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Sobbing as she came awake, Gemma reached up to touch the hand caressing her. “I’m sorry. I woke you again. I’m being such a kid.”
“Don’t be sorry that things still bother you. It’s nothing you’re doing.”
“I keep seeing the same thing.”
“I know.”
“Mom is being eaten by some terrible disease that makes her skin turn dark and rot.”
It was always the same dream. “Your brain is making a picture you can understand. Mom’s dead. And it was a disease that killed her, except that we couldn’t see it. The cancer ate her up, destroyed her body. It was so sudden, and she looked so peaceful that it was hard to believe she was even sick. I think you’re imagining it in a way that makes more sense.”
It was Simone’s standard explanation and, as always, it seemed to help Gemma calm down and return to the world. After a few moments, her labored breathing grew easier and her face relaxed. “I know all that. Why can’t I stop having these dreams?”
“I don’t know. I suppose you’re working something out. We do that, even when we aren’t aware that we’re doing it. Our minds work on problems or worry about things while we’re doing other things. I know that I’ve gone to bed wondering about something and woken up with the answer.”
“Maybe I can figure out how to get it to work on some other problem.”
“You do that sometimes already. I’ve noticed that when you’re working on a project with your computer, one of those big, entangled programming things you do, you can go for several nights without having the nightmares.”
Gemma smiled. “Too bad I can’t do that all the time.”
“I think the dreams are less frequent, and at least you know what’s going on now, not like at first.”
“I know, because you listened to me, talked to me about my dreams. We figured it out together. I was so scared, but you held my hand and got me through them.” She squeezed Simone’s hand. “So distract me. Tell me about something from your day.”
“From my day? Not much happens tending bar.”
“Tell me about the people.”
“You know most of them. I’ve told you about them before.” Gemma loved to hear her talk about the customers. “There are a couple of new guys though.”
“All right!”
“Don’t get too excited. They’re Rafe and Max, and they’re bikers.”
“Like from a biker gang?” Her eyes dilated with excitement. “Are they mean and rough?”
“They’re in a club—I don’t know if it’s right to call it a gang or not. Their club is called The Road Kings. Rafe is tall and lean and in his twenties, and a lot more clean-cut than you might be hoping for. Max reminds me of one of those big wrestlers, or maybe a bodybuilder. He’s quiet and intense, but I get the sense he’s soaking up everything, analyzing it, and finding the solution, even if he’s so silent you sometimes think he’s dead.”
Gemma’s brown eyes flickered with delight. “Well, I guess you can’t have everything.”
“They seem to be nice guys.”
“And you like one of them, don’t you? Which one?”
Simone was uncomfortable with that question. “Is that any of your business, Miss Nosy?”
“Yup. I’m your sister and your confidant, so yes, it is very much my business.”
“Well, I just met them. How would I know?”
“Let’s see… does seeing either of them make you happy? Have you thought about them since you left work?”
“I suppose so. A little.”
“Which one?”
“Both.”
