Linny's Sweet Dream List

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Linny's Sweet Dream List Page 23

by Susan Schild


  “Maybe the others have made headway.” Dottie tried to sound hopeful but kept wringing her hands.

  She felt the grip of anxiety, too, knowing that with every passing hour the situation grew more dire. Reaching over, she held her mother’s hands to quiet them. Her mother kissed her cheek. “Let me know when you hear anything.”

  Linny nodded dispiritedly as she clambered from the car. “I promise.”

  CHAPTER 16

  Lost and Found

  As she watched the Buick bump down the driveway, Linny felt forlorn and trudged into the house. When she let Roy outside, he took off like he was jet-fueled. Leaning in the doorframe, Linny watched him. After a quick pee, he put his nose to the ground, and barked continually as he snuffled the grass, weaving up and down the property line.

  He wanted to eat those darned chickens. “Roy, come. Come,” she called, but he didn’t even slow his pace. Finally, she strode to the yard, grabbed his collar and frog-walked him inside. She spooned out his dinner and he ate greedily, but then paced restlessly around the kitchen and pawed at the door.

  Slumping at the kitchen table, Linny chewed an energy bar, but her clutching stomach made it hard for her to eat more than a few bites. The wind whistled around the side of the house. Peering out the window, she watched the sky fill with billowing, gray clouds, and the limbs of trees in the yard dance wildly. She shook her head in frustration. The brewing thunderstorm was going to be a doozy—just what a tired, disheartened search party needed. Picturing Neal walking through blinding rain and cowering from lightning strikes, she shuddered. The segment of a long-forgotten childhood prayer came back to her, and she sent it up silently. God, have your angels fold their wings around him, and guard him with your love.

  Propped up on pillows, Linny lay in her bed and listened to the rain. Outside her bedroom window, thunder cracked and lightning flared. Too wired to sleep, but too tired to comprehend the paragraph she’d just read for the third time, Linny gave up trying to read. The lights flickered and went out. Great. Just what she needed. Fumbling her way down the hall and into the kitchen, she rummaged in the junk drawer, and found a flashlight, candles, and a box of wooden matches. Leaving the candles on the counter, she turned on the flashlight and walked back to the bedroom. Pulling Roy into bed with her, she listened to rumbling thunder, and the raindrops splattering hard on the roof. She repeated the prayer she’d remembered, not sure if it was meant for Jack or Neal. She’d say it for the both of them. Finally, exhaustion claimed her, and she fell into a thin, restless sleep.

  Later, she woke, drenched in sweat. Rain pounded on the roof and the wind howled. Her dream had been vivid. A frightened boy in a wooden closet kept insisting, “I’m right here. I’m right here.” Linny sat straight up in bed, instantly awake. Suddenly, she knew.

  Hurriedly, she extricated herself from the bedding. Roy jumped down from the mattress, ready for action. She grabbed the flashlight, and threw a slicker on over her nightgown and pulled on a pair of old cowboy boots. “Let’s go, buddy,” she called to Roy.

  Unlocking the back door, she ran clumsily through the yard, her flashlight bobbing. She was drenched almost immediately, even with the rain coat. Roy was right on her heels, barking furiously. Branches lashed at her face and briars snagged her legs as she wove her way through the woods to Margaret’s, but she plowed on. A lightning bolt hit close and her heart pounded. Finally, she spotted the clearing and the next hair-raising strike illuminated the three outbuildings of the miniature village. Chickens clucked in the General Store and Post Office, but Roy ignored them and raced for the tiny cottage. Thank heavens for the dream and for the realization that the dog had been alerting her to the boy, rather than worrying the chickens. “Neal, Neal. We’re coming,” she hollered. The dog ran on ahead and scratched furiously at the wooden door. “Good boy, Roy,” she called, a mix of rain and tears streaming down her face. ‘Neal,” she shouted. “Neal.”

  As she held the flashlight under her arm and struggled to pull the warped doors open, Linny heard frightened sobbing. She intensified her efforts, and shouted over the pounding of the rain, “It’s all right, Neal. We’re coming.”

  Finally, she managed to pry the doors open and shone the light over the bushel baskets, the lawn tractor, leaning stacks of rakes and shovels, and . . . a mountain bike. At the sound of piteous wailing, she turned the beam to rest it on the boy, crouched in a corner, wrapped in a plastic tarp.

