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18. Virginia
HAUNTED GARDENS
“Did you see that? His left fingers twitched.” My own finger shoots toward our new high-definition television. “Did you see it?”
“Calm down, Super Observer. I did not see it,” Georgia says from the comfort of her brand-new, custom upholstered recliner, which is identical to mine. Splurges she’s made with the second dress commission she landed from Will Power & Bros.’ staff.
“I’ll rewind—”
“Please don’t. I trust you. And I thought you wanted to get through this episode before bed.”
I check the time on my phone: 9:36. “Darn. OK, no more rewinding.”
It’s my fifth day of trying to help Will sleep through his nightmares, and it’s a good thing he’s not paying me since I haven’t succeeded. At least, not in stopping the bad dreams. I’ve had a couple of other small wins, though. Getting Will to agree to be in bed at ten o’clock was huge, since his normal bedtime is usually after one a.m.
He wouldn’t agree based on all the science that says “early to bed” is healthier. He only agreed after I argued I couldn’t stay awake that lateandstill be able to do my job the next day. Given it takes up to thirty minutes for him to fall asleep, and then I watch for signs of the bad dream, which starts when he hits REM sleep up to an hour later, I’m not falling asleep until midnight.
Every night for the last four, at ten on the nose, I log in to his PowerSleep app on my laptop, and within a minute, he turns on the two cameras in his bedroom so I can see that he is, in fact, in bed.
The app also allows me to hear all the sounds from Will’s room, but thankfully, he can’t see me. He can only hear the “dulcet tones” of my voice, as he calls my reading.
“Did you and Georgia have a good evening?” he asks as soon as the feed pops up.
“We did. We’re watching a new documentary series calledThe Body Language of Body Snatchers. It’s fascinating.”
“I don’t understand whyyoudon’t have nightmares.”
“Knowledge is power.” I pause. “I’m surprised you haven’t trademarked some educational product with that word combination.”
“Don’t be such a Beach about the clever names of our company’s assets,” he counters.
“Do you think if your family name had been, I don’t know, Wobblebottom, that your businesses would have become so successful? Will Wobblebottom …” I let the name roll around in my head while Will shakes his. “I mean, it does evoke a pretty amusing—or should I say—unsteady image … Will Wobblebottom & Bros. … Get Wobbly with Wobblebottom … The Will Wobblebottom Hour … and the most popular asset in the family company, Wobblebottom Sleep!”
“Funny lady. You should do standup.”
“I’m only half kidding. There’s loads of research that proves a person’s name can have a direct impact on their health, well-being, and success. For instance, this PhD student in engineering named Candace something-or-other applied to jobs that she was perfectly qualified for. She submitted identical cover letters, résumés, and references to four hundred employers. But on half the applications, she used the name Candy, and on the other half, Candace. Do you know what she discovered?”
“That she loved applying for jobs and that instead of becoming an engineer, she started her own business as a résumé writer?”
“Ha-ha. Candace was offered interviews by twenty-seven of the two hundred companies she applied for. And Candy?”
“None, I’m guessing.”
“Not one single interview. That’s the power of a name. No pun intended.”
Will sighs. “If anyone understands the power of a name, it’s the son who inherited the job of being the face of a billion-dollar business … If I could go back in time and shove Colt out of Mom’s womb ahead of me, I would not hesitate for a second.
“OK, sleep whisperer, you going to lull me into never-never-land with some gentle waves on the shore or what?”
“Better. Tonight I’ve got a coma-inducing short story about a train ride through the prairies. I expect you’ll be out within ten minutes … heck, I may put myself to sleep rereading this one.”
Will nods, closes his eyes, and inhales deeply. “Ready when you are,” he says on the exhale.
I snuggle under my duvet and begin. My screen is split, so the images from two cameras are stacked on two-thirds of my monitor and the book is on the remaining third. That way, I can see Will’s movements while I read. Not that it’s helped so far, but I won’t be beaten. For the first ten to twenty minutes, he lies on his back, fidgets a little, enough for me to know he’s still awake. But then he rolls to his side and releases a long sigh. His breathing becomes regular and I know he’s asleep.
I read for another ten or fifteen minutes, then stop and pay closer attention to the video feed, watching for signs that he’s moving into nightmare territory. But so far the only sign I’ve caught is a pretty dramatic one of Will twitching, then rolling to his back with pronounced arm swinging.
After another thirty minutes or so, I’ve failed again. Zero for five.
