Linny's Sweet Dream List (21 page)

Linny stood there, blinking. This was big. Her mother always painted a pretty picture about her family to the outside world, even to her two oldest friends. “How did that go?”

“They were kind.” She put her hands on her chest and raised them up. “This heaviness got lifted from my heart when I finally told those secrets I'd been carrying around. I might talk about it to the Sisters of Dorcas next week, too. If you can't talk to your ladies' prayer group about such things, who can you tell?”

“I'm so glad, Mama,” Linny said softly, feeling her eyes sting. Secrets were a terrible burden to bear. She remembered how alone she'd felt when she had suspicions about Buck's infidelity.

Dottie smiled. “So, back to how I came by this dog. I was at a yard sale last Saturday, and the couple who held it had been taking care of Curtis for their son who was in Iraq. He was supposed to be back in mid-October, but was worried about not finding any work and signed on for more duty overseas. His daddy just had a stroke, and his Mama said she told her son she couldn't handle taking care of a big dog and a sick man. She said it broke his heart, but he said she needed to give him to the pound.” Dottie shook her head. “I thought about it and prayed about it, and it came to me this morning. Just as clear as a bell, I heard a voice saying, ‘Dottie, go get that dog.' ” She gave a proud smile. “So I just got right in the car, drove back to the yard sale house, and told that lady I wanted Curtis.”

Thoughts raced through Linny's mind. The big dog was so impractical for the cramped, cluttered house. Could her mother handle all that went into caring for the big dog—making sure he got enough exercise, got him trained? First, she takes in a stray that needs rescuing, then her mother does. Were they turning into those worn-out women who gave up on men? Was a house teeming with cats next? But seeing Dottie's joy as she stroked Curtis's handsome head, her heart softened. Maybe they were just both ready for love. Pushing away her doubts, she leaned forward, and smiled. “I'm happy for you, Mama. I know a good vet . . .”

 

On Sunday morning, Linny raced around to finish packing, and at noon, led Roy out to the car. A knot formed in her stomach. This would be his first overnight away, and she was going to miss him. She'd not asked Dottie to take care of him with her new charge, but had learned that Red Oak did boarding, too. Thank goodness. As she pointed the car toward the vet clinic, she kept up a string of soothing chatter to the dog in the back seat. “I'll just be gone a few days, and you'll have lots of other doggies to play with. It'll be like camp, with games and playtime . . .”

But Roy just yawned noisily, and closed his eyes.

Linny shook her head. So much for the separation anxiety she'd read about online. Some dogs intuited when their owners were going out of town without them and started howling as soon as the suitcases came out. Linny glanced in the mirror and grinned. Roy was snoozing with his head resting on her roller bag. He'd be fine.

Linny still wasn't entirely confident of the program she'd present the next day, and nervously reviewed the sequence of the class in her head as she pulled into the Animal Hospital parking lot.

Inside, Ruthie smiled at Linny as she took the leash. “Where are you off to, Linny? Some place exciting?” She raised her eyebrows Groucho Marx style.

Busy pulling Roy's favorite blanket and pink stuffed lamb from a bag, Linny was distracted as she replied. “No, I've got work in California.”

“You're leaving town?” The receptionist frowned, her brows knit in concern.

“Yup,” Linny responded absent mindedly, wondering if she'd remembered to pack her sleep mask and mouth guard. “Kate will pick him up on Wednesday.” Linny would be home late, and couldn't bear to be away from Roy one night more than she had to.

“We'll sure miss you.” Ruthie looked genuinely distressed. “We've enjoyed working with you.”

Linny was wondering if she'd missed something conversationally when her phone rang and she saw Amy's number. All morning, the hoarse-voiced woman had peppered her with calls, conveying last minute details. Rubbing Roy's velvety ears she gave him one more kiss. She gave a finger wave to Ruthie, put the phone to her ear and hurried to the car.

 

Monday morning, Linny looked at the eighteen managers seated in the conference room, blanched inwardly and felt the stomach grab she experienced before every training class she'd ever taught. She knew she was rusty, and teaching a class from another instructor's materials was trickier than teaching from her own familiar material.

