Impossible Dreams (4 page)

Headley had almost single-handedly made Holm’s Grill a
success. Three decades ago, before the law allowed liquor sales by the drink,
the reporter had adopted a seat at the corner of the restaurant counter where
he could pull the flask of bourbon from his coat pocket and view the comings
and goings of the town from the front window. A decade later, when the liquor
law changed and the new mahogany bar was installed, Headley was their first
customer. Every neighborhood bar needed at least one eccentric character to
meet and greet regular patrons, and to provide a stability they could count on
in their ever-changing worlds, and Headley was Holm’s.

The front window and the tavern had long ago fallen beneath
the treads of a bulldozer, but Headley lingered on, fifty pounds heavier than
his youthful self, his full head of hair now a distinguished white. His nose
for gossip hadn’t deteriorated a bit.

“I can see that.” The reporter focused his sharp
blue gaze in Axell’s direction. “Did you know the ABC board is
investigating your liquor license?”

Oh, shit. Axell rolled his eyes skyward as he remembered the
altercation the police had to break up last month. A perfectly harmless
catfight between two country-club matrons over a man not worth either of their
time had deteriorated into a brawl among the other patrons after a particularly
drunken evening of race-car watching in the bar. On top of the robbery in the
parking lot the month before, he could see the train of the law enforcement
mind, especially if egged on by a concerned citizen, like the mayor. If they
took his license, he’d be ruined. The mayor’s campaign against him
seemed to be taking a particularly nasty turn. Should he reconsider his vote
against the parking lot access?

“Was there some reason I ever agreed to serve on the
town council?” he asked of the ceiling.

“Besides your civic duty?” Headley inquired with
a touch of irony. “How about that zoning change you wanted to stop that
seedy hotel down your way from reopening?”

“Yeah, the one the mayor owns.” Axell sighed and
returned his gaze to Headley. “Maybe I should run for mayor next
time.”

Headley whistled in appreciation. “Good idea. Hometown
boy makes good with squeaky-clean record. Marry that ice maiden you keep as
hostess, parade her to church on your arm with your little girl, and
you’re a shoo-in.”

Headley had all but the marriage part right. Axell had
learned the hard way that marriage wreaked a havoc in his life that he
wasn’t properly qualified to cope with, and no amount of civic duty would
reconcile him to making that mistake again.

Besides, his daughter hated Katherine and would sooner
accompany a salamander to church.

Remembering the light in his daughter’s eyes as she
mentioned her after-school teacher, Axell grimaced and rubbed his hand over his
face. He had some recollection of the prior owner of that junk shop being
arrested on drug charges. Had the gypsy woman mentioned something about a
sister?

Maybe he better investigate his daughter’s
after-school teacher a little further. The astrology mumbo-jumbo was bad
enough. He didn’t need Constance becoming enraptured with drug dealers.

He dropped his head in his hands. His life would become a
fishbowl if he ran for mayor. Constance had enough problems without that kind
of scrutiny.

They’d both have worse problems if he lost his alcohol
license and his business.

Hell, maybe he ought to close the school.

Except — for the first time in two years — Constance was talking
again, and the blamed schoolteacher was the reason.

If — a two letter word for futility.

“Look, girl, if Axell Holm offered to help us,
we’d be fools to turn him away. Do you want the school to close?”

Maya huddled the phone receiver against her ear and stroked
Matty’s hair. He’d had a nightmare, and she’d carried him
into the big water bed with her a little while ago. He’d fallen directly
to sleep once he was beside her, so she couldn’t complain. His learning
disabilities caused some frustration — mostly for her because she blamed Cleo for
the stress that caused his lack of attention — but for the most part, he was the
soul of sweetness. Matty seldom gave her reason for complaint.

Life, on the other hand, was a real roller coaster ride.

She stared up at the cracked ceiling of her sister’s
shop apartment. The tiny salary the school partnership paid was the only
shoestring keeping her off welfare. Cleo’s shop was in such financial
ruin, it scarcely earned enough to cover outstanding debts, although the free
apartment was a boon. No, she couldn’t afford to see the school close.

