Linny's Sweet Dream List (20 page)

“I agree,” said Linny, rubbing her temple with her fingers.

Her sister sounded determinedly upbeat. “Come with me tomorrow to Bobby's Hardware summer plant sale. He has these tables he calls the ‘Scratch and Dent.' They're full of beat up, wilted perennials that you can buy for cheap and nurse back to life. We can talk more and do something happy and productive while we're at it.”

She didn't feel happy and productive. She'd rather brood. But Linny glanced at the yard and saw the spiky pokeweed and crabgrass choking out the neglected flower beds. The weeds looked malevolent. She should yank them out, but it was going to be 106 degrees today, and the red clay ground was baked hard as cement. At least she could make a plan for adding color and life to the yard. Maybe this is what Indigo had in mind when she yammered on about serene surroundings calming troubled hearts. Linny sighed and muttered, “All right, all right. I don't feel like it, but all right.”

 

Later that morning, Linny still felt jangled while
creating serene surroundings
with two gallons of a paint called Lemon Cream. After finishing the bedroom, she stood back and admired her progress. The pick had been a good one. The room looked soft, sunny, and fresh.

Putting down her paint roller, she sank into Child's Pose and did a few side bends, trying to ease the knotted muscles in her back. Head resting on his paint-streaked paws, Roy blinked at her through the bars of his crate. She chided him as she rose. “No walking through paint pans. You're in the pokey.”

Even though she'd worked for hours, she still felt a sense of edgy restlessness. She needed exercise. Throwing on a pair of shorts and running shoes, Linny stepped into the sauna of the afternoon air, and did a jog, stumble, rest, and walk combination up and down the quarter -mile driveway and then did it again. Her heart pumped and her muscles complained. She slowed and trudged back to the trailer. Whew. Blowing back her bangs, she stepped into the coolness, and picked up the paint roller.

 

Dusk fell as Linny sat at the kitchen table with a Lean Cuisine, her bare feet resting on a snoring Roy's back. She flipped through an old family photo album, looking for clues. When had her parents' marriage faltered? When had her father gone rogue, choosing his work, his cronies, and a girlfriend over his family? When had he fallen out of love with Dottie? Or had he?

In many of the images taken when she and Kate were young, one or the other parent acted as photographer. The parent in the shot gazed at the photographer with looks that were flirtatious, amused, or knowing. In the photos of Boyd and Dottie together, they looked connected—his hand touched hers, she leaned her head on his shoulder, he gave her a playful look. They looked happy, or at least as happy as a young couple who were raising small children and working hard could be. Peering more closely, she looked for a picture that captured the moment when her father's love had died—when his eyes had looked hard, bored or irritated—but she found none. All the way up to Kate's college graduation, they looked like a normal, happy family. She tapped her mouth with a finger, puzzled. She needed to talk to Kate about it. Maybe if she got brave, she'd talk to her mother. Flipping the album shut, she rested her hands on it thoughtfully.

 

Kate slid into the car the next afternoon, wearing a seersucker sundress with her hair in two improbably short pigtails. “Thanks for driving.”

“Happy to,” Linny responded automatically, but glanced at her sister to size up her spirits.

Kate chattered, “The Scratch and Dent is a lot of fun. Last year, I put the perennials I bought on the porch and babied them for a few weeks. I planted them when it cooled off, and they did just fine. They took off this spring.”

She was rambling. Linny shot her sister a worried look. Ms. New Age Serene was just a little too chipper for having had her childhood memories trampled upon.

Kate gave her a sidelong glance. “How did you sleep?”

“Not well,” Linny admitted, rubbing her grainy eyes as she put the car in gear. “How about you?”

“Oh, like a lamb.” Kate lifted her chin and spoke with studied nonchalance. “Jerry called me about six last night to say he'd be running late. I was real sweet and understanding, then I packed a bag and spent the night all by myself at the Marriott.”

“What?” Linny stepped on the brake, and turned to look directly at her sister.

