“What did you EAT last night?” Cassie asked, looking incredulous. “That is bizarre, Stella…Dead babies?” She’d completely stopped eating and was staring at me from across the table.
“Well, I fell down the stairs…” I admitted, taking a large bite of my fruit salad so I wouldn’t have to talk anymore right away.
“No wonder! You must have hit your head pretty hard. We should probably take you to the hospital to get checked out.” Cassie placed the back of her hand on my forehead as if to check my temperature, then felt around for a bump, but I shook my head and finished chewing my mouthful of food as quickly as possible.
“I’m fine!” I insisted. “I just need your advice. Dreams are supposed to reveal things about our waking lives, or something, but I can’t figure out what all that is supposed to mean. TruPaul, Alex and Penelope, Charlie…it’s a mess.”
Cassie laughed loudly, drawing attention from the people at surrounding tables. “I think you know where Charlie came from! I won’t lie, I’ve had some dreams with British underwear models myself, but they weren’t quite so PG…” She made an inappropriate gesture and I blushed red as the couple at a neighboring table raised their eyebrows. Cassie didn’t notice, but continued giggling.
I sighed, impatient and frustrated. I’d hoped Cassie would be able to help me make sense of the dream-happenings, but so far she just wanted to make fun of me or ship me off to the emergency room. Instead of replying, I sipped my water and glanced around the restaurant. I suppose I’ll just have to figure it out myself.
Cassie seemed to notice my frustration, because she stopped laughing and took my hand from across the table. “Stella. This isn’t hard. Of course you’re dreaming about Alex! You haven’t let him go yet. He’s moved on and you’re still focusing all your attention on him. If you think about him all day, you’re bound to dream about him all night.” I knew she was right, but I didn’t know what to do about it. It’s not that I wanted to obsess about Alex, although driving through his neighborhood probably wasn’t helping.
As if she could read my mind, Cassie continued. “Dream Stella seems to be way smarter than the real Stella right now. You’ve gotta talk to him. I don’t recommend breaking into his house as a way to break the ice, and you should probably leave the ginger behind for this, but you really do have to talk to him.”
“You sound like TruPaul,” I muttered.
“TruPaul was my favorite character in your dream!” Cassie replied. “She reminds me of Jiminy Cricket with fashion sense.” I giggled at the image in my head. “Besides, doesn’t Alex still have a closet full of your shoes? You can’t leave those things behind, girl! I think it’s time for a rescue mission.” Cassie waved her arm and a waiter appeared with the check. I offered my card, but she waved it away and paid with her VISA instead. “This is on me. You can pay me back by getting Alex out of your life once and for all. Now, we’re not wasting another moment sitting here. Get back to G.M., get your work done for the day, and get yourself a meeting with Alex ASAP.”
As we stood, Cassie wrapped me up in another bear hug. “You’re amazing, Stella. You’re the strongest person I know. You can do this.” She started to pull away, but I hugged her close a little longer, long enough to get myself together; I was on the verge of tears. I hadn’t felt so strong or amazing lately, and those words from Cassie were exactly what I needed. I’d lost myself somewhere, and it was time to get the strong, confident, independent Stella back.
As I walked to my Audi, I pulled my phone from my purse and dialed my office. My secretary answered with a cheerful greeting, and without missing a beat, I answered back – “Good afternoon, Rebecca!” I knew her name! “Could you please get me Alex’s number?”
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