Chapter 3

Lynette awoke at her usual 6:00 am, dragging herself out of bed, physically and mentally exhausted from the dream, and less sleep than she was accustomed to. She showered and started breakfast hearing Cherie's alarm going off. Her mind again went back to last night and how vividly real the dream had been, but dismissed it as her teenage daughter came bounding down the steps a few minutes later.

"Gee, Mom, you look like crap," opined Cherie as she joined her mother at the breakfast table.

"I didn't get much sleep last night."

"Up working on the book?"

"Well, yeah, but then after I went to bed, I had a nightmare and had trouble getting back to sleep."

It was only a little white lie.

"Sounds like you and the little girl in your book are a lot alike."

They both smiled.

"Could be," she replied and the conversation drifted on to other things, among them Cherie's outfit. The teen had been choosing progressively tighter and more revealing outfits, something they had discussed before.

"Shall I start calling you Brittany?" skewered Lynette.

"Oh, Mom. All the girls wear stuff like this, many of them a lot worse than this."

"We've had this conversation before. I just want you to use some good taste as well as trying to fit in."

"I know, but this really isn't out of line."

"Borderline," was all Lynette opined.

"Message received."

"Now about the other thing..."

"It's not a "thing," Mom."

"Honey, you know we can talk anytime you want, but if you need to talk with someone else I can find a counselor or..."

"Mom, I don't need a counselor. I just like girls, okay? I don't hate boys or anything, it's just that I like being with girls."

"Honey, it's normal to pal around with girls at your age..."

"Mom, it isn't palling around, okay? I kissed Trudy Prichard last week. We both got turned on."

"But Cherie..."

"Mom, it's okay. It was just a one time thing. Trudy's not my type. So don't get your panties in a knot."

"Honey, I don't want to overreact and I am so glad you feel you can talk with me. It's just that I've never..."

"Been attracted to girls? Yeah, it must seem like something from outer space to you."

"Well, maybe not that far, but I'll admit when you came home that day last year and told me how you felt, I was pretty shaken up. I was afraid that maybe your father's and my troubles had somehow..."

"No, Mom, it doesn't happen like that. I didn't just wake up one morning and say, gee, I think I'm gonna start liking girls. I've known for a long time that I wasn't like the other kids. I wasn't sure exactly how or why until it suddenly occurred to me that while the other girls stood around eyeballing the guys, I was checking out the girls."

"Just take it slowly, okay?"

"Sure, Mom. I know you think this is just a phase. Who knows, maybe it is, but I don't think so. Anyway, I'm not worried. I'm me and i happen to like me."

"So do I, Kiddo," smiled Lynette.

"I'm not pushing anything. I'm just taking things a day at a time and seeing what life offers."

"Just be careful, Honey. There are lots of ignorant people out there who..."

"I know. I'll be careful. I promise."

"So, finish your breakfast and let's get you to school."

Moments later the two were out the door, into the car and on their way.

Dropping Cherie at school, Lynette, the dream still fresh in her mind, returned home where she jogged and walked along the beach clearing her mind and body of the unsettling dream. A warm bath and she felt refreshed and ready for the day. She often wore jeans and shirt around the house, especially when she wrote. Fixing herself another cup of coffee she settled in front of the laptop, called up the manuscript and began working on the story. It was almost four hours later that she looked up to find the morning gone. Arising and feeling a bit hungry, the lovely mother and author fixed a sandwich, popped a can of diet soda and snacked as she caught up on some housework.

While there was repainting and minor remodeling ahead, she knew that could wait, but the house had stood vacant for years and all furniture from previous owners had been moved to the attic. Since Lynette had little furniture to move from the previous house she fully intended to see if any of the stored furniture could be used. She had been dreading it because the real estate agent had told her no one had been in the attic in years.

Expecting to find a deep layer of dust on a lot of broken and worn out furniture, Lynette climbed the narrow staircase and opened the door to the long abandoned attic. She was pleasantly surprised to find there were several pieces she could use, including a dresser/mirror which would look good in Cherie's room. And while the dust was fairly thick, she reasoned it would be a good weekend project for Cherie and her. They would make it an adventure, sorting, cleaning and moving the pieces downstairs.