“It was very nice,” she said airily. “Watched premium cable until late.” Kate tapped the side of her head. “I finally got it. Jerry has to stop working so much, and has to get serious about taking better care of his health. It's not an option to go on the way he's going. I'm not going to let him be an absentee husband and father like Daddy was, or kill himself young and leave me alone.” Kate pushed a stray lock of hair behind her ears, and her chin jutted out. “I'm finished being nice.”

Linny nodded, impressed. “Good for you. What did Jerry think?”

“I left him a note telling him exactly where I was going and why. He kept calling me and calling me, but I didn't pick up. I let him twist in the wind. Finally this morning I took his call, and he tripped all over himself with apologies. We had a long talk when I got home. I told him this can't go on.” Her voice was steely.

“So he's agreed to the new plan.” Linny gave a relieved sigh, as she flicked on the blinker and accelerated onto the bypass.

“So he says. If he's not, I'm going back to the Marriott more frequently.”

“I'm proud of you.” Linny patted her arm. Sweet Kate could kick some behind when she wanted to. “So this showdown was triggered by what Mama told us?”

“Yup.” Kate nodded emphatically. “The marriage enrichment books I read say your parents' marriage is the blueprint for your marriage—the men you pick are based on what's familiar to you, and your need to sort out unfinished business.” She spoke with quiet intensity. “But it's not destiny. You don't need to repeat their mistakes. You can stop a crazy pattern. Deliberately do things differently if you know what you saw was unhealthy. That's what I'm going to do.”

Filled with admiration, Linny reached over and squeezed her sister's hand.

 

After an hour of blessed distraction, weaving up and down aisles of limp, tired-looking greenery, they loaded the Volvo with bedraggled verbena, lavender, speedwell, clematis, and bee balm. The gangly leaves of a too-leggy crape myrtle wedged behind her seat tickled Linny's shoulders, and her sister had two puny looking gardenias clasped between her feet on the floorboards.

Kate looked over at her and gave her a cheeky grin. “That was fun, wasn't it?”

“Okay, okay. So you were right. It was happy and productive.” Linny pretended to grouse, but did feel lighter. “One more thought about the family drama . . .”

“Shoot,” Kate said, slipping on sunglasses.

Linny flipped down the sun visor and mulled over what had been quietly nagging at her all morning. “Buck was so much like Daddy that it scares me.” She turned to her sister. “He even kind of looked like Daddy, and had his man's man, hail-fellow-well-met persona.” She shuddered. “Maybe I picked him because of that.”

“Maybe,” her sister said thoughtfully. “But you picked, Andy, too, and that was a good relationship. He was just the opposite of Daddy—faithful, available, devoted.”

“I got lucky,” she admitted. “But really, he picked me, and just wore me down.” She gave Kate a rueful smile. “Of course, he could be an absent-minded-professor type. He could get so caught up in what he was doing, that he wouldn't notice if I walked by only wearing whipped cream, and he forgot birthdays and anniversaries.”

Kate chuckled, remembering. “You finally put those dates in his Outlook.”

“He also used it to remind himself to say ‘I love you.' ” In a spot-on imitation of his soft Southern drawl, she said, “I said I love you on our wedding day. Why reiterate?” She shook her head, and thought more about her parents. “I'm mad at Daddy, mad at Mama for putting up with it, and just so disappointed.”

Kate nodded. “It sure explains a lot about Mama. That was a crazy way to live—getting by on crumbs from Daddy. She must have been so angry and humiliated when she found out.” She shook her head, looking disgusted.

“I'm sure she felt bad about herself, and decided it was her fault that he stayed away,” Linny added, shuddering inwardly as she recalled how Buck's infidelities had pummeled her self-esteem. “It must have been surreal, finding out about the other woman while grieving Daddy. Maybe she wondered if the whole marriage was a sham.”

Kate cocked her head, and looked sad. “Do you think it was?”

As she pulled back on the highway, Linny shook her head. “I don't think so. I went through photos yesterday, and they looked happy. I remember a lot of love, too. Maybe he just got lost, and she let him.” She felt the heavy pall of sadness weigh on her again. Turning to look at Kate, she asked, “Are we banged up perennials?”

