Page 30 of Reclaimed Dreams

Shared laughter broke the tension. Jo’s shoulders shook before dropping back down from her ears.

“Just don’t do anything rash.”

“That’s my line.” Jo laughed, but her voice held no humor. “I’ve spent my whole life playing by the rules, and where did it get me? An empty home, a son in the ground, and a husband who dismisses my needs out of hand. Maybe rash is exactly what I need.”

Jo still struggled with what-ifs, even though Gabe had been gone for years. Would there ever be a day she didn’t wonder if she could have done something more or something different and have him still sit at her table every Friday night?

And what if she’d done something different with Dom? Would her marriage be falling apart now? What would the something different have been? Even though the idea of finding someone else had fallen away, Jo still couldn’t see going back to the way things had been…

She let the fantasy of traveling Europe by herself fill her head. She’d drink tea in London and wine in Italy, stroll through the Louvre in Paris and the Uffizi Gallery in Florence, eat pastries in a French café and fish pulled fresh from the sea along the coast of Italy. Her list had grown over her thirty years of dreaming. Then when she’d rambled all her rambles, she’d come home to a tidy little apartment that she’d let Sofia design for her and live comfortably in a smaller place that wasn’t so hard to keep up.

It was a nice dream, but it wasn’t quite right. Something was still missing, some driving force. It frustrated her to be unable to see a solution. She was so tired of feeling like she didn’t know how to live her own life, but she’d never shared that with a soul. She didn’t know why all of this was coming out now, other than Natalie asked good questions and actually listened to the answers.

Jo gripped Nat’s wrist. “Please don’t say anything about this to my kids. I know you’re friendly with them. I just needed to blow off steam and talk to someone who might get it. You’re a very good listener.”

“They teach us that in beauty school. And don’t worry, beautician’s code.” She held up two fingers and snapped them like scissors. “Your secrets are safe with me.”

43 years ago

Jo spread the ancient army surplus wool blanket on the dry sand next to a driftwood log, well above the tide line, and took out the cheap bottle of red she’d stashed in her purse. Dom sat on the blanket next to her and grinned. They were close enough to feel the warmth of the bonfire, but far enough away that they had the illusion of privacy from their rowdy group of friends celebrating the end of the semester.

It was December in California, and while only a fool would actually go in the water, the deserted beach was fogged in, perfect for a party around a fire.

Jo snuggled up against Dom’s warm bulk, happy to let him block the brisk breeze coming in off the water, and handed him the bottle. He pulled out his Swiss Army knife and muscled it open.

“I can always trust that you’ll have the right tool,” Jo teased as she took the wine back and sipped a healthy mouthful straight from the bottle.

“You know me, always prepared. Wanna see the other tools I’m packing?” Dom tapped his pocket, and Jo grinned at the double meaning. He always had that pocketknife, and since they’d started dating eight months ago, he’d also carried a condom. Or two.

She might be a sexually liberated woman, but she sure as hell wasn’t going to get pregnant right now because of it. The fact that he was on the same page and made sure he was prepared was a big mark in his favor.

She handed him the bottle and cuddled her face into his sturdy shoulder. This was the spot she claimed as hers whenever they were close. She felt safe and protected, maybe even loved.

They’d been dancing around the subject for weeks, but she was sure tonight was the night he’d say it. She watched his Adam’s apple bob as he took several swallows of the wine. He held the bottle out to read the label.

“Montepulciano, huh? Italian wine? It’s not bad,” he said.

“California Italian. I like it. And it’s three dollars a bottle.”

“Can’t beat that. Here, have some more.”

They passed the bottle back and forth until Jo was comfortably warm inside and out.

“Beautiful night.” Dom pulled her in closer.

“The weather? We’re going to talk about the weather?”

“Beautiful lady?”

“Is that a question or a statement?”

“A statement?”

“Well, that sounds convincing.” Jo chuckled.

“What do you want to talk about?”

This was just the opening Jo had been waiting for. Dom was sweet, but he needed someone to point him in the right direction. “Tell me about your dreams…”

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