Never Tell Your Dreams (5 page)

“Damn.” Maggie leaned up against the bar and started
to cry. “Nothing is going right.”

Oh, no. Mitch rubbed his hand down his face. This
was exactly the way their intimate moment had started. He glanced around the
bar. Only a few people had trickled in, taking seats at some of the tables.
Everyone was always curious about the mayor’s business and having a girl cry on
his shoulders might make The Grandberry Chronicles.

“Mitchell, don’t you care?” Maggie pleaded, tears
slowly found their way down her cheek.  

“What?” Mitch cast his eyes downward. He couldn’t
look at her. He didn’t trust himself.

The volume going up on the middle television caught
his attention. He looked up and Tommy had the remote pointed toward it.

“My customers can’t hear over the ruckus going on
over there.” Tommy used the remote as a pointer between the two.

Mitch changed his gaze to Maggie to find her staring
at him. How could she think he didn’t care? All his life his days began and
ended with Maggie Greenlee on the brain. And today was no different—whether it
was welcomed or not.

Every time Maggie came to visit, he dropped
everything in his life just to be pushed away by her with one excuse after
another.

“You aren’t saying anything to help me.” She put her
purse back on the bar and slid gracefully on to the stool. “You’ve changed.”

“No, Maggie.” He looked deep into her eyes.

The sparkle wasn’t dulled by her sadness. He knew
she wasn’t upset about him or their relationship. She was upset about how Hazel
was treating her.

“You’ve changed.” He noticed sadness wash over her
features.

She jerked to her feet, and the stool flung back and
smacked the hardwood floor. As if a firecracker went off, everyone in the bar
turned to see what all the commotion was about.

Mitch slammed the empty mug down just in time for
Tommy to replace it. He’d finally done it. He hurt her.

“Whoa, buddy. You might need to slow down,” Tommy
said with Mitch in mid-gulp. “We don’t want the town mayor to become the town
drunk.”

Mitch knew how much he drank, he wasn’t going to
forget Maggie, but it would dull the pain. Maggie’s stare made him uncomfortable.
He had to stand his ground. After all, his life was finally on the right track.

“What?” A faint thread of hysteria was in her voice.
“I’ve changed?”

Her mouth was wide open, and her mascara had smeared
down her face. Mitch had never talked to her that way, and he did feel some
satisfaction taking up for Grandberry Falls—his town.

“I’ve changed? What do you call all this?” Her hands
moved up and down the outline of his body. She dug her acrylic fingernail deep
into his chest. “You? Mayor? My Granny doesn’t try to hide the fact she doesn’t
want me to get married. And there seems to be some big secret that everyone is
hiding from me.”

Mitch winced. He didn’t remember those nails being
used as a weapon. He did remember how they felt along his back.

“It’s your imagination, Maggie. No one is keeping
anything from you.” He bowed his head and murmured, “Hazel will come around.”

Damn it! He could’ve kicked himself in the butt. It
wasn’t his place to reassure her or keep from hurting her. It was Grady’s job.
Why wasn’t he here to defend her?

With the beer between his hands and his elbows
rested on the bar, using the mirror along the bar wall, Mitch watched Maggie
walk behind him. He turned to see exactly where she had gone.

“She went in the bathroom.” Tommy sat another beer
in front of Mitch. “After all these years, you’re still in love with her.”

“What are you talking about?” Mitch used his
fingernail to carve in the frost on the mug. “I promised Hazel I wouldn’t say a
word. Besides, it’s not my place.”

“Your face says it all, my friend.” There was an
edge of cynicism in Tommy’s voice. “Don’t blame your feelings on the eminent
domain case.”

Tommy couldn’t be further from the truth. Love was a
strong word and how could he love anyone who acted the way Maggie Greenlee was
acting?.

###

There was something this town was hiding and she was
going to get to the bottom of it. Maybe not this weekend, but definitely before
the wedding.