After introducing herself and listening to their introduction, Linny glanced down at the notes she'd made in Amy's instruction guide, and broke into a sweat, realizing she didn't know what the words meant. Her brain was on lockdown. What in the world was she doing up here in front of a group of very smart people presenting herself as an independent consultant? To hide the trembling of her hands, she gripped her laptop and glanced at it unseeingly. Fighting panic as bad as that which had almost paralyzed her after she'd buried Andy, she breathed in and out slowly. It was no use. Her mind raced in circles, and she couldn't remember her carefully rehearsed opening to the class.

Chairs squeaked, and participants' raised brows of pleasant expectancy changed to lowered brows of concern and annoyance. A few whispered to one another. The goateed man in the front row looked disgusted, and made a show of taking out his laptop and started to tap away. Linny floated somewhere above the room, watched in horror as she screwed up her very first class as an independent trainer.

Andy's voice came to her as clearly as if he was standing right beside her, not a thousand miles and several time zones away in heaven. “Slow down, girl. Be yourself.” Clearing her throat, Linny felt all eyes on her, and stammered as she began. “Uh . . . um . . . I'd like to start by telling you about my new puppy.”

Participants cast nervous glances at one another. Goatee Man rolled his eyes.

“Last week, I ran to the grocery store for thirty minutes and left the puppy in the kitchen with a baby gate blocking the doorway. When I came home, he'd chewed up two chair legs and made a good start on tearing down the wallpaper.” The knot in her stomach started to loosen. “I went online for articles about managing problem behaviors in dogs. An expert trainer said that with a chewer, you need to roll up a newspaper . . .” Linny rolled up a
USA Today
she'd picked up at the hotel, and lightly tapped it on her head. “. . . and hit yourself, because you aren't supervising the puppy well enough.”

People smiled, and nodded. Feeling her confidence flicker back to life, she glanced around the room, meeting participants' eyes. “Do any of you have employees who aren't motivated?” Many nodded. “How about ones who don't finish projects on time? Any have employees who don't learn from mistakes?” Hands went up. “You might think you have problem performers, but some employees don't perform well because you—their managers—aren't supervising them properly.” She held up the newspaper. “If you aren't clear about expectations. . . if you don't communicate well . . . if you don't give feedback about performance, you are creating problem performers.”

Many managers nodded, and Goatee Man folded his laptop closed.

“By the end of this program, you'll be more skillful managers, with new tools in your toolbox for improving the performance of those you lead. Let's get started.” Linny pulled up her first slide and smiled. She was going to be fine.

 

Linny wrapped up the program on Tuesday afternoon, watching the group as they worked on an exercise. She gave a deep, contented sigh. In a quiet way, she felt sky high. This was her Sweet Dream job. She was exactly where she was supposed to be, teaching people how to draw the best from others. Silently, she sent up thank yous.
Thank you, Andy, for talking me off the ledge. Thank you for always believing in me and staying with me. Thank you, whoever's on the request line for sending me such a clear message about this being the work I'm supposed to be doing right now in my life, and sending me Amy with the opportunity. I won't let any of you down,
she promised. Linny smiled slowly, feeling engaged and alive.

 

After the long flight home Wednesday, Linny unlocked the door to her cool, quiet trailer, and it felt like a sanctuary. She breathed a sigh of relief. She was home, and she'd done well. Roy yipped his hellos to her from his crate in the bedroom. Hurrying back to see him, she pulled the latch, the ecstatic puppy exploded out like he'd been spring-loaded. She laughed delightedly as he danced into her lap, licked her face and playfully bit at her hair.

Gradually, the puppy settled down. Linny made quick work of unpacking, and poured herself a glass of wine. Pulling the cell from her bag, she checked messages and she saw she had two new ones since she'd landed.

Kate's message made her smile. “Welcome home, sweets. I picked Roy up for you this afternoon, and Ruthie said he did great with all the other dogs. We're so excited about the baby barbecue this weekend. Let Jerry and I pick you up. We can get there early—say around three—to help Mama finish getting ready. Jerry says this message is too long. I've missed you!”

The second message was from Robert Bryant at Grayfeather Networks. “Linny, call me as soon as you can. I've gotten preliminary approval for that position, and I want to talk to you about it.”

She gave a tired smile. Cool. Easing off her shoes, she slumped onto the bed and flopped back. The Grayfeather job might be a lifeline, but there were two kickers. She scrubbed her face with her hands, and willed her tired brain to think about it. With only one hand-me-down gig under her belt, she wasn't exactly burning up the track with her own business, but she remembered how alive she'd felt over the past two days. She wanted to work for herself instead of working for a corporation. And Texas . . . With all of Austin's charms, it just wasn't home.

