Impossible Dreams

by Patricia Rice

  All right, so he was a piece of shit. Considering he was actually contemplating safeguarding his license by scratching the mayor’s back and agreeing to close her school, that was nothing new. Slamming down his glass, Axell stood up. On second thought, he turned and grabbed the box of cinnamon rolls.

  Watching Maya eat that roll was an experience he didn’t mind repeating. Remembering his reaction to the kiss she’d bestowed upon him earlier, he figured his libido was in sorry need of feeding. He’d have to wait until the teacher moved out before satisfying his hunger.

  * * *

  “Bosco,” Matty declared in satisfaction as he wrapped his arms around the ragged rabbit and literally squeezed the fluffy pink stuffing out of its many holes.

  “Let me guess,” Axell said dryly from atop a ladder where he was attempting to affix chimes over the door. “It’s a chocolate rabbit.”

  Maya beamed in approval. “I would have opted for ‘Nestle,’ myself, but Cleo is into ancient commercials. I think she gets them from the oldies station.”

  “N-E-S-T-L-E-S, Nestles makes the very best...” Matty sang almost absently as he rummaged through his box of toys.

  “Chaw-w-klet,” Constance finished for him in a deeper voice.

  Maya erupted in giggles and Axell glowered down at her.

  “Clowns! I’m working with clowns. And remind me never to meet your sister. The two of you in the same room is likely to be dangerous to the sanity.” He stuck out his hand. “Give me another nail.”

  Maya sobered as she handed several up to him. “You do realize this is all her stuff, don’t you? I’m just a place holder.” As Cleo’s release date grew closer, her anxiety level climbed. At least Cleo’s last curt note had thanked her for sending Matty’s artwork.

  Axell spoke around the nail he held in his mouth. “Yeah. So call me stupid.”

  “Stupid,” Matty mimicked from below. “S-T-U-P-I-E-D.”

  “Stew-w-pid,” Constance intoned.

  Maya broke up all over again.

  Grinning, Axell hammered the chimes in place. “Who taught that kid to spell?”

  “He’s five years old!” Maya protested. “He barely even knows his letters yet.”

  “He can almost read my Dr. Seuss books,” Constance said matter-of-factly, opening another box the movers had left stacked in the middle of the newly waxed shop floor. “Look, the crystal ball!”

  “Don’t play with that stuff, Constance,” Axell warned as he climbed back down the ladder. “Maya has to tell the cleaning crew where to put it all.”

  “Actually, I think Matty is memorizing the words,” Maya started to say, but the door swung open as soon as Axell moved the ladder from in front of it.

  “Headley! What the hell are you doing here?” Axell propped the ladder against the wall and dusted his hands on a rag.

  “Hell,” Matty repeated idly, removing one of his few tattered books from the box. “Hell, bell, well...” He stopped and pondered a new rhyme.

  Maya covered her mouth with her hand to hide her laughter since Axell didn’t look particularly happy with Headley’s presence. She didn’t want to tick him off any more. It was generous of him to take time off from his restaurant to spend the evening helping her move in. She eyed the older man warily, knowing who he was by sight. Everyone knew Headley.

  The elderly reporter eyed the children and the confusion of boxes as if they might explode in his face at any minute. He shook out his soaked umbrella — the rain had continued all night and through the day — and leaned against it as he observed the contents of the few unpacked boxes. “Same weird paraphernalia, hmm? Not much call for that stuff around here, is there?”

  “That’s what you tracked me down to tell me?” Axell removed the crystal ball from his daughter’s hands, swiped it with his dust cloth, and set it inside the glass counter Maya had cleaned earlier. “There’s actually some pretty good stuff in here. It just needs the proper display.”

  “A clean one,” Maya said dryly, not rising from her seat on the packing crate as she set another pot of water on the hot plate. “Would you care for tea? I can’t offer a seat...” She gestured at the stacks of boxes burying the table and chairs.

  “I’ll clear those away for you. The packing crate is making me nervous.” Axell crossed the room and shifted a box from one of the ice cream parlor chairs, ignoring the man who had obviously come to see him.

