A Small Town Dream (27 page)

She opened it a crack then said, “Come right in,
sir
.” Annie gasped.

“Ellen Lane—!” But it wasn’t Dean who peeked around the corner. It was Annie’s father with an envelope. He insisted she open it right then.

“Dad…” Tears filled her eyes. “Dad, this is too much.” Her father had paid for a full week’s honeymoon at the bed and breakfast in Rockland, and then two more weeks in New York, complete with tickets to the current hit Broadway shows.

“It’s
not
that much, Annie.” Ellen dabbed at the corners of Annie’s eyes with a tissue.

“Why not?”

“Look at the tickets again.” She did and laughed. They weren’t airline tickets. They were for the train. “Your young man told me he really enjoyed the train, so I got you a
sleeper
car, if you know what I mean.” He winked. Annie threw her arms around her father’s neck and tried not to weep. It wasn’t the last time she had to struggle to hold back tears that day. At least her groom made her laugh when he dramatically dipped her for a kiss at the end of the ceremony.

Annie threw her bouquet. Ellen caught it. But when Annie’s mother took her aside just before Dean swept her off for their wedding night, as she hugged her daughter, a seam tore in the shoulder of Annie’s going-away dress. The two women froze for a moment, then looked each other and laughed, remembering the similar scene in Annie’s mother’s favorite movie. They’d watched
Sleepless in Seattle
together at least a dozen times since that first Thanksgiving weekend after Paul Jenks’s fortuitous party.

“So, Annie, dear,” her mother chided gently. “
Now
do you believe in signs?”

***

Annie snuggled close to Dean on the east-bound train. It was January second, and this was the seventh morning she’d awakened to his voice in her ear,
good morning, Mrs. Moore
. They had boarded the mid-morning train and now, rocked gently by the motion of the wheels on the rails, together they watched the snow-covered landscape roll by.

“So,
Doctor
Moore,” she turned to him. “How are you enjoying your ride?”

“With you, Mrs. Moore, everything’s a wonderful ride. And I have to thank you.”

“For what?”

“For holding on to your dream of life in Rockland. I didn’t know it was my dream, too. It’s turned out to be the home I’ve always wanted.”

“
You
are what
I’ve
always wanted,” she said and kissed him gently.

“There is something your perfect little town has forced us into though, Mrs. Moore.”

“And what would that be, Dr. Moore?”

“Now we have no choice but to live happily ever after.” Annie sighed and leaned into her new husband. She had Rockland, she had Dean, and she had everything she’d always wanted and more.

“Happily ever after,” she murmured and let the rocking of the train lull her to sleep.

He was a veteran of the system, but even in reverse, the process was long, slow, and frightening.

The sounds. The doors clanging shut, the men shouting, the imposing faces of the guards, all heavily armed. And the smells. Sweat, and thick, heavy air, and the feeling of confinement that seemed to have an odor. Even though he was leaving, he would always feel confined, just having been there so long.

Nothing was different. Nothing was shocking. The well-oiled machine of the state penitentiary was absolutely predictable, right down to the length of time he had to wait before he was allowed out of the gate. He felt just as on display as he had when he first entered.

However, the logistics of the place didn’t trouble him as much this time. The only moment that seemed strange was when he moved to the guard who checked his pass.

“So, I see you’ve been a good boy. You got yourself a good little boy reward.” He wanted to punch him, but he’d learned to stuff his anger down.
And save it
, he reminded himself. So he kept walking even as the guard called at his back.

“Just like dealing with any other kind of animal, you know. Treat ‘em a certain way, they respond a certain way. You hear me, boy?” He stopped long enough to turn to the guard and feign compliant respect.

“Yes, sir. Thank you again for the pass, sir.”

“And you remember the rules, dontcha—
boy
?”

“Yes, sir. I know exactly when to be back—
sir
.”

***

He stood on the platform, smoking a bummed cigarette to ward off the mid-morning cold. He combed a hand nervously through his hair. He looked down the tracks, willing the train to come into sight.

“Where ya off to, friend?” He finished the last of his cigarette, flicked it away, stuffed his hands deep into his pockets, and looked over at the old man on the bench.

“East,” he answered, his breath clouding the January air.

“Whereabouts, sonny?” He looked at the old man for a moment, then turned back to watch for the train.

“New York,” he said, one corner of his mouth lifting in a sneer. “I’m going to New York.”

***

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