Air surges into my lungs so deeply and suddenly that I cough it up like water. I kick the covers off of me and thrash my body away from my mate. He wakes just as suddenly as I do.

My hair sticks to my face and neck, and I scratch it all off of me, feeling sick with a cold-hot, dizzy, and disoriented. David turns on the lamp beside him, saying, "Brigette? Brigette?" The urgency in his voice-he must think I'm dying. He grabs me only to release a sob from my chest. I jerk away and hold up my hand, fighting with myself, trying to convince myself that this is real life, and whatever that was-that pure hell-was nothing but a night terror.

I cry into my hands and David begs me to tell him what's wrong. I let him take me into his arms where I can say nothing but "I'm sorry."

It takes me an hour to calm down, like an infant just pushed into a world it doesn't understand. The dream plays over and over in my head, each time ingraining deeper with a duller blade. "I'm fine, I promise," I tell him for the third time. "It was just a nightmare." I lay on his chest as he sits against the headboard of our bed. He refuses to let me go, worried I might start panicking again. "Will you tell me what happened?"

"Just-just ridiculous, stupid things."

My parents arrive today. It's still too early to get ready now, so I wander downstairs once David has been convinced enough to permit my release. My mind is a whirlwind of flashbacks and imaginary sensations, and I slip on the staircase, sliding a few steps and catching myself with a rush to reality. David calls, hurries over, then monitors me the rest of the early morning until Helena makes her way through the door.

"A nightmare, huh?" Helena says, looking at me as I sit at the counter, holding my head up on the shelf of my palm.

"He's overreacting."

David crosses his arms. "You scared the hell out of me."

"And I'm sorry, okay? I didn't mean to. It just freaked me out."

"What did you dream?" She asks.

I shrug. "I can't even remember it." Lie.

"Maybe it isn't a big deal," she concludes, but David isn't satisfied. "Everyone has nightmares."

"Exactly," I agree. "See? It's fine. I'm fine."

Helena begins the preparations and planning for tonight's dinner, and I decide to stay with her as she does so. David-who has to get his day started-struggles to leave me, but I promise to call if I begin to feel unwell. He says he'll come back around lunchtime then kisses the top of my head. The moment he's gone, Helena asks, "So what did you dream about?"

"You'd think I'm a maniac if I told you."

She says, "We're all a little crazy, so go on."

"I killed him again," I spill, finding some relief in confession. "It isn't the first time I've dreamt it, it's just-this one felt so real. Too real. I still feel everything I did on my skin, still feel the tear in my chest." "Is this about that woman?"

I sigh. "I think so."

"Well, your family is coming to see you; maybe that will help. Sometimes we need our mothers to tell us that everything is going to be alright. A mother's touch will fix you right up." "More like a mother's shove."

"We'll do whatever it takes," she nods, laughing a bit to herself. "What time do they get here?"

"Five." I yawn. "Dinner is at seven-thirty, right?"

"Right. I'm making something special, even had to request some help. I hope your family likes lemon meringue pie."

"You know they'll love yours regardless, but I thought you only make that on special occasions."

Helena flips through her hand-written recipe book. "Is this not special? Two families coming together?"

"I suppose it's special when you say it like that."

"Good because the lemons I got yesterday are so beautiful and perfectly ripe. I have to use them."

"Then can I help until your assistance gets here?" I ask, standing.

She points at me. "Only if you eat something. I've seen what you're up to these days; you're eating like a bird. That makes you less fertile, you know." "Then I'll eat and send my apologies to the fertility gods."

"Very well. There are enough eggs in the fridge for the pie and your breakfast. And toast-with peanut butter. I can make some ham quickly also." "Am I having twins?" I kid and swing open the refrigerator.

"That reminds me, I have some good fruits for you too."

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