Debra Clopton - Dream a Little Dream

Lacy laughed and climbed down off the ladder. Spinning around toward the two older friends, she plopped her hands on her hips. “You two better straighten up and be nice to each other or I might just have to get my razor hold of y’all.”

“Hey,” Esther Mae snapped, her eyes growing wide. “How do you think I would look with one of those spunky short cuts? You know where my hair sticks up on top of my head—”

“Lacy,” Norma Sue broke in. “Don’t listen to her. Mule Hollow doesn’t need to give the wrong impression.”

“And just what does that mean?” Esther Mae gasped indignantly.

Norma Sue dropped her jaw. “You’d look like a redheaded troll! That’s what.”

Esther Mae blew out a short breath. “Pooh. I would be spunky and cute. Just like my personality.”

Lacy shot a wink Molly’s way. “You are right about the personality, Esther dear. But I think maybe we’d have to have a serious consult before I punked out your hair. Okay, I gotta go.”

Molly watched Lacy jog toward the door, chuckling.

“What do I need to do?” she called after her, not at all sure about attempting decorating without a whole lot of instruction.

“Oh!” Lacy spun at the door. “As Esther Mae and Norma Sue get those decorations done, all you have to do is string them like I did these.” She pointed to the ceiling where she’d been draping the lights and ribbons Norma Sue and Esther Mae were braiding together. “Don’t look so doubtful, Molly. You can do this. The ties are on top of the ladder. As soon as I can, I’ll be back. If I’m not back before you get finished, you’ll know either I’ve got a really, really bad disaster on my hands or I’m getting to tell whomever is over there waiting on me about the Lord!”

She grinned, her eyes sparking with excitement. Everyone knew that witnessing for the Lord was the reason Lacy woke up every day. Molly had experienced it firsthand in the middle of a highlight.

Taking in Lacy’s beautiful work, Molly realized there was no way her streamers were going to remotely resemble the artfully draping decorations her friend had strung. Every dip was perfectly matched, no bulges, no kinks. Molly plastered on a smile and thought positive. “Sure, I can handle this, Lacy. You go do that thing you do.”

“Catch ya later,” Lacy sang. “’Bye, Norma Sue and Esther Mae. Try to be good, why don’t ya.”

“Hey, what fun would that be?” Norma Sue laughed, studying her work. “Don’t you agree, Molly?”

“Oh yeah. Sure thing.” She raised an eyebrow at the two spicy women. Picking up a strand Lacy had already strung across the floor, she climbed the ladder, listening to the two friends chatter on, returning to their previous banter without skipping a beat.

“What would possess you to think about cutting your hair like that?” Norma Sue asked.

Esther Mae gave an exasperated sigh. “I feel fat. I thought maybe a shorter cut might help.”

“Esther, it doesn’t work that way!”

“Well, something has to give. I tell you I can’t fit into my dress,” she wailed. “The wedding’s two weeks away and I’m as bloated as a cow. I think Sam gave me the wrong prescription. I’ve been taking my new derivatives and all they’re doing is sending me trotting—”

“Pulleeze!” Norma’s hand shot up. “Skip the trotting part. And the word is diuretics! And why are you blaming Sam?”

Esther harrumphed. “The sign does read Sam’s Diner and Pharmacy. And, he has been acting weird lately is all I’m saying. He’s even being rude. And you know Sam—he might be grumpy sometimes but not rude and distracted. I’m telling you something’s up.”

“Maybe he’s just being cranky for no reason—it happens sometimes. Or maybe he isn’t getting enough sleep,” Molly offered.

“Well, he’s been that way for days—I think he’s thinking about Adela. I think something is wrong. Haven’t you noticed the food at the diner hasn’t been up to snuff lately?

Norma Sue nodded and stopped braiding. “Now that you mention it, Adela has been extra quiet lately.”

Molly thought about that. Everyone could tell there was something special between Adela and Sam. But there seemed to be an invisible line drawn between them. They always sat beside each other at church, Sam making certain Miss Adela was comfortable after she came down from playing the piano, fussing over her sweater when it fell off her shoulders as she sat down. It was the sweetest thing Molly had ever seen. It was one of the things that made Molly have some hope about—well, she wasn’t going to think about that right now. She had too many other things pressing to be worried about why Sam wouldn’t ask Adela to marry him.

“Maybe we need to do something,” Esther Mae snapped, sitting up straighter and drawing Molly back to their conversation.

“Oh no, you don’t.”

“Norma Sue, you know those two are in love. They need our help. Tell her Molly. Tell her, it’s our duty to make sure Adela and Sam see the writing on the wall.”

“But, I—” Molly felt trapped as she stared at the wall and willed herself to be invisible. She was already in enough trouble for messing with Bob’s life. She didn’t want Sam and Adela mad at her, too. They seemed to have things under control.

“Yeah, Molly,” Norma Sue chimed in. “Maybe Esther Mae has a point.”

“I…well.” Molly scrambled down the ladder and grabbed her backpack from where she’d set it by the door. “Look. I just remembered something I forgot to do. Y’all can figure this out on your own. Do whatever you feel you need to do.”

Feeling guilty about abandoning the job, she backed out the door and closed it before she could hear their startled replies. She was still too shaken up over Bob being so put out with her. She wasn’t cut out for all this matchmaking any more than she was cut out to be a decorator.

She was a reporter. She was supposed to stand back and record what was going on around her. To document it in a professional, even creative way was something she strove hard to do. But she’d never experienced anyone being upset with her work, and she wasn’t sure how she felt about that. Not sure at all.

As a matter of fact, Bob’s displeasure had brought up a whole cache of hidden questions she didn’t want to think about right now.

She needed to write.

She needed to write and not think about anything other than the words on the paper.

And that pretty much summed up how she’d always looked at life. Until lately, when the words refused to flow.

It was nearly eleven o’clock as Molly hoisted her backpack to her shoulder and started to cross Main Street. She paused, thinking about poor unsuspecting Sam and Adela. Norma Sue and Esther Mae’s snooping might be just what they needed to take that next step toward the altar—it had worked many times before. But Molly had never actually had a hands-on experience in matchmaking. Sure she had written some articles that expanded on the original ad campaign that Adela, Norma Sue and Esther Mae had started with. But she had never point-blank picked two people and set out to manipulate them to fall in love.

Then again, that wasn’t really what was happening at all, not exactly. No one could make a couple fall in love, not even the matchmaking pros of Mule Hollow. There had to be that special connection. “Sparks,” as the ladies were fond of calling it—and they were hawks at spotting those romantic little embers. And it made them happy. And she was happy for them if that was what they wanted to do. She, on the other hand, was content to simply write her articles. She certainly didn’t have the knack for seeing sparks of a romantic nature. Now sparks of a disturbing nature—that just might be her niche!