Beautiful Dreamer

by Melissa Brayden

  He hesitated. “C’mon, Dev. You know that’s not enough of a drop. Your client needs to be reasonable or lose a killer offer. My guy is prepared to walk. The property is not worth a dime more than ten. Hell, that view is partially obstructed.”

  “Get your client up.” Devyn was going to close this deal if it killed her. Even if she had to do it from thousands of miles away. The property had been on the market for three months now and was starting to get stale. This was her shot. Though her personal life had fallen apart around her, she had to keep her professional world propped up as much as possible in the midst. She wasn’t going to back down.

  “If you’ll consider a sixty-day close, you have a deal,” he said.

  “Done,” she said with a smile, knowing her client had already consented. “Let the paperwork commence.”

  Devyn hadn’t left the hospital for thirty-six hours, becoming numb to the harsh fluorescent lighting, sterile smell, round-the-clock chatter from the nurses’ station, and awful coffee no human should ever actually consume. But having been advised that Jill would likely wake soon from sedation, she wanted to steal what time she could to freshen up and grab a quick bite so she’d be ready and able to assist in any way needed. She let herself in for the second time to what she still saw as their family home from years ago, despite the transformations. When their mother died, she’d let her portion of the house go so Jill could move in. It only made sense given she had no interest in living in town herself and definitely didn’t need the money from a potential sale. Since that time, it was clear that Jill had practically remodeled the entire interior, updating the fixtures, the kitchen counters, and cabinetry. Not bad at all, she thought, as she moved through the house, still not quite used to being inside again. In broker mode, she quickly calculated the likely resale potential, knowing full well Jill would never in a million years consider selling. While she had a handful of good memories from the place, she wasn’t the type to get mired down in sentiment the same way.

  She hopped in the shower and lost herself beneath the stream of hot water, allowing it to cascade over her skin for an extra five minutes of heaven before forcing herself to towel off, get ready for the day ahead, and rejoin the world. She fed Jill’s five fish and headed back out to her rental just as her phone vibrated in her pocket. A local number she didn’t have programmed in her phone. She slid onto the call, nervous something had gone wrong at the hospital. Not the case.

  “This is Devyn.”

  “Who knows where the action’s at?” an enthusiastic female voice sang into the phone. Devyn was instantly sixteen years old again. Nostalgic and tingly.

  “Who knows where the parties are?” she sang back with a slight smile.

  “Who jumps, and jives, and is made up of five?”

  She knew the answer like it was yesterday. “The senior Dreamer Stars.”

  “You bitch, I hear you’re back in town and didn’t call. I don’t really mean the bitch part. Well, maybe a tad.” Cricket. They’d been part of the same five-person friend group and were co-captains of their high school cheer squad. “And I know it’s not under the best circumstances. Bless your sweet heart. We were all so sorry to hear about Jill’s accident. She’s going to pull through, right?” She said the words in that overly earnest voice people sometimes employed to communicate their abundance of sincerity.

  “She will,” Devyn said. “Recovery is going to be an uphill climb, though.” She scratched her forehead, still not quite sure what lay ahead but knowing it would be a lot.

  Cricket made a clicking sound at the back of her throat. “I just feel so awful about that. On an unrelated note, I have spin this afternoon, but maybe we can grab a bite after. You’ll need to get out of the hospital to keep your sanity. Lisa, Heather, and Coco are all free and dying to join us. We’ve all secured babysitters. You in?” Devyn dropped her hand from her forehead, leaning into the head trip it was to be talking to Cricket and hearing those names all said in a row together. They had been a tight group back in the day, the senior girls on the squad. The Senior Star nickname felt so ridiculous now.

  Devyn hesitated. “I’m not sure it’s a good idea for me to be away from Jill right now.” In fact, she couldn’t imagine it.

  “Well, shoot,” Cricket said. “Rain check, then. We’ll put the babysitters on standby and later this week we can revisit this possibility. We’re all just dying to see you and hear about all you’ve been up to.”