“Why can’t you talk to him? You know more about
this town and running a business than I do. He’s a
Virgo
, Selene.
We don’t even speak the same language.”

“Honey, I hate to tell you, but you don’t talk
the same language as
anybody
around here. I don’t know what they
taught you out there in California, but it flat out has nothing to do with the
Carolinas. You want to make it in this town, you’d better learn to talk
the talk.”

If
. Maya closed her eyes and wrinkled her nose. That
was a mighty big if. She and Cleo had spent the better part of their lives
drifting from town to town, house to house, like tumbleweeds, never knowing the
meaning of roots. Unlike the Axell Holms of this world, they had no place to
call their own and no reason to stay anywhere.

She’d always figured wherever she slept was home.
Glancing down at the sleeping five-year-old beside her warned she had a
different responsibility now. Until Cleo was free, Wadeville was home. By then,
the dream of a school would probably be in ruins, and she could move on. Maybe
Stephen would have won a Grammy by then, and she could hit him for child
support. She could always hitch a ride on dreams.

Grimacing, she dropped back to reality. “All right.
I’ll talk to him, but I think he’s looking for a compromise, and
I’m warning you now, Selene, I don’t do compromise. If you’re
going to make me swim upstream, baby, I swim hard.”

Selene sighed into the phone. “Heaven forbid I should
understand what that means. If you’re going to be a partner in this
business, you have to do what’s best for all. I’m holding you to
that.”

Maya wrinkled her nose as she hung up the phone a few
minutes later. Her Pisces nature really preferred going with the flow over
swimming upstream, but she had others to think of besides herself now. For
Matty and the baby, she’d jump waterfalls and dams. Talking to a stuck-up
yuppie couldn’t be that difficult.

***

“Axell, dear, I know you try, but it’s quite
obvious Constance is unhappy. You have your hands full running a
business
” — the
word quivered with disapproval — “and with the town council, and besides,
you’re a
man
. You can’t possibly understand the needs of a
little girl. She needs a mother.”

His mother-in-law patted the gray silk cushion beside her,
offering him a seat, but Axell preferred his distance. He was certain Sandra
was a very nice woman. He’d never seen evidence otherwise, although
admittedly, since she’d moved to Texas, he hadn’t seen much of her
at all. That she’d traveled all the way back here to have this
confrontation aroused his suspicions.

“You haven’t worried about Constance in the last
two years. What brings you back here now?” He didn’t mean to sound
impolite, but he hadn’t the patience to work around to her motives.
He’d had his fill of game playing with Angela.

“I’ve always worried about her,” Sandra
protested, tapping her beringed fingers on the cushion. “I had just hoped
she’d recover from Angela’s death by now.” She hesitated,
obviously looking for the right words for her next attack.

Axell supplied them for her. “But obviously my cold,
uncaring nature isn’t what Constance needs.” Fighting the guilt and
pain that washed over him every time he thought of his late wife, Axell braced
his hand on the marble mantel Angela had chosen when they’d built this
palace. “Angela made the complaint more than once. I haven’t forgotten.”

“Angela loved you,” Sandra said placatingly.
“But you were so busy all the time...”

Damn, but it was as if the last two years hadn’t
happened, and he was slammed right back into one of those ever-running
arguments Angela had hit him with every night when he came home. He
didn’t need this. Angela was dead. She’d died two years ago driving
too fast on a rain-slick highway. She’d been furious with him at the
time. He hadn’t understood her fury then any more than he did now. He
just knew the guilt she’d left behind.

“Look, Sandra, Constance is my daughter. She’s
lost one parent. I’ll be damned if she’ll lose another. I know you
mean well...”

Beneath her professionally styled blond coif, Sandra
frowned. “Axell, I’m prepared to get tough about this. Constance is
my only grandchild. I’ll never have another. I want what’s best for
her, and I can provide it. She’s not happy here; anyone can see that. I
don’t see that’s there any room for argument.”

Axell clenched his fists. He wasn’t a man who lost
control of his emotions. If his late wife were to be believed, he didn’t
have emotions.

