Impossible Dreams

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Impossible Dreams Page 12

by Patricia Rice


  She ought to be at school, drawing up lesson plans for summer sessions and their first full-time program. They had several teachers already lined up, and Maya prayed Cleo would be home in time to take over the store by then. The after-school program worked out nicely for now, in these last months of her pregnancy, but she would be eager to return to the challenge of full-time teaching once the baby was born.

  The rain poured down outside. After living these past few years in southern California, she wasn’t used to rain. The novelty had worn off in this last day or two of wading through rivers of mud. She wondered if Noah had finished his ark yet.

  Or if Axell had recovered from his snit. She’d thought he’d been coming around yesterday until Headley had arrived. He’d even managed a smile or two. She didn’t know why it mattered if she dragged a smile or two out of a stuffed turkey like Axell Holm. But he looked at Constance with such pain and suffering and obvious love that her heart went out to him anyway.

  She had no business offering her heart to anyone but Matty and the infant in her womb. Arching her aching back, Maya wondered if she’d been working too hard as Axell had declared. The baby wasn’t moving much today. It was due in two weeks, and she still didn’t have a crib.

  She needed the CD player she’d left for the movers to connect. A good rousing song would lift her spirits. Or a chant, to soothe her nerves. Maybe she should brave the weather and go see Axell. Planning the grand opening had to be more entertaining than polishing gnomes.

  But Axell had barely spoken to her last night when he’d arrived to pick up a sleepy Constance. And she didn’t have an umbrella or the energy to walk even the few yards over to the restaurant in this downpour. She was restless and jumpy and not much in the mood to deal with her “silent” partner.

  Selene had promised to get to the bottom of the drug-possession scam and to stave off the gossip as much as possible, since it affected the school as well as Axell. She just couldn’t promise to do more than that. Her influence was more social than political, although she’d promised to give some thought in that arena, too. Maybe Selene could finance Axell’s campaign for mayor...

  The door chimes rang, and Maya looked up eagerly at this new distraction. A stranger in a dripping raincoat closed his umbrella and looked around. Nobody good ever wore raincoats. Maybe he’d come to repossess Cleo’s counter. She didn’t think there was much else left of any value.

  Wincing at the ache in her back as she stood up, Maya greeted the new arrival. “May I help you?”

  The man removed his hat to reveal a balding head and a reasonably jovial expression. “Miss Alyssum? I’m Fred Carpenter, the building inspector.”

  Maya hid a bolt of anxiety behind a vague smile. “A carpenter to inspect buildings! How lovely. What do you inspect them for? To see if they’re buildings?”

  He looked a little startled. “For safety, mostly. After the collapse of the facade down the street, the mayor wants to prevent what could be a tragedy next time.”

  “You’re quite right, of course,” she agreed with a modicum of relief. Inspections were a good thing. She was turning paranoid. “I was so upset at almost losing everything I owned, I didn’t even think of what could have happened. By all means, inspect away. Would you like some tea?”

  “Oh, you were the tenant in the old Shafer building? Shame, that.” He shook his head at her offer of tea and wandered to inspect the freshly painted plaster walls. “Most of these old buildings have no insulation and weren’t meant for modern heating and air-conditioning. The constant expanding and contracting of the joints from heated interiors and cold weather, or vice versa, puts a tension on the materials used back then.”

  Maya didn’t like the sound of that, but in her experience, authority figures always put a bad light on things. Rifling through a box of bumper stickers she’d found in Cleo’s storeroom, she giggled over one reading Wear short sleeves, support your right to bare arms! and tried to pretend the man didn’t exist.

  The inspector turned to look at her as if she were crazed, so she held the sticker up for his inspection. He harrumphed and looked a little less jovial. “I’ll need to take a look at the wiring. Is the circuit box in the back?”

  Maya shrugged helplessly. “If that’s where they put those things. I’m sure Axell will have kept it up-to-date. If it were up to me, the wires would have crumbled into dust.”

