\u201cBaby.\u201d That soft, feminine voice. \u201cBaby how are you?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cJessie.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cBaby listen to me.\u201d There it was again. There was the excitement on her voice.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI\u2019ve been thinking you know. I\u2019ve been thinking and you see-\u201c<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cJessie.\u201d Joshua interrupted. He knew what she was going to say already. \u201cIt\u2019s 5 am. You can\u2019t keep doing this, Jessie.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cOh but I\u2019m in this so very tiny phone booth in Vegas, Joshua. And I just had to call you, I had to tell you.\u201d He could imagine her smile.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWhat did you have to tell me, Jessie?\u201d He knew. Asked anyway because, well. It\u2019s Jessie, you know?<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cOh baby I\u2019ve been thinking. About a trailer by the sea.\u201d She paused. She was imagining, he knew. \u201cWe could go to Mexico.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWe?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYes we, <\/em>baby!\u201d Joy. Pure joy. \u201cYou, the cat and me!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cIs that so?\u201d His chest hurt. He struggled to breath.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cWe\u2019ll drink tequila.\u201d She giggled with excitement. \u201cAnd look for seashells! Now doesn\u2019t that sound sweet, baby?\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n Oh Jessie you always do this, every time I get back on my feet…<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cBaby baby baby! Tell me you see it too.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cJessie.\u201d Cut it. Cut her talk. Stop this pain. <\/em>Loud silence on the line. \u201cPaint me a picture then- about how it\u2019s gonna be.\u201d A tear fell down his cheek. \u201cTell me all about our little trailer by the sea. Tell me about this dream you had.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cNo baby. Not a dream. This is real, this is gonna happen.\u201d Another promise. \u201cI swear to God this time it\u2019s gonna last.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Oh jessie, how do you always seem to know just when to call?<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cHow is he?\u201d She asked in a soft, sad voice.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cMoses? He\u2019s just fine.\u201d But he used to think about you all the time… and we finally took your pictures down off the wall.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cBaby get your stuff together.\u201d Her voice quickened. \u201cBring Moses and drive real fast.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n And he listened to her promise.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cI swear this time it\u2019s gonna last.\u201d She promised again. \u201cBut drive real fast, baby. Dreams won\u2019t wait for us.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cJessie?\u201d Asked Joshua before she could hang up. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Tears filled his eyes. He knew he wouldn\u2019t go. Wouldn\u2019t drive anywhere, not fast, not slow. Would go back to sleep. Jessie wouldn\u2019t call the next morning either. There would be no seashells, nor trailer by the sea. Still, Joshua listened to Jessie every time she called, and dared to imagine, just for a minute or two.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cJessie, you know. You can always sell any dream to me.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Story based on Joshua Kadison\u2019s song, Jessie. <\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" \u201cBaby.\u201d That soft, feminine voice. \u201cBaby how are you?\u201d \u201cJessie.\u201d \u201cBaby listen to me.\u201d There it was again. There was the excitement on her voice. \u201cI\u2019ve been thinking you know. I\u2019ve been thinking and you see-\u201c \u201cJessie.\u201d Joshua interrupted. He knew what she was going to say already. \u201cIt\u2019s 5 am. You can\u2019t keep doing […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3,"featured_media":735,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[18,38],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-737","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-drama","category-romance"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.writerspeak.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/737","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.writerspeak.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.writerspeak.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.writerspeak.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/3"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.writerspeak.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=737"}],"version-history":[{"count":5,"href":"https:\/\/www.writerspeak.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/737\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":747,"href":"https:\/\/www.writerspeak.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/737\/revisions\/747"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.writerspeak.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/735"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.writerspeak.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=737"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.writerspeak.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=737"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.writerspeak.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=737"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
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