3 Never Tell Your Dreams

by Tonya Kappes

  Maggie locked the bathroom door behind her, placed both hands on either side of the sink and leaned in. It was her cue to dismiss herself as soon as she heard Bryan Adam’s Everything I Do. It was playing the night she crawled into Mitch’s bed, the night before she left for college and didn’t look back.

  Maggie looked in the mirror, studying herself disapprovingly. She rubbed the mascara from under her eyes.

  “Why, Maggie?” she asked herself. “Why do you have the need for Mitch to still be in love with you. You are getting married to Grady.”

  She didn’t have to remind herself of this, but it helped put Hazel’s issues into perspective. Maggie could see Hazel’s point and she could see Grady’s point. But why wasn’t Grady willing to throw the salt? If he loved her, he should’ve thrown the salt, and she wouldn’t be in this bathroom right now crying.

  With her chin up and her head held high, Maggie inhaled and stepped back into the bar.

  How long was she in the bathroom? She knew it wasn’t long, but the Turtle was extremely busy. Then again, it was Saturday night and the only bar in town. Through the crowd she could see the top of Mitch’s head and an arm draped around his shoulders. The arm seemed a little too familiar, like it fit there.

  Maggie dragged her eyes up along the arm covered in sparkly bangles and glass beads. Her eyes narrowed. She’d seen those bracelets before. As a matter of fact, she bought Belle the exact same bracelets from a high-end boutique in Manhattan.

  And that laugh. Belle.

  “Hi, sis.” Belle bent around the bar, her hair flung into Mitch’s glass. She giggled and pulled the rubber band off her wrist while gathering her hair into a low pony. “Oh, sorry. It’s Martini o’clock!”

  “Hey, everyone!” Tommy yelled over the crowd and tried to quiet them with his hands. “Our own Maggie Greenlee is here to celebrate her upcoming wedding and we need to make a toast to her.”

  Maggie blushed. This was what she remembered about Grandberry Falls. The Thirsty Turtle never disappointed.

  “To Maggie!” Belle tipped her glass up with the rest of the bar and threw back her martini. She pointed and screamed, “Mitchell Dozier!”

  “What?” Maggie put her empty glass down and looked to see what Belle was fussing over.

  “Mitch didn’t drink before he put his mug down.” Belle laughed all the way to the jukebox.

  “What?” Maggie frantically fisted Mitch’s shirt. “How could you?”

  Maggie wasn’t going to let Mitch off that easy. He knew exactly what that superstition meant. Maggie vividly remembered telling him at their high school graduation when Hazel made sure everyone took a drink before they sat down their glass after her toast.

  She grabbed her purse. There was no way she was going to stay there a second longer or she couldn’t be responsible for her actions. Before she reached the door, she heard Mitch yell after her, but she wasn’t about to turn around.

  “Maggie, come on.” Mitch was close on her heels. “Hey, you forgave your fiancé.”

  Once Maggie made it to the parking lot, she stopped and flung her head around causing her hair to whip with it. “What did you say?”

  She stepped back when Mitch came nose to nose with her. He’d never been this bold and she didn’t know where it was coming from.

  “Really, Maggie?” The moonlight made his features darker sending chills up Maggie’s arms. “You can’t tell me that big fancy city college you attended made you stupid.”

  She didn’t know this side of him and didn’t like it.

  “Can’t you just let me be? Go back to New York and get married.” His eyes darkened as he held her gaze. “I’m not a toy or a game for when you come home. We aren’t in high school anymore.”

  “You’re right.” Maggie dug out her keys from her purse and continued. “I won’t bother you ever again. I promise.” She threw the words at him like stones.

  She clicked the button on her key fob to unlock the car door. She didn’t turn to see if Mitch was still there, she just got into her car. He was right. She didn’t belong here anymore. Right now all she cared about was being hit with two bad superstitions in a twelve hour period.

