Only In His Sweetest Dreams (Secret Dreams Book 2)

by Dani Collins

  Dana—they had arrived at using first names—nodded.

  “These things are never easy, are they? But if there’s anything we can do, documents or letters of recommendation?” She seemed so anxious to help. It was weird. “Dayton’s improvement as a result of the tutoring speaks very highly of your dedication to making a difference in his life. I’d be happy to draft a letter to that effect.”

  “Thanks, but I don’t know if it’ll be necessary. Or have any bearing. I don’t know what’s going to happen.” She sat across from the Principal, looking into empathetic eyes, and couldn’t find the will to move. She was fighting tears. “This is going to kill my sister.”

  Chapter 24

  Am I doing the right thing?

  The question plagued Mercedes as she threw together ballots and membership lists and copied bios for the candidates running for Coconino’s new board.

  She was so deep on automatic pilot, she almost didn’t catch the agenda item until she read through the printed copy for spelling errors. Then it jumped out at her: Bylaw regarding Managers with Children.

  She lifted her head, looking for a board member among the early birds filing in for a good seat. Mrs. Garvey stood on the far side of the cantina, arranging papers on a table.

  Mercedes strode in to confront her, the agenda trembling in her white-knuckled grasp. “What’s this?”

  Mrs. Garvey’s spine stiffened at Mercedes’s tone. She lifted the glasses that hung from a chain around her neck and read.

  “That item was tabled from our monthly meeting to the next general meeting.” She lowered her glasses. “You know that.”

  “But you said yesterday... I had the impression you supported my effort to keep Dayton and Ayjia.” Mercedes worked to keep her voice civil, rather than hysterical.

  “I do. The existing board does, and we intend to put this to vote before the elections. However, the entire community deserves the right to weigh in on this issue, Mercedes. You must see that.”

  “Not today.” Her tone was not unlike Dayton’s when he was particularly tired and unhappy. This was horrendous. “The social worker is coming. I can’t be in here to—to say anything.”

  Mrs. Garvey fiddled with the collar of her dress. “I feel very strongly about this.”

  “So do I!” Mercedes waved the paper. “And I can’t believe you plan to do this while I’m at the other end of the complex, asking to keep custody of children that apparently I won’t be able to house or feed if I don’t have a job!”

  “You are not improving your position,” Mrs. Garvey warned in a shaking tone.

  “Mercedes.” Mrs. Yamamoto touched her elbow. “Did you eat your breakfast today? Here, you sit. I will see what Carla has behind the counter. Clam chowder, I think. Doesn’t that sound good? Mmm. Very nutritious.” She toddled away.

  Mercedes plopped into a chair and folded forward on the table, hiding from the blinking faces staring at her. Ducking from the idea of clam chowder—yuck—on an empty stomach. Buckling under the weight of what was to come.

  She couldn’t cry, couldn’t give in yet. She hadn’t even gotten to the hard part yet.

  “I was wrong,” Mrs. Yamamoto said, clinking something onto the table. “Today is corn chowder, but she also had Jell-o. Orange. That’s a nice one. My favorite. Here, you eat.”

  Mercedes sat up and looked at the two bowls, reaching for the gelatin because the soup looked like vomit.

  “How am I to react to such an outburst?” Mrs. Garvey said above and behind her. “What does she expect? We can’t ignore our responsibility to the entire community.”

  Mercedes set down her spoon. “I have to go,” she said and pushed to her feet. “Here. The copies still have to be made. The rest is on my desk. You handle this whatever way you need to.”

  “Whichever,” she heard Mrs. Garvey correct under her breath.

  With a little snort, Mercedes responded with a silent, whatever and walked out.

  She had to collect Porsha from the pool on her way back to the unit.

  “I just got here,” Porsha complained, then lifted her sunglasses and grinned. “Some old perv whistled at me.”

  “Lucky you. Listen, the social worker will be at my place any minute. We have to go talk to her.”

  Porsha groaned and sat up. “Can’t you do it?”

  “She’ll want to hear your plans for the kids,” Mercedes said, stomach flipping.

