I took the bottle and poured some into my hand. “Ummm. This smells great.” I handed the lotion back to her and wished I could think of something to say that would comfort her. She looked both fragile and woebegone in an oversized blue T-shirt emblazoned with the Olympic torch and the words “Atlanta, 1996.”

“Would it help,” I asked, “if I said he’s an asshole?”

“Sure it would.” Haley reached over, kissed me, and then crawled into her bed. “Aunt Sister can think of a lot better names, though.”

“Aunt Sister’s had a lot more practice using them.”

Haley laughed and opened the latest John Grisham; I settled down with an Elmore Leonard, an old one I had never read and had found, like a present, in a used paperback store.

The elevator opened down the hall.

“Think that’s Fay-uh-chile?” Haley asked.

“Probably. Millicent’s sure done a turnaround, hasn’t she?”

“I don’t see how she’s managing this place and doing the real estate thing, too.”

I yawned. “The condo association board is responsible for the big decisions. And most of the units are owned by permanent residents. Millicent’s been manager so long, things run like clockwork.” I yawned again. “And I think she’d miss knowing all that’s going on here. Besides, Fairchild’s here in case of an emergency.”

“I’d like to see that new development on the bay that she’s involved in.”

I yawned again and rubbed my eyes. Elmore’s words were getting fuzzy. “We’ll see it. You can bet on that if your Aunt Sister’s new boyfriend is interested in it.” I put the book on the nightstand and turned out my light. “Don’t let the bedbugs bite, sweetheart.”

“You too, Mama. ’Night.”

The sheets were cool and crisp; the air conditioner made a slight humming noise. My sweet Fred over there in Atlanta. Sleep tight, darling.

Fred and I are at the World Trade Center.

“Get in the elevator,” he says.

“Are you crazy?” says a woman’s voice behind me. “It’s not my fault!”

“Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!”

But it’s not Fred. It’s a man I’ve never seen before. His face is contorted with anger. “Where’s Fred?” I ask him, grabbing his arm.

“You stupid bitch! Get in the goddamned elevator!”

The elevator closes and I wake with a start, my heart pounding. In a moment I remember where I am, and by the light filtering around our blinds, I can see that Haley is sleeping soundly. I get up, tiptoe out, and go into the kitchen for a glass of milk.

Damn! What a vivid dream!