  Headley shifted another box and gallantly extended his hand to help Maya from her awkward seat. “Miss Alyssum? Jason Headley. Your name is familiar. Are you from around here?”

  Maya shrugged. “So they say, but I don’t remember the days of infancy.”

  Headley grinned. “Anyway, I’ve heard a lot about you.”

  “From Katherine, I suppose,” Axell interjected. “She exaggerates.”

  “She’s not the one who calls me twenty-months pregnant,” Maya pointed out, accepting the reporter’s hand and exchanging her seat on the crate for the chair.

  “Well you are, even if you refuse to act like it.” Axell glared from her to Headley, than stalked toward the door. “All right, Headley, let’s take it to the bar. I’m just getting in the way of the lunatics over here anyway.”

  Headley hesitated, glancing at the children digging through still another box. Maya caught the hesitation immediately.

  “Constance, why don’t you help Matty take his things upstairs? Now that we have furniture again, we’ll be staying here tonight.”

  Matty screamed with delight and raced for the stairs. Looking uncertain, Constance glanced back and forth between the adults, then obediently followed with her skinny arms full of toys.

  “Does that help, Mr. Headley?” Maya asked as the children disappeared up the stairs.

  The reporter lowered his bulk into the other chair and eyed her jasmine-scented tea skeptically. “I’m not certain anything helps, but I thought this might be something you needed to hear, too.” He glanced at Axell, who stood with arms crossed, lean hip propped against the glass counter, waiting.

  Receiving no prompt to continue, Headley shrugged. “The police arrested your busboys for possession and sale, Axell. Rumors are flying that they’re just the flunkies and you’re the bigger operation. Some people are jealous of the success you’ve made of that place.”

  Even through the gloomy twilight, Maya could see Axell’s knuckles whiten. She recognized the lines tightening beside his mouth. He had an enormous capacity for restraining his temper, or diverting it in strange ways. She didn’t think she wanted to be around when the dam broke this time. To drain off a little of the pressure, she spoke before Axell could. “And why did you think I needed to hear this, Mr. Headley?”

  “Just Headley, dear. That’s all anyone calls me.” He shrugged his gray-suited shoulders again. “The connection is nebulous, but it doesn’t take much in a small town. Your sister was busted for drugs, Axell is moving her inventory into his building, and you’re living out at his place. Your sister’s shop attracted a lot of teenagers. One thing leads to another and tongues are flapping like sheets in the wind.”

  Shocked, Maya couldn’t summon a reply.

  “Ralph is after my liquor license,” Axell explained wearily. “I take that back, he’s killing two birds with one stone with that rumor. Label us both as druggies and he eliminates any chances of my running for his job and kills your business along with mine. He figures you’ll pack up and move out, and then I’ll leave the Pfeiffer property uncontested. He must have found out that I persuaded one of the other council members to vote against the access road.”

  “Is that what this is all about?” Headley asked with interest. “I’d wondered.”

  “He can’t do that, can he?” Maya asked with trepidation. She’d lost homes before. Lost parents, dogs, cats, and every valuable possession she’d owned except for the teacups. But she’d never been the cause of someone else losing anything. She watched Axell with growing horror. Surely, this was all just a rumor gone out of hand.<
br />
  “The mayor can’t do anything personally, but he can pull strings. I’ll have to investigate the financing behind that shopping center. I thought Ralph had kept his hands clean, but he’s dumping too much into this to be doing it just for campaign contributions.” Axell shrugged and didn’t move from his position against the counter. “Thanks for the warning, Headley, but you shouldn’t have worried Miss Alyssum. I’ll take care of this.”

  “You’ll take care of this? Someone is insulting my integrity, threatening my sister’s shop and my school, and you’ll take care of this? Do you have any idea what kind of catastrophe this could be for me? They could take Matty away, take my school away, destroy Cleo’s livelihood...” Maya shoved up from her chair. “I’ll damned well snatch the mayor bald before that happens.”

  Axell grabbed her arm as she stalked by. “It’s my liquor license and my fight, and you don’t have the experience to deal with it. Now go on upstairs with the kids and get some rest. Ralph and I have been battling it out since he switched to a Charlotte football team in high school.”

