I Still Dream About You

Okay?”

Alex sighed. “All right, but she’s not going to be happy.”

After David’s call, Alex pulled out Babs Bingington’s real estate contract on the Dalton house in Birmingham and looked it over. He dreaded making the call and toyed with the idea of just e-mailing her. He had not mentioned it to his boss, but the last time they’d spoken, she had more or less promised him a “good time” if he ever came to Birmingham, and he had sort of gone along with it. Under the circumstances, he decided it would be the gentlemanly thing to tell her over the phone, so he reluctantly dialed her number, but her voice mail said she was not available and to leave a message. He didn’t want to leave bad news on her machine, especially over the weekend, so he hung up. Alex decided it was no use trying to call her again today; besides, he had to leave early, so he could get home and take the kids trick-or-treating. He would just wait and call both Babs and this Margaret Fortenberry woman on Monday. Waiting a day wouldn’t hurt anything.

BABS HAD HAD her eye on the Crestview property for some time. One of the construction companies she was getting kickbacks from wanted the lot, and for the last few months, Babs had badgered the owner’s lawyer in New York with a combination of sweet talk, promises, and relentless pressure, until she was finally about to get the listing. She already had the fake couple set to put in an offer.

Of course, Babs knew as soon as they knocked it down, the snooty “over the mountain” historic-house snots would probably kick up a fuss like they always did, but she didn’t care. They were just a bunch of pain-in-the-ass old dinosaurs trying to hang on to the past. They thought those houses were so special, but to her, they were just some old, outdated, falling-down piles of bricks that needed to come down. So screw them and the buggy they rode in on.

Audrey and the Panty Hose

Saturday, November 1, 2008

BY SATURDAY AFTERNOON, MAGGIE HAD PACKED ALL THE POTS AND pans in one box and the dishes in another, so she was finished with the kitchen. Now all she had to do was decide what she would wear tomorrow night to see the Dervishes so she could pack the rest of her clothes in the boxes for the theater. As usual, she spent ten minutes flipping back and forth through her closet and finally decided on the black Armani brocade evening suit with the green Hermes scarf, simple pearl earrings, and the black suede Stuart Weitzman pumps. She then rummaged through her top drawer, looking for that last new pair of black hose she knew she had, but when she found the package, she was irritated to see they were not the right size. She must have grabbed a bunch of them without looking. There was no possible way she was going to fit into a size A petite. She hated to buy a brand-new pair of hose to wear just once, but she had no choice. She couldn’t wear tan nylons with a black formal evening suit.

Maggie was tempted to run out without putting on her makeup. Just a few short days ago, the very thought of going out in public without it wouldn’t have crossed her mind. It was a good thing she was leaving soon. She was turning into someone she hardly knew. Good Lord, she would be spitting on sidewalks next.

She jumped into the car and drove over to the Brookwood Mall. She thought she would just dash in, pick up her hose, and dash out again, but after having driven around the block at least sixteen times, she was running out of patience. After the tenth or eleventh time around, she said, “Oh, the heck with it,” and pulled into a handicapped parking space.

She hated to break the law, but the other eight handicapped spaces were empty, and the chances of eight handicapped people arriving to shop in the next five minutes were slim. Just in case anyone was watching, though, she got out of the car and limped into the store.

The minute she walked through the front door, she saw Audrey behind the counter in the jewelry department. Maggie hoped Audrey hadn’t spotted her and kept going, but it was too late. Audrey, obviously thrilled to see her, yelled across the store, “Maggie! It’s me! I’m working here now.” She followed Maggie all the way back to the lingerie department and pushed the regular girl at the cash register out of her way, insisting that she wait on Maggie. She wanted to stand there and reminisce about old times, and if Maggie hadn’t been in the handicapped spot, she might have stayed and talked to her longer, but after Audrey had run up her purchase, Maggie grabbed her hose and literally ran out the door, saying she was late for an appointment, which was a bold- faced lie. When Maggie pulled out and drove away and realized what she had just done, how rude she had been to poor Audrey, she parked in front of Books-A-Million around the corner and started to cry. She had not seen Audrey in over twenty years. She should have stayed and talked to her.

Audrey had been a good friend of her mother’s, and the last time she had seen her was at her mother’s funeral. Seeing her today, an old lady with arthritic hands, working behind a counter, was so sad; Audrey had once been a tall, good-looking, stately redhead and had run the entire Ladies Better Wear department in the big Loveman’s store downtown. Maggie even remembered the first time she had met her. Audrey was wearing a royal blue wool dress with large square gold buttons and a sapphire pin on her shoulder, and Maggie thought she was as glamorous as a movie star. Over the years, whenever she and her mother came into the store, Audrey would see them and call out to any other salesgirls who approached, “These are my customers!” She had taken care of them like they were part of her family.

After Maggie’s mother had developed arthritis and could no longer sew, Audrey would call if something was on sale or if a dress came in that she thought would look good on Maggie. Being a working woman herself, Audrey understood that they had very little money, so whenever Maggie needed a dress for some dance or function or a coming-out party for one of her girlfriends, Audrey always found her something wonderful to wear that had just been reduced. She would wink at Maggie and say, “We can’t let our girl go to fancy parties in rags now, can we?” And when Maggie became Miss Alabama, Audrey was as proud as her own parents and announced to anyone who was within a mile, “I’ve dressed her for years.” But now Audrey, who had once been Loveman’s main buyer, was relegated to a part-time position in costume jewelry at a small outlet store. Maggie sat there and wondered what she should have said to Audrey. What could you say?

She sat for a minute and then got out of the car and walked the two blocks back to the store and found Audrey again. She walked over and took her hand. “You know, Audrey,” she said, “I don’t know if I ever told you this, but you have no idea how much you meant to me, how much you helped when I was growing up, always being so sweet and making me feel special, and I just want to thank you.”

Audrey looked at her and said, “Oh, darling, you were always so easy to be sweet to.” Then Audrey glanced around the room. “Listen, I know you’re in a hurry, but can I grab you for a second?” And for the next thirty minutes, Maggie was pulled around the store, from one department to the other, while Audrey introduced her to everyone who worked there, including a few clueless customers who just happened to be standing around, waiting to pay for something. “This is Margaret Fortenberry,” she announced, beaming as if she were introducing the Queen of England to her subjects. “The night she won Miss Alabama, wouldn’t you know it, I was home sick in bed with the flu and couldn’t go to the pageant, but the very first person she called after it was over was me. I’ve known her since she was ten years old, and she was the sweetest little thing, always so well behaved.” Audrey said this to people Maggie was sure couldn’t care less about meeting some old beauty-pageant winner, but they were at least polite. It was embarrassing, but she could see it meant a lot to Audrey, so she was happy to stand there and shake hands.

As Maggie drove back home, she felt a little better about herself; Audrey had been the first person she had called that night. Maggie began to wonder why Audrey was still working. Where was her family? Did Audrey have a decent place to live? After a while, she moaned and started talking to herself: “Oh Lord, don’t start. You can’t help Audrey-you can’t even help yourself.” And why did those panty hose have to be A petite and not regular? Why had she run into that particular store? She could have just as easily run out to Walmart and picked up a cheap pair, but no, she had to have the more sheer and expensive kind. As she drove home, she decided to leave Audrey her Miss Alabama crown and sash and trophy.

Later, after Maggie had finished packing up all her jewelry and her mink stole and had everything ready to go, she called Boots and told her about the things she wanted to donate to the costume