The brilliant JE created the characters I'm playing with below.
Jenny (JenRar) thank you for patiently reviewing and correcting my many errors in this story as the beta.
Chapter 14 – Dream Weaver
"Will you keep your hand still?" I asked Manny, trying to see if the splinter in his hand was at the surface so that I could get it out with tweezers.
"Man, if you are this much of a wuss over having a little splinter taken out, I can't imagine how you've managed to survive with your other injuries too," Cal teased.
We'd spent an hour talking and letting Cal catch us up on life in the outside world. I'd noticed Manny was flexing his fist, even though he was laughing at the fact that Vince just lost his RangeMan SUV when he stopped by to pick up Mooner for me and somebody on the street noticed and stole the car. Of course they got it back, but now the guys were picking on him that he'd gotten my vehicle curse, and they all refused to let him drive when they were partnered with him.
I'd gently pulled Manny's hand up so that I could look at it, and he'd allowed me to take it without resisting at all. The splinter had been easy to find, so I'd jumped up and gotten tweezers and a needle in case I needed to pull the skin back or lift the wood to pull it free. Unfortunately, the moment he saw the sewing needle, he'd yanked his hand back and looked like a kid being faced with a vaccination visit to the doctor's office.
"If you sit still and let me get this out, I'll heat up some of the leftovers my mom sent over yesterday," I said, trying to bribe him.
Cal brought up my grandmother, the way all the guys did – with fear and trembling. As soon as I saw Manny stick up for her, I knew he was sufficiently distracted, so I swooped in and got the splinter out, holding it in the tweezers and whistling at the size of it.
"How did you get that?" I asked, worried that it could continue happening.
"I hadn't sanded the wood while I was working on the cane, so when I rubbed against the grain I caught a rough spot and it lifted into my hand," he confessed, flexing it a few more times to be sure it felt better. "Thanks," he said, looking me in the eye to better make the point that he appreciated my help. I patted his good leg before hoping off the bed and keeping my promise to heat up food for us to eat.
I pulled out dishes and smiled at the fact that my mom had cooked Chicken Paprikash. There was enough here to feed an army, so I stuck my head back in the den and invited Cal to stay, an offer he seemed more than happy to accept.
While I worked in the kitchen, I couldn't help but listen in on the guys' conversation, especially when Cal blurted out, "What have you done to her?"
Manny seemed offended. "What are you talking about, man? She's humming in the kitchen. Why am I getting shit for her being happy?"
"No, not for her being happy. It's like it's her, but it isn't."
"What are you talking about?" Manny pushed, still not sounding sure what Cal meant.
"I've pulled plenty of Bomber duty shifts, and I've never seen her cook before, and now she's flitting around in the kitchen like Martha Stewart."
"First of all, she's not cooking; she's heating up leftovers cooked by her mother," Manny explained, making a valid point in my book. "And secondly, she's not flitting around. You'd better watch your mouth, man; I don't think she'd appreciate the comparison."
"And why did she sit beside you in the bed?" Cal followed up.
There was a pause, as though Manny didn't know how to respond. "You're sitting in the chair," he finally offered as a defense. "The couch is covered with medical shit to take care of my sorry ass," he pointed out, "and I told her she could watch a movie up here yesterday and we fell asleep. Ever since then, I've been hanging out on one side, and she's been taking the other side. Don't make a big deal out of it."
"I'm not," Cal defended. "But you're treating that bed like it's huge, talking about sides. It's barely a twin. You can't tell me it's comfortable to have both of you squeezed together like that."
"It's not uncomfortable, and it keeps her from having to turn her neck to see the television," Manny responded, using a line that sounded weak even to my ears.
There was dry laughter before Cal said, "Look I'm not blind, and I can see something is going on here. You are big on personal space, so you being cool with her up there next to you is a big deal. You're the guy who will change treadmills if somebody takes the one next to you, just because you like your space, remember?"
Fortunately, the food was warm by that point, so I plated it up and carried some out to both of them.
When I turned to walk back to the kitchen, Manny called out, "Where are you going? Why aren't you eating, too?"
