Only When I Dream Read online

  Some people were born teachers. Some were drawn by the idea summers off. Some wanted to coach but had to teach in order to do so. The thought of being chained to a classroom all day for nine months of the year was a depressing thought for Jett.

  His heart was with journalism and had been since his experience with his high school paper. True, his father was less than thrilled with his career choice. He wanted Jett to go to law school and build a good name for him. His mom on the other hand just wanted him to be happy.

  She knew that when Bobby got out of the army he would be satisfied with a job until a better one came along. Eventually he would find a job – or pay – that would do for him to stick with.

  Her youngest son wasn’t that way. He was methodical in everything he approached. He didn’t shy away from hard work – neither of her boys did and she was always quick to point that out. It would take more than a job to make Jett happy. He wanted a career — one of his own choosing.

  At any rate, Jett double majored in journalism and political science and while he received a wonderful education in the classroom, the bulk of his learning was practical experience courtesy of one Lucas “Bud” Rivers.

  Bud bought the Crystal Springs News-Democrat and took over as editor and publisher in 1979. The local weekly paper, the News-Democrat traced its roots back to 1885 when the Fuson County Democrat merged with the Crystal Springs News.

  A native of nearby Whitley County, Bud spent 20 years bouncing from one newspaper to the next in Southeastern Kentucky and East Tennessee. Towns like Harlan, Middlesboro, Tazewell, Clinton, Williamsburg, and Somerset dotted his resume.

  Tired of the increasing number of corporately owned newspapers and wanting to come home, Bud used his savings and borrowed the balance of the money to buy the News-Democrat. He never got rich but lived comfortably and happily – or at least three ex-wives did. Bud was at his happiest when he was at work. He was well liked and respected in the community – with the possible exception of his three ex-wives. He had many friends and over the years the paper was partially staffed by the children or relatives of those friends. Sometimes he found a competent employee that stayed on. More often than not there was a high turnover on the staff. And there were those times that he found a kindred spirit with whom he gladly shared his wealth of experience.

  Jett was one such person. Bud was more than a mentor and employer, he was the second father Jett didn’t need but always wanted. He was also Rose’s uncle – her mom’s younger brother.

  Bud hired Jett to gather court records and write small pieces before his niece started dating the big kid from Bell County. Jett was unaware that Bud could possibly be related to his beloved Rose.

  When Bud found out the two of them were dating he was thrilled. If nothing else it gave him an opportunity to see his favorite niece a little more often.

  Jett could still see Bud sitting at his desk over a manual typewriter with documents ranging from indictments to property transfers scattered everywhere while a cassette tape deck blared rock and roll from the early 1960s. His tie loosened with sleeves rolled up, his silver hair askew, and the ever-present wad of chewing tobacco protruding from his jaw – a man deep in thought.

  Before he knew it, Jett was at the Crystal Springs exit and turning onto Ky. Hwy. 92 west. In a matter of minutes he was pulling into the Rivers Family Cemetery.

  Jett took the dozen red roses from the front seat and walked roughly 25 yards to the plot nearest a cedar tree in the center of the graveyard. His heart grew heavier with each step. Instead of becoming easier, these visits were growing more difficult. By the time his eyes found the resting place of his late wife they were filled with bitter tears. Jett knelt near the headstone and placed the roses near the base, careful not to disturb the other two-dozen fresh roses on the grave.

  He placed his left hand on the tombstone. The gray overcast sky and cool late winter north wind reflected his mood. Jett sobbed for a few minutes as his left hand gently rubbed the name carved in stone.

  “I love you more today than I ever have. I miss you so much Rosie,” he whispered hoarsely.

  Looking to the roses, he continued.

  “Looks like the boys have already been here. You would be so proud of them baby. They’ve grown up to be good men. Thank God they take after you and not their old man. They got your looks and personality...I think the only thing they got from me is a stubborn streak and a temper, but they’re doing fine,” he sniffed, wiping away the tears. “Oh, I know they’ve made mistakes and they’ll make more before it’s all said and done. But you did such a good job with them...I can’t imagine anybody missing you as much as I do but I reckon they do – none of us got as much time with you as we wanted,” Jett paused to wipe away more tears.

