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“Julia, honey,” I barely heard.
Jules rustled beneath my arms.
“Yeah?” She asked, unaware where she was. “Oh, what time is it?”
“Quarter ‘til dear.”
“Okay.”
Jules shook me awake and I sat up. We both stretched in our seats and stood up.
“I’m going to freshen up,” Jules said, “before we have to leave.”
I met Jules in the foyer five minutes later and we all piled into various cars.
We all marched into Antone’s with amazed eyes. The venue was dark and smelled of incense. One of their songs played softly to rev the crowd up.
“That’s all Caroline,” Jules said.
“This is really exciting,” I said.
The band came out first and began to play a low beat and then Caroline joined the stage. The audience erupted into shouts and applause. I guess she was the reason people came. Then, I saw why she was the real reason people came. Her dancing was phenomenal and I saw so much of Jules in her it was shocking. They looked alike, danced alike and even made similar facial expressions.
“It’s obvious that you’re family,” I said.
“Seriously? What a compliment! Thanks babe!”
The music was a mixture of Egyptian and Middle Eastern and was full of experimental beats, viola, and percussion. It was hypnotic, the music and the dancing. The best part of the evening was when Caroline pulled Jules up onto the stage and made her dance something they both knew together. I wish I had remembered to bring a camera, Jules looked so amazing up there. She was a natural. At the end of their song I lifted Jules by the waist off the stage and guided a breathless Jules back to her family.
“I’m sorry your parents missed that,” I said.
“How did I look? Stupid?” She laughed.
“Absolutely not! You looked so good up there! You looked like you belonged there! I’m so impressed Jules!” I screamed over the music.
“Thanks darlin’!” She spoke into my ear and kissed my cheek.
After the concert, everyone stuck around and waited for Caroline but she sent word that she was helping the guys do their thing and she would meet us at Isabel’s the next morning. We all left in such an uplifted mood and everyone wouldn’t stop gushing about Jules’ involvement. I guess a couple of them didn’t even know she was into Tribal. All in all, I’d say it was a fantastic evening.
I was really looking forward to bed and at the first opportunity, I fell into my cot and dreamed, for the first time, the dream that would forever fill my nights.
The dream of the ruthless ideal. The dream haunted me even after Jules left me.
Basically, it was everything I had imagined being a newlywed with Jules would be. We were on our honeymoon, only the location would change, and it always began in the morning. We were always eating at a table inside of our room overlooking mountains, the ocean, snow, desert, you name it. I’d be drinking coffee or tea and she was always reading. We were both together and only slightly distracted from one another. We stayed quiet, neither one speaking a word, but speaking volumes in the way we looked at and touched each other. Every glance, every flirtatious smile, each sigh of breath meant something profound. We kept our feet in constant contact and even in the dream I could feel the deeply steamed flux of electricity. Each time, It made me wake with an unquenchable thirst for Jules. That first morning, I woke hyperventilating.
The first few days, I thought it was because I was becoming claustrophobic from being wedged in between the wall and the billiard’s table but I would find out eventually that it was a physical reaction to the dream. It was euphoric. Every morning I woke slightly earlier than usual so I could revel in it as long as possible before the feeling wore off.
I need to see Jules. It was six in the morning but I hopped up from my cot anyway, showered, didn’t bother shaving, brushed my teeth, dressed and waited downstairs by myself for Jules to come down. Surprisingly, she was not five minutes behind me. The kitchen had massive rolling doors that opened to the outside patio and I opened them to breathe in the cool air. I sat at a breakfast table chair, staring from underneath the open door when I saw her descend the industrial staircase. I bounded to greet her with the largest smile, totally not expecting her to have met me so early. I held her at her waist and brought her delicate face to mine. I kissed her severely. I sat her back down and kept my hand at her waist because I felt she had lost her footing from the kiss.
“I hoped you would have been down here,” she whispered.
“You did?” I asked quietly.
She brought her lips to my ear, “I had a dream about us.”
I stared at her in disbelief.
“So did I.”