“I don’t know who you’ve been talking to,
but they cannot possibly know everything that goes on in this household.
I’ve found her a very good after-school program, and she’s opening
up nicely. Her teacher says she’s quite talented.” He didn’t
need to mention that the teacher was a space cadet.

Sandra looked disbelieving. “When even your neighbors
notice a child’s unhappiness, there has to be something wrong. We could
just do this on a trial basis.”

Maybe she was right. Maybe Constance did need a mother
figure. She was only eight, but Axell recognized that little girls wanted
someone to paint their fingernails and braid their hair and hear their secrets,
and he was no damned good at it. Even if she’d been a tomboy who loved
climbing trees and fishing, he wouldn’t be of much use. He’d spent
his life between books and the bar. The only time he’d ever been fishing
was at Boy Scout camp as a kid. He’d fallen in the lake and never bothered
again. The principles of fishing were as illogical as women, and he
didn’t have the patience for either.

Damn
Angela for dying and leaving him helpless.

Hating the feeling of inadequacy, Axell rubbed his hand over
his face and nodded. “Give me time to think about it. I want to talk to
Constance first. How long do you plan to stay? I can arrange someone to come in
and fix meals...”

Sandra rose from the couch. “I’ll be staying
with Elizabeth Arnold. I wouldn’t wish to put you out, dear. Whatever do
you do for meals when I’m not here?”

Elizabeth Arnold, the mayor’s mother. The last piece
of puzzle plunked in place. Axell gritted his teeth and forced a polite smile.
“We eat at the bar.”

He really shouldn’t have said that. Sandra’s
artfully made-up face dropped two inches. People never knew when he was
kidding. The bar’s opening twenty years ago had been so scandalous,
everyone still referred to it as such, even though he’d expanded into the
biggest restaurant in the county. Suddenly anxious to be rid of her, Axell
didn’t bother erasing her impression of Constance snacking on peanuts
while whirling on bar stools.

As soon as his mother-in-law scurried into the night, Axell
switched off the lights and walked upstairs.

His heart plummeted as he saw the spectral blur of a white
nightgown darting into Constance’s bedroom. The click of the door lock
fastening echoed down the hall.

She’d heard everything. And he had no words to
explain.

***

“Well, did you talk with him?” Selene hissed as
Maya entered the school in the company of a trio of chirping new arrivals.

“No, I haven’t,” Maya hissed back,
removing school backpacks and tucking them into their appropriate lockers.

As the children raced to the workroom, she straightened with
a hand to her aching back. “Cleo’s social worker arrived to check
on Matty’s environment and to verify I’m not passed out on drugs or
otherwise behaving down to her opinion of me. It’s not the very best time
of my life to get pregnant.”

It had been downright stupid, as a matter of fact.
She’d known better than to trust Stephen. Next time, she was taking the
pill.
Next time?
She’d be old and gray before she trusted another
man that way again.

Selene clucked sympathetically. “You had no way of
knowing your sister would get put away. Did you tell the worker pretty
stories?”

Maya brightened. “I did. Stephen is now a respectable
musician who travels a lot in his line of work. His income is sometimes
erratic, but we’re expecting a large royalty check soon, only I
don’t think Matty’s ready to move from his familiar environment
yet. Did I do good?”

“You did good, girl. I can tell you spent time in the
system. Did she buy that?”

Maya shrugged and jerked a ribbon from her jumper pocket to
tie back her tangle of curls. “She’s not happy that Matty
doesn’t have a male authority figure, and she thinks I should put my
teaching certificate to more respectable use. I might
know
the system,
but I never fit in it, I’m afraid.”

“That’s all right. We’ve got a good thing
here and we’ll make a mint when we franchise it in a few years. You just
hold on till then.”

Maya whistled the refrain from “The Impossible
Dream” in reply and wandered back to the children.

A few hours later, sitting at the kitchen table with Matty
muttering about Big Macs while grudgingly chomping a soy burger, Maya stared at
her list of figures and sighed inwardly. She could never break even. Not in a
thousand million years. She’d never been any good with money because
she’d never had any, and Cleo’s finances gave new meaning to the word
“bankrupt.”