Maggie locked the bathroom door behind her, placed
both hands on either side of the sink and leaned in. It was her cue to dismiss
herself as soon as she heard Bryan Adam’s
Everything I Do
. It was
playing the night she crawled into Mitch’s bed, the night before she left for
college and didn’t look back.

Maggie looked in the mirror, studying herself
disapprovingly. She rubbed the mascara from under her eyes.

“Why, Maggie?” she asked herself. “Why do you have
the need for Mitch to still be in love with you. You are getting married to
Grady.”

She didn’t have to remind herself of this, but it
helped put Hazel’s issues into perspective. Maggie could see Hazel’s point and
she could see Grady’s point. But why wasn’t Grady willing to throw the salt? If
he loved her, he should’ve thrown the salt, and she wouldn’t be in this
bathroom right now crying.

With her chin up and her head held high, Maggie
inhaled and stepped back into the bar.

How long was she in the bathroom? She knew it wasn’t
long, but the Turtle was extremely busy. Then again, it was Saturday night and
the only bar in town. Through the crowd she could see the top of Mitch’s head
and an arm draped around his shoulders. The arm seemed a little too familiar,
like it fit there.

Maggie dragged her eyes up along the arm covered in
sparkly bangles and glass beads. Her eyes narrowed. She’d seen those bracelets
before. As a matter of fact, she bought Belle the exact same bracelets from a
high-end boutique in Manhattan.

And that laugh. Belle.

“Hi, sis.” Belle bent around the bar, her hair flung
into Mitch’s glass. She giggled and pulled the rubber band off her wrist while
gathering her hair into a low pony.  “Oh, sorry. It’s Martini o’clock!”

“Hey, everyone!” Tommy yelled over the crowd and
tried to quiet them with his hands. “Our own Maggie Greenlee is here to
celebrate her upcoming wedding and we need to make a toast to her.”

Maggie blushed. This was what she remembered about
Grandberry Falls. The Thirsty Turtle never disappointed.

“To Maggie!” Belle tipped her glass up with the rest
of the bar and threw back her martini. She pointed and screamed, “Mitchell
Dozier!”

“What?” Maggie put her empty glass down and looked
to see what Belle was fussing over.

“Mitch didn’t drink before he put his mug down.”
Belle laughed all the way to the jukebox.

“What?” Maggie frantically fisted Mitch’s shirt.
“How could you?”

Maggie wasn’t going to let Mitch off that easy. He
knew exactly what that superstition meant. Maggie vividly remembered telling
him at their high school graduation when Hazel made sure everyone took a drink
before they sat down their glass after her toast.

She grabbed her purse. There was no way she was
going to stay there a second longer or she couldn’t be responsible for her
actions. Before she reached the door, she heard Mitch yell after her, but she
wasn’t about to turn around.

“Maggie, come on.” Mitch was close on her heels.
“Hey, you forgave your fiancé.”

Once Maggie made it to the parking lot, she stopped
and flung her head around causing her hair to whip with it. “What did you say?”

She stepped back when Mitch came nose to nose with
her. He’d never been this bold and she didn’t know where it was coming from.

“Really, Maggie?” The moonlight made his features
darker sending chills up Maggie’s arms. “You can’t tell me that big fancy city
college you attended made you stupid.”

She didn’t know this side of him and didn’t like it.

“Can’t you just let me be? Go back to New York and
get married.” His eyes darkened as he held her gaze. “I’m not a toy or a game
for when you come home. We aren’t in high school anymore.”

“You’re right.” Maggie dug out her keys from her
purse and continued. “I won’t bother you ever again. I promise.” She threw the
words at him like stones.

She clicked the button on her key fob to unlock the
car door. She didn’t turn to see if Mitch was still there, she just got into
her car. He was right. She didn’t belong here anymore. Right now all she cared
about was being hit with two bad superstitions in a twelve hour period.

“This can’t be good.” Maggie referred to Tommy’s
toast. Everyone in Grandberry Falls knew that you always take a drink after the
toast before you put it down. She knew Mitch sat his down without taking a
drink on purpose.

