Impossible Dreams (7 page)

She studied her customer more carefully, finding little of
elfin Constance in this polished matron. Women like this had to be stamped out
with cookie cutters: lacquered coiffures, gleaming lipstick, fashionable
designer suits, sensible pumps, and figures maintained by tennis, golf, and
private pools. Nothing about her screamed “maternal” or “loving”
or even “imaginative.” A child with an active mind like Constance
needed creative parenting. She should know; she’d been one.

“Children of eight love fantasy,” Maya responded
quietly. She’d already ticked off Axell today. She didn’t need to
alienate his mother-in-law. “Most of the ones who come in here love the
kaleidoscopes. We have an assortment of varying artistic quality. The more
expensive are handmade. For a child of eight...”

“Kaleidoscopes have no purpose.” She waved away
the suggestion with a manicured hand adorned with a diamond as big as a
robin’s egg. “Do you have any dolls? Books, perhaps?”

Maya had never known Constance to show any interest in the
dolls at school, and this wasn’t a toy store. Reining in her impatience,
shifting from one aching foot to the other, she clung to her pleasant demeanor.
“There’s a wonderful children’s book store just down the
street. We don’t try to compete with them.”

“But Constance says this is her favorite store. Surely
you must have something.”

The woman seemed genuinely puzzled, as she should be,
perhaps. Cleo’s shop was cluttered and full of weird objects some of
whose purpose even Maya couldn’t discern, which was precisely why
children adored it.

This was a small town. Use it to advantage, a small voice
whispered in her ear. Maybe Fate had steered this woman in here for a reason.
Having been victim of it often enough, Maya had a healthy respect for Fate.

“If you mean Constance Holm, I’m pleased to meet
you. I’m Maya Alyssum, her after-school teacher. Constance is a delightful
child.”

The woman looked startled, then wary as she took in
Maya’s thrift shop maternity jumper and unfashionable shawl.
“Pleased to meet you,” she said uncertainly, not offering her hand.

Accustomed to that reaction, Maya shrugged it off and removed
the crystal ball from the counter case. “I wouldn’t recommend this
for most eight-year-olds, but Constance has her father’s carefulness with
material things. She adores crystals and this globe fascinates her. I can
guarantee hugs in return for this gift.”

Instead of looking at the crystal, the woman studied Maya.
“You’re a teacher?”

Alarm bells clamored at her veiled note of disdain, but Maya
merely smiled more brightly. “Masters in early childhood education. I was
working forty hours a week at the time so I missed Phi Beta Kappa, but
otherwise, my credentials are quite astonishing. The public university
didn’t require Liz Claiborne suits for a passing grade,” she
finished dryly in the face of her customer’s visible disbelief.

The bell over the door clamored as it swung in on a spring
breeze and the healthy shove of an exuberant teenager. “Hey, Maya,
Matty’s dragons are cool. Could you paint some on my shoes?”

“Even Miss Kidd likes ’em,” Matty
announced proudly, releasing the teenager’s hand and hurrying over to
display his red dragon for general inspection. “Shelly says they’s
better ’an smiley faces.” He beamed with delight.

Matty’s happiness melted Maya into a warm puddle of
mush. Not in the months since his mother’s arrest and his aunt’s
arrival had he shown any evidence of pure childhood pleasure. That something so
simple as a silly dragon could produce it, a dragon she had created, engulfed
her with pride.

“Well, when we get your new sneakers, we’ll have
to paint even bigger dragons on them,” she declared. “We’d
better hurry over to the store before we go see Miss Selene.”

Daringly deciding Matty’s happiness was more important
than impressing her condescending customer, Maya handed the crystal ball to her
clerk. “Teresa, if you would help Constance’s grandmother,
I’d appreciate it.”

Wiping the dust off her hands with a towel she kept for the
purpose, she emerged from behind the counter. Not wishing to encounter the
unpleasant sight of her customer’s mouth hanging open in shock, Maya
simply took Matty’s hand and swept out the door. Burning bridges was her
specialty.