  “Anyway honey, I’ve made a decision. I think it’s time to for me to come home. I want to be closer to the boys. I miss them and besides, the house in Lexington hasn’t felt like home since...well, a long, long time,” he said.

  Taking a breath, he patted the tombstone. “Besides, I want to be closer to you – maybe spend some more time out here taking care of things. I just feel like something is drawing me here. Don’t worry love, I’m not going crazy – no matter how many times you told me I was,” he chuckled softly. “I know you’re not really here but it makes me feel better to think that maybe somehow you can hear me in Heaven. I really hope so. Please know that you’ll always be my girl and my heart will forever be yours. I miss you more every day. I promised the boys that I’d have supper with them. I’m guessing the food in the cafe isn’t any better than it was when we were there. I thought I might go by and check on Bud – see if maybe I can get him to join us...the only one missing is you,” his voice cracked.

  As he attempted to gather his composure the wind gusted.

  “I love you, forever and always,” a sweet, familiar voice echoed in his head.

  Jett immediately spun around looking for the source of the words. He carefully scanned his surroundings. The cemetery was empty.

  The wind in the trees coupled with his imagination was playing a cruel trick on him. A chime on a nearby grave jingled giving him a start as he wheeled again, embarrassed at his own jumpiness.

  His imagination running wild again, Jett thought. But that voice...so real and so near. He realized his heart was racing and his body was covered in sheen of cold sweat. Jett took a deep breath. What bothered him even more was another realization: He was smiling.

  “Maybe I was wrong honey. Maybe I am going crazy,” he said almost breathlessly as he continued to look around.

  Located at 1776 Main Street the office of the Crystal Springs News-Democrat was an old fashioned two story brick structure that took up more than a quarter of the block across the street from the west side of the courthouse. Though the old press had been replaced by a more modern one 20 years before, the building still strongly reeked of the pungent odor of printer’s ink.

  A counter still greeted visitors that stepped inside the newspaper office. Behind that counter sat a beautiful brunette with striking green eyes and great figure. Jett guessed her age to be about mid to late twenties. The nameplate read Mallorie Afton.

  “May I help you?” The young lady asked with an almost too white smile.

  “Is Bud in?” Jett asked.

  “I believe he is. Hold on and let me check,” she said as she stepped down the hall. Mallorie knocked on the first door on the left.

  “You have a visitor,” she said. Jett heard her say quietly, “I don’t know him.”

  The sound of a creaking desk chair could be heard all the way to the front door.

  Jett heard Bud clear his throat as he approached the office door. When the older man stepped into the hall his look of curiosity was replaced was replaced of sheer delight.

  “Jett! Why didn’t you tell me you were coming down?” Bud asked as walked with his right hand extended. As Jett shook his hand, Bud reached and covered both hands with his left.

  “So good to
see you boy,” he said.

  “How’s it going Bud?” Jett asked.

  “Crazy as ever. Oh, I’m sorry. Jett, this is Mallorie Afton – our new receptionist,” Bud said. “Mallorie, this is Jett Bradley, the best damn journalist I’ve ever known.”

  “I’ve heard stories about you,” she said as she shook his hand.

  “I’m sure you have. Does Bud still drink?” Jett asked with a grin.

  “Not before breakfast anymore. Come on back to the office and have a seat,” Bud said as he placed his hand on the taller man’s shoulder.

  As they walked into the office it looked pretty much the way it did when Jett first stepped inside of it in 1984. The big difference being the old manual typewriter was replaced by a Macintosh computer and the stereo was no longer a tape deck. A CD player now blared out ancient rock and roll. Papers were still scattered about and looked like organized chaos.

  As Bud reached for the remote to turn the stereo volume down it gave Jett an opportunity to study his mentor. For the most part, the years had been kind to Bud. His once gray-streaked hair was now white and thinner but still wavy. Bud was actually about 20 pounds lighter these days due largely to being diagnosed as diabetic two years before. He also didn’t drink as much as he once did but reveled in his reputation as a man legendary for his love of alcohol.

