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, shewasin a short-sleeved shirt and jeans so I could see why she was freezing. “Wantto 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.
Istayed 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, Ididlove 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
As 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 themiddle 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.”