***

They found a practically new pair of padded athletic shoes
at the Salvation Army store around the corner from the shop. Matty displayed
them proudly to Selene and anyone else who expressed interest after they
arrived at school. At one point during the afternoon he wore one dragon shoe
and one new shoe. A five-year-old’s ability to take pleasure in simple
things warmed Maya’s scarred and jaded heart.

It didn’t, however, warm her wallet, she thought as
they headed home to an empty refrigerator. She’d spent her last
five-dollar bill on the shoes. She hated to ask Selene for an advance on her
salary. She’d been trying to use the proceeds from the shop to slowly pay
off the mountain of bills in Cleo’s mail, but if it came down to a choice
between borrowing from the till or feeding Matty, she’d have to choose
the latter, she decided as their ride stopped the car at their street corner.

Trying to remember how many eggs remained in the
apartment’s little refrigerator and wondering if a withered bell pepper
and a piece of onion counted as vegetables, Maya wearily helped Matty from the
back seat and waved farewell to the mother of one of her students. Living only
a few blocks from the town’s main highway into the city had the advantage
of being on the route to almost everyone’s home. If Selene wasn’t
available, she could usually count on a ride from the last parent to pick their
child up at school.

Her back ached, her feet hurt, and her empty stomach demanded
more than an egg for supper. She couldn’t deny the child inside her womb
any more than she could deny Matty. She’d have to raid the day’s
profits and go to the grocery. If Teresa had pulled off the crystal ball sale,
there should actually be money in the till for a change, but it was probably in
the form of credit card paper. She couldn’t count on too many customers
paying cash.

Wishing for the luxury of a decadent Big Mac as they walked
the final block between the highway and home, Maya wrinkled her nose at the
flash of blue lights reflecting off store windows and bouncing off brick walls.
She had nothing against the police, but the anarchy of her growing-up years had
inevitably painted those blue lights as symbols of turmoil in her mind.
Matty’s hand tightening around her fingers as he huddled closer warned he
wasn’t immune to them either.

She hated that. She wanted him to grow up secure in his
surroundings, not terrified of every new occurrence. Somehow, she would have to
teach him to trust in her ability to protect him against the world’s
unpleasantness.

Glancing down at her distended belly, Maya snorted in
derision. Like, right, she’d done such a good job of protecting herself.

Not until they turned the corner did she understand the full
extent of the disaster she’d been handed this time.

The entire front facade of Cleo’s shop lay in tumbled
heaps of old brick spilling across the street and sidewalk. Yellow police tape
blocked all access to their home.

***

If he hadn’t been watching for her, Axell might not
have noticed Maya in the growing dusk between the rows of buildings. As it was,
he caught a glimpse of orange-red in the halo of a street lamp, and hastened to
catch up with her. She had a kid with her. He hadn’t realized she had a
son. Both of them were so pale in the glow of the street light he feared
they’d faint.

“There’s nothing you can do right now.”
Axell caught Maya’s elbow, and felt her shivering through the cloth of
her thin blouse. The temperature dropped quickly once the sun set. “They
can’t let anyone past the police line until inspectors assess the damage.
It’s just the brick facade that fell, but they don’t know if
there’s underlying structural damage.”

“Muldoon?”

For a moment, Axell wondered if her mind had wandered. Her
voice trembled, and she hastily bit her bottom lip, but he could see her chin
quivering in a battle to fight tears. In a flash of some insane leap of logic,
he caught the connection. “The cat?” The black and white cat.
Muldoon had driven a black and white police car in some ancient TV show.

She nodded. The boy merely stared in wide-eyed silence at
the remains of his home. Unable to tolerate the vacuum of helplessness, Axell
pulled off his suit jacket and wrapped it around Maya’s shoulders. She
didn’t even seem aware that he’d done it.

“The cat’s probably fine. Only the bricks
collapsed, and they fell outward. I’ll have the cops keep an eye out. Do
you have anywhere else you can go for the night?”

She stared at him blankly for a minute, then apparently
registering the question, nodded. With that nod, he watched her almost visibly
discard the shroud of defeat, straighten her shoulders, and don the mantle of
blithe vivacity. “We have cots at the school. It’s just...”
She threw a wavering look at the crumbled building and continued bravely,
“We’ll need transportation.”

