Honor shut off the alarm, closed her eyes and tried to return to her dream. Nothing happened. She rolled over, covered her eyes with a pillow and tried to focus. When she realized her efforts weren’t going to pay-off, she sat up and looked around her suite.
What was it about this place? She had never experienced such bizarre dreams. They were so real. Unlike normal dreams, she was able to remember even the smallest detail long after waking up.
She glanced at the old journal lying on her bed and rationalized she must have incorporated the journal entries into her dreams. Feeling a bit silly, she shook off the eerie sensation and dressed for another day of packing at her mother’s house.
She placed the old journal into a box of keepsakes she planned to ship home to Chicago and picked up her cell phone. The moment she turned it on to check messages, it rang. William was calling. Reluctantly, she answered. While the phone was off, she had imagined confronting William about his despicable behavior and demanding an apology. But faced with the reality of his anger over her “desertion”, she cowered.
She apologized repeatedly for her impromptu trip, but stood her ground when he ordered her to return to Chicago immediately.
“Please, William. Try to understand. I postponed my family responsibilities until our divorce was finalized, but I have a legal commitment to liquidate my mother’s estate.”
“Why can’t you just hire someone to clean out the house?”
“No one else would know what papers and pictures are important to my family. Listen,” she lied, “my phone has been off a lot because I was too emotional about being back here to talk to anyone. I’m doing better now.”
William grudgingly acquiesced. “Okay, but hurry and get back here as soon as you can. Remember, you have important responsibilities here, too. And you didn’t even take your Blackberry with you, for God’s sake.”
Accustomed to biting her tongue to avoid William’s angry tirades, Honor mumbled goodbye and hung up. She got dressed and put on make-up, hoping to run into Josh Lancing at breakfast.
She was musing about her unusual dreams when her phone rang for the fifth time that morning. Exasperated and still remembering Reginald’s overbearing behavior in her dream, she barked, “What now?”
“Don’t get snippy with me!” William snarled. “I have some questions about setting up the new Wooden Rose account.”
His tone was so reminiscent of Reginald’s that Honor snapped.
“Come on, William. Even my assistant, Julie can set up a new account and assign engineering personnel. Please stop interrupting me with such routine questions. You know, I never call you when you’re on vacation or out-of-town on business.”
Honor reveled in William’s stunned silence at her uncharacteristic bravado, knowing it was only momentary. She decided to push her luck. “We’re supposed to be equal partners, and this is the first time I have ever asked you to cover for me. You’ve got to step up, William!”
Angry and confused, William hung up without responding.
Honor was shaking with exhilaration. “Men haven’t really changed much during the last century,” she observed. “But women have, so husbands are no longer a necessity.”
She strolled downstairs for breakfast and, again, stopped in front of the photograph of the woman whose likeness was so similar to her own. While gazing at the portrait, she remembered it was Darcy Loughman’s journal she had been reading when she fell asleep.
“Of course!” she beamed, smacking the heel of her hand against her forehead. “In my dream, I combined Darcy’s name with the face in this photograph.”
The whole thing made perfect sense in the light of day. She felt silly for allowing herself to become spooked by an over-active imagination. She ate breakfast alone, wondering how Josh was spending his morning.
When Honor’s phone vibrated, she hoped Josh was calling, but it was William again. “I swear I’m going to block his number!” she hissed as she flipped open the phone. This time, he was concerned about an upcoming meeting and his ability to present some technical concepts Honor had sketched in the client’s file. Honor tried to explain the design she envisioned, but William couldn’t understand.
“Dealing with the technical minutia is supposed to be your job,” he complained.
Honor was exasperated. “Who’s the team leader?”
“Pete Cross.”
“Okay, have him call my personal cell number - once. I’ll go over the design with him and then he can handle that part of the meeting for you. And please, William, don’t give my number to anyone else.”
William agreed immediately and hung up.
Honor finished briefing Pete just as she unlocked the door of her mother’s house. Without thinking, she called out, “Hi, Mom,” as she had done throughout her childhood.
Pretending to talk to her mother was comforting, so she continued. “Sorry I’m getting such a late start today. William keeps calling me for help, if you can believe that. He’s always said I don’t know crap about running the company.”
She walked into the kitchen and sat cross-legged on the floor. “You know, when William and I first started out, I loved the way he took charge of everything, but so much has happened since then. I was kidding myself to think we could keep our personal lives separate from work after the divorce. Things have got to change somehow.” She sighed.