a novelist's dabblings · Blog 365

I Promise, If You Dream With Me …

Originally written on Sept. 20, 2012

It had been a long evening. The patrons at the box office had been insufferably demanding and more than unusually fussy. Libby couldn’t wait to get off work and return to her apartment for some debrief time with a nice hot cup of tea. As she was about to leave the theater, she heard a voice behind her, calling her to wait. She turned to see Peter, her dear friend for so long, coming toward her.

“Let me walk with you to your car?” he asked, pulling his coat on over his usher uniform.

“Of course!” Libby replied, a warm smile setting in. Peter always knew how to help relieve the stress, in part due to his understanding of the demands of the theater-goers.

“What a night, huh?” he asked as they walked down Broad Street.

“You too?” Libby replied, raising her eyebrows in sympathy.

“Ah, Libby! If only we were on the other side of the house! We’d never have to face the audience except as characters in another world.”

Libby quietly smiled at this dream, which wasn’t surfacing for the first time. “Peter, you know your time will come. My time, I think, will always be at the front of the house.”

“Libby, don’t say that!” Peter said, turning to face her. “Can’t you just imagine the two of us up there, frontlining a show together – the leading man and lady?”

They had come upon West Moreland Bridge and had stopped at the middle, the decorative aged molding inviting them to stop a moment and look out at the swirling fog over the water below.

After thinking a moment, Libby shook her head. “No, I can’t.”

Peter was quiet before slowly turning toward Libby. “Libs, do you ever imagine any of your dreams coming true?”

Libby couldn’t bear to make her eyes meet his. “There are some questions one should know by heart,” she barely murmured in reply, gaze fixed forward. “But I’ve avoided that one for so long, I don’t think I know the answer.”

“I think that is your answer,” Peter returned. “But why won’t you let yourself dream?”

“Because!” Libby suddenly burst out. “Because every time I do, my dreams get shattered. They’re mocked, ridiculed, thrown out, and I’m made to look the fool for having them. Better just not to have dreams and keep your heart safe.”

Libby’s last words came out cracked as she dashed tears away that were now trickling down her cheeks while Peter silently looked down. Before she knew it, his hands were on her shoulders, turning her to him, then gliding down her arms to wrap her hands in his.

“Libby. Look at me,” Peter said softly.

Libby’s eyes shone even more brightly in the lamplight at the sound of his voice so gently speaking her name, but she slowly raised them to meet his.

Never had she seen such tender, genuine honesty reflected in those blue eyes of his. It was captivating, steadying, and promising all at once. Even had she wanted to, Libby couldn’t have looked away.

“I promise you, that if you dream with me – your dreams will come to pass. I’ll do anything I have to in order to make your dreams come true. Just trust me. It’s time for you to know what fulfillment means, not just disappointment.”

Libby couldn’t speak, she was so overwhelmed by this boy’s promise to her. She merely let the tears fall, burying her head in his shoulder, letting his arms wrap around her. Though she didn’t know much, she was certain of this one thing: life as she knew it was about to change.

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