  Devyn took a breath. “I feel the same way and I’m confident that at some point we can make that happen.” Hell, she’d probably be here long enough to need a night out.

  “This will be insane.” Cricket crowed. “The Senior Stars back together again in the same place. Just think of the trouble we can get into in this town. Get ready, Dreamer’s Bay. We’re coming for ya.”

  “Pretty crazy,” she said, finding it hard to match Cricket’s excitement level or her strange overconfidence. Devyn wondered about her own ability to find enjoyment in shallow get-togethers and gossip. She lived a faster-paced life these days and rarely slowed down enough to eat, much less shoot the breeze. Did she even remember how, outside of schmoozing a client? Still, there was a part of her that was curious about her old friends, who held a special place in her heart for those playful memories.

  “I’ll give you a call soon, sweetie. Love to Jill. We’ll send over a basket of something to munch on.”

  “Oh, no, no. No need. You don’t have to do that.”

  “Already done, so don’t you fuss one little bit. Bye, now.”

  Devyn was left holding the phone to her ear after a call that felt a little bit like The Twilight Zone. She climbed into the tiny Spark, her own personal clown car, and on the drive back to the hospital, surfed the local radio stations, of which there were three. She learned that Dr. Dan and Loud Louise, the morning show hosts from back in the day, were still on the air after all these years. How was that possible? She thought of all she’d done in that time—college, fledgling career, advancement, real estate domination—and Dan and Louise were still spouting off on the airwaves every day. She wondered if Loud Louise had ever snagged that husband she so often pined for publicly, or if Dr. Dan ever really admitted that he was not, in fact, a doctor at all.

  “Gonna be a warmer one in Dreamer’s Bay today,” Dr. Dan exclaimed. “You got your kiddie pool all set up, Louise?”

  “You know it, Dan. Now if I can just get my eight-year-old to watch the little one and someone to watch that husband of mine, I can get in it.” Sounded like Louise now had a loud little family of her own. Well done, Loud Louise.

  “Don’t forget, Dreamers, we’ve got the Springaling coming up next month in Bountiful Park, and you simply do not want to miss out. Dig out your killer recipes for the bake-off and get to work. I, for one, will be there with a fork and bib ready to try everything fried before I cool off in the dunking booth.”

  Devyn shook her head and smiled. Of course the Springaling would still be going strong, full of food and games. This town loved their cookies, brownies, and cakes and made sure any and all events revolved around them. It seemed that hadn’t changed either.

  When Devyn arrived back in Jill’s hospital room, she was shocked to see a nurse standing over her sister, who blinked back up at her.

  “You’re awake,” Devyn said, much louder than she’d meant to. That wasn’t supposed to happen for another couple of hours. She moved quickly to her sister’s bedside and smiled down at her as warmth and relief took their turns. It was Jill. God, it felt good to see her. The nurse took a step back and allowed Devyn her space.

  Jill stared back at her in mystification, almost as if she didn’t believe what she was seeing. “Dev? You’re here?” Her voice was weak, but she was there and she recognized Devyn, which was everything.

  Devyn misted up right on cue, feeling a lump in her throat. “Yes. I’m here. I hopped a plane as soon as they called. Do you know where you are?”

  Before answering, Jill gesture
d to the nearby tray and the cup of water the nurse had left. Devyn put the straw to Jill’s lips and held it as she drank. “Hospital,” she said finally. “The nurse said…an accident.”

  Devyn nodded and ran a hand through her hair to distract herself and channel the coursing adrenaline. Somehow, talking to Jill made it all so very real. “A pretty bad one.”

  “I’m hurt.”

  “Yes. But you’re going to be okay. I promise.”

  Jill blinked and glanced down at her own body with her eyes, apparently not strong enough to raise her head fully. The bruise beneath her eye was now a painful-looking mixture of purples, blues, and reds. “My legs?”

  Devyn swallowed. “The left one took the brunt.”

  “Oh, God.” Jill started to squirm, which was alarming because Devyn wasn’t sure what damage that might do. She was out of her depth here and wondered if she should ring for the nurse to come back.

