Never Tell Your Dreams (6 page)

Maggie tip-toed around through the grass with her
arms out to her sides to keep her balance. She stopped. The daisy smacked her
head.

“You are so stupid.” Maggie bit her lip and planted
her feet firmly on the ground. She took her first step, then her second,
followed by the complete walk to her parent’s stones.

“See.” She brushed the dirt off the tops of their
tombs with a giant smile across her face. “I walked on the graves and nothing
bad is going to happen to me.”

If she was going to debunk the Greenlee family
superstitions, she had better start now.

###

The Fatted Pig was busy. It was a good place to meet
before and after church—and everyone went to church in Grandberry Falls.

She glanced around to see where Hazel and Belle
were, but they were nowhere to be found. Maggie was excited to see the Fatted
Pig had been untouched by all the town’s remodeling. Just looking at the old
tables with the ladder-back chairs around them made her feel warm and fuzzy. She
had many good times here with family and good friends.

She shook her head. She didn’t like the feeling of
longing for her old high school friends. She had no one to blame but herself
for the distance. Deep down she knew she put on an act when she was in town,
but she wanted to show everyone she was going to make something out of this
small town girl and if she had to say so, she wasn’t doing so bad.

She made another trip around the dinner. She didn’t
see them so she took the last spot on the bench in the waiting area. She could
sit and be incognito next to the artificial tree. The dusty leaves hid her very
well. Too well, in fact.

“I can’t believe you went to her shower.”

Maggie recognized that nasally voice. Beth Harrison
would never be able to escape the sound that comes out of her mouth.

Maggie recalled how Beth would say Maggie’s name.
“Maggie Greenlee!” Beth would draw out the “a” in Maggie and the “lee” in
Greenlee and follow it up with a laugh that made you cringe like fingernails on
a chalk board.

It made Maggie’s skin crawl then just like it did
now.

Maggie tilted her head in Beth’s direction as Beth
continued to talk, “Maggie Greenlee can stay in New York City for all I care.
She made it very clear at the class reunion that she wanted nothing to do with
us and this town.”

Maggie huffed and sat back. The high school reunion
was a joke. She didn’t want to come, but Mitch and Wendy had insisted. Of
course she wanted to look great, so she bought the cutest Diane Von Furstenberg
wrap dress and look-a-like Christian Louboutin shoes.

Deep down Maggie wanted to look like she had “made”
it in New York as the greenhorn of the law firm, which really meant she was the
coffee girl, low-woman-on-the-pole, what have you. Truth be told, her credit
cards were maxed out, and she lived in a one room shack in a not-so-desirable
part of the city. A far cry from her big dreams she claimed in all her emails
to everyone at home.

“Oh, yeah.” Susie snorted recalling the event. “Oh
my God, it was so funny when she had a trail of red paint following her every
step out of the bathroom.”

The toilet had overflowed and Maggie had no idea the
bottom of her fake Louboutin’s were painted red with washable paint instead of dyed
red. So when she stepped in the toilet water and walked, red stains were left
on the high-school gym floor.

And when Beth pointed and told the entire class reunion
Maggie’s shoes were fake. Maggie wanted to die. Little did anyone know, Beth
was an avid “in the closet” fashion magazine connoisseur and knew the ins and
outs of all things chic, especially Louboutins.

Maggie didn’t want to think about that, she had
become a great lawyer and was getting married in three weeks to one great guy.
She had proven them all wrong. She pulled back so the leaves would cover almost
all of her face. She tilted her head slightly to listen in. Idle gossip in
Grandberry Falls was also something she didn’t miss.

“I heard she was a total snob.” Beth continued to
bash Maggie.

Beth laughed. “And when Belle gave her the
bride-to-be sash, I thought Maggie was going to die.” Snorts and giggles made
it around the group of friends.

Maggie closed her eyes. She didn’t want to hear all
of this. They were jealous that she got out of this two-bit town.

