5. Lydia

5

LYDIA

T he gallery was jam-packed today, especially for a Tuesday. I haven't had any time to talk to Violet, but maybe that was a good thing. If I told her about my dream, she'd think I was crazy. Never have I ever had a dream so vivid and real.

I'd just finished ringing up a customer who bought a wooden bear sculpture by one of our local artists when Violet came out from the back of the store, her face pale and eyes weak. She didn't look well at all.

"Hey, you didn't look like that this morning," I called out.

Violet reached into her pocket and pulled out a tissue, rubbing it under her nose. "I didn't feel like this earlier this morning." Her voice sounded nasally and hoarse. Groaning, she leaned against the wall and sneezed into the tissue. "I think I'm coming down with something."

Her purse was behind the counter, and I grabbed it and held it out for her. "And I think you need to go home. I can handle things here. We don't need you spreading your germs."

Looking frail, she reached for her purse and sighed. I could see it on her face that she didn't want to leave me to run the store by myself.

"I'll be fine," I assured her. "I can handle the customers on my own."

She frowned. "You sure?"

I waved her on and pointed at the door. "Yes, now go."

She looked pitiful as she walked up the stairs to her apartment. It was five o'clock, so I had only two hours until the store closed. My parents always kept the gallery open longer hours during the holidays to give more people time to come in, and it was something I thought we should continue doing. Between me and Violet, it was easy to be flexible; I didn't mind the longer hours. It wasn't as if I had someone to go home to.

The door opened, making the bells jingle. I looked up from the desk to see Margaret standing before me, her grin angelic and wide.

"Hi," I said and laughed, shocked at how fast she got over to me. It was as if she appeared out of nowhere.

Margaret clasped her hands in front of her. "Good afternoon, Lydia. Been busy today?"

She wore a different red sweater from yesterday, but there was still a sprig of mistletoe wrapped in glittery ribbon pinned just below her collarbone.

I chuckled again. "Of course. And I'm not complaining in the least. I love being busy." I glanced around the store and sighed. "Violet just left, though. She wasn't feeling well."

Margaret clucked her tongue. "It's probably the flu. Unfortunately, it's going around right now."

"Let's just hope we don't get it," I added.

Margaret nodded and laughed. "Exactly."

"Are you here to pick up your paintings?" I asked.

She nodded again. "I am. Is it a good time?"

"Of course it is." I waved for her to follow me. "Come with me to the back, and I'll help you carry them to your car."

Margaret smiled. "That would be amazing. Thank you."

She followed me to the storage room where both paintings she bought had been bubble-wrapped in a million layers. I handed her the smallest painting that didn't weigh as much, and I took the larger one.

"Lead the way," I said as we left the storage room.

Margaret opened the gallery door and held it wide for me. "My car is right over there."

I followed her line of sight to a yellow 1974 Volkswagen Beetle Super Convertible. When I turned sixteen, it was the car I wanted, but no one nearby was selling one. My mouth dropped open in awe as I stared at it.

"You have got to be kidding me."

I looked over at Margaret and she giggled. "Do you like it?"

"Uh, I love it," I answered. "I've wanted a car like that for forever."

We walked over to it, and I couldn't help but admire its pristine condition when she opened the passenger's side door. The interior dash was all black, and the white leather seats appeared as if they'd never been sat in. There wasn't a stain or speck of dirt anywhere.

"If you ever decide to sell this thing, you let me know," I said seriously.

Margaret placed the painting she carried carefully in the back seat and reached for mine, setting it beside the other.

"I will be happy to." Once they were secure, she shut the door smiled. "Thank you for helping me put them in the car."

"You're welcome."

As I stared at her, she looked exactly like she did in my dream, even down to the freckles that spanned across her cheeks and nose.

"Have a good evening, Lydia," she said, circling over to the driver's side.

"You too," I replied.

I walked toward the gallery door, but something stopped me, and I turned back and called out Margaret's name. She opened her door slowly and cocked her head to the side, peering at me curiously but also in a way as if she knew I was going to stop her.

"Is there something on your mind, child?" she asked.

I didn't want to tell her how she was in my dream because that would be strange, especially since I barely knew her.

"Do you work around here?" I questioned.

Her lips spread into a mischievous grin. "I do, but not for money. I like to volunteer at different places. I'm spending my Christmas at one of the retirement homes close by. I really enjoyed it when I volunteered there two years ago."

My dream came flooding back into my mind. In it, Margaret was at my grandmother's retirement home.

"Which retirement home?" I questioned, my mind reeling in a million different directions.

Margaret waved and started to get into her car. "It was Willow Creek, dear. I have to go now, but I'm sure I'll see you again soon."

She left so fast I didn't even have a chance to stop her. Willow Creek Village was where my grandmother lived. It was strange that Margaret said she was there two years ago, when she appeared in my dream that took place in Willow Creek also two years ago. Weird coincidence.

"Lydia, you okay?"