Her sister sighed, and she said softly, “All of us are, sweets. Every last one.”

 

As she placed the last plant on the shady side of the porch, Linny heard her phone, and scrambled back to the car to catch the call, but it had rolled to voice mail. When she saw her lawyer's number, she drew a shuddery breath and listened.

In her throaty voice Diamond said, “My pet, we have offers on both of the Caddy and the Pepperdine, and they're both scandalously low. We can negotiate them up a bit higher, but you're still looking at losses. Call me.”

The figure she named made Linny sink to the steps, her shoulders sagging. Once again, she was hit head-on with misery from the past—misery created by an irresponsible man. She thought about Kate's vow to put a stop to craziness in her life. Hitting the recall button, Linny left Diamond a message in a surprisingly calm voice. “Get rid of them. I don't care if we take a hit. Let's get this done and move on.”

W
hen Linny woke early the next morning, she lay in the weak morning light and assessed her mood. Her stomach did a back flip. As she rubbed her eyes with her fingers, she gave herself a shake. No more chicken little. She'd brace up and move forward, whether it was growing a business, going back to work for a corporation, or moving to Austin.

Expecting to feel leftover sadness or anger about her family, Linny was surprised to find that the buzz was partly excitement. Pulling Roy onto the bed beside her, she inhaled his warm puppy smell and snuggled him. She thought about Kate's words about family history not being destiny, and about feeling fresh resolve to free herself from the past. Like her sister, Linny would not just move forward with her life, but surge forward, avoiding mistakes she'd made in the past, and learning from mistakes her mother had made.

Whenever she felt overwhelmed by a problem, Andy used to always say, “Slow down, now. You can handle anything that this life throws your way. You're smart, you're kind, and you're responsible. Get focused. Remember all that you have going for you.” She did have good things going for her—the freshly hatched plan for her new business of teaching people to be nicer to each other, her rent-free trailer with the wood floors that was turning from an ugly duckling into a bit of a swan, and an embarrassment of riches when it came to love from family and friends. Her mother's truth-telling was galvanizing. She'd work to see the abundance she had, stay on the lookout for good things to happen.

At six forty-five a.m., Linny pulled into the parking lot of Grocery World. She was going to start eating healthier, too. Carefully, she selected Greek yogurt, fruit, and chicken breasts and quick-stepped by the aisle with the Cheetos and the M&Ms.

“Good morning,” she said to the checkout clerk, as she laid her items on the conveyor belt.

“For some.” The checker sighed heavily “I worked all day yesterday until nine last night, and my manager made me come in for this early shift.” Shaking her head and looking disgusted, she dropped Linny's grapes into the plastic bag with a thunk. “So of course I was twenty minutes late this morning. The man docks my pay and I'm working like a dog.” The cherries fell free into the bottom of another bag.

Linny winced and did the math. At $1.98 per pound for the grapes that got chucked into the bag, and the ridiculously expensive cherries that had been a splurge for her, she wanted her fruit to be treated carefully and she didn't want to hear about the woman's hard life. She just didn't.

As the checker weighed the bananas, Linny asked sweetly, “Can you please put them in there more carefully?”

The woman grumbled over her shoulder to a co-worker walking by. “Carla, he scheduled me for this shift too.” The bananas didn't have a chance.

Feeling the heat of anger, Linny bit back words. The woman was lucky to have a job. Taking a deep breath, she exhaled Indigo style. This Negative Nancy was not going to affect her mood. She'd keep her cheerful, positive attitude no matter who she encountered.

As she wheeled the cart out of the store, she paused at the Customer Service desk, scribbled down the name of the manager that was posted on the wall, and smiled a determined smile. Mr. Jim Petit was going to get a call from her soon to discuss ways she might help his staff give customers a more positive shopping experience.

 

As she put up the last of her groceries, she got a text from Dare.

Her stomach fluttered with excitement as she hurried to her laptop and went to the URL he gave her. With the content she'd emailed him, he'd promised her a site that looked professional and straightforward and showcased her experience. She couldn't wait to see what he came up with.