  He gave her a look of disbelief and wandered into the back. Slumping back in her chair, Maya sipped her tea. She was trying to keep an upbeat face on things, but she knew better than to expect anything good of people in authority. Still, she couldn’t imagine Axell letting his property deteriorate.

  Biting her bottom lip, she carefully arranged the bumper stickers by category. Some of them were really pretty funny. Maybe she could get one of those turning kiosks to display them...

  She didn’t have any money, which was precisely why Cleo hadn’t put them out.

  Why didn’t she just give this up and go put her time in at the school? At least that had half a chance of becoming a profitable venture, and it was something she was good at. She knew absolutely nothing about the retail business.

  If she moved in at the school, she wouldn’t have to worry about transportation all the time. The school bus would pick Matty up and drop him off, and she would be at home and at work at the same time. She really should have asked Axell to invest in the school instead of this dead-end proposition.

  But Cleo would need the shop when she got home. And the school might be a dead end if the authorities had their way. If Axell invested in the school, she really couldn’t be certain he would approve of her dreams for it, and she didn’t want any domineering man interfering. She really needed to get in touch with reality. It kept slapping her in the face, after all.

  She had all the stickers organized in neat little stacks by the time the inspector returned. She’d taped one proclaiming Beauty is in the eye of the beer holder to the wall above her head, but the inspector didn’t seem to see the humor.

  “I’m sorry, Miss Alyssum,” he proceeded, scribbling notes in his notebook, “but I’m afraid my report will recommend the building be closed until major structural repairs are made. We simply can’t take any chances where human life is concerned.”

  What about her life? And Matty’s? And Cleo’s? Weren’t they human?

  Probably not. They were just cogs in the wheel. Sighing, she handed him a sticker reading Ever stop to think, and forget to start again?

  Startled, he took one look at her face, hastily tucked the sticker into his clipboard, grabbed his hat and umbrella, and hurried out the door into the pouring rain.

  Maybe he thought she’d go berserk on him. Maybe she would have.

  Watching the cleaning crew industriously arranging the inventory inside the glass counter and on the shelves Axell had built, Maya fought for calm. No building, no store. No apartment, no home. No car. No money. No Matty.

  Fighting the panic that always lived within her, Maya gripped the table hard and forced herself to think. She had fair warning this time. She could get her things out. The school would be uncomfortable for a little while, but she could live with uncomfortable. She couldn’t live without Matty.

  Covering her abdomen with her hand, Maya sent up an impassioned prayer. She couldn’t live without this child either. She had to have a home for it.

  Panic and tears threatened her control. Choking on them, she grabbed the telephone and dialed Selene’s number.

  She could do this. She was an adult with responsibility. She wouldn’t let the world come crashing down around Matty’s head again. Never ever again.

  ***

  December, 1945

  When you stayed away that week, I thought I’d die. I stayed sober, waiting. I had the bartender throw Pete out and fired the damned piano player. Maloney used to make me laugh but I stubbed my cigarette out on his hand when he tried to pull the stupid coin trick again. He was funnier when I was drunk. You ruined me — in m
ore ways than one.

  When you didn’t show Saturday night, I got drunk again. I was still half-soused when I got up the next morning. I’m not making excuses. I’m just telling you why I went to church that morning. Probably the only day all week I almost laughed, when I walked in that door wearing my best red dress and saw all those jaws drop.

  You were sitting beside her — Miss Butter-Wouldn’t-Melt-In-Her-Mouth. Damn you.

  Thirteen

  What happens if you get scared half to death twice?

  Tapping his pen against his desk, Axell stared out his office window at the downpour. He’d lived here all his life. He knew the vagaries of North Carolina weather and road conditions. Angela had lost her life on a day like this one, and she’d been driving one of the larger highways and not one of the flood-prone ones. He’d better call Constance’s baby-sitter and arrange to have her take care of Constance at the house after school. The road from here out to the house might not be safe later today.