The smile appeared on my face before I could stop it, and a quick glance at Cal from the edge of my eye showed me he'd picked up on it, too. "I'm just getting my plate; I'll come back and eat with you."
Manny relaxed then, so I went into the kitchen, wondering if I should be worried about the fluttering in my stomach.
"No, you should enjoy it," came the giggling whisper of Nagymama.
"It's not real," I replied, trying to remind myself that this was not reality and I shouldn't read too much into anything here because once we were released from the prison of this house, things would change, so I couldn't let myself grow accustomed to it now.
"It could change for the better," her voice entered my thoughts once more.
Deciding now was not the time to argue with the voice in my head, I picked up my plate and water bottle and headed back out.
Their conversation about where I'd been sitting was still fresh in my mind, so I moved a few things on the couch, intending to sit there so that Cal wouldn't read anything into my location.
Before I could make a spot, Manny asked, "What are you doing?"
I looked at the folder with his care directions that was in my hand and then back up to him, assuming it was obvious.
"Get up here," Manny said, patting the mattress beside him.
"Haven't you heard? The patient is always right," Cal said.
"I thought it was the customer," I corrected, moving to sit on the bed. I elected to plop down at the foot instead of leaning against the head beside Manny. This gave us a degree of separation but still allowed me to see him if he needed anything.
We went through all the leftovers Grandma Mazur had dropped off and talked for what felt like hours before Cal stood up and stretched, announcing that he had to go. I walked him to the door, and once he was certain we were out of earshot, he pulled me to him for a quick hug and asked, "Are you and Manny…?"
The question hung out there, and I refused to assume to know what he was talking about and risk embarrassing myself. Besides, if he was trying to figure out why the dynamic between Manny and me had shifted, his guess was as good as mine.
Seeing that I wasn't going to say anything, he smiled and kissed my forehead. "All right, keep your little secrets, but the truth always comes out eventually."
I shut the door behind him and leaned against it to mumble, "I'm sure you're right," not entirely sure I wanted the truth to come out in this situation. My fear was that this time, reality would come crumbling down once Ranger finished his work and made it secure for Manny to be back out again.
When I walked back into the den, Manny was sanding his cane again, giving it a final once over. He'd worked the stick part down to a round column and had carved designs around it. At the top, instead of a knob or a single handle, it was shaped more like a triangle so that his hand would go in the hole in the middle as he gripped the top. I was amazed at how sturdy it looked, and because it was made from a hard wood, I knew it could take his weight and give him more independence than leaning on me allowed, without taking away his pride the way a walker would have.
He looked up and caught me watching him, so I decided to just admit I was staring and not try to hide the obvious fact. "I can't believe how quickly you did that, especially with just one fully functional hand."
He shrugged. "I haven't worked much with wood lately, but my dad did it all the time. He was a master carpenter by day, but a woodworker for pleasure by night. I guess I got his love of this from him. There's something about watching something take shape slowly under your hands that makes me want to keep working."
"Ah, the boy understands," Nagypapa seemed to respond.
Hearing the approval from my great-grandfather put me on edge, so I felt the need to change the subject. "I'm going to work on some of the files Cal brought me."
When I came back to the den, I moved to the easy chair to resume my perch there while making Rodriguez's life much easier by doing his dirty work for him.
My rear end hadn't even begun its descent to the cushion before Manny patted the mattress and said, "Come on up here." He must have seen my indecision, because he added, "The game will be on in fifteen minutes; you can watch them play while you're waiting for the searches to run."
Apparently, I was easy to convince, because I immediately caved and moved to sit at his side. For the next few hours, I split my attention between the Rangers game and the searches on the laptop. Manny seemed to be doing the same thing and would occasionally ask questions about what I was doing and why I was looking up other people or places. There was an eagerness to understand the method behind my madness that had been annoyance the first time he'd attempted to see a search the way I did. Something had definitely changed between us this past week, and even though I knew it wouldn't go beyond this house, I liked the way it felt at the moment.
Long after my work was finished, the game was over, and he'd put the toolbox away, we were still talking. It wasn't until I yawned that he softly said, "Why don't we call it a night? You're exhausted, and we can talk some more tomorrow."
