Marney in the Middle

Chapter 37: I Dream of The One

I couldn't stop thinking about what Toria said all night. "Stay away from that Malcolm kid" – what did she mean by that? Does she know something I don't? But how could she? He's in my grade and it's not like they run in the same circle. Totally cryptic. Then again... Toria hasn't exactly led me wrong before.

Maybe, I decide after three hours of non-productivity, I'll just avoid him until she gets back. The more I think about it, that's actually a good plan.

He keeps being the reason I get interrupted when I'm trying to talk to Reese. So maybe if I make a little distance, I'll see Reese long enough to finally confess everything.

Feeling less weirded out by Toria's comment, I change into pajamas and snuggle into bed. Inevitably, my mind wanders to Malcolm's comment about my house being a former-brothel.

I wonder how it worked. If men just came by whenever they wanted, or if they had to make appointments. And if they had a "Madame" – an older woman who looked out for the girls and collected most of the profits (so basically a female pimp). Honestly, I don't know if I believe Malcolm, but it does seem like a strange thing to lie about.

Rolling onto my side, I hug my panda bear stuffed animal to my chest and close my eyes.

Lie or not, I bet it would make a really interesting story.

I dream about my house as a brothel and me as a client.

Mr. Herkabe opens the door when I knock. He has on a nice suit, several rings and uses a cane. Very stereotypical pimp – though his suit is black pinstripes and not animal print.

"Welcome, welcome," he says, stepping aside for me to walk past him.

The entry way of my house is different in the dream. Instead of my mom's favorite oriental rug, there's a table in the center of the wood floor. It has dishes with breath mints, hand sanitizer, ear plugs, and – even in my dream heat rushes to my cheeks – condoms. I guess it's a table for the clients.

My dream-self gulps – a table for me.

"Please, allow me to take your coat," Pimp Herkabe says in a smooth voice. In my dream, despite how much I still don't like him, he's kind of attractive for an older guy.

I look down and notice that I have on a long trench coat. Undoing the belt and buttons, I shrug it off into his waiting hands. Beneath the trench coat, I wear a mid-thigh red dress with a sheer midriff. It has cap sleeves and a plunging neckline.

"May I just say," Pimp Herkabe says in a flattering tone, "how beautiful you look tonight, Miss Marney?"

I glance back at him and smile while batting my eyelashes.

Before I can reply, a set of double doors to my right open – doors that don't actually exist in my real, non-brothel house. Pimp Herkabe presses his hand to my lower back as he moves me a few feet back to stand beside the front door.

"A gift," Pimp Herkabe whispers in my ear. I follow his gaze, and my heart stutters.

A shirtless Reese steps out of the double doors. He's followed by tuxedoed Malcolm, and finally a leather jacket wearing Donny.

The three of them line up in front of me and strike poses. Reese lets his arms hang at his side as he looks me straight in the eyes. I nibble my bottom lip, ready to go to him, but Pimp Herkabe directs my attention at the other two: Malcolm tucks his left hand in the pocket of his slacks and gives a small wave with his right before inspecting his nails. And Donny (my heart flips), well Donny crosses his arms and looks elsewhere. But, oh ma,n does Dream Donny look good behaving as if he doesn't care.