“You can’t sleep on a cot,” he said
impatiently. “Besides, that place is way out in the country without
security lights. It’s not safe for a woman alone. How about
family?”

She shot him a wry look that warned she was recovering from
the shock and told him of the asininity of his question. Her only family was in
jail.

“All right, let’s walk over to the restaurant
and get a bite to eat and think about it. I left Constance with the kitchen
staff. She’ll be wondering where I am.”

Surprised that she actually acquiesced without protest,
Axell steered Maya through the crowd of other shop owners and passersby and
warned the policeman in charge to watch for the cat. This was a small town.
People looked out for each other. He had confidence someone would take in the
cat. He wished he was equally confident about the teacher.

Thinking she looked so frail that he ought to be carrying
her, Axell did his best to adjust his steps to hers as they traversed the two
blocks to his bar. The lights from the tall narrow windows of the restaurant
glowed welcomingly as they approached, but as Axell’s step lightened,
Maya’s grew heavier.

“I can’t go in there like this.”

Finally, the protest he’d expected. In his experience,
women never agreed without argument. Some days, he wondered how women thought
the world had survived all these years without them running it. He recognized
the chauvinism of the thought, but there were days when he felt conspicuously
undervalued.

“Why not?” he demanded. “No one
bites.”

He couldn’t see the look she shot him and probably
couldn’t interpret it if he could.

“I have dragons on my shoes.”

Dragons. On her shoes. Axell closed his eyes and tried not
to groan. He’d offered the position of nanny to a lunatic.

“I gots dragons too,” Matty said in what sounded
like consolation as he offered up his shoes for inspection.

In the faint glimmering light of a distant street lamp,
Axell noted they both wore cheap sneakers and something did look particularly
outlandish about the toes.

Well, maybe it was better if he didn’t drag her
through the expensively dressed crowd of yuppies inside looking as if
she’d just been hit by a train. People would talk.

“We’ll go in through the rear door,” he
said, steering her down the alley.

As they hit the bright lights and bustle of the kitchen, the
delicate woman on Axell’s arm unfolded like a sunstruck rosebud. The
protective armor of her brilliant smile disguised her shattered fragility.

His staff stared as they entered. Axell could hear their minds
clicking already. He’d listened to the gossip churning behind these walls
for years and knew precisely how it worked. They’d either have Maya
labeled as a mistress he’d dumped or as a homeless waif he’d picked
up off the street. They’d have him with AIDS next and the mayor really
would shut down the bar.

Constance raced to his rescue. Crying “Miss
Alyssum!” she practically leaped into Maya’s arms.

“Hi, honey bear,” she answered softly, crouching
to hug the child. “You going to show us where your daddy works?”

That’s all it took to get her waited on, hand and
foot. The staff doted on Constance. To make her happy, they would have baked a
five-tiered cake and decorated it with diamonds. Fortunately for Axell’s
budget, Maya only required pasta and a salad. Matty tore into a hamburger as if
he hadn’t eaten in a week.

That thought gave Axell pause as he slipped into the seat
beside his daughter in the staff break room. The boy wasn’t precisely
skin and bones, but he wasn’t sturdy either. The clothes he wore were as
neat as could be expected of a five-year-old at the end of the day, but they
were a little too small and showed definite signs of wear.

His gaze drifted back to the schoolteacher. She wore the
maternity jumper she’d worn every time he’d seen her. Her fine-boned
features had a drawn look rather than the maternal glow one would expect, and
all the blood had drained from her normally pink lips. Her usual smile had
vanished now that she was behind closed doors, leaving her more vulnerable and
worried than he’d ever seen her.

“Insurance will take care of it,” he suggested,
knowing he pried where he had no business, but his insatiable curiosity needed
appeasing.

She stabbed a piece of Romaine and raised an eyebrow.
Checking to be certain Matty still chattered, oblivious to their conversation,
she shrugged. “Cleo hadn’t paid a bill in months when I arrived. I
can almost guarantee insurance isn’t an option.”

For whatever reason, Axell tried again. “She’s
just renting that place, isn’t she? I’d say most of the damage was
to the storefront, not the inventory. You can probably be back in business
elsewhere in a few weeks.”