“If it weren’t for Mitch, I wouldn’t have gone to
her shower.” Maggie’s eyes narrowed. She glared as Susie Benton talked and tossed
her waves over her shoulder and emphasized her point. “You’re lucky, Wendy. I’m
glad Maggie moved. That way Mitch found his true love.”

Maggie’s eyes went back and forth between the three
friends searching for some type of clue to who they were talking about.

“Oh, now. Mitch really likes Maggie. I admire her
for packing up and moving away.” Thank, God for Wendy. Maggie knew she could
count on her. The voice of reason was one characteristic Maggie didn’t admire
in Wendy as they were growing up, but it was coming in handy today. “Mitch said
she didn’t even take any of the family fortune. You know you wouldn’t be able
to do it on your own. Especially after today. The Greenlee’s are going to be
one wealthy family whether they want to be or not.”

What the hell is she talking about? Maggie couldn’t
recall Hazel telling her anything significant about today. Not only was Hazel acting
strange, but so was the entire town.

“I did have a dream that Maggie Greenlee was left at
the altar.” A hush grew over the group and Beth added, “Oh, well we can’t worry
about her. I hope they seat us soon. I haven’t had breakfast.”

Maggie pulled herself back around the tree. Her
hands crossed in front of her heart. She wished she hadn’t eavesdropped. Her
gasp sounded like a dead cow.

Hazel popped into her head. It was like sparks flew
from her eyes, “Maggie Greenlee, don’t you ever, under any circumstances tell
your dreams before you eat breakfast.”

In her little girl voice, Maggie had asked, “Why,
Granny?”

Hazel bent down, a shadow cast over Maggie and
chills found their way all over her body. “You never want your dreams to come
true, no matter how great they are.”

Maggie jerked away from the tree, and before she
could grab it, the tree fell to the ground leaving a plume of dust in the air
around the bench and tree.

“I’m sorry.” Maggie profusely apologized to all the
patrons that were waiting for a table when she bent down to pick up the tree.

“Maggie?” Maggie squeezed her eyes tight, wishing
that hand wasn’t on her back, but the voice proved otherwise. “Let me help
you.”

With a sigh and a small grunt, Maggie sat the tree
exactly where it had been before she used it as camouflage.

Wendy Owens was there, with her entourage backing
her up.

“Wendy!” Thank, God she had put on her Juicy sweat
suit and not some scroungy sweats. Maggie threw her shoulders back to create a
taller illusion to her frame. Plus it made her feel more confident. “Hi, girls.
Didn’t we have so much fun at the shower?”

Wendy and Susie waved their hands in the air to
clear all the dust. Beth covered her nose and glared at Maggie.

“I loved the sash. As a matter of fact, I think I’ll
put it on.” Maggie reached in her purse and pulled out the wrinkled sash.
“Beth, I’m sorry you couldn’t make it. We sure did miss you.”

“It was great seeing you. Talk to you soon.” Wendy
herded the group and waved over her shoulder as they made their way to their
table.

“Hi, girls!” Belle trotted over from the interior of
the restaurant. Where the hell did she come from? Maggie looked beyond Belle’s
shoulder. “There you are. We’ve been waiting. Come on, we are in a hurry.”

Maggie glanced around the room. Was it her or was
everyone staring at them? She wasn’t sure what to make out of all the crazy
nonsense. She chalked it up to a town gone mad. She was happy to see that the
Fatted Pig hadn’t changed.

“Be nice to Mitch and don’t embarrass him in front
of ‘the girlfriend.’” Belle made those stupid quotes with her fingers sounding
just like their father.

Girlfriend? The words stung her ears. She might not
have “those” feelings for Mitch Dozier, but she never expected him to have a
girlfriend and had had no clue about it.

She looked at his table. There was nothing unusual.
The gang sat there like they did every Sunday. Tommy, Susie, Beth, Mitch, and
Wendy.

“Wendy?” Maggie whispered in disbelief when Wendy
reached over and kissed Mitch on the cheek.