  The boy’s face was pinched, and his eyes wild behind cockeyed glasses. His clothes looked wet, and he shivered. Blocking his eyes from the light, he quavered, “Who are you?”

  Her knees weak with adrenaline, Linny lowered the light from his face, and her heart went out to him. He must be terrified. She stooped, and in as a gentle a tone as could be heard above the storm, said, “I’m Linny, Neal. I’m a friend of your dad’s. We met at his office, remember?”

  Tears trickling down his face, he nodded, and cringed at the crackling lightning. Roy rushed to the boy and starting licking his face. The boy gave a tremulous smile, and hugged the wet dog.

  “This is Roy, he’s the one who found you,” she said.

  Still stroking Roy, the boy nodded, and said shakily, “The dog with pancreatitis.”

  Linny smiled. “Right. He’s all better now. Let’s get you inside where it’s warm and dry, okay?” He gave her a nod, and she helped unwrap him from the tarp. He reached for a backpack, and clutched it to him As she threw open the door, he shrank back as another bolt of lightning lit the sky. Grabbing his hand, she sheltered him from the pelting rain as best she could, and stumbled back through the woods toward her trailer.

  In the kitchen, she sat him down, and kept up a stream of patter in an effort to calm him. “We are so glad to see you, I can’t even tell you. Weren’t you smart to think of staying in the little house and using that plastic as a blanket.” His crying subsided, but his shivering intensified. “The power’s out. Will you hold this for me?” She handed him the flashlight, lit the candles, and grabbed supplies from the closet. Draping a blanket around Neal’s thin shoulders, she rubbed them until his shivering subsided, then took a towel to his hair. Her eyes swept over him appraisingly. “Are you okay, Neal? Are you hurt in any way?”

  His chin wobbled, and the drenched eleven-year-old looked like a much younger child. “I’m okay. I’m hungry, though.”

  “We can fix that,” she assured him, breathing out a sigh of relief.

  “Dad and Mom and Chaz are going to be so mad at me.” Neal started to sob. “I don’t want to just stay with my mother. I want to be with Dad, too.” Roy came closer and looking anxious, rested his nose on Neal’s knee. His eyes still streaming, the boy reached down to stroke the puppy’s muzzle.

  Linny put a hand on his shoulder and looked him in the eyes. “Neal, no one’s going to be mad, and no one can keep you from your father.” She hoped she was telling the truth. “As soon as I call your dad to tell him you are okay, I’m going to fix you a bunch of sandwiches. Do you like peanut butter?”

  Neal nodded, his tears slowing, and he stroked Roy’s head.

  She grabbed her cell. Her hair and bathrobe were dripping and she was shivering, but Linny was soaring.

  Pushing in the number for Jack’s cell, it rang three times before he answered, sounding strained and exhausted.

  “He’s here, Jack. He was in Margaret’s little cottage near the chicken houses, and he’s fine,” she choked out. “Let me put him on the phone.” Tears streamed down her cheeks as she handed the phone to Neal.

  Twenty minutes later, when Jack strode into the room, the candles cast a golden glow on his face, tight with suppressed emotion. Linny’s teeth quietly chattered, as the ball of adrenaline in her stomach slowly dissolved. From the couch, she watched Jack embrace the boy and rock him back and forth, murmuring reassurances. Neal’s skinny arms wound around his father’s neck, and he cried anew as Jack stroked his head. Over the boy’s shoulders, Jack’s gaze held Linny’s, and he
gave her a look that conveyed such intense gratitude and relief that her heart caught. Tears brimmed again and trickled down her cheek. She brushed them away, touched and privileged to be a part of this reunion.

  “I am so thankful”—Jack paused and steadied his voice—“for your help. I still don’t know how you figured it out.”

  “Thank Roy,” she murmured, smiling through her tears. “It finally occurred to me that the chickens had been at Margaret’s for a while, and Roy hadn’t made a fuss over them until the past two days. The penny finally dropped.”

  Neal slowly stopped crying, and whispered to his Dad, “I have to use the bathroom.”

  “Go ahead, buddy. We’ll be right here.” Jack released him, pointed him down the hall, and the boy turned away. Jack’s eyes locked on hers. He sat down beside her on the couch. Wordlessly, he buried his fingers in her hair, pressed his forehead to hers for a moment, and folded her into his arms. “Linny,” he murmured.