  “This can’t be good.” Maggie referred to Tommy’s toast. Everyone in Grandberry Falls knew that you always take a drink after the toast before you put it down. She knew Mitch sat his down without taking a drink on purpose.

  She slumped over her steering wheel, her eyes focused on the lights flickering through the bar windows with Mitch nowhere to be seen, leaving her with an inexplicable feeling of emptiness.

  Chapter 6

  Superstition: It’s bad luck to tell your dreams before breakfast.

  When the rooster crowed, Maggie jumped. She’d forgotten where she was—for just a moment. When she came home last night, Hazel had already gone to bed and Belle stayed at the Thirsty Turtle doing God-knows-what.

  Maggie knocked the quilt off as the coffee aroma danced around the bedroom. Hazel wasn’t all that quiet. Maggie was sure Hazel was in the kitchen cooking up a good breakfast for her.

  She pulled on her sweats and listened for the clanking of the cast iron skillet, but there wasn’t a sound. Maybe a little scuffle here and there, but definitely nothing that sounded like pots and pans.

  As soon as she opened the door, Hazel yelled, “I’m glad you’re up. We are meeting a few folks down at the Fatted Pig for breakfast. You coming before you leave?”

  Maggie scratched her head. Since when did Sunday morning breakfast consist of the Fatted Pig? Hazel has always made Maggie a big home-made breakfast before she headed back to New York.

  Something wasn’t right. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but she wasn’t in the mood to fight today.

  Maggie didn’t even look to see if Belle was home. She needed a hot shower and there wasn’t a better shower then the one at Hazel’s.

  The pink tile bathroom was a dream when Maggie was a little girl. Her father told her every princess needed a pink bathroom. When Maggie was older, she found out the tile was on sale and no matter how much money Hazel had, she was still cheap.

  Maggie turned the built-in heater to medium. The room would be nice and toasty when she stepped out of the shower. Hoping to steam off last night’s disaster, Maggie took her time. She had a couple of hours before she needed to leave. Her plan was to pack her car and leave straight from the Fatted Pig.

  The swoosh of cold air rushed underneath the thin shower liner.

  “Maggie, we will see you there.”

  Maggie let the water rush down her face with her eyes closed. Hazel was acting really weird. Before, Hazel would have never left without her. Maggie didn’t have it in her to fight. She was ready to get this breakfast over, and get out of town. She didn’t take the time to enjoy the rest of her shower. With straight hair, it was easy to pull up, and with a t-shirt, jeans and flip-flops, she was out the door in no time.

  Maggie maneuvered her Volvo C70 through the back streets. She wanted to stop by the cemetery on her way to breakfast. That was one thing she made sure she did while in town. Maggie was certain her life would be different if her parents were still alive.

  Whenever she told someone her mother died while giving Maggie life, she got the same reaction time after time. ‘Awww, poor baby. I bet it was hard growing up without a mother.’ Even though her dad and Hazel did all they could to compensate for it, Maggie still felt the loss.

  Rock-Fence Cemetery was as old as Grandberry Falls. Some of the old tombs that had tumbled to the ground were a sad sight for Maggie. She imagined what it would look like years from now when she would (rarely) be back in Grandberry Falls. Hazel did what she could to tend to Maggie’s parent’s graves, but Belle was too busy running the Hair Pin. She couldn’t bear to have her parent’s tombs all crumbled in the grass.

  The two artificial orange Gerber Daisies sat in the seat next to her. Real flowers never have kept fresh on the drive down from NYC. Besides, they would die in a couple days and the thought o
f having something die on top of what already was dead wasn’t an image Maggie wanted to live with.

  At least these would stay pretty for awhile. No one was here this early as she made her way down the cemetery drive. There were some names she recognized and some she didn’t. She looked at the graves next to her father. Dozier.

  Mitch’s parent’s, too, had passed and Maggie was there for him as he had been for her. Many nights her father enjoyed spending time with Mitch’s father in his garage working on cars or anything with a motor.

  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 c
ome 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.