Wallflower Girl

"I learned about love," Anne said, her voice catching again. "I just learned about being loved by a man."

The elderly couple claimed each other's hand and exchanged a knowing smile.

"Then my guess is that the love of a man is something that is about to come your way, dear. And Nick wants you to know it when you see it."

"Really?" Anne asked, hoping that was true. "Do you think that's what this all meant?"

Ethel shrugged, her eyes going to the pocket of Anne's jeans, as though she could feel the object inside. "I'm a very old spirit, dear. I've been around a long, long time. That's my best guess," she chuckled. "I say, wait and see, and be ready!"

Reg turned back from gazing out at the hay fields. "I wonder if we'll see young Nick again," he offered wistfully. "I wonder."

***Chapter 10***

Ethel gave Anne the photograph in parting, in exchange for a promise that Anne would come to visit again soon and keep her informed of anything that changed in her life. The whole experience seemed to fade a little as Anne returned to the main highway and left the small town of Hammond far behind. She began to regain a grip on reality as the highway motored on into the city and the Monday afternoon traffic gridlocked.

Perhaps there was something in it all, but for now she had to face what her brother had done to her apartment, and there was work in the morning after having called in sick for the day.

Her apartment turned out to be not as bad as expected. There were a few things out of place, but her brother had made a fair attempt at cleaning up after himself. The sheets needed to be stripped of course.

Lying in bed that night, Anne closed her eyes and relived the part of her dream where she was being ravaged by her husband. She relived it with a hand down her pyjama pants and fingers in her wetness. She parted her legs and felt Nick lying on top of her; her orgasm pulsing through her belly with the thought of that.

The entire experience was just so weird. Even if a case could be made for the shapes in the photographs, how could there be an explanation for the fact that she saw that wedding photo in her dream before she saw it in real life? That was simple and unequivocal. It was not something she could ever prove to anyone else, but she was certain of what she had dreamt. It had been the most incredibly lucid experience. She had seen the exact photo that was right this minute in her handbag. She had seen herself in the mirror, as Patricia Harper, Nick's wife.

No explanation had presented itself by the time Anne found sleep that first night home. The next day was busy at work, catching up on filing that had accumulated in her absence. It rained on the way home in the evening. She had worked late and ended up hurrying in the dark with no umbrella, and her hair and clothing became thoroughly soaked. She was ambling as quickly as she could across the street to reach the shelter of her building when there was a screech of brakes and headlights bearing down on her. She was not hit by the car though; rather she was gently swept upward and through the air, and she ended up under the awning of her building in the arms of a man.

She was nestled in his embrace. The rain in her eyes had her vision blurred for a moment. The guy still held her. He was tall and muscular. His chest and shoulders were defined in his wet t-shirt. He had dark hair. "Hey, Anne," he said. His voice was deep and mellow. There was mirth in it. He was still holding her close.

"How do you know my name?" Anne was rubbing her eyes. "And put me down!"

The guy placed her upon her feet. He wiped his wet hair back with a big hand. "I asked that old guy—the caretaker dude."

Anne recognised her new neighbour, remembering that he had asked about her. His upper body was amazing as he shook his hair back, raking it and then meeting Anne's eyes. Her vision had cleared. She experienced a shock that set her heart fluttering. His eyes were beautifully green; grey/green in fact. They were so familiar to her.

"So, I was wondering if you were busy one night soon. Maybe I could take you to dinner?"

"Me?" Anne asked, blushing. Her heart was still fluttering.

"Yeah, the guy said he thought you were—um—you know, not seeing anyone at the moment."

Anne swallowed. "No—I mean yes! I mean no I'm not seeing anyone, and yes."

"Yes, to dinner?" the guy asked, grinning.

Those eyes! Anne knew those eyes! She nodded, biting her lip.

His expression changed. There was a doubt or something, maybe a question. "Have we met before? I know that's cheesy, but I don't mean it as a line. I just haven't been able to stop thinking about you since the first time you ignored me on the stairs last week." He shook his head, chuckling. "Yeah, that sounds like a line too."

"No it doesn't," Anne assured him, finding her voice. "You look familiar to me too, but I don't think we've met."

"Oh—seen each other somewhere before but not having actually met, eh?"

"Hmm—maybe," Anne said, edging closer. "Thanks for saving me."

He leant against the wall, edging closer too. "Any time."

His hand moved. He deliberately stopped himself from smoothing hair from her face. He frowned in confusion. "Sorry. I um—"

Anne just smiled up at him. "I'm free tonight. Like, right now."

"Yeah? Okay. Great. I'm Andrew—Drew," he said. "Do you know of a place to eat around here? Somewhere we'll get in without a reservation?"

Anne touched his stomach. She didn't know what she was doing. She would never do something like that. She peered up coyly. "I could cook for us."

He touched her face very deliberately that time, smoothing wet hair aside. His eyes intensified, drilling into her, making her lips part. He bent to her. The kiss was soft. "Sorry," he said, whispering the word, and he bent to her again, pressing his lips to hers and drawing a moan from her mouth.

"That's okay," Anne whispered back. "Andrew." She liked saying his name. "Do you ever get déjà vu, Andrew?"

End