Chapter 18: Fantasies

Jaime and Keira and the Voyeur

«HOW DO YOU FEEL?» Jaime asked when they went for their Sunday walk to the park. Keira’s parents were still away, but they felt it would be better to stick to a routine that allowed them some contact but didn’t lead to shedding their clothes.

«I’m so in love with you, » Keira said. «I don’t feel the least bit bad about anything we did yesterday.»

«And... her?»

«Yeah. That was something else! Did you think her up?»

«I’m still trying to comprehend that you are my girlfriend. I can’t even imagine someone else, » Jaime sighed.

«Except she was with us. And we didn’t imagine her. It was important, somehow.»

«Are we alone now?» Jaime asked.

Both assessed their filters and barriers.

«We seem to have good filters set up right now. I think it might take some extraordinary contact to bring her in, » Jaime said.

«Maybe some other time, » Keira said. «I’m worried about how much control she has over the contact. Even if she has any. It could be us that’s drawing her in. What if she was doing something important when we made love? I mean like driving, or taking a test.»

«Or talking to her parents!»

The two walked hand-in-hand, listening to the sounds that surrounded them. That included happy children playing an imagination game in which they were hunting for dragons. Though the dragons were different in each child’s mind, they were equally real.

«I was thinking about the play some more, » Keira ventured. «It was like those children playing their imaginary dragon game. The game they are playing completely fills their minds. They don’t have room for any other thoughts.»

«That’s like most of the actors were. They were so into their characters, they didn’t have any other thoughts, either. I see, » Jaime added.

«Maybe we should select a play we can get into and memorize it. Then we could slip into the characters anytime we felt vulnerable. No one else could read what we were thinking and I’ll bet we couldn’t hear anyone else talking to us or just broadcasting their thoughts, » Keira suggested.

«I’m willing to try that out. It seems that control of our own broadcasting and receiving is really significant. We know there are others like us out there. At least somewhat like us. Angus is the only one we’ve actually had a conversation with and for all his detective work, he’s really a kind guy. We should be careful about what we let out—and what we let in, as well.»

«Except... »

«Except our ... what do we call her?»

«Let’s say she’s a satellite for now. It feels like she is just caught in our orbit.»

«Except our satellite, » Jaime agreed.

«Let’s kiss and see if she joins us.»

«Do you want to go back to your house first?»

«No. I don’t want to risk getting carried away. We can’t go too far while we’re here in the park.»

«Yeah. I just ... Thinking about kissing you brings a hundred wonderful feelings and images to mind, » Jaime said.

«We’ll see if we can keep them under control. And her.»

«I love you, » Jaime thought as their lips came together.

«I love you, too.»

I love these characters! They turn me on so much! I need to find a story for them. Maybe I should go to my room and think about them for a while.

«Not now, love. We just wanted to give you a little kiss.»

Yeah. Just a little kiss. I really don’t have time right now. I need to finish this paper or Ms. Sullivan will be all over my case tomorrow.

Jaime and Keira held their kiss another moment or two and then slowly parted. They were sure they heard a sigh.

«Later, » they whispered.

They returned to Keira’s house holding hands, but holding their thoughts behind barriers to the outside world.

«She thinks we’re characters in a story she wants to write!» Keira whispered inside to him.

«That’s an interesting take. I wonder if she knows she’s part of the story.»

«And just kissing with our minds open to it brought her in with us. We need to be really careful not to interrupt something important that she’s doing. Who is Ms. Sullivan?»

«At the moment, I’d say she’s a clue. Our satellite is a student. Ms. Sullivan is a teacher. We can check the faculty of all the schools in town to see if there is a match somewhere, » Jaime suggested.

«Then we could go there and try to spot her.»

«Very carefully.»

«Right. This could take a while. It’s a short week and I’ll bet every teacher in the city has made papers due before Thanksgiving. I have two.»

«We’ve both got the paper for Ms. Henderson’s lit class. And I’ve got one for Design Tech. But there’s only three days of school, then Thanksgiving. It’s so nice of your parents to invite us to Thanksgiving dinner. It’s like ... being accepted into your life, » Jaime said.

«And your father asked if he could bring Olivia!»

«I haven’t even met her yet. I hope she’s nice!»

«How could she be anything else, » Keira laughed.

«I love you, Keira.»

«I love you.»

They kissed softly once more and heard a sigh in the backs of their minds.

Jaime and Keira and the Families

The time both flew and crawled getting to Thanksgiving. The papers that were due were no small matter. As seniors, they were expected to write papers that were properly formatted, with all quotes and references cited correctly. In a way it was good that these two papers were due before Thanksgiving instead of being part of the great Christmas holiday break rush—like Jaime’s psychology paper was. And he’d definitely need time to study for his Calculus final. Jaime and Keira scarcely had time to meet after school and hold hands or have a little kiss. There was no time for anything else.

While they had slowed down some of their amorous adventures, David’s love life had picked up. Olivia was a little younger than David’s 42, but was definitely interested in him. When they picked her up on the way to Keira’s house, Jaime immediately read that she had hoped he would ask her out and was very pleased. Jaime concentrated on not hearing her because he didn’t want to eavesdrop on his father and his love interest.

“I’m so happy you all included me in your invitation to dinner,” Olivia said when she met June and John. “I had to get out of California because the superficial pressure there was killing me. It’s all about how you look and where you live and who you know. But I don’t have any family up here. David came to my rescue.”

“You are more than welcome, Olivia,” June said. “Jaime and Keira have drawn us closer to David. I’m glad you could join us as well.”