  He punched in the buttons, made the arrangements, and one more task taken care of, he contemplated the next. Maya hadn’t come over to discuss the store opening. He couldn’t blame her for not going out in this weather, but she could have called. He assumed she knew how to work a telephone.

  He hoped that old building didn’t leak. The previous tenants hadn’t complained of it, but they hadn’t lived upstairs either. Maybe he should check on her. Business was slow this time of the afternoon, especially in rain like this.

  He was making excuses. He knew he was making excuses.

  He didn’t care. He couldn’t focus on anything anyway. It wouldn’t hurt to stop next door and see what progress had been made. Matty would be arriving home from kindergarten soon. Maya might need a ride out to the school.

  Axell wrinkled his brow at that thought. The road out to the school crossed a creek that rose quickly. With urgent purpose, he took the steps two at a time.

  Soaked instantly, he ran the few yards to the back of the shop. He should have warned her to keep the door locked, he realized, as he reached for his key at the same time as the knob turned beneath his hand. The increase in drug activity lately had led to a string of break-ins.

  He shouldn’t have to tell a grown woman to keep her doors locked.

  Fighting irritation as well as concern, Axell stalked through the unlit storage room. It wasn’t as if Maya had anything to store back here, so he didn’t expect a flurry of activity until he reached the front, but the place seemed ominously silent without chanting monks or rushing ocean tides.

  Not until he reached the echoing emptiness of the front room did he realize something was wrong. There should be cleaning people bustling around, opening all these boxes, stacking ugly gnomes on shelves and arranging kaleidoscopes on the counter. Maya should be sitting at that empty table, sipping tea...

  Axell glared at the empty water carafe and hot plate beside the neat stacks of bumper stickers. All those who believe in psychokinesis, raise my hand. He snorted and almost grinned, reached for another, then caught himself. Maya wasn’t here. Neither was anyone else, including Matty or the teenage clerk. Maya’s teacups and pot were gone. Something was wrong.

  He checked the front door. Locked. Well, at least she had that much sense.

  Glancing around, Axell sought some clue for this lack of industry, but his heart was already racing. Maya was a hundred years pregnant. Angela had lost their son on a day like this.

  He grabbed the phone and punched in the number for the school. He got an out-of-order message. Nothing new. Damned telephone company couldn’t keep the lines up in this weather. He called Selene. They’d argued so much over the partnership contract, he had her number memorized. He almost gasped in relief when she actually answered.

  “Have you seen Maya?” he demanded, without preamble.

  “She’s out at the school, measuring that dump upstairs for curtains,” Selene snapped. “What the devil did you think you were doing, moving her into a place the city is condemning? That poor girl had her hopes up so high...”

  “What do you mean, condemning? This building is as solid...” Axell sputtered to a halt. The mayor, again. He didn’t have time for this argument. “How did she get to the school? The phone’s out and the water is probably rising right now.”

  “Well, it’s not exactly as if she’s going anywhere. Last I heard, she was catching a ride with someone. I think she arranged for that teenager who works for her to bring Matty out there. I had to call off school for the afternoon. Something’s got to be done about the damned department of transportation letting those roads get this bad...”

  “Selene, do you realize that if school had to be called off because of the roads, Maya could be stranded?” Axell asked impatiently, cutting off the tirade on the transportation board. “Can you get out there and see if she’s all right?”

  “Look, she’s got food, a bed, a roof over her head. She’s fine. I’ve got a meeting with my lawyer in a few minutes. She really can take care of herself, you know.”

  Axell heard the speculative note in her voice but ignored it. “Did it ever occur to you, Selene, that she’s nine months pregnant and doesn’t have any transportation?”

  He heard hesitation on the other end of the line before Selene replied. “Women know these things in plenty of time, right? She’d have told me if she was in any pain.”