I turned and saw Hailey staring at me curiously. I felt like I was losing my mind. So many weird things were happening to me.

"I'm fine," I said, watching Margaret's Beetle disappear down the street. "Just some crazy feelings of déjà vu."

Hailey giggled. "Yeah, I get that a lot." She moved closer and shivered against the cold. Then again, she was in a short-sleeved shirt and jeans so I could see why she was freezing. "Want to come over tomorrow night for dinner and drink a bottle of wine? Oliver will be in his shop working on his motorcycle and probably out there for hours."

I nodded. "Sounds good to me." I could tell her all about my crazy dream.

I stayed at the gallery until eight o'clock, which wasn't bad since I'd made several sales during that extra hour. It was all worth it. But now, I was tired, and my stomach felt as if it would turn in on itself because I was so hungry.

When I arrived home, I heated up a Tupperware of frozen spaghetti I'd made a few weeks ago. Being thirty and single, I didn't see the need to cook dinner for myself every day. But in all reality, I did love to cook. One day, I'd be able to do it more when I had someone to share it with.

After eating and watching a few minutes of a new Christmas movie on TV, it was closing in at ten o'clock. My eyelids were beginning to get heavy, so I turned off the television and trudged to my bedroom to change into my flannel pajamas. I didn't want to fall asleep on the couch again.

I crawled into bed, snuggled underneath the covers, and quickly texted Violet since it was late.

Me: Hey sis! I hope you're getting some rest and feeling better.

Violet: I feel awful. Think you can handle the gallery on your own tomorrow?

Me: Of course! You just rest. I'll see you when you get better. Let me know if you need anything!

Violet: Will do. Mom brought over a big pot of chicken noodle soup and chocolate chip cookies. I think I'm good for now . . . lol.

Me: Must be nice! Maybe I need to get sick.

Violet: Trust me, you don't want this flu. It's no fun.

No, I didn't want it, but I remember our mother making me vegetable beef soup and brownies the last time I had it. I set my phone on the nightstand and turned off the lamp. It didn't take long to drift off and find myself in a dream that felt like the one from the previous night.

Lydia's dream

Transported back in time to Christmas Eve - One year ago

A s I looked up at the sky, it was gray, and it was chilly in the quaint little park in downtown Blowing Rock. However, a steaming cup of hazelnut coffee with a little dash of creamer to give it a hint of sweetness kept me company. Every square inch of Main Street was decked out for Christmas. When I glanced down at my sweater, I recognized it as the one I made with Violet just last year. It had a big Rudolph in the middle with twinkling lights wrapped in its antlers that actually lit up. I thought it was cute.

"Looks like it's going to snow, but I don't think it's going to," a voice called out, making my heart jump in my chest.

I jerked my head to the side to see Margaret sitting beside me, sipping what smelled like hot chocolate as she stared out at the park fountain.

"Seriously," I said, holding a hand to my chest, "do you, like, poof in and out or something? You weren't here a second ago."

Margaret wore the same red sweater with her glittery ribbon-wrapped mistletoe and black pants. She tilted her head back and laughed when she looked at me. "I guess you can say that. I do like to make a quick entrance and exit sometimes."

"Well, it's getting kind of strange with you being in my dreams again."

She shook her head, her brown eyes twinkling mischievously. "Who says you're in a dream?"

"Because I know we are," I said matter-of-factly. "I remember falling asleep. Besides, I only wore this sweater once, and that was last Christmas Eve."

"What all happened last year?" Margaret asked.

I shrugged. "Not much. All I did was walk around downtown and go to Hailey's family Christmas party like I do every year."

Margaret chuckled lightly. "So, do you think you might've missed an opportunity last year? I mean, you met Max in your dream last night."

"Whoa," I exclaimed, holding a hand up. "All of this is so freaking strange. How is it even possible that you're in my dreams again?"

Margaret smirked. "Maybe because it's magic. Everything will make sense soon. All you have to do is keep your eyes open like I told you in last night's dream. You met Max, and now it's time to meet someone else, someone who also has the potential to be more to you."

The absurdity of the whole situation made me burst out laughing.

"You know, these dreams are pretty crazy. Am I going to have another tomorrow night where I meet a third guy?" I quipped.

Margaret shook her head. "Sorry, dear. This is the last dream I can give you. After this one, you'll return to dreaming about having superpowers and flying." She tried to hide her smile and failed. "Oh, and zombies."

My breath hitched and I stared at her. "How did you know I dream about zombies?"

She winked. "I told you . . . magic. And let's hope that if we do have a zombie apocalypse, you have more than a fork to defend yourself."

My mind was blown. Only Hailey knew about my zombie dreams and that I never had any weapons besides a large fork. She always got a good laugh when I told her about them.

"You know," I said, laughing. "I didn't realize I had an imagination this crazy. Of course, you know everything about me. I keep wondering how you're here, but it's just my mind concocting all of this up."

