man in bed next to her wasn't Joe. In retrospect she was surprised at how little time it took her to realize it wasn't her husband in bed next to her.
Allison knew she'd gone to bed with him the night before; she was quite certain of this. A certainty. He'd given her a kiss on the forehead and, tired, she'd fallen asleep almost immediately.
The phone rang. It was that tinny little whine of a ring that sounds worse in the morning because all anyone wants is just fifteen more minutes of sleep.
Lee stretched. "Alison, get it already!" He slowly pulled himself up out of the bed. "You do realize it's on your side, right?"
Allison tried to move. She'd had many visions, many dreams, many visits from the quote-unquote other side, but this was different. The phone finally stopped ringing because she just lay there, staring at the ceiling. Confused.
Lee sighed. "I guess if it's important they'll call back."
Then the alarm clock went off. She jerked her head toward the clock; the time was currently posting at 6:30. Not knowing what else to do, she finally leaned over and turned it off. It seemed like a normal thing to do. It was loud as hell.
"God, thank you," Lee said. She watched him rub the back of his head in the way men did when they'd cut their hair too short and didn't know what to do with it. It made her smile momentarily before she realized that she was still in the middle of some sort of insanity.
He sat up, shirtless, and stretched again. Then he leaned over her and kissed her cheek. "We still meeting for lunch?"
She couldn't speak, something that usually wasn't a problem. If this was a dream, which she decided it had to be, she figured she'd just wait it out silently. Her dreams weren't usually lucid like this, though. She wasn't often aware of the fact that she was in a dream.
Lee apparently didn't notice that she was speechless. Allison watched as he walked toward a room at the corner of the bedroom, she assumed the bathroom.
He turned as he reached the door frame, leaned against it, and looked at her. "What time is that meeting with Judge Cayce? Ten? Do you have time for lunch after?" He rubbed the back of his head again. Cute he was.
Lying on her side, Allison nodded. Speechless was still a good word for her current mental state. Sure there was time for lunch after. Everything before was the concern.
"Good deal," he said, smiling a bit, and turned into the bathroom. She heard the shower turn on at about the same time the phone rang again.
Allison grabbed the phone this time. She moved to push her bangs out of her eyes, but they weren't there. Those damn bangs weren't there. "Hello?" she asked in her soft, hazy accent.
"Mrs. Scanlon?" a woman asked.
Allison didn't know how to answer that one. She wasn't Mrs. Scanlon.
Fortunately the woman continued without her, as most busy people tend to do. "Judge Cayce is going to have to postpone the meeting. He sincerely apologizes. We're trying to reschedule everyone for two. A difficult task considering how busy all you lawyers are. Can you make it?"
"Sure," Allison replied faintly. "No problem." She had no idea what madness this was, but she had decided as a young girl that when this kind of inexplicable thing happened it was best to be genial. It usually worked itself out.
Dead people, visions of the future and of the past and of the present … but married to another man? This was a new one. She would have to wake up soon before she really started to worry.
She laid on her back and listened to the shower. The sound of the water didn't calm her, though, and her heart pounded. After a few minutes Lee appeared again in the door frame.
He had a way of filling up a door frame. He walked to a dresser and pulled out a pair of black pants. She lay on her side, watching him dress. She felt like a voyeur who was peeking in a window, not able to help herself, knowing it wasn't her place to watch.
He winked at her as he pulled on and buttoned a light blue shirt. "Who was on the phone?"
Allison was surprised that she was able to respond in a moderately coherent manner: "Someone calling for the judge? The meeting is postponed till, ah, two? I think?"
"Ya think?" he asked, laughing with his eyes. He walked over to the bed and leaned in to kiss her. Allison pulled back quickly, then stopped. It was dream, right? What else could it be?
She felt his lips on her cheek, a long, soft, kiss that made her cheek burn. He grinned as he pulled away and winked again. "So we'll meet for lunch before the meeting? Noon somewhere downtown?" He laughed. "I've got a hell of a lot of paperwork, so I'll probably be stuck there all day."
His laugh made her smile. "Sounds good," she said softly.
Then he was gone, telling her he'd see her later, telling her he loved her, telling her to make sure to remember to get gas in the truck because they were going to some sort of a birthday party that evening.
Allison listened to all of it, laying on her side, intently watching him behave with an ease that she had never seen in their work together for the D.A's office. It was a different man. Open and happy. Awake. Less contentious, for sure.
Then he was gone and it was so silent. Allison slowly got out of bed and surveyed her surroundings. Walking around the apartment, looking at all of the curios and books, she couldn't understand why she wasn't waking up. She should have awakened when she sat up from the bed after he left.
But she was still awake. Still Mrs. Scanlon. What kind of a name was Scanlon, anyway? It sounded Irish.
The silence started to get to her and she turned on the TV. The tail end of a local news report about several unusually violent convenience-store robberies. Then a weather segment about the lack of rain in Phoenix. Nothing new. It was always dry, leisurely this time of year.
She paused to look at a set of framed photographs on a cluttered bookcase. Her and Lee; she was wearing a wedding dress and had daisies in her hair. Another one, he was alone and leaning on a door frame, smiling just a little. She had to smile at that one. It looked like him from real life.
