Page 8 of A World Without You
It doesn’t look like it wants to eat me but there is something intimidating about its eye contact. I move slowly. “Sorry I hit you,” I say, one hundred percent aware I’m speaking to a wild animal.
It takes a step toward me—his presence overwhelming as its earthy scent draws closer. I nearly choke on my tongue as I try to swallow my fears. I assume it’s more afraid of me than I am of it, but my heart continues to somersault in my stomach.
It bows its snout and sniffs my hair. Every single nerve ending is trying not to panic and I close my eyes, pretending there isn’t a wild animal standing next me, smelling my hair. Then just as I begin to think my nerves can’t be rattled anymore, I open my eyes and stare directly into the animal’s dark brown irises. Lost in a trance, I start to reach out, wondering if it will let me touch him again. Slowly, I bring my hand up to touch its snout.
The movement startles it, and it snort-grunts again. I draw back and it starts walking away. But just before it trots off into the snowy tree line and vanishes from the night, it pauses again, and—I kid you not—nods in the direction of my car. Then it disappears.
My legs shake with nerves and my brain is fuzzy with delusion as I get myself off the road and examine the damage to the front of the vehicle.
There is none. My jaw drops in disbelief and I start to question my sanity as I look around the road to see if the reindeer is anywhere in sight. I know I just saw it, I know I pet it, but the lack of damage to my vehicle is making me feel like I’ve fallen into a dream—the kind that doesn’t quite make sense.
I retrieve the antlers from the road with shaky hands and get in my car. Putting it in drive, I move it to the side of the road so I can take a moment to collect myself.
“Guess I had better luck getting antlers than Graham.” I laugh to myself, staring at the antlers on the passenger side. My little good luck charms.
I sigh, and within moments, my shoulders are shaking and I’m hunched over the stirring wheel, letting out a maniacal laugh until tears are falling down my face, and then I’m sobbing.
I cry harder as I realize I have just left my husband, minorly escaped death on Highway 903, had a Snow White moment with a reindeer, and will be surprising my parents for Thanksgiving. I stare at the antlers now in the passenger seat, then start humming “Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer.”
One person flashes across my mind. Colin. My ex from Seattle. It was his favorite Christmas song and I argued with him that it more or less constituted a nursery rhyme and did not at all compare to the great Christmas classics. I can still see his boyish smile and his eyes brighten as we agreed to disagree. I wince as the memory of his face physically assaults my heart.
I close my eyes and lean against the headrest, and whisper, “I wish I didn’t hurt you.”
TWO
DREAM 1
Wednesday, November 22nd
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MY HEART POUNDS INmy temples like fists pounding a surface before I even open my eyes, making me groan.
“Rough night?” The low, gravelly whisper, thick with sleep and sex, trembles over me with surprise and familiarity.
I shoot my eyes open and find Colin—yes,theColin—sitting next to me on the bed, wearing only boxers and a smile while holding a steaming cup of coffee. He looks exactly how I remember—how I dream of him. Only this dream includes Colin with a peppered jaw and a couple more crinkles around his eyes than I remember.