  Had she been in any condition to swing a punch, she would have. Instead, Maya smiled sweetly and shrugged off his hold. “Of course, honey bear. You do that. You just look out for little ol’ me. You’re so good at it.” She patted Axell’s wide chest, decided touching him was a mistake if the tension triggering up her fingertips was any indication, then pinched his cheek in defiance. “I’ll just sashay upstairs and let you big ol’ men take care of everything.”

  Axell’s eyes narrowed into stony slits, his jaw muscle twitched, and he crossed his arms again, apparently restraining himself from shaking her. “When I need a woman to fight my battles, I’ll let you know.”

  “Why, sure thing, sugar dumplin’. Isn’t that what Ah just said?” She mimicked her mother’s drawl. “I’ll just go upstairs and call Selene and we’ll have us a real nice gossip. You call me if you need anything, y’heah?”

  Flowing skirts twirling around her, Maya drifted up the stairs and out of sight.

  Headley grunted and shoved up from the awkward parlor chair. “If she’s talking about Selene Blackburn, you got your hands full, son. That little witch could scalp an army and leave them grinning. You won’t have to worry about poor Ralph, except where to send the flowers for his funeral.”

  “Selene? She’s a pest, but from what I hear, she didn’t even graduate high school.” Uncomfortably catching himself watching the empty stairs, Axell adjusted his focus. Maya could damned well do whatever she wanted to do. She wasn’t any of his concern. He just had to decide the best way of handling this. “Selene will call her daddy and have Ralph’s accounts audited or something.”

  Headley snorted and shook his shaggy head. “You’re living in a dream world, boy. You need to get out and around women more often.” He glanced at the stairway. “And I reckon that one bears watching as well. She might look like an addlepate, but keep in mind: she arrived broke and homeless seven months ago and already she has a school and a shop and a hook in you and one of the richest families around. She’s not dumb. She’s got an agenda. You might look further into her background.”

  No, Maya wasn’t dumb, but agendas weren’t precisely her method of operation. Axell glared at Headley, then glared at the far wall after Headley strolled out.

  He had to remember why he was doing any of this: Constance.

  And she might not even be his own kid.

  A wave of emptiness engulfed him, and wearily, Axell unfolded from the counter to head back to the restaurant. He’d pick up Constance later, after he got off work. He just couldn’t face her again right now. He kept searching for signs of himself in her, and even he knew kids were sensitive to things like that.

  Twelve

  Ain’t nothin’ in the middle of the road but yellow stripes and dead armadillos.

  The tension headache pounding in the back of his skull matched the churning in his gut as Axell watched Ralph Arnold parade up and down the floor, oozing sincerity. The mayor’s office in this tiny town was scarcely a standard of high living, but the polished desk and the flag hanging behind it offered a semblance of Southern patriotism. The mayor, with his professionally styled chestnut hair and gym-maintained physique, practiced the role of up-and-coming politician with more arrogance than the office deserved.

  “Alyssum. That’s the name of the woman who owns that shop, isn’t it? I’d heard her family was from here, but that name doesn’t ring a bell.”

  “Only ding-a-lings hear bells, Ralph,” Axell growled. In a town like this, family name was everything, but he wasn’t buying into that tradition. “It doesn’t matter who their connections are. The point is, these rumors are bordering on slander, and I want an end to them.”

  The mayor shrugged. “Where there’s smoke, there’s usually fire. Charlotte police have been cracking down hard on dealers, but drug use is escalating. Face it, Holm, the dealers are moving out here where they figure we don’t have enough police to catch them. And they’re probably right.”

  “They’re not using my premises,” Axell said irritably. “Let the police do their drug busts elsewhere.”

  “It’s not my venue, Axell, you know that. I have nothing to do with any of it.”

  Grimly, Axell slapped his hands on the huge desk and leaned forward. “Don’t give me that bull, Ralph. It’s got your signature all over it. Those busboys have only been with me a week. In another week, they’d have been gone. Kitchen help comes and goes faster than flies. It was only a matter of time before some of them got busted for something. You just made sure it was on my time and that the incident got publicized.”

