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I was in a daze when Hannah banged on our bedroom door. Victor rolled out of bed quickly, got to the door, and quietened her. I heard them talking, but nothing anyone said made sense, so I drifted, interested but not enough to join the awakened world.
My mind was glued to a beautiful dream, and someone, Victor, I thought, begged me not to wake up, but slowly, like an oil tanker turning, I dragged myself into consciousness.
After the door closed, my fiancee shook me gently.
“Amy.”
“Amy, honey.”
I crossed the hazy threshold from dream to reason and blinked several times, focusing on a dark, shadowy figure I recognized.
“What’s happening, Victor?”
“We have to go somewhere. Mom and Anastasia have a surprise for us.”
“Oh, that’s nice. Can’t it wait? It’s dark out, honey.”
I lay my head gently on the pillow, blindly reaching for my beloved’s hand. When I held his full palm, I tried pulling him back into bed, but he wouldn’t move, so I relaxed and heard my gentle snoring.
Victor shook me gently, and I roused more determinedly, knowing I must take his insistence seriously.
“We have to go now, baby.”
“Can I wear my nightshirt?”
“Pull some jeans on.”
“Can you get them for me, please, Victor? I’m so tired.”
He left me, and I dozed off again, fatigued by the hour, recent events, my pregnancy, and the fact I needed at least a few minutes to wake up, preferably with a coffee in hand, even if it was decaf. Victor returned within hours, or, as I discovered later when recounting the time and events with him, less than thirty seconds had passed.