Margaret chuckled. "I can't wait for you to wake up and realize all this is real. I know everything about you, Lydia. You're a good person and you deserve to find your happiness. That's why I'm giving you the chance. It's up to you to figure out which path you want to take. One led you to Max and the other . . ." She shrugged and stood, nodding toward the walkway that led you through a nature trail in the park. "Who knows. You have to find him. Why don't you take a walk? You said all you did last Christmas Eve was walk around downtown and go to Hailey's party. Maybe on your walk, you ignored what was around you." She grinned and winked. "I'm going to say this for the last time . . . keep your eyes open."

"Two paths, huh?" I said, peering up at the sky and taking a deep breath. When I lowered my head to look at her again, Margaret was gone.

Shaking my head, I took a sip of my coffee and stood. "All right, Margaret. I'm going for a walk."

In reality, I didn't take the nature trail last year, but it was still early in the morning. Not many people were out and about on Main Street, but that was probably because it was Christmas Eve, and everyone was getting prepped for those big holiday get-togethers. Last year, Hailey wanted me to make Christmas crack for her family party, and I had to make two batches because I ate so much of it. There was going to be nothing to bring if I didn't make two. It was easy to make, just Graham crackers, homemade caramel, and white chocolate.

The trail through the park wasn't long, and I highly doubted there would be a good-looking man around my age wandering around on his own. The thought made me laugh.

"Keep your eyes open, Lydia," I said, repeating Margaret's words.

I continued to walk on the path and was all alone. I finished my coffee and was about to turn around and head back the way I came when something blue caught my attention in the woods. As I got closer, I could see a man wearing a blue coat and crouching down close to the creek bank with a camera help up to his face. Was he the other guy Margaret was talking about?

I leaned against a tree and listened to his camera click every time he took a photograph. I was curious to see what he saw through the lenses, but what I really wanted was to see his face. He had tousled, sandy blond hair and an athletic build. From what I could tell, he had to be in his early thirties.

"Getting anything good?" I called out. My voice startled him, and he lost his balance, falling right into the mud and leaves. I slapped a hand over my mouth and gasped. "Oh my God, are you okay?" Luckily, he held his camera up and didn't let it fall. I rushed through the trees and tried not to slip on the wet leaves on my way down to him. "Please, please, please forgive me."

The guy stood, and I got a good look at his face. He had warm caramel-colored eyes that exuded friendliness and curiosity, and a genuine and sweet smile.

"There's nothing to forgive," he said, hanging his camera around his neck. "A little mud doesn't hurt. Besides, I got some great photos." He wiped his hand on his jeans and held it out to me. "I'm Ben Davis."

"Lydia Scott," I replied, shaking his hand. I nodded down at his camera. "Do you take photos for a living, or is it a hobby?" I was always looking for photographers to showcase their work in the gallery.

His laugh was easygoing and charming. "Well, I'm hoping to make a career of it. I just have to find my big break." It all started to make sense. I wondered if he was the guy I was supposed to look for.

"I don't know about a big break," I began, "but it just so happens I have a gallery that has plenty of room for amazing photographs. I'd love to see what you do."

His eyes widened with unbridled hope. "Seriously? This is amazing."

He pulled his camera off from around his neck and skimmed through dozens of his photos. They were all of nature. My favorite was of a dew drop on a leaf with the sun shining through it. Every single picture looked magical; they took my breath away.

"Ben, these are fantastic," I breathed in awe. "I don't have anything like this in my gallery." I stared at him with complete and utter fascination; he had a lot of talent. If only he was real and not just someone in my dreams.

Ben beamed and glanced down at his camera. "Thanks, Lydia. I would love for people to see my work."

"Then it's settled," I said. "We can get together after the holidays and pick out your favorite prints. Several local photographers have had their work showcased in magazines because their prints were in my store."

His smile faded and he sighed. "I want that more than anything, but I'm leaving the day after Christmas for England. I'm attending a photography art school, and I'll be gone for the whole year. But I would love to get back with you when I return."

Even though we were just in a dream, I couldn't help but feel a little disappointed. Ben was leaving for an entire year. How was he supposed to be one of my paths if he was leaving the country? Maybe I got it all wrong, and he wasn't the one I was supposed to look for.

It just so happened that I always carried business cards with me. I pulled one out of my coat pocket and handed it to him. "Stop by the gallery when you get back to town. We'll get your prints up for display. I know several people who'd pay good money for your work." One of those people happened to be me.

Ben slid my business card into his jacket pocket and smiled. "I already can't wait to get back." He glanced down at his watch, and then his eyes returned to mine. "I should probably go. I have a lot to pack, and of course, there are all the family parties I have to go to. This morning was the only time I had for myself."

That made me laugh. "I understand that. Then again, I love being busy at the holidays."

"Merry Christmas, Lydia," Ben murmured.

"Merry Christmas to you."

He started to walk off down the path and the world around me started to fade. I thought I was waking up from the dream . . . but I was wrong.