  “Listen, don’t worry about that right now,” she said, scrambling. “You just rest and let me handle everything. I’m on top of it, okay?”

  “But I’m the big sister,” Jill mumbled and closed her eyes, drifting off once again. It seemed the short conversation had taken up a lot of her energy.

  “Not today.” Devyn smoothed Jill’s hair softly. As she sat there alone in the quiet hospital room, she’d never missed their mother more. She wished for her nurturing superpowers now and stared skyward with a heavy heart for guidance. She needed tips to get Jill through this, to make her feel safe and protected.

  “Is this a bad time?” a voice asked in a whisper. Devyn turned to see a giant yellow chicken looming in the doorway. That had to be a hallucination, right? She squinted, recognizing the face that peered at her through the open orange beak. Elizabeth Draper. This time dressed as a human-sized barnyard animal.

  “What’s going on?” she whispered back. “What’s with the outfit?”

  Elizabeth glanced down. “Oh, you mean this? I just came from delivering a singing telegram to Genevieve at the post office. Do you remember her from the field trips we used to take there in elementary school? She always let us mail a postcard?”

  Devyn did, and nodded.

  “It’s her birthday today, and her coworkers wanted to surprise her.”

  “I’m sorry. With a chicken?” Devyn asked, trying to piece it together. She abandoned the whisper altogether. Jill could always sleep through the loudest of thunderstorms, a true gift.

  “Yes. Well, it was that or the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man, you know, from Ghostbusters? And then I have to figure out his singing voice, which is harder than it sounds.” She ran up the scale in a strange, low voice as a demonstration. “See? Just not quite there. I’m gonna work on it. So, as you can tell, my character options are limited. I could do a clown, but who wants that walking into your job on your special day?”

  “No one.”

  Elizabeth pointed at her. “Exactly. How’s the patient?”

  Devyn opened her mouth to answer but was distracted by the visual of Elizabeth attempting to walk into the room while maneuvering her giant orange feet. “She’s hanging in there. She woke up just a little while ago and was herself and alert and asking questions.”

  “That’s fantastic,” Elizabeth said, beaming. It really was a beam, too. Her smile lit up her whole face, and the beak surrounding it.

  “It was really nice to hear her voice, if only for a few minutes.”

  Elizabeth nodded and made a circular gesture. “Is it okay if I stick around a little bit? Even if she doesn’t wake up again for a while, I think she’ll know that I was here, and when people come to visit you, it matters.” Cue the big, bright smile. It was like a ray of sunshine had landed squarely in the room. On one hand, it was kinda nice. On the other, a little irritating, given her work mode. She was in the zone, and not up for sunshine, rainbows, and chickens, as nice as Elizabeth was.

  “I think that’s true, and you’re welcome to stay. I’m just going to be working remotely.” She gestured to the corner of the room where she’d set up her laptop earlier.

  “Thank you, and go right ahead. Don’t let me and my chicken-self get in the way.” A pause. “I heard the other fourth-grade teachers stopped by before school.”

  Devyn glanced up warily. “That must be where the smiley face cookies came from. I must have missed them while I was getting cleaned up at Jill’s place.” She returned to her laptop.

  “Hasn’t she just done so much with the house?” Elizabeth gushed.

  Yes, gushed.

  She was easily impressed, but this morning it was a bit much. Hopefully, Elizabeth and her good deeds would be needed elsewhere. She appreciated the help and all Elizabeth had done, but maybe space would be better today.

  “It looks great.” She opened her email.

  A horrible thought seemed to occur to Elizabeth. “Not that your childhood home didn’t look nice, too. I’m sure that it—”

  “It’s fine.” Devyn held up a hand, attempting to tamp down her frustration. “I translated you, and Jill’s made some great improvements.” Ah, look at that. There were several inquiries about Twenty-Four Walker, Wyatt’s building, sitting right there in her inbox. Right on schedule. Apparently, word was out that she had the listing, and agents were hungry to get their clients in the door first. She didn’t know how she was going to make this all work from Dreamer’s Bay, but she had to see if she could figure that part out. She rubbed her forehead, trying to ease out the creases that had been there for the past three days. She took a slow, deep breath and prepared to dig in.