I nodded and moved to get up.
"What are you doing?" he asked when I didn't just relax beside him.
"Going to bed, like you said," I explained, confused by his outburst.
Manny's good hand lifted and moved slowly, the way a person would approach an injured animal trying to be sure they were proving themselves to not be a threat. I felt my breathing rate increase, and my heart was definitely pounding faster as my eyes focused on the hand coming closer to my face by the second.
The tips of his fingers picked up a curl that had fallen across my fact when I jerked my head back to him, and he lifted it and tucked it behind my ear. A tiny jolt – like static electricity, only more tingly than shocking – went through my scalp when he touched me and convinced my hair to stay back.
"Stay," he said softly once more. "Don't…go."
I swallowed and looked into his eyes. I could see that this meant a lot to Manny, and after Cal's words earlier about Manny usually wanting his own space, I had a feeling it was significant. I also knew that it wasn't something we could talk about. I could shake my head and go to the colorful room alone, and he wouldn't press the point, but if I did that, I wouldn't be welcome up here beside him again. If I shot him down now, when he was allowing himself to be vulnerable, then he would board up the weak place in his defenses and never allow me to peek through again.
With that thought, I didn't really have a decision to make; I nodded that I would stay and shifted so that we could both be more comfortable. When he lifted his arm, I rested my face against his shoulder and let the warmth of his body soothe me straight to sleep.
I knew I was dreaming because I felt like I was floating and then found myself landing in the garden behind the house. My great-grandparents were there already, and right behind me was Manny. He was walking perfectly without any effects from his injuries, so there was a second piece of evidence that this was all in my head.
"The children are here," Nagymama announced, smiling at us.
Manny's hand was on my back, guiding me closer without feeling like I was being pushed along.
"You know we aren't children," I corrected her with a smile, keeping my tone respectful, even if my words were challenging.
Nagypapa laughed. "Not in years, but we are still so much older than you that you are children to us."
There was no way to combat his logic, so I shrugged, admitting defeat. Manny's hand that had been resting on my back began rubbing slow circles. I could tell he enjoyed the banter between us, even though he said nothing. Of course, the fact that the friction where he was touching me was generating enough heat to short circuit my brain could mean that he was talking and I just wasn't capable of hearing him.
We were encouraged to sit on the picnic table in the middle of the garden, so we took the bench opposite them.
Nagymama spoke first. "The herbs are helping. You grow stronger each day."
Manny looked confused, so she explained further. "Stephanie has been soothing your spirit with herbs from my stock. They have sped your healing."
He looked at me and raised an eyebrow, causing me to shake my head. "With her, you can talk, but I still get the eyebrow thingie?"
"You've been drugging me?" he accused, making it obvious I needed to do some fast talking.
"No!" That got his attention. "They were just some dried leaves that tradition says will speed healing, so I sprinkled into your bath water. I haven't drugged you."
Manny grinned too quickly, letting me know he already knew that and he was just having some fun at my expense.
I couldn't let that go unpunished, so I threatened, "But don't push me, because I remember how to knock your ass out with the drugs Bobby left me."
"Such language," Nagypapa interrupted, although I knew he was just jumping in to keep us from arguing further, not because he was offended. There was a reason I knew how to swear in Hungarian, and it had nothing to do with looking the words up in a dictionary. As if agreeing with my thoughts, he spoke once more. "We are pleased you are here. Soon, this danger will be over, and once you are free to leave, we hope you will stay and make this your home."
I looked at Manny, who seemed as shocked as I was. "But we aren't married." I decided to start with the most obvious reason why he shouldn't be advocating for us to stay in their home.
Nagymama pointed at my hand. "Then who have you made vows to?"
"These are wedding rings, but I was given them so that I could play the part of Manny's wife, not because we are married," I explained, realizing I was really just confusing things further.
"How did you convince people you were his wife?" Nagypapa asked.
"I showed them our marriage certificate and some other papers," I offered.
"See?" Nagymama waved her hand as though that settled everything. "No service with fluffy dresses, but still married."
"But we aren't really married. I mean RangeMan would have just made the papers up. They weren't real." Explaining this was harder than I'd thought.
