feeling of dread where he and his nightmare were concerned. Usually, she could be most logical about any problem or situation confronting her, but her emotions ruled her mind when her husband was involved. She recalled her apocalyptic feelings when she awoke the night of their second wedding anniversary. A film of sweat formed on her forehead when she replayed Jon’s screams in her mind.
Trina had bolted to a sitting position, wide awake at the first sound. Turning on the lamp next to the bed, she had blinked her sleep-filled eyes, automatically placing her arms around his naked shoulders to comfort him in soft, reassuring tones. That goddamn dream! Why did it have to happen? Almost six months had passed since he had last experienced it and for a while she thought it might be gone for good.
Jon had trembled, his lids undulating as his eyes rolled back and forth in the safety of their own private darkness. Perspiration glistened on his well muscled body, his side of the bed damp from the excessive sweating brought on by the nightmare.
“Are you awake darling?” she asked quietly.
His face drawn into a mass of worry lines, he opened his eyes, staring at her. Grabbing her arm, he squeezed until she squealed in pain. Startled by her cry, he released his grip and nodding in answer to her question, coughed to clear his throat.
Trina jumped from the bed, racing to the bathroom for a glass of water. From past experience, she knew he would be unable to utter a word until his parched mouth and throat had been wetted.
“I’m making an appointment for you with a doctor first thing in the morning,” she said, returning with the water and a large towel draped over one arm.
Jon frowned, taking the glass to gulp the water. He coughed once more. “Come on, Trina,” he said thickly. “I’m fine. So I have a nightmare once in a while. So what? Probably something I ate or drank at the restaurant.” He peered at her through pain-filled eyes.
“I let you talk me out of it the last time you had the dream,” she said sternly. “I’m not giving in this time. How do you feel?”
Rubbing his temples, he said, “It hurts like hell.” He swung his legs over the edge of the bed. “I’ll take a few aspirins and be fine in the morning.” Standing, he toweled his body dry.
“Aspirins won’t do the job, darling.”
“I said I’ll be fine in the morning.”
“That may be, but I still think we’d better let a doctor take a look at you.”
“Come on, Trina. I’m not going to tell some stranger about my dream. Christ, he’d think I ‘m wacko or something. Maybe he’d call the boys in white jackets.”
“I think it’s an excellent idea,” she persisted, ignoring his lame protestations. “It’s about time you have a physical anyway.”
“I’m not going,” he said, stubbornly.
“Look Jon, once someone’s past thirty, it doesn’t do any harm to know everything is working all right. You’re thirty-three and I don’t even know the last time you had an examination.”
“When I bought life insurance, just before we got married.”
“That’s not what I mean. That exam wasn’t extensive and you know it.”
“Well, I still saw a doctor.”
“Did you tell him about your dream?”
“Why the hell should I have told him? You know how I feel about doctors,” he said vehemently. “Ever since that quack messed up with Mom and—”
He had launched into his tirade against the medical profession and Trina had carefully worked the conversation away from the subject.
Tearing lettuce and spinach for their salad, Trina shook her head in dismay. Jon could be so obstinate at times. A shudder ran through her when she thought of how she had learned of the dream. Shortly before their marriage, they had spent a weekend at Lake Geneva and Jon started screaming at the top of his voice after they had been asleep for several hours. She had been petrified. After he recovered, he explained, fascinating her with the
Trina had bolted to a sitting position, wide awake at the first sound. Turning on the lamp next to the bed, she had blinked her sleep-filled eyes, automatically placing her arms around his naked shoulders to comfort him in soft, reassuring tones. That goddamn dream! Why did it have to happen? Almost six months had passed since he had last experienced it and for a while she thought it might be gone for good.
Jon had trembled, his lids undulating as his eyes rolled back and forth in the safety of their own private darkness. Perspiration glistened on his well muscled body, his side of the bed damp from the excessive sweating brought on by the nightmare.
“Are you awake darling?” she asked quietly.
His face drawn into a mass of worry lines, he opened his eyes, staring at her. Grabbing her arm, he squeezed until she squealed in pain. Startled by her cry, he released his grip and nodding in answer to her question, coughed to clear his throat.
Trina jumped from the bed, racing to the bathroom for a glass of water. From past experience, she knew he would be unable to utter a word until his parched mouth and throat had been wetted.
“I’m making an appointment for you with a doctor first thing in the morning,” she said, returning with the water and a large towel draped over one arm.
Jon frowned, taking the glass to gulp the water. He coughed once more. “Come on, Trina,” he said thickly. “I’m fine. So I have a nightmare once in a while. So what? Probably something I ate or drank at the restaurant.” He peered at her through pain-filled eyes.
“I let you talk me out of it the last time you had the dream,” she said sternly. “I’m not giving in this time. How do you feel?”
Rubbing his temples, he said, “It hurts like hell.” He swung his legs over the edge of the bed. “I’ll take a few aspirins and be fine in the morning.” Standing, he toweled his body dry.
“Aspirins won’t do the job, darling.”
“I said I’ll be fine in the morning.”
“That may be, but I still think we’d better let a doctor take a look at you.”
“Come on, Trina. I’m not going to tell some stranger about my dream. Christ, he’d think I ‘m wacko or something. Maybe he’d call the boys in white jackets.”
“I think it’s an excellent idea,” she persisted, ignoring his lame protestations. “It’s about time you have a physical anyway.”
“I’m not going,” he said, stubbornly.
“Look Jon, once someone’s past thirty, it doesn’t do any harm to know everything is working all right. You’re thirty-three and I don’t even know the last time you had an examination.”
“When I bought life insurance, just before we got married.”
“That’s not what I mean. That exam wasn’t extensive and you know it.”
“Well, I still saw a doctor.”
“Did you tell him about your dream?”
“Why the hell should I have told him? You know how I feel about doctors,” he said vehemently. “Ever since that quack messed up with Mom and—”
He had launched into his tirade against the medical profession and Trina had carefully worked the conversation away from the subject.
Tearing lettuce and spinach for their salad, Trina shook her head in dismay. Jon could be so obstinate at times. A shudder ran through her when she thought of how she had learned of the dream. Shortly before their marriage, they had spent a weekend at Lake Geneva and Jon started screaming at the top of his voice after they had been asleep for several hours. She had been petrified. After he recovered, he explained, fascinating her with the
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