  Wire-framed bifocals had long since replaced the reading glasses Bud once used.

  “So what happened to Edna?” Jett asked.

  “She retired about a month ago. Joe’s Alzheimer’s is getting progressively worse and she needs to be with him. Besides, 32 years is enough for anyone in the same job,” Bud said.

  “And how did you find Mallorie?” Jett asked.

  “She walked in and put in an application. She needed a job and I needed an employee,” Bud said.

  “You always had a good eye,” Jett said.

  Bud grinned.

  “She is easy on the eyes. Mallorie’s actually very good and extremely intelligent. Don’t sell her short. She came with glowing references from a regional insurance office in Richmond,” Bud said.

  “As long as you’re happy,” Jett said.

  “You come in to see the boys?” Bud asked as he pulled a wad of tobacco from a pouch.

  “That’s part of it. I came to visit Rose today,” Jett said.

  Bud quickly looked at the calendar and the remorse registered immediately.

  “How could I forget what today is? I’m so sorry,” Bud said.

  Jett just waved his hand dismissively.

  “You visit out there all the time. You don’t need to feel guilty,” Jett said.

  “I can’t help it. She was the closest thing to a daughter I’ll ever have,” Bud said as he took off his glasses. His eyes were red and welled with tears.

  Jett waited a few seconds before he spoke again.

  “Listen, the main reason for me coming by here was to invite you to supper with me and the boys tonight. Figured we might drop by The Blue Lancer. The boys would probably prefer a pizza from the R & R but a nice meal wouldn’t hurt either one of them,” Jett said.

  “Heh. You’re one to talk. I remember when you were their age. You ate from the three basic food groups of pizza, cheeseburgers, and ice cream,” Bud said.

  “I outgrew that, along with several pairs of pants and now I can’t do that anymore. So whaddya say? Boys night out?” Jett asked.

  “Sounds good,” Bud said, “What time?”

  “Wanna meet us over there about seven?” Jett asked as a familiar face appeared in the door.

  “Jett! How’re you doing?” Asked Ed Kelly, who had been ad manager for almost as long as Bud had owned the paper.

  “I’m fine Ed. How’re you?” Jett asked as he noticed Ed’s formerly gray hair was now dark brown.

  “Doing well sir, but not as much as a hotshot columnist from the big city,” he answered with a toothy grin.

  The teeth were new too as were the contacts, Jett noticed. The dark brown pants, tan short-sleeved shirt, and bright red suspenders, not so new.

  “Looks like you’re doing pretty good from here,” he said to the ad man.

  Ed stepped on inside the office and spoke more softly. “Can the old man pick’em or not?” He asked gesturing to the front desk. “You know,” Ed continued with a slight giggle, “when the new girl turns to her left when she’s at the desk, you can see right down her dress.”

  Jett turned to Bud with a mixed look of amusement and disbelief.

  “Yes, that old horn dog completed sexual harassment training,” Bud said.

  “I learned well,” Ed said with an even bigger grin.

  “Good to see that some things never change,” Jett said.

  Bud noticed the wooden box Ed carried in his left hand.

  “What’s that?” He asked pointing to the box.

  “These,” Ed said as he opened the box, “are Chinese chimes. A gift from Mr. Lee over at the Red Dragon.”

  Looking at the matching blue orbs, Jett said, “Still like the Chinese food too, I see.”

  “Mr. Lee is still one of my best accounts after all these years,” Ed said with no small amount of pride.

  “Well why don’t you impress me and get a few more like Mr. Lee,” Bud said as his walked toward the door. “I need to talk to Jett – alone.”

  “Don’t have to hit me with a shovel,” Ed said.

  “There’s a thought,” Bud said.

  “Good seeing you Jett,” Ed said he retreated. “You too,” Jett barely got out before Bud closed the door.

  Bud grabbed a Styrofoam cup, shoved a paper towel into it, and returned to his desk chair.

  “You happy in Lexington?” Bud asked.

  “Happy is a relative term,” Jett answered.