  “I’m thinking my plan is to get a suntan right here while they finish school. We should’ve stayed here with you before.”

  “There wasn’t room in the apartment,” Mercedes reminded and quelled a shudder at how long Porsha might stay now that there was an extra bedroom. Her sister had been in her home for twenty-four hours and it was driving Mercedes crazy. Stuff everywhere, the water jug never refilled, not a single dish washed or put away. “Come on.”

  Porsha moaned again and climbed off the lounger, picked up her towel and gave it a little shake before wrapping it around the bottom of her thong bikini. “Hey, do you have anything for cramps?” she asked, but touched her forehead.

  “I’ll find you something back at the house.” Mercedes waited for her sister to clank out of the gate and join her.

  “Look at you, dressed for success,” Porsha said, eyeing Mercedes’s blouse, skirt and heels.

  Mercedes had dressed for her power meeting with the Vice-Principal, thinking she might also have to attend the Coconino AGM.

  “The social worker’s gonna think you’re a lawyer and I’m a stripper,” Porsha added with a chuckle.

  Mercedes smiled weakly.

  They walked in silence for a moment, the breeze light, the sun warm, the complex quiet because most people had made their way to the meeting in the front building.

  “Ayjia told me Harrison died. That was that writer guy you liked so much? The one who wrote that book you gave me?” Porsha asked.

  “That’s right.”

  “That’s awful, Merce.” Porsha put her bare arm around Mercedes. She smelled of sun lotion and cigarettes, but the hug felt sincere. “Losing people we care about sucks.”

  Mercedes wanted to shrink into a sewer hole and die.

  “Hey, Ray finally called back,” Porsha said, dropping the hug to adjust her towel. “He’s still excited about having us come to Phoenix after school finishes.”

  Mercedes made a non-committal noise and waved at Shonda as she passed them on the Ring Road. Shonda was climbing from her car in the driveway by the time Mercedes and Porsha reached the house.

  “I have never considered dreads to be a good look on anybody,” Porsha murmured, obviously looking for a laugh. For an ally.

  Mercedes said nothing, just led both women into the cool interior of the house. “Iced tea?”

  “That sounds fabulous,” Shonda said in a tone of relief, and introduced herself to Porsha. “I’ve met the children a few times. I’m really growing to appreciate Dayton’s energy and sense of humor. And Ayjia is such a caring little soul.”

  “Yeah, she’s my little hug machine,” Porsha said, accepting the dewy glass Mercedes handed her and taking a seat in the armchair without bothering to change. She crossed her legs and swung her foot.

  Shonda sat on one end of the sofa. Mercedes took the other. She sipped once on her syrupy drink then set it aside to knot her hands and let Shonda take the lead.

  “So I see your main source of income is the check Dayton’s father sends. Mercedes tells me you lost your apartment because the payment was switched to her.”

  “Yeah, can you fix that like, yesterday? Because Ayjia is all over me about her stuffies going missing.”

  “I called the building manager this morning,” Mercedes said. “Your things are in storage until the end of this month. I just have to pay the fee and we can get everything.”

  “Oh. Cool.” Porsha took a deep pull on her tea. Her foot kicked faster. She wasn’t as calm as she wanted to appear.

  Mercedes massaged her hands together,
trying to work heat into her cold fingers.

  “Now, where do you plan to live once you do that?” Shonda asked Porsha.

  “Well, um.” Porsha took another nervous sip. “I’m staying here with the kids while they finish school. That’s important.” She cleared her throat. “Then we’ll be staying with a friend in Phoenix.”

  “I see.” Shonda wet her full lips while making notes on her clipboard. “Do you intend to look for work? When do you think you’ll be able to live on your own?”

  “Well, um, the hope is obviously that I won’t have to, if things work out the way I want them to with my friend in Phoenix. Know what I mean?”

  Shonda nodded thoughtfully and watched Porsha as she asked, “And if things don’t work out?”