Suddenly the jet lag hit her. Mustering just enough energy to shuck her work clothes and slip into a nightgown, Linny fell into bed. She'd think about all of it tomorrow. Scooping Roy up onto the bed for comfort, she flipped through a tabloid Mary Catherine had insisted on passing on to her, read the first paragraphs about a star's desperate struggle with anorexia, and fell fast asleep.

S
aturday was a perfect day for the baby barbecue—sunny but cool, and finally, there was a hint of fall in the air. A little before three, Linny spotted Jerry's truck, and waved as she stepped onto the porch.

“Hey, Linny Belle,” Jerry drawled through the open truck window.

“Hey, buddy.” Grinning up at him, she walked around the truck to slide in next to Kate. “Hi, sweet pea.” She kissed her sister's cheek.

Kate's hug was fierce. “Hey, honey. We missed you.”

Linny stared at her. Was it possible for her sister to have grown even more beautiful in the last several days? “You look amazing, luminous, like Raphael's Madonna.”

Jerry concurred. “I've been telling her the same thing.”

“You two stop,” Kate protested, but looked pleased. “It's the hormones.” She tipped her stainless steel to-go cup so Linny could see the slices of orange and lemon floating in her ice water. “Food cravings. Today it's citrus. Yesterday it was sauerkraut.”

“How are you feeling?” Linny asked, slipping on a pair of sunglasses.

“Still sick in the mornings, but I don't mind.” Kate's mouth crooked up.

As he steered around the deepest ruts on the driveway, Jerry added, “The prenatal vitamins are as big as robins' eggs, and she sleeps a lot.”

Kate nodded. “Seems like all I do is go to see my obstetrician. She keeps referring to me as a ‘mature mom.' ” She wrinkled her nose at Linny. “I don't think I'm mature. Do you?”

“No. I've never thought that.” Linny grinned, but felt a pull of sadness. If she had to go to Austin, she'd miss these two so much.

Jerry's phone rang. Linny felt her sister's shoulder tense, but then relax as he switched it off, and tossed it on the floorboards.

“Did you work this morning, Jerry?” Linny asked.

Jerry shook his head firmly, as the truck bumped down the gravel road. “Nope. Took the whole day off. No more Saturdays and Sundays.”

Whoa. This was huge. Deciding it best to not even glance at Kate, she gave her a small, good-for-you shot with her elbow and simply said, “Good.”

He sounded sheepish. “It took me long enough to figure that one out.”

“Well, at least you did,” Linny said staunchly.

“While we're setting up, we need to hear about your trip, Linny, and anything else that's new,” Kate said.

“The class went pretty well. I was nervous, but got past it,” Linny said.

“Good.” Her sister gave her a sidelong glance. “Anything else?”

Could Ms. ESP read her mind about Austin? Going for a diversionary tactic, she asked brightly, “We're still at fifty-four people, right? That was the final number I gave Lester. Any last minute cancellations or additions?”

Kate's knees began to jiggle. “Lester knows to plan for one or two extras.”

Linny glanced at her questioningly, alerted by the jumpy knee and too innocent tone.

“We invited Jack,” Kate blurted. “I hope you aren't mad, but you all were kind of stalled in the romance department, and I wanted to give Cupid a little kick start.”

“Why?” Linny asked in a furious, trembling voice. “Did you invite his smart, beautiful, young veterinarian girlfriend, too?”

Kate put her hand to her mouth and looked stricken. “I didn't know he had a girlfriend. Last I knew, you'd just found out he was divorced.”

Linny groaned. Her life had been such a soap opera lately that she couldn't remember who she'd told what. Under her sunglasses, she pressed two fingers to her eyes.
Good grief.
She had neglected to mention that news to Kate?

Jerry cleared his throat. “I didn't know about any girlfriend, but I ran into the guy at Lowe's and we got to talking and . . .”

Linny said hotly, “Good grief. You men are much worse gossips than women.”

“Are you finished?” Kate asked.

Crossing her arms, Linny nodded grumpily.

He continued nervously. “He thought you took a job out of town.”

Linny flashed back to her odd conversation with Ruthie when she'd dropped Roy off, and shook her head ruefully.