She drew in her breath sharply. Instead of the professional headshot she'd sent him, Dare had used a photo from a long-ago girl's weekend at the beach with Mary Catherine. In it, Linny wore a floppy hat, huge movie star sunglasses, and a cheesy grin as she toasted the photographer. Wearing a black bikini top with her shorts, she held aloft a fruity drink topped by a paper umbrella. Her heart hammered. Despite Dare's recent show of maturity, he was still only nineteen, the age of bad judgment and drunken bike accidents. “Oh, my Lord,” she gasped, covering her face with her hands. Trying to hold onto her cheerful, positive attitude while she pictured stabbing him with a pencil, Linny punched in his number.

“Yo, Linny,” he said, in a laid-back voice.

Her voice trembled. “Dare, tell me you sent me a mock-up and not the actual website. Promise me that picture is not online somewhere.”

After a pause, Dare guffawed with laughter. “Don't worry, Linny. I was messing with you. I found that old picture in Mom's files, but that shot's not really posted on the website. Just joshing you.”

She exhaled, her legs and arms feeling weak as water. “Remind me to pummel you next time I see you.”

“Imagine your real headshot in there, and check it out. Call me later, when you've chillaxed, and we can hook you up with all the social media.”

“You're a rat, Dare.” But she grinned as she said it. Averting her eyes from the photo, Linny sighed with relief as she read the copy and admired the clear, modern-looking layout. He'd done a fantastic job.

The phone rang and her heart bumped in her chest when she saw the caller ID: Raleigh Hospital. Frightening images flashed through her mind—Kate lying on the kitchen floor groaning, Jerry clutching his chest with one hand and a cheeseburger with the other, Dottie's Buick wrapped around a telephone pole, steam coming from the engine. She snatched up the phone. “This is Linny.”

“It's Amy Sanders,” the caller rasped. “From the Women's Networking Group.”

She exhaled. “Amy. Hey there.” She raked her fingers through her hair, weak with relief. “The phone says Raleigh Hospital.”

“That's where I am.”

“Oh gosh. Are you okay?” She'd met Amy for coffee last week to get her ideas about how to jump start her business.

Amy gave a racking, phlegmy cough. “I've got pneumonia and they won't let me out of here for a few days. I'm supposed to teach a two-day management training class in California on Monday and Tuesday of this coming week, and I'll still be too sick to go. I can't cancel. Can you do it for me?”

Linny paused, her mind speeding. “I can.”

“Good,” she wheezed. “The class is at Reynolds Jones Technology, a small software company near San Diego. You can teach from my materials. I'll email you the course and instructor's notes. The client picks up all expenses, and I'll pay you as well.”

The sum she mentioned made Linny lean back in her chair and put her hand to her mouth in quiet elation. Two days substituting for Amy would pay her more than two weeks at her old job. Wow. She made herself refocus and scratch down notes as Amy rattled off more instructions. “Thanks for thinking of me, Amy. Let me look over all the materials, and I'll call you tomorrow with questions.”

“Good,” she rasped.

“I won't let you down,” Linny promised, and ended the call, feeling both thrilled and paralyzed with self-doubt. Of course she might let Amy down. Four years had passed since she'd led the kind of training Amy asked her to deliver, and she didn't know the material. She'd better bone up, and fast. Glancing at the clock, she calculated how much time she had to prepare. If she studied the material for the next two days and on the flight out Sunday, she'd be ready. She could do it, she decided with a nod. Next—logistics.

Linny grabbed the notepad to start her list. Nibbling on her pen, she felt a surge of adrenaline and began to scribble. First, she needed to do research on the company. She needed a map of the area, directions to the client site, a flight, hotel, and rental car . . .

Roy gnawed at her ankle and, as Linny absent-mindedly pushed him away, it dawned on her that she'd have to make arrangements for him, too. Cupping his head, she gazed into the warm chocolate color of his eyes, “Buddy, do you want to go visit your cousins Duke and Delilah?”

Picking up the phone, she dialed her sister and grinned as she gave her the news.

