Impossible Dreams by Patricia Rice Page A

her enough to do what’s best for her, and dumping her in the arms of
a complete stranger is not best for her.” In his anger, he ignored his
inconsistency. “I think it may have been a mistake to allow her to grow
so attached to you. I’m withdrawing her from the school.”
    The baby kicked hard enough to hurt as Maya watched Axell
storm out. She probably deserved the kick, although it should have been a swift
one to the rear.
    With all his powerful connections, Axell Holm could easily
influence the wealthy parents of tuition-paying students to abandon her school,
leaving them with only the non-income producing scholarship students.
    It looked like her dream of settling in Wadeville was
dissolving faster than anticipated.

Five
    Support bacteria, they’re the only culture some people
have.
    “I would like to buy a gift for my
granddaughter.”
    At after two in the afternoon, Maya had expected the ringing
door chime to represent the arrival of her afternoon clerk. She’d
considered closing at two to save the expense of salary and taxes, but the
teenager Cleo had hired to handle the after-school browsers was desperately
proud of her job, and Maya didn’t have the heart to lay her off.
    Recognizing the haughty, rounded tones of Southern
aristocracy, Maya sighed and returned her feet to the floor. She’d
painted dragons to match Matty’s on her own inexpensive Keds. She thought
they’d turned out rather fine.
    Standing up to the counter, she smiled a greeting at a woman
with a helmet of blond hair. “How old is your granddaughter?” she
asked cheerfully. Cleo had a lovely assortment of imaginative gifts for
children. When not lost in drugs, her sister had a brilliant, creative mind.
Admittedly, the whimsy of a New Age shop was out of character, but Cleo would
have sold bent nails if it meant the independence she craved.
    “She’s only eight. I cannot imagine how anything
in here could be suitable, but she insists this is her favorite place.”
    Maya bit her lip and held her tongue — not a pretty sight, she
figured, but the best reaction she could summon. Very few children returned
here on a regular basis. Even fewer were younger than ten. Constance Holm was
one of them.
    She studied her customer more carefully, finding little of
elfin Constance in this polished matron. Women like this had to be stamped out
with cookie cutters: lacquered coiffures, gleaming lipstick, fashionable
designer suits, sensible pumps, and figures maintained by tennis, golf, and
private pools. Nothing about her screamed “maternal” or “loving”
or even “imaginative.” A child with an active mind like Constance
needed creative parenting. She should know; she’d been one.
    “Children of eight love fantasy,” Maya responded
quietly. She’d already ticked off Axell today. She didn’t need to
alienate his mother-in-law. “Most of the ones who come in here love the
kaleidoscopes. We have an assortment of varying artistic quality. The more
expensive are handmade. For a child of eight...”
    “Kaleidoscopes have no purpose.” She waved away
the suggestion with a manicured hand adorned with a diamond as big as a
robin’s egg. “Do you have any dolls? Books, perhaps?”
    Maya had never known Constance to show any interest in the
dolls at school, and this wasn’t a toy store. Reining in her impatience,
shifting from one aching foot to the other, she clung to her pleasant demeanor.
“There’s a wonderful children’s book store just down the
street. We don’t try to compete with them.”
    “But Constance says this is her favorite store. Surely
you must have something.”
    The woman seemed genuinely puzzled, as she should be,
perhaps. Cleo’s shop was cluttered and full of weird objects some of
whose purpose even Maya couldn’t discern, which was precisely why
children adored it.
    This was a small town. Use it to advantage, a small voice
whispered in her ear. Maybe Fate had steered this woman in here for a reason.
Having been