  Ralph shrugged his padded shoulders again and stared out the window blinds to the rain-puddled parking lot. “I don’t tell the police department what to do.”

  “You damned well should. That’s your job.” Axell removed his hands from the desk and swung around, heading for the door. “And if you don’t back off, I’m taking that job away from you. That’s a promise.” He slammed the door after him.

  He didn’t usually slam doors. Ralph’s secretary looked up in surprise, but Axell merely nodded and strode out without greeting. He figured he’d bite off the head of anyone who so much as smiled at him. If he were the kind who snarled, he’d snarl. Instead, he left his car at the curb and dodged raindrops to the rear of restaurant, releasing what little steam he could in the short walk.

  The damage was already done. There wasn’t much the mayor could do now unless Ralph called the governor and told him to have the alcohol board back off on the liquor license inquiry. Axell couldn’t see that happening. If Axell called a news conference and announced he was filing for the mayor’s job, that would only drive Ralph to speed up the license inquiry. The only way out of this trap would be to pacify Ralph by persuading Maya to close her damned school, and that would lower him to the mayor’s level of slime.

  By the time he reached his office, Axell’s brain was steaming full speed ahead. He needed to convince Ralph he had the power to make Maya and Selene change their minds about the Pfieffer property. Maybe he could find them another property. Ralph really didn’t care about the bar’s liquor license. He wasn’t that petty minded. For some reason, he was just determined to have that shopping center road and parking lot and was using the license inquiry as leverage. If he thought Axell could give him what he wanted...

  “It’s about time you got here. The ABC people are crawling all over the kitchen.”

  Katherine was pacing up and down his office, looking more spectacular than usual with her blond hair cut in some bouncy new way so it swung and danced every time she moved. And she moved a lot. Axell could appreciate the performance, even if he wasn’t interested in the play itself.

  “You want me to set out mousetraps for them?” he asked, dropping into his chair to jot notes. Last night’s dream of red-haired leprechauns had gotten under his skin. He’d actually been hoping he’d come in here and find Maya waiting for him instead of Katherine. She�
��d promised to stop over and consult him about the shop’s grand reopening. The house had echoed emptier than ever last night without her and Matty in it.

  “Very funny.” Katherine stalked up and down one more time for good effect. Her mini-skirt was shorter than usual today, and her legs flashed enticingly above her high-soled shoes.

  Axell thought irrelevantly of Maya’s dragon-decorated sneakers and bit back a grin wondering if Katherine would dare have her shoes tattooed. That led him to wonder if Maya had ever had anything else but her shoes tattooed, and from there, his mind degenerated into wondering what she looked like naked. He blinked in horror at the wayward path of his thoughts.

  Katherine sat on the corner of his desk and her skirt slid to the top of her thigh. She wore shimmering pantyhose that caught the morning light, but Axell’s mind traveled rebelliously to a rainbow-prismed purple streak. Maybe he was having some kind of mental breakdown. He should take a vacation.

  He slapped his pencil on the desk, leaned back in his chair, and ignoring his assistant’s flashing leg, glared up at her. “Did you want something, Katherine?”

  He thought she’d explode. Her eyes narrowed dangerously, her lips thinned to half their usual size, and her cheeks pinkened beyond their cosmetically-applied blush. “I wanted to help, but obviously, your mind is on more important things.” She slid off the desk and stormed toward the door before turning for her parting shot. “Judge Tony called me yesterday, making inquiries about how often Constance eats in the kitchen and who takes care of her while you work. I’m thinking of taking up Ralph’s offer of a job.”

  Axell winced as she slammed out. This was not going to be a good day.

  Picking up his pencil, he dialed his lawyer.

  ***

  Sitting at the parlor table, her wrought-iron chair padded with a cushion from the upstairs sofa, Maya polished Cleo’s myriad gnomes and dragons while the cleaning crew worked on unpacking and dusting the rest of the inventory. Cleo had always loved playing with the action figures from fast food chains, she remembered. The child in her must have thought this ugly pewter would sell well. Cleo’s inventory tended to reflect the toys she’d never had rather than any spiritual interest in New Age mysticism.