I had a strange dream that night, sleeping in the untouched guest bedroom in the attic.

It went like this:

I was standing in a well decorated baby's nursery. Pale pink walls with cream yellow borders and butterflies and fairies of every color and size painted over the pink. The floor was wooden and had one big rug in the middle of the room. It was the same colors as the walls and had three dancing fairies on it. Sitting atop the rug  was a beautiful bassinet of lilac purple embroidered with flowers and butterflies. Sewn into the skirt that wrapped around it were the words "We live in Harmony". Harmony was capitalized and had its own line.

I walked forward and as I was about to peek into the bassinet, Evan walked in and wrapped his arms around my waist.

Kissing my neck he said,

"We make a beautiful child."

I looked down into the bassinet to find a truely beautiful baby. She wore a yellow nightgown and was wrapped snugly in a pink blanket. She had Evan's strawberry red hair and my curls. She was sleeping, her eyes closed. As I watched, the slid slowly open, revealing Evan's green irises.  She started to fuss and Evan lifted her up, handing her to me with a smile.

"I think it's someone's feeding time," he murmured. "I'll leave you two alone."

Then he kissed me on the cheek and I woke up.

I forgot the dream immediately whe I saw what time it was. 11:45 and I'd promised Evan I'd meet him at Mabel's at noon.

With a squel I jumped from the bed and ran into the bathroom where I took the quickest shower in the history of the world, towel dried my hair and pulled it into a braid, brushed my teeth, and applied deoderant and perfume. Rushing into my room I pulled out the first things my hands touched. The beauty of Michigan was that one day it would be forty degrees out and the next it could be a nice seventy, which it was now. I'd checked the temperature on our outdoor thermometer as I'd rushed into the bathroom.

So I pulled on my only skirt (a long denim one that fell to my knees, hemmed in white lace, with a slight flare at the waist) and a short sleeved, cream colored blouse with a gauzy outer vest that tied in the front. Grabbing my  purse off the night stand, I ran downstairs, hurridly shoving my feet into flat brown sandles. Then i was out the door and sprinting towards the bus stop. I barely made it before the doors closed, but I did and I paid my fee and sat in the front.

It was 12:14 by the time I got off the bus downtown and madee my way toward the diner. I could see Evan through the window I took a moment to compose myself before I entered the small diner and made my way over to where Evan sat.

"Sorry I'm late," I said as I slid into the booth across from Evan. "I over slept."

He smiled. "That's okay, I did too. I just sat down a minute ago." He pushed a cup of apple juice towards me. "I took the liberty of ordering that for you because you said last night that apple juice was your favorite thing to drink."

I smiled.

"That's so sweet, thank you."

He blushed. "No problem."

I stared at him for a moment and then said,

"Let me guess what you're going to order for lunch."

"Sure," he said, a grin stretching his face. "This should be interesting."

I tapped my finger against my chin. "Hmmmm...you want a ham sandwhich with extra mayo, no ketchup or mustard, with a slice of cheese cut thin, on white bread and a side of baked potato smothered in sour cream and a tall glass of white milk." He shook his head, his grin growing. Truth was, I already knew what he was getting. He'd told me last night how he always ordered the same thing every time he ate here. I just like to play with him.

"No. Then you want a steaming plate of spaghetti and meatballs  and garlic bread with a side salad and a glass of pepsi." He shook his head again and I scratched my chin. "This is harder than I thought. Oh, wait, I know!" I looked him right in the eye and said, "You want a turkey sandwhich, no mayo, lots of mustard, lettuce, two slices of tomatoes with a side of fries and a glass of chocolate milk. Extra chocolate blended  well enough that you can't taste the milk."

His jaw dropped.

"How'd you know?"

I shrugged.

"You're not the only one who remembers what they're told."

He smiled.

"I didn't think you were paying attention."

I grinned back at him.

"I can be surprising sometimes."