  “Then, obviously, I figure it out.” Porsha set down her empty drink and re-crossed her legs. “Look, he’s a nice guy. It’s going to be fine. I don’t understand why you’re grilling me like this.”

  “I don’t mean to grill you, Porsha,” Shonda said, and Mercedes saw her sister tense. “But because of your absence these last few weeks—”

  “I was on vacation. I left my kids with my sister. I didn’t leave them in a dumpster, for God’s sake.”

  Actually, she’d left them with their grandmother, which was as good as a dumpster, but Mercedes didn’t say so. She just clutched her bloodless hands together, feeling nausea climb in the back of her throat.

  “No, you didn’t. That’s right. You left them with someone who cares about their well-being and that’s great, but because you were absent so long, and Ayjia needed medical care, Mercedes had to take temporary custody. Essentially that put your children in foster care. Yes, they’re with family and this is the best possible scenario for something like this, but the State still has an interest in the welfare of your children.”

  “Therefore, I have to pass some kind of test before I can have my kids back?”

  “The state needs reasonable assurance that the children will have their physical and emotional needs met, yes.”

  “Well.” Porsha snorted and waved a hand toward Mercedes. “Tell ‘er, Merce. The kids will be fine.”

  Mercedes tried to swallow, but her throat was too dry. She glanced once at Shonda’s doe eyes and then looked at her sister. “Actually,” she cleared her throat. “I was thinking the kids could stay here while you see how things work out with Ray.”

  Porsha didn’t move for a couple of heartbeats, then her sandals hit the floor and she leaned forward. “‘Scuse me?”

  “I want to keep custody of the kids, Porsha.”

  “Are you out of your fucking mind? I’m their mother.”

  “Just until you and Ray work things out. Or you get settled in your own place. And have a job. And maybe do a rehab program,” she added in a quick, merciless set of jabs.

  “Did you just call me a fucking drunk?” She pushed forward to the edge of her chair.

  “This isn’t just about booze.” Mercedes held out a staying hand that trembled. She could barely talk. “They just got settled in the school here—”

  “School is fucking out! It’s summer. They can come with me to Phoenix and start a new school in the fall. Fuck off with talking about school.”

  “They’re making friends here. They’re not two anymore. They feel it when they’re uprooted.” Mercedes briefly wondered what was happening at the general meeting, whether she would have to uproot the kids herself. She opened pleading palms to her sister. “They need stability and consistency. Having to deal with another new town, another new school, a new guy in a home that doesn’t even belong to them—”

  “This is not their home. I am their home. Just because you can afford new friggin’ bunk beds instead of the ones from the thrift store does not mean you’re giving them a better home. How can she do this?” Porsha stood to confront Shonda, grabbing to secure her towel as she did. “She can’t do this, can she? You can’t let her.”

  “I didn’t give Mercedes custody of your children, Porsha. The courts did. You certainly have the right to ask for that decision to be reversed.”

  “I have to go to court to get my kids?” One side of her towel fell away, so she stood nearly naked, trembling with outrage and what Mercedes thought might be fear. “I’m not a fucking criminal. I’m their mother.” She whirled on Mercedes. “That’s what this is about, isn’t it? You can’t have kids of your own so you’re trying to steal mine.”

  Even though Mercedes had known that missile would come flying at her at some point, it still landed square on her heart and exploded it into a million pieces.

  Edward discovered her where she’d barricaded herself in the copy room. “I believe everyone is ready and waiting,” he said.

  “Why am I always painted the villain?” Edith asked him in a low tone, still staring at the copy machine as she voiced the pain that wouldn’t stifle. “I only try to do what’s right. I’m serving my position as temporary President in the best way I know how.”

  “You’re not a villain, Edith.” He took her shoulders and gently turned her to face him. “It’s our generation. It has never allowed for strong women or weak men. We are destined to be misunderstood.”

  “You’re not weak, Edward. Don’t you dare say such a thing about yourself.” She set her hand in the middle of his chest. It was remarkably firm and held a heart that hadn’t suffered any arrests, according to the chit-chat they’d exchanged over ice cream with Dayton the other night. “You’re shy and caring, but not weak. Never.”