  Nestling into the spot between his neck and shoulders, she felt safe and protected, like she was the one who’d come home after a harrowing journey. She sank into him, and sighed. At the sound of the toilet flushing, she reluctantly pulled away.

  Neal padded back in the room, and slid onto the pillows beside Jack. Resting his head on his father’s shoulder, he murmured drowsily, “Don’t forget my bike.”

  Jack put a hand on the back of the boy’s head, and said softly, “We’ll come back for that, son. Let’s get you home and in bed.”

  Linny walked them out the door. Jack circled her in his free arm, hugged her and kissed the top of her head. Husky-voiced, he whispered, “Get some sleep, my sweet girl.”

  Sweet girl, she thought dreamily, as she locked the door. His sweet girl. She floated to her bed, pulled in the puppy, and fell into a deep sleep.

  After the night’s raging storms, morning dawned clear and golden, and sunlight spilled like honey over the fields. Linny rubbed her eyes and put on the coffee. Gazing out the window at the clean, clear morning, she sighed, still filled with gratitude about so many things, and a buzzing of excitement about new possibilities.

  After leaving a voice mail for her mother, Linny glanced at the time, and gulped her last sips from the mug. She needed to get ready and step on it. Had her phone not dinged a reminder, she’d have forgotten this morning’s meeting with Lil at Earth and Sea.

  Keys in hand, she hugged the dog, and rubbed the back of the Lucky Duck. “Help this meeting go well,” she called, and turned to go.

  At the store, Lil gave her a handshake and a warm smile. “Morning, Linny. Let’s find us a quiet spot.” She led her to the back of the coffee shop, and patted the seat beside her. “So tell me what you are thinking.”

  The idea that had been percolating in her mind had finally become crystal clear to her. “I’d like to run a management development program for small business owners here at your store. No matter what kind of small business you own, you run into the same kinds of problems—how to hire the right employees, teach them to treat customers well, and manage performance problems.” She explained her ideas for the evening classes.

  When she’d finished, Lil nodded so enthusiastically that her curls bounced. “Count us in. If Frankie says, ‘Let’s fire ’em all’ one more time, I’ll strangle him.” She rolled her eyes and grinned. “Let’s talk through the details . . .”

  As she tooled down the two-lane road back toward home, Linny sang along to a song on the oldies station, waved at the farmer driving by on a tractor, and lowered the window to let in the cool morning air. The pieces of her Sweet Dream List were finally starting to fall into place. Work couldn’t get much sweeter than a job helping smart people run their businesses better. On the personal front, there was Jack. She tingled at the remembrance of last night’s embrace.

  As she drew closer to the farm, she saw several neon yellow, hand-lettered posters that read HUGE YARD SALE ON SATURDAY—BARGAINS GALORE!!! Linny shook her head, hoping that, by some miracle, Dottie wouldn’t see them.

  Bumping down the road to the farm, she braked hard, spewing gravel. She threw the car in reverse. Had she read the sign correctly? The arrow looked like it pointed down their road. Craning her neck, she saw she’d read it right. Puzzled, she continued down the road, trying to figure it out. When she spotted another yellow sign directing yard sale shoppers into her mother’s driveway, Linny turned the car in behind the carport. Her mother’s Buick was there, and parked behind it at an angle, was Dessie’s Lincoln.

  Linny rapped on the screen door. “Mama?” she called.

  “I’m coming. Hold your horses.” Dottie flipped the hook on the door. Her hair was tied up in a kerchief and her face had smudges of dirt on it. “Hey, sugar,” she said, with a Cheshire cat smile.

  Linny tilted her head. “What’s going on? What’s the story with the signs?”

  Her mother beckoned, leading Linny back to the living room. The blinds were pulled open, and warm sunlight filled the room. Her mother’s yard sale finds were separated into distinct piles, and Dessie and Ruby chattered as they affixed bright orange price tags to items. They smiled and waved at Linny as she stopped, gaping. “What . . .” she sputtered. She turned to her mother. “Don’t tell me . . .”

  Dottie grinned broadly at her. “Yes ma’am. We’re having a big yard sale. Everything must go.” She held out her hands and waved them around the room.

  Linny shook her head, afraid to believe the news. “What . . . what brought this on?”