"You act married," Nagypapa jumped in, obviously not stuck on the technicalities.
"We do?" While I felt like the sudden change in tactics was a trap of some sort, I couldn't help but stop and ask.
"Oh yes." Nagymama was practically beaming. "You are humming and tending to his needs. And I saw you flipping through my cookbooks. You want to care for him. In your heart, you are married; that is enough."
"But the papers—" I tried once more.
"May not have been fake," Manny interrupted, looking at me as though begging me not to get angry with him.
"They can't be real because we didn't sign them, so they have to be fake." I figured that logic was pretty infallible.
"Oh, they were forged, no doubt, but in order for them to pass the scrutiny of the hospital, there is a good chance that Hector had to create them and then digitally file them so that officially, in the eyes of New Jersey, we're married, even if we never knew it. My guess is that after this is over, Hector planned on going in and deleting the records so that it would be as though they never existed, but for now, those rings aren't as fake as you think they are." Manny's hand was on top of mine, squeezing as he spoke. I felt as though he was hoping that contact would be enough to keep me from running away.
In the back of my mind, the idea that RangeMan had married me to Manny without my permission or without even telling me what they were doing was something worth getting mad about, but my brain reminded me I was clearly dreaming, which meant it probably wasn't true, so there was no point in running away and possibly waking myself up at the same time.
"There," Nagypapa spoke once more. "So you can stay."
I made a face at Manny, not sure what I wanted him to do but still feeling as though I needed help in answering my great-grandparents' request.
He nodded, letting me know he understood what I needed, and then turned to face the couple across from us. "How about we promise that after the threat is eliminated, we will talk honestly about what's happened to us while we've been here and see if it makes sense for us to get to know each other a little better?"
Nagypapa leaned in toward Manny and said, "You could get to know each other much better while you're here, no?"
"We wouldn't watch," Nagymama assured us, somehow keeping a straight face. "We understand that young people need privacy in order to give us a great-great-grandchild."
As soon as she said that, both of them broke out into laughter. Nagypapa patted his wife's hand and said, "I think we should let them have a little time without us here to think about what we've said. Besides, we already have great-great-grandchildren."
"True, but they can't see us," Nagymama complained. "And wouldn't it be fun to have a baby in the house again?"
While they discussed the trouble with Valerie being so rigid in her beliefs of what was proper and possible, thus making it impossible for them to reach her, they began to fade from my vision, leaving Manny and me alone in the garden at the table.
Once their voices were completely gone, I looked to my left and saw Manny shaking his head.
At my prompting, he explained, "I never thought I'd see the day when I thought your Grandma Mazur was one of the sane members of your family."
"Don't let them worry you." I felt the need to set the record straight. "I mean, I know you didn't want to be saved from the hospital, especially not by me, so the thought of being legally tied to me is probably driving you nuts. As soon as this is over, we'll get Hector to erase everything, and we'll go back to normal."
The fact that he didn't agree right away made me nervous.
"Maybe we should wait and not do anything rash once this is over," Manny spoke softly, slowly, like he was weighing the truth of every word as he spoke it. "Obviously something magical has been happening here, and it might be a good idea to see if it's just the influence of your family or if it's the two of us."
He looked down at our hands and began to rub his fingers over the rings that sat there. "These look good on you."
I smiled, remembering how much I'd hated wearing my wedding rings with Dickie. I knew most women seemed to love the idea of showing off the rock from their fiancé, but I always felt as though he'd given it to me as a billboard about himself instead of a token of how he felt for me.
"I've never been much of a jewelry person, but these fit well, and I like twisting them around." As I made that confession, I used my thumb to move the rings.
"Maybe you like them because of the color, the sapphires. They are more than just a plain diamond," he suggested. "And after seeing this place, your family obviously has a thing for color."
I knew he was picking on me, giving me something to get offended over so that I could change the subject, but for some reason, I didn't want to. As much as I usually hated any conversation that got near emotions, I wasn't screaming or running in the opposite direction this time. Instead, I did the unthinkable and captured his hand between mine, holding him to me, and then I opened my mouth and talked. The fact that I knew this was just a dream made it so much easier to do, and once I got started, I talked for what had to have been hours, sharing with him every detail about my previous love life.
