A/N: Entry for @CommunityInteractive Weekly Contest Wk 4: The Deepening Dream 05/13/20

Trigger Warnings: pregnancy, life choices, grownup decisions

Pregnant...ohgodpregnant. I stumbled out of the campus health center, nauseated, exhausted and alone. So totally, but absolutely not, alone. All the way back to my tiny dorm room, my mind whirled with half-formed fears and piecemeal plans. A bomb barely the size of a peanut had laid waste to my smooth safe path, scraped the jagged shards of scholarships and perfect GPA into a pit of broken dreams and condescending judgement. Before I could take a new path, I would have to build one from the wreckage. But before I could build one, I needed a nap. Damn pregnancy brain.

The giggles surrounded me, chasing me in and out of doorways, tripping me on the stairs, fading into the distance and then appearing right behind when my back was turned. Still I never slowed, never stopped searching, calling out, hunting down the source.

I finally picked up the trail of crumbs, literal crumbs, some kind of mushy shortbread ground into the floor and striped along the wall. For a time, my hunt went well. I was steadily gaining on my wily prey. Laser focused on the eventual capture, I was suddenly....

Oowwwwcchhh! Shiii-ugarsmacks!! I landed hard on my butt, clutching one foot and death-glaring the squeaking wooden dog, it's wheeled paws spinning forlornly upside-down. I decided against a retaliatory boot to its backside and staggered to my feet, well, foot. Hobbling now, but with greater motivation, I finally tracked my quarry to its temporary den. A telltale scrap of its favorite nesting material clung to the entrance.

Satisfied that it was now cornered, I sank down and waited silently for it to emerge. It did not take long. These wee beasties were notoriously impatient and exceptionally curious. Finally, the flimsy door creaked open and a pair of grubby paws dangled just above the ground. The creature waddled backwards out of the hidey-hole and landed on its well-padded rump with a soft thud. It rummaged around in the shadowed den and returned with a small package in one fist and its preferred fuzzy fabric in the other.

The anticipation was driving me crazy, the need to see this wild animal in all its glory, to gaze fully upon its form. It pushed up onto hind legs, nearly tripping over the bit of cloth dragging between them. Staggering a bit, it turned and faced me.

And I crashed. Into myself, because there was nothing else that touched me. Just the weight of my soul, the instinctive certainty that I knew this small being, every inch, every molecule was as familiar as my own body. From the cloud of fluffy, dark curls to the smooth curve of cheek and chin, this face was the shape of my heart. The snapping, sassy flames in those chocolate eyes, the gasping breathless giggles, the wicked wiggle as it prepared to run, played out like a thousand times before and a million more to come. I knew, knew HER so totally and completely, the sweet, feisty, stubborn spirit of her. And so I knew too, that she would be okay, that everything would be okay.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I closed my car door but had to reopen it immediately to free the hem of my unzipped graduation gown. I had done it, an extra couple of semesters and the desertion of several friends and family members notwithstanding. My choices, my sacrifices, my hardscrabble path had led me here, so totally, but absolutely not, alone.

The dream had kept me company, as it often did this time of year. It painted over my sleeping thoughts with the hazy wash of might have been. In my waking hours, the stronger memories held sway, the wildly waving fists, the soft ridiculous tuft of fuzz over the furrowed brow, the perfectly indescribable scent at the back of the neck. Waking or sleeping, I pushed on and on, to this day.

Out of habit, I stopped by the mailbox just outside the door. Amidst all the flyers and bills, an envelope stood out. In handwriting I recognized, but had not hoped for. I ripped it open and discarded the congratulatory card, in favor of the real prize. Three photos of softly curved cheeks, snapping sassy eyes and a wild cloud of dark fluffy curls sent through the middle-man, the lawyer who had handled all the arrangements. She was okay. Everything was okay.