Sharon Sala - The Way to Yesterday

He’d made no move to harm her and had yet to say a word. When he reached in his pocket, she caught herself holding her breath. But when he pulled out a neatly ironed linen handkerchief and laid it in her hands, she felt shame that she’d feared him.

“Oh God,” she moaned, and bent her head.

At the same time, she felt a hand at the crown of her head and then the old man was stroking her hair, as he might have a child. Mary shuddered as she lifted the handkerchief to her face and wiped away tears. What had she been thinking, behaving this way in front of a stranger? When she looked up, he was gone. The only proof she had that he’d been there was the handkerchief she was holding.

“Lord,” she muttered. “I probably embarrassed him horribly.”

She laid the handkerchief aside and started to weave her way through the narrow aisle, anxious to be away from this place. She’d been crazy to come in here to begin with. All it had done was remind her of what she’d lost. She wouldn’t let herself think about why the dream had been different this time, because it didn’t really matter. Her reality was a living hell and it hadn’t changed.

The front door was open and she headed for it like a moth to a flame.

Out.

She needed out.

Away from the memories.

Away from the pain.

She fixed her gaze on the rug of sunlight spreading across the threshold and told herself that if she didn’t breathe until she passed it, all the pain would go away. It wasn’t the first time she’d played such a mind game with herself, but she was brought up short from escaping when a curly-haired little girl burst into the building.

“Mommy! Mommy!”

The brutality of the moment stopped Mary short. In her mind, it was but another bit of proof as to how perfectly cruel life could be. If Hope hadn’t died—

“Mommy! Where are you?” the little girl cried.

Mary swallowed past the knot of misery in her throat and stepped out of the shadows and into the light. No matter how much it would hurt her, the child was obviously lost and afraid. But the words never came out of her mouth. When the child saw her move, the frown on her face turned to joy.

“Mommy! Mommy! We’re ready to go! Daddy’s going to buy us all ice cream and I want banilla with starberry sprinkles.”

Shock spread across Mary’s face as she stared at the approaching child in disbelief. Then over the child’s shoulder, she saw the sunlight on the floor suddenly shrink as a man appeared in the doorway. At first, she saw nothing but a big, dark silhouette, but then he spoke and the sound of his voice grabbed her heart.

“There you are,” he chided, and took the little girl by the hand before she could go any farther.

Mary struggled to take a breath. Damn you, God…you took my reasons for living and left me behind. Now you want my sanity, too?

The man looked up at Mary and grinned.

“Hey, honey. Did you find anything you can’t live without?”

Mary moaned and took a short step backward. Why was this happening? That had always been a running joke between herself and Daniel when they used to go antiquing, but this wasn’t funny.

Then the man moved past the doorway and further into the store. When Mary saw his face she started to shake. Black hair, blue eyes and that square jaw with a slight dimple in his chin. Daniel? Oh God…Daniel.

“Mary…darling…are you all right? You look a little pale.”

He reached for her, steadying her with a hand to the shoulder, then he cupped her face.

She looked up in horror. She could feel his fingers on her skin. This wasn’t possible. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. PTSD. That’s what it was. Post-traumatic stress disorder, brought on by her foray into antiques. When she opened her eyes, he would be gone. All of this would be gone. But when she looked he was still there, leaning closer now, and she could feel his breath on her face.

“Daniel?”

He smiled. “Definitely not the Easter Bunny,” he teased.

She fainted in his arms.

“Mary…darling…can you hear me?”

Mary moaned. “Make it go away,” she muttered.

Daniel frowned. “Make what go away?”

“The dreams. Make them all go away.”

He shook his head slightly, ignoring her rambling remarks as he continued to dab her forehead and cheeks with a dampened handkerchief. Before he could answer her, Hope slid between them and put a hand on her father’s arm.

“Daddy, what’s the matter with Mommy?”

“I think maybe she just got too hot.”

His daughter’s voice trembled slightly. “Is she going to die?”

“No, baby…oh no! Mommy’s fine. See! She’s waking up right now.”

Mary found herself focusing on the sound of their voices and wondered when she looked, which dream she would be in—the one from her past or the one from the future. The urge to scream was uppermost in her mind, but what was happening was inevitable. She was losing her mind. It was the only explanation for the fact that she kept slipping in and out of a fantasy. She shouldn’t be surprised that it was finally happening. She was having a nervous breakdown. End of story. Curious as to what she’d see next, she opened her eyes.

“See,” Daniel said. “I told you she was okay.” Then his voice deepened as he caressed the side of her face. “Sweetheart…how do you feel?”

“Crazy,” she muttered. “How about you?”

He chuckled and then winked at Hope. “I think the worst is over. At least your mother’s sense of humor is firmly in place.”

“Help me up,” Mary muttered.

Daniel stood, then put his hands beneath her arms and pulled her upright.

“Easy,” he warned. “You might still be dizzy.”

Mary swayed momentarily, then slowly gained her equilibrium.

“Okay?” he asked.

She took a deep breath and then nodded.

“Mommy?”

Mary’s stomach knotted as she looked down at the little girl.

“I don’t have to get banilla ice cream today,” Hope said.

Mary frowned, then remembered something being said about vanilla ice cream with strawberry sprinkles.

“That’s very sweet of you, but I’m all right.”

“Oh goody,” Hope cried. “Ice cream will make you feel better, too.”

Daniel slid an arm around Mary’s waist and turned her toward the door.

“Hope, can you carry Mommy’s purse for her, please?”

“Yes. I always carry it when Mommy’s arms are full of groceries,” she said, then picked up the shoulder bag Mary had dropped and slung it across her shoulder.

Mary fought the urge to laugh, but she was afraid if she started, she wouldn’t be able to stop. Maybe she should tell someone what was happening. Then she discarded the thought. After all, who would believe her?

As they started out the door, she paused and looked back, but the old man was nowhere in sight. That figured. She’d probably imagined him, too.

When the sunlight hit her face, she squinted and ducked her head against the glare. And because she did, she missed the fact that she was being led to a waiting car. When they paused, she looked up, her eyes widening at the big, white Cadillac Daniel was unlocking.

“I walked here,” she muttered.

Daniel frowned and ran his hand through her hair.

“What are you doing?” Mary asked.

“I was checking for a bump. You’re not making a lot of sense right now and might have a slight concussion. I thought I caught you before you hit the floor, but I could be wrong.”

“I didn’t hit my head,” she said. “I just lost my mind.”

Hope giggled. “Mommy’s funny.”

Mary let herself be seated in the car and then watched as Daniel put Hope in the back seat. Without thinking, Mary turned around, got up on her knees and buckled the little girl into her booster seat. It wasn’t until she had turned around and was reaching for her own seat belt that she realized what she’d done. It had been so natural. Something she’d done without thinking. Something she’d done a thousand times before. She pulled the sun visor down and then looked at herself in the attached mirror. Ignoring her pallor, she stared, trying to find the madness in the woman looking back. But all she could see was a slight expression of shock.