“Who’s Alina?”
“I don’t know. What are activists? And who are these two girls?” She showed her mother the tattered picture of the two girls in front of the sunflower field. “It looks like the drawing Birdie drew. The one that upset Bobby so much.”
“A little bit. Bobby must have shown it to her.” Anna squinted at the photo. “I think this one on the left is Bobby. It looks like her eyes and nose.”
“Who’s the other girl?”
“I have no idea.” Anna pinched the bridge of her nose, her lifelong tell that she was fighting off a headache.
Cassie sipped her coffee. “I think we need to get her to talk about it. Maybe if we can understand why she’s flashing back and wandering off, we can help her cope with it better.”
“Good morning.” Bobby shuffled into the kitchen, Birdie on her heels.
Cassie and Anna straightened in their chairs and shared a guilty look as Bobby opened the refrigerator. “Who would like blintzes for breakfast?”
Birdie waved her hands in the air and jumped up and down.
“Didn’t you just make blintzes the other day?” Anna asked.
“You can never have too many blintzes,” Bobby said. “Besides, they are Birdie’s favorite. What other reason do I need to make them?”
Cassie eyed her grandmother warily. She seemed normal and completely in control—no signs of last night’s escapade. “How did you sleep, Bobby?”
“Fine, fine.” Bobby leaned into the fridge and took out some strawberries and cream cheese. “Cassie, get me a bowl, please.”
Cassie glanced at her mom. “What do you think?”
Anna said in a low voice, “Let’s give it a couple of days, but I’ll still call the doctor and update him. Keep an eye on her, and if it happens again, let me know right away.”
Anna stood and smiled at Bobby and Birdie. “I have to go get ready for work. You girls have a great day, and don’t forget, tomorrow is pancake Saturday! I’ll be by early to make breakfast, and I’ll need your help, Birdie.”
Cassie waved her mother off and watched as Bobby mixed up the batter and reminded Birdie how to fold the blintz. She seemed completely fine. What had happened last night? Who was Alina?
Cassie jolted upright in bed. Her dream came flashing back to her in a rush—the salty sea air, the waves crashing onto her bare feet.
Henry.
Cassie lay back down and closed her eyes, trying to cling to every beautiful detail.
Walking hand in hand with her on the beach where they’d honeymooned. Henry. Letting go of her hand. Pushing her ahead.
Be happy. Live your life.
The words echoed in her ears, and she clenched her fists, trying desperately to retain the feel of his hands in hers.
A leaf blower roared outside her window.
The spell broke. Her eyes flew open. She sat up again, and with an angry yank, ripped open her curtains, ready to yell at whatever poor lawn service sop her mother had hired. Instead, she saw Nick, dressed in his work uniform, blowing old leaves out of the flowerbeds. He whistled, not that she could hear him, and moved to the beat of whatever song was playing on his headphones.
His eyes, attracted to the movement of the curtains, looked up and connected with hers. A wide grin spread across his face, and he waved. Horrified, she snapped the curtains closed and sank back into her pillow. She rubbed her face and tried not to read too much into the fact that right after she’d finally dreamed of Henry, she’d woken up to Nick.
She groaned and rolled out of bed. After she’d brushed her hair and teeth and got dressed, she went into the kitchen. Once again, her eyes locked onto Nick, who sat at the table with Bobby and Birdie and a plate of pancakes in front of him.
“Well, you’re everywhere this morning, aren’t you?” She didn’t try to hide the annoyance in her tone, though it was more with herself than him, and kissed Birdie on top of her head.
“Good morning.” Her mother handed her a large mug of coffee, then went back to the stove and resumed flipping pancakes. “Nick brought Bobby’s paper up on his way home from work and offered to blow the leaves out of the landscaping.”
“I stopped as soon as I saw I’d woken you.” His eyes glinted with merriment.
“It’s fine,” Cassie said, holding up a hand. “I was up.”
Bobby, sitting across from Nick, snorted. “You were not.”
Her face reddened, and Nick smiled. “Your bed head gave you away.”
She touched her hair, now contained in a messy bun. “Well, it was a bit early for yard work, if you ask me. Why were you doing that, anyway?”