BABE’S BLOG

Have you ever had a dream that seems to go on all night? Maybe it did or maybe it just felt like it did but . . . phew!

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THE DREAM . . .

I’m walking along the beach minding my own business and enjoying the day. Picture-perfect, almost cartoonish waves breaking to my right. Dazzling white sand dunes rolling by on my left. In a place where the sand dips between two dunes I see a beachside café with brightly colored sun umbrellas silhouetted against a cloudless blue sky. Someone is sitting by himself at one of the tables, his face hidden in the shadows. I decide to climb up the dune to get a better look but the sand slips from under my bare feet when I try. The more I struggle to climb, the more the sand slides, and I get nowhere. My knees and thigh muscles ache from exertion but still I can’t make it. I can give up, go back to the beach and continue my walk, but some inner voice drives me forward. I need to see what’s up there. I need to see who’s up there. And then he’s standing above me, reaching down to offer his hand. I didn’t see him get up from the table, he’s just there. His hair’s thick and wavy, a light creamy brown. His eyes are the same shade of green as the sea oats. He smiles as though he’s been expecting me and I shiver with recognition. I know this guy, but I don’t know him. Suddenly, I’m shy. Speechless. Awestruck. And then I wake up.

Dang!

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I flip around on my bed so I can get a full view of the framed picture. What’s up with this photograph? Two nights in a row. And the guy? I’m sure he isn’t someone I’ve seen before. I hear the Skype ringtone coming from my laptop and it can only be Perry. But I can’t talk to him just then. As dumb as it sounds, I feel guilty, like I was dreaming about a real guy and cheating on Perry. Or maybe I was cheating on the dream guy if I talk to Perry at that moment. And I can still feel the sensation I had when I looked into Dream Boy’s eyes. Powerful. Intimate. Something I definitely don’t want to let go of too soon. And another thing. The headache again. The one that had been slightly nagging the last time. This time it feels like someone’s behind my eyeballs, pushing from the inside out.

Aaagh!

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FIXING THE AC & MEETING A NEW PERSON . . .

Even though my air conditioner’s running at a low roar, I can hear the commotion right outside my window. I get up but Mom isn’t around so I go outside to investigate. I find her in the back with Dee, the AC repairwoman. The two of them are hunched over the AC unit, a worker’s box of tools by Dee’s feet.

“Babe, I’d like you to meet Mrs. Cummings,” Mom says. “She’s just finished up and we’re going inside now to make sure everything works.” Then Mom gives me a once-over with her x-ray eyes. “You feelin’ alright?”

“Yeah, just a little headache but it’s already going away.”

“Call me Dee,” Mrs. Cummings says. “I’m not a Mrs. anymore, anyhow.” She has a really nice smile, the kind that instantly puts you at ease. She has laughing eyes with long, thick lashes. She’s pretty for a woman that age—Mom’s age. Even when I saw her on the street I could tell.

“You stopped to offer me a ride the other day,” I remind her. “I was the one on the bike looking for the Piggly Wiggly.”

Dee chuckles. “I was a little worried,” she says in a rich drawl. “So how are y’all liking it here so far?”

“I haven’t left the house yet,” Mom admits. “But Babe . . . she’s the adventuress. She’s already been exploring.” Mom always turns the focus back on me, like she’s the PR person in charge of promoting me. It’s usually a nice thing until it’s not.

“I like it a lot,” I say. It isn’t really the truth. I actually don’t like this town very much, but I don’t want to insult Dee Cummings. I’m still hoping Sugar Dunes will grow on me. And I’m still dreading another brand new school where I don’t know anyone. “I’m looking forward to starting work next week,” I continue to lie in that way proven to please grown-ups.

“Where are you working?” We’re inside and Dee’s messing with the wall thermostat. A low hum, a pause, and then the air conditioner comes to life.

“The Crystal Point tennis shop.” I feel a cool breeze coming from the wall vent above me.

“Really?” Dee turns to look at me. “You might be seeing my son there this summer. He’s signed up for a tennis camp some of the young people put together.”

“I’ll watch out for him. What’s his name?”

“Alonso. Actually, I signed him up for the camp. Wasn’t anything he would’ve done on his own. He’d rather spend the summer in front of his computer. He’s not much for sports but he’s a real smart boy. I thought it’d be good for him to get out of the house and get some exercise and, you know . . . mingle with young folk.”

Why do adults always think we should mingle with each other? Yeah, sometimes we want to but sometimes we can’t stand each other.

I want to say something supportive but I’m skeptical of parents making kids do things they don’t really want to do. Especially tennis, which is one of my favorite things in the world. I hate to see someone being pushed into it against their will.

“If there’s anything I can do to help out, just let me know.”

I feel this is a pretty safe statement because I doubt there’s much I can do to help out but it still sounds good to say it. Mom beams at me.

“Thanks! Like I said, he’s a real smart boy. He can practically take apart an air conditioner and put it back together blindfolded. Cars too. I haven’t needed a mechanic since he was eleven. But it’s just the two of us and he needs to get out some. He’ll be starting high school this fall.”

Okay, so I met someone new and she’s nice and promotes her kid the same way Mom promotes me. I’ll probably meet him at some point.

Alonso.

Comments:

Sweetness: okay no offense but i’m more interested in what happened to perry. did i tell you i think i know someone who knows him? anyway, dee sounds cool and i’m all for women doing jobs that usually dudes do but please write more about you and perry. and i don’t care that much about dreams because i don’t really believe they mean anything.

Babe: I appreciate that you follow my blog but I’m going to write about what interests me so if you don’t like it then you don’t have to read it. Sorry if that sounds mean but I can’t just be taking directions from my readers, you know? I wouldn’t tell you what to write on your blog. But thanks for reading anyway and I hope you still keep reading.

Sandman: Hey Baby! Hey Sweetness! How you 2 beautiful ladies doing today?

RoadWarrior: Hello there. I came across your blog while doing research for an upcoming trip my husband and I are planning to the Gulf Coast. I must say it’s not the travel blog I expected to find but I’m hooked on your story and love your descriptions. Please keep going. We’re retired and hope to be taking our RV down there come November. Best of luck to you.

Babe: Thanks for the follow Road!

DreamMe: Great topic. Hope we get to see more of your Dream Boy.

Babe: Hi DM. Can’t say if we will or won’t since I write about what’s really happening in my life. Thanks for the follow.