“Jump a little,” Ross told her. “That ought to do it.”
Hannah jumped, but the peach seemed to be rising higher and higher on the branch.
And then another voice spoke from below. “Never stand on the top of a ladder,” that person said, and Hannah recognized her father’s voice. “How many times have I told you that, Hannah?”
“I’m sorry, Dad. I wouldn’t have done it, but my husband wants this peach and I need to get it for him.”
“People in hell want ice water,” her father said. “But that doesn’t mean you have to go down there to bring it to them.”
It was one of his favorite phrases and Hannah laughed. And when she laughed, she began to fall.
She fell slowly, very slowly, so slowly that she could see every leaf pass her eyes. She saw other peaches, peaches she could have reached, but it was too late for that. All she could do was hope, blindly, that Ross would catch her.
But he’d stepped away to film her instead, to document her fall for his next movie.
The ground approached, faster and faster, and she screamed in terror. She was going to die, broken into pieces by the parched earth below. She screamed once. Twice. And then . . .
“Hannah! What is it, Hannah?”
Someone was touching her arm and Hannah’s eyelids flew up.
“Where . . . ?” she began to ask, but suddenly it was all clear. She’d been dreaming and she was still in the lovely bed that Doc and Delores had bought for her wedding present. There was no hard, lethal ground below her, no fallen ladder, no peach tree laden with beautifully ripe peaches.
“What in the world were you dreaming?” Michelle asked her, sitting down on the side of Hannah’s bed.
“I was picking a beautiful peach, from a tree, I fell off the ladder, and . . .”
“And you scared Moishe half to death!” Michelle interrupted, lifting up the dust ruffle on the bed and leaning down to peer underneath. “When I ran in here to see what was wrong, the first thing I saw was Moishe diving under the bed.”
“It’s okay, Moishe,” Hannah said, attempting to reassure her pet. “You can come out now. It was just a bad dream.”
Michelle rose to her feet and headed toward the bedroom door. “Put on your robe and come out to the kitchen,” she said. “Moishe will follow you if you don’t tie your robe. You know he loves to chase the ties. And once you get out there and I’ve poured you a cup of coffee, I’ll show you why you were dreaming about falling out of a peach tree.”
By the time Hannah washed the sleep from her eyes and donned her robe and slippers, Moishe was out from under the bed. He eyed her warily as she put on her robe, but when she didn’t tie it, he came closer to bat at the ties.
Michelle was right, Hannah thought to herself, as she walked down the carpeted hallway. “Coffee,” she breathed as she entered the living room and the enticing smell drew her like a magnet. Coffee in the morning was the most wonderful gift a sleepy body and mind could give to itself. It woke the senses, spurred on mental function, and engaged the phenomenon that most people referred to as their get up and go.
The scent of ripe peaches grew more enticing with every step that Hannah took toward the kitchen. Once inside the doorway, she drank in the heady scent. “I’m here,” she announced.
“I see that.” Michelle turned to smile at her. “Sit down at the table, Hannah. Your coffee is waiting for you.”
Hannah sat. And Hannah drank. And Hannah sighed in wonderful contentment. Nothing in the world was more superb than coffee in the morning. “Thank you, Michelle,” she said gratefully. “You may have just saved my life.”
“The coffee is that good?” Michelle asked with a laugh.
“Yes, but it’s not just the coffee. You woke me up before I hit the ground. Someone once told me that if you die in your dream, it means that you’ll die in real life before you wake up.”
“That’s very interesting,” Michelle said, walking over to the wire rack on the counter, “but it smacks of superstition to me. I really doubt that it’s true. Because, if it were true, and whoever dreamed it did die, how would they let you know that they’d dreamed it and it was true?”
“I don’t know, but at least we don’t have to find out this morning. You came in to wake me before that happened.”
“Good. Tell me your schedule for today.”
“I’ll be at The Cookie Jar until eleven-thirty and then I’m driving out to the Lake Eden Inn to meet Sally for lunch. Don’t worry, Michelle. I’ll get that recipe for Peanut Butter Cheesecake for you.”
“Good. How about after that?”
“I’ll check in at work and if they’re okay, I’ll drop by Jordan High to watch your rehearsal. If that’s okay with you, that is.”
“It’s great. How about after that?”
Hannah shrugged. “It’s back to work, I guess. I wish I could identify the man who came into Tori’s condo last night, but I can’t very well go door-to-door, looking through everyone’s closet for black sneakers with silver laces and a silver stripe down the sides.”
“Right. If they don’t need us at The Cookie Jar, will you go to Mayor Bascomb’s office with me? I’ll call and make an appointment at three o’clock if that’s okay with you.”
“I’ll go, but why do you need to . . . never mind,” Hannah thunked the side of her head with her hand. “I get it, Michelle. You’re going to tell him that you’re holding a bake sale as a fundraiser for the Lake Eden Players and you’d like him to be a contestant in the pie eating contest?”
“Exactly right.”
“Do you have a game plan? Mayor Bascomb likes to be thought of as a dignified public official. And getting whipped cream and pudding all over his face isn’t exactly very dignified.”
“Don’t worry, Hannah. I’ve got a plan. I worked it all out this morning. I’m going to tell him that his sister was going to write a check to cover some of the expenses for the makeup she’d ordered, but she didn’t get around to it before she died.”