She slumped over her steering wheel, her eyes
focused on the lights flickering through the bar windows with Mitch nowhere to
be seen, leaving her with an inexplicable feeling of emptiness.

Chapter 6

Superstition: It’s bad luck to tell your
dreams before breakfast.

When the rooster crowed, Maggie jumped. She’d
forgotten where she was—for just a moment. When she came home last night, Hazel
had already gone to bed and Belle stayed at the Thirsty Turtle doing God-knows-what.

Maggie knocked the quilt off as the coffee aroma
danced around the bedroom. Hazel wasn’t all that quiet. Maggie was sure Hazel was
in the kitchen cooking up a good breakfast for her.

She pulled on her sweats and listened for the
clanking of the cast iron skillet, but there wasn’t a sound. Maybe a little
scuffle here and there, but definitely nothing that sounded like pots and pans.

As soon as she opened the door, Hazel yelled, “I’m
glad you’re up. We are meeting a few folks down at the Fatted Pig for
breakfast. You coming before you leave?”

Maggie scratched her head. Since when did Sunday
morning breakfast consist of the Fatted Pig? Hazel has always made Maggie a big
home-made breakfast before she headed back to New York.

Something wasn’t right. She couldn’t put her finger
on it, but she wasn’t in the mood to fight today.

Maggie didn’t even look to see if Belle was home.
She needed a hot shower and there wasn’t a better shower then the one at Hazel’s.

The pink tile bathroom was a dream when Maggie was a
little girl. Her father told her every princess needed a pink bathroom. When
Maggie was older, she found out the tile was on sale and no matter how much
money Hazel had, she was still cheap.

Maggie turned the built-in heater to medium. The
room would be nice and toasty when she stepped out of the shower. Hoping to
steam off last night’s disaster, Maggie took her time. She had a couple of hours
before she needed to leave. Her plan was to pack her car and leave straight
from the Fatted Pig.

The swoosh of cold air rushed underneath the thin
shower liner.

“Maggie, we will see you there.”

Maggie let the water rush down her face with her
eyes closed. Hazel was acting really weird. Before, Hazel would have never left
without her. Maggie didn’t have it in her to fight. She was ready to get this
breakfast over, and get out of town. She didn’t take the time to enjoy the rest
of her shower. With straight hair, it was easy to pull up, and with a t-shirt,
jeans and flip-flops, she was out the door in no time.

Maggie maneuvered her Volvo C70 through the back
streets. She wanted to stop by the cemetery on her way to breakfast. That was
one thing she made sure she did while in town. Maggie was certain her life
would be different if her parents were still alive.

Whenever she told someone her mother died while
giving Maggie life, she got the same reaction time after time. ‘Awww, poor
baby. I bet it was hard growing up without a mother.’ Even though her dad and Hazel
did all they could to compensate for it, Maggie still felt the loss.

Rock-Fence Cemetery was as old as Grandberry Falls.
Some of the old tombs that had tumbled to the ground were a sad sight for
Maggie. She imagined what it would look like years from now when she would (rarely)
be back in Grandberry Falls. Hazel did what she could to tend to Maggie’s
parent’s graves, but Belle was too busy running the Hair Pin. She couldn’t bear
to have her parent’s tombs all crumbled in the grass.

The two artificial orange Gerber Daisies sat in the
seat next to her. Real flowers never have kept fresh on the drive down from
NYC. Besides, they would die in a couple days and the thought of having
something die on top of what already was dead wasn’t an image Maggie wanted to
live with.

At least these would stay pretty for  awhile. No one
was here this early as she made her way down the cemetery drive. There were
some names she recognized and some she didn’t. She looked at the graves next to
her father. Dozier.

Mitch’s parent’s, too, had passed and Maggie was
there for him as he had been for her. Many nights her father enjoyed spending
time with Mitch’s father in his garage working on cars or anything with a
motor.