Jerry continued. “So, I cleared things up, and he seemed awful glad that you weren't leaving town. I mentioned this to Kate . . .”

Her sister took it from there. “. . . so, I picked up the phone. For Pete's sake, Linny, he's a nice man, he's not married, and he seems to like you.” She sighed noisily. “Although if he knew how testy you are, I'm not sure he would.”

“Save those mysteries until after you've hooked him,” Jerry advised sagely.

Linny craned her neck around Kate and shot him a long-suffering look. Remembering she was a glass-half-full gal with a cheerful positive attitude, she promised herself that when she met the happy couple, she'd not let herself be embarrassed about her unrequited crush, or let herself feel old and frumpy. She watched Kate tease Jerry about something. She sat up straighter. She wasn't going to let Jack's presence ruin her family's party. She'd be gracious and welcoming. One detail kept gnawing at her as she released her seatbelt. If Jack was so happy with Dr. Gorgeous, why was he upset when he'd thought Linny was moving away? She felt a buzz of jittery excitement as she mulled over that tidbit, but pushed it away. Maybe Jerry had imagined it.

Dottie pushed open the screen door before Jerry turned off the ignition. Waving broadly, she grinned and called to them, “I'm so excited about this shower.”

Wearing pink seersucker capris, a matching top, and cute walking sandals, Dottie's rose hued hair was freshly permed. Linny smiled. Joseph had worked his magic for the occasion. But Linny narrowed her eyes. Makeup. Her mother was wearing light makeup and a slick of pink lipstick. She'd not worn a speck of makeup since Daddy died. Linny felt a wave of tenderness. “You're looking awfully pretty Mama,” she called as she slid down from the truck seat.

“Go on,” Dottie waved off the compliment, flushing.

Still, Linny could tell she was pleased. “Where's your boyfriend, Curtis?”

Dottie's face lit up. “In you girls' old room, watching Animal Planet. He loves that channel.”

Linny stepped into Dottie's hug.

A moment later, Kate had her arms around the both of them.

“What a happy day,” her mother murmured.

Jerry leaned over the pile of Taylor women and kissed his mother-in-law on the top of her head. “Put us to work, Dottie.”

Dottie put a hand on either side of Jerry's face and kissed his cheek. Linking arms with her daughters, she walked them around to the back of the house.

“I left you in a lurch this week,” Linny apologized.

Her mother waved a hand dismissively. “Nonsense. Lester said you'd been e-texting him—whatever you call it—all week. He and his two sons had come over yesterday afternoon to set it all up, and stayed up all night slow-cooking the pig. It was quite an operation.”

In the back yard, red and white striped party tents shaded rows of tables and chairs. Under the shade of a pecan tree, smoke wafted from a metal cooker, and the enticing aroma of spicy, braised pork greeted them. A burly, bearded man looked up from the cooker, gave them a raffish grin, and waved a pair of tongs at them.

“Lester?” She looked at her mother for confirmation, and Dottie nodded. Linny breezed over to check in with him. A few minutes later, she returned to the group, relieved. “Everything is a go.” She inhaled. “Smells delicious.”

Dottie said, “He cooks the pig for twelve hours in a secret sauce.”

“Secret sauce?” Jerry narrowed his eyes, and muttered, “I wonder if he uses
habanero or honey or smoked paprika . . .
I need to talk to him.” He strode off.

The three women looked at each other in amusement.

“Ooh, Mama, you even got cooling misters,” Kate said admiringly, pointing to the fans positioned on top of orange water barrels.

“It's been such a long hot summer.” Dottie looked pleased with herself. She peered up at the cloudless blue sky. “All week, I was worrying myself into a tizzy that it might rain, but I just decided, we'll just burn that bridge when we come to it.”

Linny grinned. “Brilliant, Mama.” Slipping on her sunglasses, Linny surreptitiously examined her mother as she finished a quick confab with Kate about the best place to put the drink coolers. Even with her lipstick drawn a tad haphazardly around her mouth, Dottie looked brighter, less guarded, and quicker to smile. Telling the truth had been a tonic for her mother. Impulsively, Linny leaned in and kissed her.

Her mother flushed with pleasure, smiled almost shyly, and asked, “What was that for?”

“Just for being you.” She patted her arm, and turned to Kate. “You ready?”