  Giving Linny a look that begged her not to judge, her mother said softly, “I think I’m . . . feeling things again. Last two nights, I was scared about that lost child. I prayed so hard, and felt flat-out joy when you found him.” Dottie shook her head. “I haven’t felt any of those feelings in a long time, because I was hunkered down in this cocoon.” She gestured around the room. “Things started with me telling the truth to you girls, and picked up steam when I told my girlfriends, and found that sweet pea dog.” She made a smooching sound and sent Curtis a finger wave. Lowering her voice confidentially, she added, “I even told The Sisters of Dorcas.”

  “Whoa. How did that go?” Linny asked nervously, hoping the church ladies hadn’t judged her.

  Dottie clasped her hands and shook her head. “Wonderful. We’re calling it the ‘The S.O.D. Truth-Telling Club’ now. One lady is married to a man who likes men better, and that’s not even the worst story.” She raised both brows. “Now we pray for each other, and find the right Bible verses for each situation. After unburdening myself to them I started thinking, ‘Why do I need all this stuff in my house?’ ” She waved at the stacks of junk. “Once I decided to let things go, it was easy. Like a walk in the parking lot.”

  “Good, Mama,” Linny said, wide-eyed and barely registering the odd phrasing. She marveled at her mother’s U-turn away from crazy.

  Her mother beamed, and shrugged. “So I just called up Dessie and Ruby this morning and told them if they helped me hold a yard sale Saturday, we’d take whatever money we made and put it toward a cruise.”

  “A cruise,” Linny repeated, disbelievingly. Her mother had never even been out of North Carolina.

  Ruby gave a dreamy smile. “Ever since Love Boat, I’ve wanted to go on a cruise.”

  Dessie called out, “There’ll be bridge tournaments, buffets, and foxy men who want to dance with you.” She swished her hips back and forth. Both of her friends giggled.

  Linny touched her mother’s arm. “I’m so proud of you.”

  “Thank you.” Her mother blushed, and made a shooing motion. “Now, you get on with your day. The girls and I have got a lot of work to do before Saturday.”

  Back home at the trailer, Linny went to her desk, found her spiral notebook and turned to her Sweet Dream List. Under her PERFECT WORK LIFE subheading, she found her entry, Get work where you can help other people and make a difference. Smiling proudly, she took a Sharpie and put a bold check mark beside it. She paused, and picked up a pen to add an en
try to the PERFECT PERSONAL LIFE column—Kiss Jack Avery more frequently and thoroughly. Smiling, she tore the list from the notebook and taped it to the wall over her desk, where she’d be reminded of it every day.

  When the phone rang, she picked up, and heard Diamond whisper, “Hullo, pumpkin. It’s me. I’ve got some good news, but before I spill it, you need to get me some info, stat. Are you at your laptop?”

  “Yes,” Linny whispered back. “Why are we whispering?”

  “I’m in a golf cart at Pinehurst on Number Two, and cells are strictly verboten.”

  The interaction was classic Diamond. “Go on.” Her fingers poised above the keyboard, Linny asked, “What do you need?”

  “A dreamy man gave me a few pointers on my short game and I need you to find out if he’s married,” Diamond said sotto voce.

  Linny raised her eyes to heaven. “My good news is that you’ve met a man and are improving your golf game?”

  Diamond chortled softly. “No, silly-billy. I’ll get to you in a jiff. Just help me out here first. His name is Rowdy Walker.”

  Though she sighed aggrievedly, Linny Googled him. “Is he the Rowdy Walker who won two major golf tournaments last year, the man who is one of the top-ranked golfers in the world? That Rowdy Walker?”

  “I think that’s him,” she breathed sounding thrilled.

  “He’s happily married, a father of three, and a devout Christian.” Linny enjoyed popping Diamond’s bubble. Princess Cabo-Homestead-Pinehurst was starting to get on her nerves.

  “Drat.” The lawyer sighed sadly. “Here’s today’s good news. Kandi Lane—whose real name is Lurleen Snodgrass, by the way—isn’t going to bother you anymore. Once she caught wind we were digging around in her business, she skipped town. Besides her DUIs and check-kiting charges, little Lurleen must have other secrets she’d rather we not uncover. Left the hot car, too. Stopped payments a few months ago. Pity. We’ll add it to the debt column.” She sighed deeply. “Hold ’em in the road, darling.” The line went dead.

 

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