  “Selene, we’re talking about Maya, remember? Have you ever heard her complain? I’m heading out there. You keep calling the school, see if you can reach her. I’ll let you know as soon as I get there. Keep your cell phone with you.”

  “Suit yourself.”

  Axell heard worry behind Selene’s flippant attitude, and assured she’d be on hand if Maya needed her, he hung up.

  He wished he’d brought the Rover into town today, but he’d just had it washed and hadn’t wanted to get it dirty. Stupid.

  Not taking the time to castigate himself properly, Axell hurried out the front door, locked it, and dodged rain drops until he reached the BMW. He was probably worrying for nothing. She was probably upstairs, dizzily creating palaces out of that trash heap.

  She’d do it too, Axell realized. She would probably scavenge bolts of cloth from Goodwill, decorate the walls with it, and call it home. She’d be sitting there with her teapot on a toadstool, sipping tea when he arrived.

  He needed to reassure himself with those thoughts. He didn’t want to accept responsibility for any more women, and certainly not for a comparative stranger.

  Maybe not a comparative stranger. He knew her bad habits as well as his own. And there was the matter of that kiss... Something else he didn’t want to think about.

  As he navigated puddles large enough to splash the car’s roof, he congratulated himself for not driving one of those low-slung sports cars that Angela had preferred. The Beamer’s solidity would get him through.

  Axell lost some of that confidence when the heavy car fishtailed in a particularly deep stream of water as he left the main highway. Slow down, he muttered, easing up on the gas pedal as the rain poured harder, blinding the windshield. He’d driven these roads for decades. He knew every willow oak, every curve around the cotton fields, every skinny creek that rose in bad weather. He’d be all right. He just prayed Maya had the sense to stay where she was. Someone else might not know the roads as well as he.

  What the hell was he doing out here? He was being an overprotective ass. Angela had accused him of that often enough. Maya was warm and safe. He was the idiot navigating dangerous roads in flood conditions. Maya would think he was crazy. He ought to turn back right now and go home and check on Constance.

  He didn’t turn around. Constance was fine. He’d built his home above the flood plain. The rain only threatened the old houses built by rivers and creeks.

  He was just being practical, but Selene’s words rang in his ears. What the devil did you think you were doing, moving her into a place the city is condemning? That poor girl had her hopes up so high...
<
br />   How many times could one person be knocked down before they quit getting up?

  He wouldn’t think like that. Maya was a survivor. She wasn’t like Angela. She wouldn’t do anything to hurt Matty or the baby. Maybe she’d holed up out here so she could cry her eyes out in private, but she would be fine. By now, she had that tea ready.

  Axell rode high on that confidence until he hit the river of red muddy water pouring over the road from the new shopping center development, and the car stalled.

  Damned planning commission. He ought to sue.

  ***

  Maya swept the last pile of dirt into a dustpan and dumped it into a trash bag she’d brought from downstairs. There, she had two rooms clean. That’s all they’d need for now.

  She grimaced as the pain in her back lapped in waves around to her front. Straightening, she clung to a chair until the ache rolled past. She was overdoing it. The ache had steadily worsened throughout the day. She eased herself into the chair.

  The telltale burst of water down her thigh hit her with shock.

  Oh, God, not now.

  Of course, now. That’s the way her life worked.

  The baby was coming early.

  All right, Maya. Let’s not panic. First babies took their time. She really wasn’t even having labor pains yet, just the usual backache.

  Clutching the stair rail, she worked her way down to the lower bathroom. This business of the bathroom and kitchen on the first floor could be a real pain when the baby arrived, she realized. Maybe she could adapt one of these lower rooms for living in and fix an upper one for school. Be creative, Maya. There’s a solution to every problem.

  She washed herself and rinsed the wet dress. She needed to clean the mess upstairs. She should have kept a change of clothing here. She’d look real cute with a Pampers taped to her when help arrived.

 

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