I sat down beside him and suddenly had no idea how to begin a goodbye. The Arthur in my dreams studied me for a moment, then set the cat on the rug.
"What's wrong?"
"Arthur," I said, "I started liking you a long time ago."
He didn't look surprised. He simply waited for me to continue.
"I interviewed three times to get into this firm. The first time, I was so nervous I held my portfolio upside down. The second time, I got the structural-design question wrong. When I finally passed on the third try, I was so happy I didn't sleep all night."
By then, even I was laughing.
"And that night in the storm—the medicine was from me, not Evelyn."
Arthur's voice was quiet. "I know."
I stared at him. "How could you possibly know?"
"I just do."
Of course my dream would give me the answer I most