If she'd wanted to stew about Jack, she didn't have the time. The next two hours passed in a blur as they scrubbed down the Adirondack chairs, smacked the pollen off of cushions, set up conversation areas, and sprayed the air with Listerine—an anti-mosquito remedy that Kate swore by. The supper tables needed to be moved, the girls agreed. Jerry took one end while Linny manned the other. Kate directed them into position using two pepper grinders as pointers. “We need to allow for proper ingress and egress,” she announced.

Linny arched a brow.

“Since Jerry's getting home earlier, we've been watching Discovery Channel together,” her sister explained. “We saw a show on how airports work. The workers who direct the jets in are called marshallers, and the orange things they use are called signaling wands.” She held up the pepper grinders in her hands.

“Good to know.” Linny nodded. “I'll try to work that into a conversation.”

Jerry poured ice into coolers of soft drinks, beer, and white wine. After he expertly uncorked the reds, he waved his hands dramatically over the bottles, announcing in a fake French accent, “We moost let les grepes bweathe.”

She grinned at her brother-in-law, hands on hips, waiting for an explanation.

He smirked. “Watched another show on wines of France.”

Linny laughed, warmed by a playfulness between Kate and Jerry that she'd not seen in a long time.

 

Linny heard car doors slam and guests began to roll in. Ducking in the bathroom, she glanced in the mirror, smoothed her hair, and dabbed on more lip gloss. Looking more closely at her reflection, she tried to give herself an Indigo-inspired pep talk, but all she could come up with was a whispered, “You're holding up pretty well for a woman with moderate mileage.” After all that she'd been through, that was gracious plenty.

On the front porch, Linny hung back, shrinking behind the branches of an overgrown camellia bush as she watched the driveway fill up with cars. Kate, Jerry, and Dottie stepped toward their guests, and waved their hellos. A beefy man with a shaved head opened the door of an SUV for his very pregnant wife. He held out two hands to steady her as she slid down from the high seat. A Prius and an older Honda pulled in—Kate's school teacher friends, Linny guessed. An early model Lincoln Continental pulled in, and her mother's girlfriends stepped from the car. Grinning, Ruby and Dessie waved gaily. Linny squinted. Their hair looked pinkish, too. Must be more clients of Joseph, the hairdresser. Other trucks pulled in with company names on the door panels like Q
UALITY
P
LUMBING
and E
DDIE'S
E
LECTRICAL
S
ERVICES.
Jerry's subcontractors and coworkers, Linny thought, and noted how young many of them looked. She wilted, and stepped back behind the cover of the leaves. Maybe the best years of her own life had passed, and all her youth and vitality were gone with nothing to show for it. It would be a downward slide from here. Feeling bleak, she gave herself a mental shake, and pushed down the sadness. No pity party today, she told herself firmly, and made herself step from behind the camellia and go greet people.

The guests' congratulations and good-natured ribbing began almost as soon their feet hit the ground. “You'd better enjoy a party before the baby arrives. You'll be changing diapers and staying up all night soon enough.” And, “Kate, Jerry told us he isn't going to change any diapers. He says real men don't do that kind of thing.” Linny smiled at the affectionate goodwill that the guests offered her sister and Jerry. Partygoers streamed into the back yard.

Chastising herself when she noticed how anxiously she watched the driveway for Jack's red truck, Linny got busy directing guests around back and getting settled at tables. Around six thirty, she finally gave up looking for the truck, and realized she felt equal measures of relief and disappointment.

Turning from Lester's grill, she held a plate laden with barbecue in one hand and a beer in the other, and scanned the crowd for a safe place to light. Surveying the groups of Kate and Jerry's laughing friends, Linny felt a warm glow of satisfaction that the party was a success, but her stomach tightened. She'd feel like Poor Pitiful Pearl if she had to sit at tables full of happy couples and pregnant women.

“Come sit with us, sugar,” her mother called, beckoning her.

Sighing with relief, she steered herself to the table where the pink-headed ladies—Dottie, Ruby and Dessie—tucked into their meals and cackled.

Ruby patted the seat beside her and gave her a sweet smile. “You're just as pretty as ever, and you look so much like your Mama did when she was young.”

Her mother shot her friend the fisheye.

“Young-er,” Dessie clarified for her friend, grinning at Dottie. “Dot, you'll feel old soon enough when you start getting called Mee-Maw.”