“That's terrific.” Kate sounded delighted. “This is how it all begins—the first gig for Linny's Big Time Independent Consulting Business.”

Linny grinned, but cautioned her. “Just because I got lucky substituting for Amy doesn't mean I'm on Easy Street. She got the business, not me.”

“I know, but it's still a big deal,” her sister insisted. “You are out there on your own, not under the umbrella of a big company. Remember, it's how Jerry started his business—subcontracting for other guys.”

“I'm thrilled,” Linny admitted. “Scared out of my wits, but thrilled.”

“I wish we could help with Roy, but we'll be at the beach for a little getaway. Maybe Mama could help, and if she can't, you could board him at the vet's.”

As she studied flight times on the airline sites, her phone rang.

Her mother warbled, “Hi, dear. Do you have time to stop by for a few minutes?”

“Sure.” Good—it was a perfect time to ask her mother to keep Roy.

Her mother giggled.

Linny froze. Dottie was not a giggler. Had the evening of true confessions sent her off the deep end? “Mama? You okay, Mama?”

“There's someone I want you to meet.” Dottie made a loud whispered aside to someone. “Curtis, now you behave yourself.”

“I'll be there in five minutes.” Throwing her bag over her shoulder, Linny raced out the door, slowing only slightly to call Kate back. When her sister didn't pick up, she left a hurried message. “I don't know what's going on, but I think Mama's got herself a boyfriend named Curtis. He sounds frisky.” She gulped, adding, “I'll call you as soon as I get the 9-1-1.” Just as she was about to push the end button, she hurriedly added, “I mean the 4-1-1.”

Skidding the car into the driveway, she took a deep breath, and tried to stay calm. Mama hadn't ever dated since Daddy died, and said things like, “Why in the world would I marry again? I don't want a man rambling around the house, getting in the way, and telling me what to do.” Her pulse quickened. Maybe he was a gigolo she'd met at church, or some recently widowed man who wanted a woman to take care of him as he moved into the Depends stage of life. Maybe this was an opportunistic young man who'd heard that her mother was a Ms. Moneybags and wanted a sugar mama. Over Linny's dead body would another man treat her mother shabbily. Dottie had served her time with Boyd. She chugged up the steps, and gave the door a firm, staccato rap.

“Coming,” her mother trilled.

Good lord.
It was worse than she thought. Dottie sounded almost girlish. When her mother swung open the door, Linny braced herself for the worst. “Hey, Mama,” she said, trying to sound casual, as she noticed her mother's hair was pulled back with an indigo blue chiffon scarf tied into a bow. She looked pretty—very early Lucy Ricardo.

“Come in, come in.” Her mother's eyes danced and she swirled around, looking back to the living room. “I couldn't wait for you to meet this fellow.” She called, “Curtis, sugar, come meet Linny.”

Linny's mouth dropped open, as she watched what looked like a small horse stroll toward her. Peering more closely, she saw that Curtis was a Great Dane. She could swear the lanky giant smiled at her, and with every tail wag cleared another surface of knick-knacks.

Dottie clasped her hands together delightedly, laughed out loud and said in an indulgent tone, “Naughty boy, Curtis.”

Finally done gaping, Linny stammered, “So, Curtis is a dog, not a man.”

Her mother's brows knit for a moment, just a passing cloud on a brilliant sunshiny day. “Of course he's a dog. And he's mine.” She beckoned Linny to follow her into the living room.

Linny looked in the giant dog's gentle eyes, stroked him, and followed her mother. “He's very handsome. I didn't know you wanted a dog.”

Dottie slid into her recliner, and kissed the top of Curtis's head. “I've always wanted a dog, but your daddy wouldn't let me get one. He said animals were too much work. Not that he'd have been the one doing the work,” she muttered. As she pulled the lever on her chair and reclined, Curtis sat beside her and rested his head on her lap, and gazed at her adoringly. Dottie cooed at him, and leveled a gaze at Linny. “So, this is how it started. After we . . . talked this week, I did something. I decided my best friends needed to know, and told Ruby and Dessie the truth about my marriage to your daddy, about that woman and everything.”