I told him about playing choo-choo with Morelli, about breaking his leg with Grandma's Buick after the Tasty Pastry incident, and then moved onto my marriage with Dickie that made my mother happy, but certainly not me. I tried to explain what was between Ranger and me, and even though I could see him trying to understand, he couldn't get past Ranger sending me back to Morelli after our first night together. At first, I worried that once this was all over, he was going to use that story to challenge Ranger in some way, but after listening to him mumble for a bit, I realized he was in disbelief that Ranger could have allowed me to walk away after having me in his arms all night. There was something in his voice I couldn't figure out, but it felt like a mixture of relief and hope rolled into one.
After I unloaded the train wreck of my love life, Manny seemed encouraged to do the same thing. He told me about his first love, Maria Santiago, his next door neighbor and third grade sweetheart. She intentionally missed catching a ball when their class played kickball together during recess and allowed him to score a home run. Her family moved away the next year, giving him his first heartbreak.
His next one came on the night of his senior prom when his girlfriend left him for the captain of the football team right before he asked her if she was ready to go upstairs to the hotel room he'd rented for the night, giving them the chance to have their first night of sex together. Apparently, she'd been dating this other guy behind Manny's back for a few weeks, but since she'd already agreed to go to the prom with him, she'd felt obliged, but she'd decided to leave with someone else. That left him feeling pretty low about the possibly of a person being faithful, so he'd spent his time in the Army just chasing skirts as a conquest.
Once he finished his active service and began to put roots down, his sister shamed him into giving up a different pickup every week. Her happiness with her mystery man even had Manny beginning to wonder if it might be worth it to give the whole dating thing another shot. Then, of course, her mystery man turned out to be Hernandez, which meant Manny had gone back to thinking love was nothing more than a hoax contrived by guys to get girls in bed.
"You don't really believe that, do you?" I couldn't help but question.
He shrugged, as though that were a response. "I used to, but it's a little harder to hang onto that after meeting your great-grandparents."
My eyes narrowed as I tried to figure out how to respond to that. They were very much in love, so on the one hand, I knew what he meant. My mouth decided that I had to at least attempt to point out something he seemed to be overlooking when it came to my relations. "You realize they aren't real, right? I mean, they died twenty years ago."
"I keep telling myself that very same thing, but then I realize I have to either agree that they are real or admit that I'm losing my mind and inventing ghosts that don't exist. Of the two options, I'm going with freaky but true," he explained with a smile.
We didn't talk anymore as we just sat there looking at each other. Usually, that kind of scene would make me uncomfortable to know someone was watching me that intently and not talking. But with Manny, it just made me feel warm, because I knew he was focused solely on me, and although I wasn't used to that kind of attention, I seemed to like it from him.
The scenery began to get fuzzy, and eventually, the garden disappeared and I got that floating sensation, telling me this dream was over. I blinked my eyes, waking up quickly, and was disappointed to see that we weren't in the same position we'd gone to sleep in. Instead of laying there with my head on his chest, we were turned facing each other, sharing his pillow, with our faces close. Glancing down, I saw his good hand was between mine and the one with a cast was on top of the pile, his index finger over my wedding rings. It was the exact same position we'd been in during my dream conversation.
I jumped when Manny's eyes opened and focused so intently on me. "Good morning," he said with a voice deep with sleep.
My first response was to get nervous about all that we'd shared in the dream. At night, when the world didn't seem real, it was freeing and made it easy to talk about anything. The reality of being awake made me wonder if things might be more awkward now. Then I realized I was worried about confessions made in a dream. They weren't real – Manny hadn't heard them. I had nothing to worry about.
The muscles in my body began to relax after realizing I'd been working myself up over nothing. My eyes closed again as the relief of that fact washed over me.
Then that deep voice spoke once more. "So what exactly is the herb that you've been bathing me with?"
My eyes shot open as I remembered we'd talked about that during my dream. I'd never said a word about it when he was awake. The only way he'd know that piece of information was if he'd been in that dream, too, which wasn't possible...
Was it?