Chapter 7

Life is like a game of cards. The hand
you are dealt is determinism; the way you play it is free will. ~ Jawaharlal
Nehru

Mitch caught Maggie’s eye when she walked through
the restaurant. He wished she didn’t look so damn good. He loved how her sweat
suit hugged her curves. The older she got, the better her body. And the color—The
old Maggie never would’ve worn pink. She made it a point to shy away from any
shade of the color.

Mitch took a deep breath trying to free up the
tightness in his chest. Deep breathing never worked when Maggie was around, but
he tried anyway. The pink made her hair look blacker and her skin more olive.
She wasn’t fooling anybody. Her pure soul shone through those dark, mysterious
eyes. There was no hiding the real Maggie. He could see right through her
attempt to be someone she wasn’t.

He sat up a little straighter when Maggie walked by.
Wendy reached over and touched his hand. She smiled and patted him. He focused
on her hand. Wendy Owens was a catch any single man in town would love to get.

Wendy was beautiful without trying. She was always
up for anything—was one of the
guys
. He didn’t have to wait on her to put
on makeup like the other girls in town, or fix her hair. Today she had jumped
into his truck and quickly put her silky blonde hair on all sorts of crazy
criss-crosses that wrapped around her head in two rows leaving a few wispies
flying in the wind from the open window.

Not that he didn’t like being Maggie’s experiment.
He worshipped her. He went along with whatever she suggested. He could still
hear her tender words the night before she left for college.

“What if we give up our opportunity, Mitchell?” Make
love to me. Give me a reason to visit.”

He recalled how easy it was to get lost in the way
she looked at him. He lost all control. From years of desire, he took his time
and gave Maggie everything she begged for. Everything he ever dreamed up came
true that night. Mitch begged her to stay, he gave all of himself to her on the
promise she’d be back.

Hopeful, he watched Maggie climb out his bedroom
window. The next day he went to the cemetery early. Maggie was there and Mitch
hid in the bushes. That’s when he knew she’d never leave town without telling
her parents goodbye.

“Let’s go.” Mitch grabbed Wendy’s hand. He whispered
in her ear, “I need you.”

“Mitchell!” Hazel Greenlee profusely waved her hands
in the air, at least twenty bracelets jingled around her small wrist. He waved
over to the Greenlee’s and Liz Day.

Against his better judgment, he knew he better go
over and say hello. It would be quick. He was on a mission that didn’t include
the Greenlee’s.

Mitch’s finger tingled where Wendy squeezed his hand
too tight. It was her secret way of telling him to cut it short so he could
make good on his promise he had whispered moments ago. As Mayor, he was always
stopped by someone wherever they went.

“Mornin’ ladies.” Mitch made sure to give everyone
eye contact, but lingered a little too long on Maggie.

Wendy tugged Mitch’s arm. Her signal for him to cut
it short. “Belle, it was a lovely shower yesterday. I had a wonderful time.”

“Why thank you.” Belle flipped her hair behind her
ear, sat up a little taller, and reached over grabbing Maggie’s hand. “Anything
for our little bride.”

Mitch noticed Maggie didn’t look up. She continued
to fiddle with her engagement ring that was nauseatingly big. Nothing he’d be
able to afford—especially on the Mayor’s salary.

“Liz, you must come over to Mitchell’s and give him
some decorating tips.” Oh boy, Mitch had to get Wendy out of there fast. “I can
only do so much and then it’s too feminine for him. We love the office couch.”

There was no way Mitch was going to let some fancy
interior designer wreck havoc on his farm house. He loved the wood burning
stove. The large wood beams hung from the ceiling, and the wood chips trickled
all over the floor where he had carried the wood in.

He wasn’t going to speak up. Wendy was proving a
point and he wasn’t going to stop her—yet.

“Anytime. Just give me a call.” Liz Day handed Wendy
a business card. Liz and her son, Hayes, had moved to Grandberry a few months
ago to start a new life.

Grandberry Falls embraced their only interior
decorator, who was much needed to help restore the beautiful historic downtown
and old homes that made Grandberry Falls a very desirable place to live in the
south.