Fannie Flagg - I Still Dream About You

BACK AT THE cemetery, as was usual on Easter morning, carloads of families started arriving with flowers. Maggie had completely forgotten how pretty children looked on Easter. When she went back to her car, she could hear her cell phone ringing away in her purse, to the tune of “I’m Looking Over a Four-Leaf Clover,” and she had to laugh, since she was holding a four-leaf clover in her hand at that exact moment.

She figured it was Brenda calling. “Hello… Happy Easter!”

“Maggie?”

“Yes?”

“Where the hell are you?”

“At the cemetery-”

“Jesus Christ!”

“Who’s this?”

“Babs Bingington. You haven’t done anything stupid yet, have you?”

“What?”

“You haven’t taken anything, have you?”

“What are you talking about?”

“What do you mean what am I talking about… I read your note.”

“What note?”

“The note you left in the kitchen…”

“What kitchen?”

“Your kitchen, you idiot!”

“My kitchen? What are you doing in my kitchen? What note? I didn’t leave you a note…”

“It says, ‘To Whom It May Concern.’ ”

Maggie felt all the blood drain from her body. Oh, no. And just when she’d thought there was going to be a happy ending.

Babs continued her tirade: “What the hell’s wrong with you, leaving a note like that? You must be nutty as a fruitcake. I’ve got a good mind to call the police.”

Maggie panicked. “Wait, please, don’t do anything. Just stay there, and let me come home and explain.”

“I don’t have time to wait around on you; I have to take my clients to the airport. But you need some serious help, sister.” And she hung up.

Just then, Mrs. Troupe heard Babs yelling in the kitchen and came in and asked, “Is there anything wrong?”

Babs cocked her head to one side, smiled, and said in her phony southern accent, “Why no, darlin’, not a thing.”

Maggie sat with the phone in her hand, wondering what to do. She tried speed-dialing Babs back, but Babs wouldn’t pick up. Of all the people in the world to find her letter, why did it have to be Babs? She had to somehow try to stop her from spreading it all over town, and knowing Babs, it would be just like her to post her letter on the Internet. Oh, God! She had to stop her before it was too late. She started the car and headed out to the airport as fast as she could. When she got there, she parked in front of the Southwest Airlines terminal and waited. This being Easter morning, the airport was almost deserted, and thank heavens, the airport police did not make her move her car the way they usually did. Fifteen minutes later, she saw Babs drive up in her big silver Lexus and let her clients out. Maggie pulled up behind her and got out and walked over just as Babs was smiling and waving goodbye. But as soon as Babs’s clients went inside the glass door, she turned and glared at Maggie. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Maggie leaned in the window on the passenger side and said, “Please, I really need to explain. Can I get in and talk to you for just a minute?”

Babs quickly pushed the locks on all the doors, and they snapped shut with a loud click. “No! I’m not letting you in my car. You’re as crazy as a loon; you might have a knife or a gun.”

Maggie stepped back. “All right, okay, but please, just meet me somewhere and let me talk to you. I need to explain to you about the letter. Please… just for a little bit… let me buy you a drink or coffee or something. It won’t take more than five minutes, I promise; just hear me out, and then you do whatever you want. But please just meet me somewhere.”

Babs looked at her for a moment, then looked at her watch and let out an exasperated sigh. “Well, all right, but I’m still going to the Board of Realtors first thing in the morning to get your license suspended. Where do you want to go?”

“Anywhere. You pick it.”

“Wait a minute. It’s Easter, there’s nothing open. Oh, forget it…”

Maggie desperately racked her brain and then said, “Meet me at Ruth’s Chris over at the Embassy Suites Hotel. I know they’ll be open; I’ll meet you there.”

Maggie ran and jumped back into her car and sped across town and arrived at the restaurant first. They were open and serving a lovely Easter brunch, but Maggie wasn’t interested in food. As she sat in the booth waiting for Babs, she was scared to death that she wouldn’t show up and that any second now, men in white coats would be coming through the door to cart her off. But to her relief, a few minutes later, Babs walked in and plopped down across from her. Maggie was a nervous wreck and when the waiter came over, she said, “I’ll have a Pink Squirrel, and make it a double.”

Babs looked at her and made a face. “A Pink Squirrel? Is that a joke? What’s a Pink Squirrel?”

“I don’t know, but it’s good.”

The waiter said, “It’s like a Grasshopper, only it’s pink.”

“All right, whatever,” said Babs. “Bring me one, too.”

After the waiter left, Maggie thought about telling Babs Hazel’s joke about a grasshopper named Harold to try to lighten the mood a bit, but she decided against it and started with “First of all, Babs, thank you so much for coming. I know it’s a big imposition, but before I say anything else, I want you to know that the letter you found doesn’t mean a thing. I wrote it at a time when… well, anyhow, I just didn’t expect anyone to find it.”

“What was it doing there, if you didn’t expect anybody to find it?”

“I had planned to go to the office this afternoon and shred it. It never occurred to me anyone would be coming to the house on Easter. Anyhow, I know it was very upsetting for you, and I’m sorry.”

Their drinks arrived, and Maggie slugged hers down in two gulps, then motioned to the waiter for another one and continued.

“When I wrote that letter, I wasn’t thinking very clearly. I may have been having some sort of a little mini-breakdown or something. I’ve had an awful lot of disappointments lately.”

“Oh, boo hoo, who hasn’t?” said Babs. “Are you sure you’re not just some nut job? That letter sounds wacko to me.”

Maggie had no good quick comeback to that.

“I think you need to go and have your head examined.”

“Well, you may be perfectly right about that, but in the meantime, I can assure you I’m not going to do anything stupid.”

Babs took a long sip of her drink and made a face. “God, this is sweet !” She looked at Maggie and said, “Not that I care, but I am curious. Just how were you planning to dispose of your own body?”

“Oh… well, if you promise not to tell anyone, I’ll tell you.”

When Maggie had finished telling her the entire plan from start to finish, Babs nodded and said, “Pretty good, but you forgot one thing.”

“What?”

“The raft. They have serial numbers. Somebody could have found it and traced it right back to you.”

Oh, dear… Babs was right. She hadn’t thought about that, but she didn’t want Babs to know it, so she leaned back and smiled. “Very true… however… there was absolutely no way that anybody would ever find that raft,” she said, while trying to quickly come up with a reason why not.

Thankfully, just then the waiter walked over with two more drinks and announced that they were from the nice man in the brown gabardine suit at the bar. Maggie smiled at him, pleasantly but not too friendly; she didn’t want to encourage him.

Babs said, “Well? How were you going to get rid of the raft?”

“Oh…” Maggie said, making it up as she went along. “Well… okay… so after I got out to the middle of the river, I was going to tie myself to the raft with a piece of clothesline.”