  “Well, you’re certainly no villain.”

  “But Mercedes is so angry with me.” The young woman’s fury had cut surprisingly deep, not just because it had been in public, but because it had been so sincere. Mercedes had hated that old prude Garvey. Edith had felt it.

  “Mercedes is scared,” Edward corrected, massaging. “She loves the children and she doesn’t want to lose them, even though she feels morally bound to give them up. Much the way you don’t want to lose them, but feel it’s your duty to put their staying here with her to a vote.”

  “I do. It would be a c-conflict of interest if I didn’t. But that Dayton. He needs a firm hand, but he’s a wonderful boy. So bright and such a wit. I don’t want to stop teaching him.” She pressed her knuckles to her trembling lips.

  “So champion them, Edith. You might have to put it to a vote, but there’s no reason you can’t petition for the result you want.” He winked.

  A glimmer of optimism rose in her. “I would love to have you sit on the board with me, Edward. Is there any chance I could persuade you to run?”

  “None,” he said promptly. “But I’m very good at handing out agendas and acting as an objective resource for Robert’s Rules.” He nodded at the papers she had yet to take off the copier. “Shall I take care of distributing those while you call the meeting to order?

  The weather was clear and sunny with a soft breeze.

  L.C. had a root beer beside him, a practice test in hand, and some Number Two pencils balanced in the grooves of his sister’s deck. Zack was mountain biking with a friend, Paige had just left for the factory, and L.C. had the house to himself. Mostly. Brit would be here soon to pick up the babies. For now, the girls played on the grass in front of him, climbing the short, fat jungle gym and sliding down the slide, happy as spring lambs.

  How Liebe Falls had turned into Mayberry in two short years, L.C. didn’t understand, but it had. Paige’s mother-in-law, a viper of the highest quality, regularly dropped off baked goods and casseroles while praising Paige’s parenting skills. The factory was making money, thanks to Paige’s accounting skills, he was sure, but Sterling probably had a few things to do with it as well. Either way, their overhaul of the main source of the town’s employment was revitalizing the community, lifting a mood of depression no one had noticed until it was gone. Even Britta’s cop husband had shaken L.C.’s hand and said it was nice to see him.

  How could they all be so damned content? What L.C. wouldn’t giv
e to hear an old fart complaining someone had nicked his parking stall with a golf cart.

  Catching Elizabeth picking up a pebble, L.C. warned, “Not in your mouth, Lizzie Beth.”

  The door opened behind him. He glanced to see Britta had let herself in the front and found them out the back.

  “Mommy!” Lindsay said with a big grin.

  “A’bee!” Elizabeth said.

  “Hey babies. How you doin’?” The fringe on Brit’s blouse swayed as she lowered to sit beside L.C. on the steps. “Where’s Paige?”

  “Had to see a man about a factory.”

  She checked her watch. “Why aren’t you at work?”

  “I’m consulting. That means I work when I feel like it.”

  “And this differs from the old days, how?”

  “Oooh,” he said with a little chuckle of appreciation. Talk about old times. “Is that how we’re starting the day? Because Paige puked before she left. Your husband’s going to lose his bet. I guess I should have come home sooner. At least with me, you get guaranteed results inside of three minutes.”

  “You never change, do you?” She tried for contempt, but she was smug as she said, “Your assistance is not required, thank you.”

  “Britta Fay, you did not just tell me your special news before you told your husband and best friend.”

  She grinned wider. Prouder. “Cam knows, but Paige doesn’t. She really puked? That’s perfect, don’t you think? Both of us pregnant? A pair of boys would be nice, but we’ll take what we get.” Her dozen silver rings flashed with colorful bracelets and the pretty smile he’d fallen for back when he was a kid aching for someone to love him.

  “Yeah, you’re all living happy ever after,” he said, not begrudging them the tidy perfection of their lives. Not really. It was nice. He just wished he wasn’t standing on the outside the way he always had been. It was such an enigma to him. Something he doubted he would ever truly know. Or possess.