  “It’s also the nickname of a former governor. At the paper I mean. Are you happy there?” Bud asked.

  “It’s going well. Since I became a columnist full time I feel like I’ve semi-retired. Management doesn’t bother me too much. It could be worse,” Jett said.

  Bud sat quietly going over the answer.

  “Yeah, I imagine it could be. But I’m not going to beat around the bush Jett. I’m not getting old – hell, I am old. And as much as I still have ink in my veins, I can’t keep going as publisher and editor. Doc says I have to cut back – the stress is messing with my blood pressure – and not in a good way,” Bud said.

  Jett was both surprised and concerned.

  “Then for crying out loud, cut back,” he said.

  “Don’t worry, I’m going to. I still have one ex-wife to outlive. But I’d feel a lot better – and more relaxed – if I turned over the editor’s job to somebody I can trust. Somebody that truly appreciates this paper and what it means to the community. Think you might be interested in the job?” Bud asked as looked directly into Jett’s eyes as if to get a true reading of his response.

  Jett smiled. Bud had no idea why he wanted to have supper with his sons.

  “This is kind of sudden Bud. Can I think about it?” He asked.

  “You can. But don’t take too long. The doc is riding my ass like a rented mule to cut back ASAP,” Bud said.

  “I’ll give you an answer tonight. How’s that?” Jett asked as he stood up.

  “Fair enough,” Bud said as he walked his protégé to the office door, opening it just in time to see Ed charging toward the front desk with the wooden box open.

  Both men heard Ed’s voice echo down the hall.

  “Hey Mallorie, wanna rub my balls?”

  “Shit,” Bud muttered as Jett laughed.

  “In my office now Ed!” Bud yelled.

  “See you at seven,” Jett said.

  ***

  It was May and the 1985 spring semester was winding down. Between increasing work at the News-Democrat, farm work, and football, the onset of summer break promised to be anything but for Jett.

  He and Rose had been dating since March and the relationship was going great. His parents adored
her and her parents not only didn’t hate him, they seemed to accept him as did her older sister Violet, who was getting ready to start her senior year at KSU.

  He knew how he felt about her and believed he knew how she felt about him but as strange as it might seem, there was something unspoken between them. Jett met Rose outside of the Baker Education Building. It was Thursday afternoon and she was leaving her last class of the day. The sky was clear and blue and the spring sun pushed the thermometer over 80 degrees.

  “This is a nice surprise,” she said with a warm smile. “Come to walk me back to the dorm?”

  “Something like that. Are you in a hurry?” He asked.

  “No. I don’t have any homework if that’s what you mean. Is something wrong?” She asked.

  “No, not at all. I was just wondering if you felt like finding a quiet place where we could talk,” Jett said.

  Her look shifted to one of concern.

  “Yeah, we can do that,” she said.

  As they walked in silence, he tried to piece together in his mind exactly what he needed to say to her. Rose looked at him as they walked, her own expression showing more and more worry. Spying an empty bench under an oak tree near the McHenry Music Building, she pointed to it.

  “How about over there? It’ll give us some privacy and shade,” Rose said, anxious to hear what he wanted to talk about. “That should be fine,” Jett said as he fought to control his nerves.

  He could see her troubled expression as sat down. Jett took a deep breath.

  “What’s wrong?” Rose asked.

  “I’ve never done anything like this before and I’m afraid I’m not very good at it,” he said.

  Braced for bad news, she felt her heart sink in spite of her best efforts.

  “There’s something I have to tell you and to tell you the truth, it scares me to death. But I’m afraid not to say it because it’s eating me up inside,” Jett said.

  “Please, just say whatever it is you need to say,” Rose said.

  “I don’t really know where to start...I would never do anything to hurt you or make you feel uncomfortable. I’ve never told you this and maybe I should have before now...I know I should have. The first time I saw you my heart skipped a beat. And every time since then, even now, it still does,” he said as her face brightened a little. He took another deep breath. “You’re the first thought on my mind every morning and the last on my mind every night. I’ve never felt like this in my life,” Jett said. Rose’s smile began to grow as her eyes began to well up.