“I thought Dad just made you up so I wouldn’t feel bad about spending time with Keira,” Jaime signed. Keira interpreted for him, much to David’s delight.

“I’m not going to throw cold water on your relationship,” David laughed, “but I don’t feel like I need an imaginary friend in order to cope.”

«Unlike us, » Keira shot to Jaime.

«She’s not imaginary. We are!»

«Oh, yeah.»

“There was an article in Psychology Today a couple of years ago—maybe more—that said all our friends are imaginary,” June said. “It’s especially true in our era of internet communications and artificial intelligence. We have hundreds of friends online whom we have never met. We have bits and pieces that they’ve exposed to us, but most of our friendship is imaginary.”

“Thank heavens for real people,” Olivia said, taking David’s hand.

“Sartre said we are beings that cause ourselves,” Jaime signed and Keira interpreted.

“Did I get that right?” Keira asked. Jaime nodded.

“He also suggests that in order to exist, we must interact with others,” Jaime continued with Keira interpreting.

“That’s a deep subject for high school,” John said. “How did you get into Sartre?”

“Oh, we had to read The Stranger in our lit class as an example of existentialist literature,” Keira said.

“I thought it was interesting and read some other of his works. Being and Nothingness was really deep and I didn’t comprehend more than a quarter of the book,” Jaime signed.

“Most of my reading is technical, I’m afraid,” David said. “How did all of you happen to get into Psychology Today and Sartre?”

“Well, June is a social anthropologist and I teach literature at the university. We actually met in college in psychology class,” John said.

“Don’t worry, though. I think we’ve both exhausted our knowledge on the subject,” June laughed. Olivia breathed a sigh of relief.

Trayce and Lanie Lombard

All told, the Thanksgiving holiday was relatively painless. Even Trayce had fun with her mother, who seemed almost her old self.

“Do you want to go shopping tomorrow?” Mrs. Lombard asked her daughter?

“Really? Who can get too much shopping? That would be fun!” Trayce said.

“I’ve been failing as a mother,” Mrs. Lombard said. “I’m sorry, Trayce. When your father was taken from us, it was like part of my being left me. I’m working on getting better. I’ve been attending AA meetings the past couple of weeks. I can’t promise I’m there yet, but I want to be here for you. I realized I was on the brink of losing my daughter as well as my husband.”

“Mom, I love you. It’s been hard on me, too. I’m sorry if I haven’t been a good daughter.”

“Don’t! Don’t ever doubt that you are a good daughter. Taking care of me when I’ve been so depressed is not something you should ever have had to do. Your love has made a huge difference to me.”

“What’s changed, Mom? I mean, I’m happy we’re out doing things together, but what’s happened, like this week?”

“In addition to starting AA, I went back to counseling, just like we did for a while last year. Maybe you should go back, too. But you seem to be doing fine. I started hearing voices of people who weren’t there and imagining terrible things happening all the time. I started seeing a new therapist a couple of weeks ago and she prescribed a new medication for me. She also told me I needed to start attending AA because alcohol would react negatively with the medicine. I can’t believe what a difference it’s made. I almost feel like my old self. I know I’ve got a long way to go, but for the first time since your father died, I feel like I have hope.”

Trayce took in the information that her mother had heard voices and imagined terrible things. Perhaps it was genetic! Maybe her whole story idea was because she was schizophrenic and could be cured with her mother’s magic pills! She needed to take that into consideration. And weigh the possibility against the blossoming of her writing. She’d turned in her short story called “Murder by Angus.” She was pleased with it and was sure Ms. Dorn would like it, even though it had some pretty risqué bits. After all, two of the characters were strippers and everything any of the three of them said had a double entendre.

“I might see some friends over the Christmas break,” she ventured, wondering where that idea had come from.

“Good. Good. I’m glad you are meeting friends. You’ve seemed to avoid people a lot this year.”

“I think that’s another aspect of missing Dad. And you. I didn’t ... um ... feel very likable,” she said.

“I’m so sorry, Trayce. You are always welcome to bring your friends to the house. I know it’s been embarrassing, but I think I’ll rehire that cleaning service who came in every other week. Neither of us needs the burden of keeping the house in ‘company’s welcome’ shape.”

“If we can afford it, that would be great.”

“We can. I plan to start job hunting, too. Might even get a holiday job if I see something interesting at the mall this weekend. You can point out what store you’d like the best discounts at tomorrow.”

“Mom! You can be so funny sometimes.”

Emerson

Emerson’s holiday was not as positive as the others. She enjoyed the time with her parents, her younger sister, and her grandparents. She’d always been blessed with a happy and comfortable home. For her eighteenth birthday, her grandparents had bought her a new Kia.

Her grandfather, however, was a classic homophobe. He’d taken her car shopping and saw she liked an Outback. He immediately steered her to the Kia dealer and told her he’d buy her any car on their lot if she’d just forget about the Outback. He didn’t want his girl driving around in a lesbian car.

Emerson cringed at the declaration. Her grandfather was always so nice and loving otherwise. She told him if she ever had a girl lover, she’d make sure she brought her guy, too. Even at his age, her grandfather was enough of a dirty old man that the thought of two girls with a boy made him stop to think. If he knew what she’d done in Paris ... Well, she wasn’t a lesbian—at least all the time. She’d made love to both Dom and Raquel and loved them both. She guessed that made her bisexual. Whatever. She didn’t need a label. She loved both of them and couldn’t wait to return to Paris.