  “Good, because I wouldn’t want you to think I thought less of the original house.”

  Good God. She paused. “I don’t.” To keep from having to force further conversation, Devyn turned away from Elizabeth and lost herself in her work. In the middle of her broker email was one from Wyatt Lowe himself, with a series of questions about her plans for a brokers’ open. He also wanted to know about her international contacts, of which she had hundreds. Not that she’d had time to reach out to any of them, given her current predicament. Nor was she in the headspace of the go-getter she was known to be. This was going to be a balancing act.

  “You’re not a fan of small talk. I can tell.”

  Elizabeth again. This was becoming a problem.

  Devyn rolled her lips in and glanced up to see Elizabeth peering over with those wide, curious green eyes. She stole a second glance. She reminded Devyn of that little skunk from Bambi with the eyes. What was its name? “I’m fine with small talk. I just have a lot on my plate and need to buckle down while I can.”

  “Busy day at work? I mean, I’m guessing.”

  “Yes.” She began typing to demonstrate. Surely, she’d get the message. Elizabeth had come to visit Jill, not her, so there was no reason for extra added small talk. Devyn stole another glance. She was also just a little too perky, sitting there in her chicken suit, as if her main goal in life was to deliver light, happiness, stars, and hearts. As nice a thought as that was, there was too much going on right now for blatant cheer. Who had the time? She had Jill, and Wyatt Lowe, and units in a high-rise she should be closing on that very second, not sitting here in Dreamer’s Bay, of all places, with a green-eyed Pollyanna impersonating poultry.

  “You’re a Realtor, aren’t you?” Elizabeth asked, pulling the head of the chicken away from her face like a hood, leaving it resting on the back of her shoulders.

  If that had been an option, why in the world would she wait so long? Next, she pulled a bottle of water from the oversized bag she carried with her. Devyn couldn’t imagine what kinds of things she carried in there. What was so important that she couldn’t leave a few of those items at home?

  “I’m a broker in Philadelphia,” she told Elizabeth, matter-of-factly.

  Elizabeth nodded. “You prefer the term ‘broker.’ Got it.”

  “I do. Thank you.”

  “Selling houses must be an interesting line of work.” She was smiling again.<
br />
  “Not houses. I mainly sell buildings. In their entirety.”

  Elizabeth paused mid-drink and lowered the bottle of water. “Even better. That sounds lucrative. Is it?”

  “I do okay.” She leveled her gaze on her laptop and attempted to focus yet again. She had a feeling this was going to be a long and very social afternoon.

  “I’d love to hear about it.”

  Devyn sighed and closed her laptop, accepting defeat. “What do you want to know?”

  Chapter Seven

  “I like this dog,” Dexter Whitby said, popping a malted milk ball into his dude-sized mouth. Scout raised her head from the new fluffy dog bed Elizabeth had purchased for her at the pet store, along with only about five hundred new toys all tossed into a basket in the corner for her to pick and choose from.

  “I think you lucked out,” KC said. “So many dogs gnaw on the drywall in the house and hide your strappy shoes.”

  After a long day of work, Elizabeth was happy to entertain her friends around her kitchen table. She’d put out a bucket—yes, a literal bucket—of Sam Adams lagers for them to pull from willy-nilly. It was past five, and she, for one, felt it. She’d never been a partyer or heavy drinker, but this was how Elizabeth Ann Draper liked to cut loose. A beer and her closest friends. More specifically, Dexter and KC.

  “No wall eating at all. I’m surprised at how little trouble she is.” Elizabeth smiled at Scout, proud of her and their newfound bond. “She really just wants to be around people, I’ve found. I’ve taken her out on several jobs, and everyone just dotes on her. She eats up the attention.”

  “Well, of course they do,” KC said, emphatically. “Have you seen her soulful doggy eyes and those eyelashes? Have you?”

  “I have. They’re one of the reasons she’s here.”