I Still Dream About You

So Much Hope

THE YEAR MAGGIE WAS MISS ALABAMA, THE MISS AMERICA PAGEANT was the most-watched show on television, other than the Academy Awards. Every September, millions of people tuned in to see who would be crowned Miss America, which girl would walk down the runway, clutching her bouquet of roses and crying, while Bert Parks, the master of ceremonies, sang “There She Is, Miss America.” Certainly, everybody in Alabama would be watching, pulling for their girl to win. Just like Alabama football, it was a matter of state pride. Before Maggie had left for Atlantic City, hundreds of little girls from all over the state had written her, wishing her luck, and every mayor from every town in Alabama had sent her an official good-luck message.

That year in particular, with all the negative press Alabama had received, more than ever their state needed something they could be proud of. Maggie was very aware of how much people were depending on her to do well, and she was so scared she might let them down that she could hardly breathe. But she needn’t have been. On the first night of preliminary judging in Atlantic City, she wowed the judges with her harp and her looks. By the second day of judging, every wire service, including the AP and UPI, had her placed number one to win. Even Jimmy the Greek, who took bets on these things, had her as the odds-on favorite, and reporters had already started calling her hotel room, clamoring for an interview. Jo Ellen O’Hara, who was covering the Miss America Pageant for the Birmingham News sent off nightly press releases that became the next morning’s headlines back home.

M ISS ALABAMA WINS PRELIMINARY

EVENING GOWN COMPETITION!

Last night, Margaret Fortenberry, wearing an elegant white gown from Loveman’s department store, swept her way to victory again.

In the days leading up to the big night, the judges privately all agreed that they were very impressed with the girl from Alabama. Although there were many talented and pretty girls from other states, she had that certain poise and loveliness they were looking for, that special something; she was someone every little girl in America could look up to and aspire to become one day.

Back in Alabama, people tried their best not to be too optimistic, but as the good news kept coming in, they started planning parades and homecoming ceremonies across the state. They knew by the third day that unless something terribly unforeseen happened, Miss Alabama was going to be the new Miss America.

Maggie understood that if by some chance she were to win, it would mean being awarded thousands of dollars in prize money and numerous network television appearances, and she would become a national celebrity overnight, and her life would be changed forever. But for Maggie, the most important thing about becoming Miss America that year was that it would give her the opportunity to travel all around the country and tell people all the good things about her state, about all the nice people who lived there.

Only something unforeseen happened, and she never got the chance.

MAGGIE WAS STILL sitting at her desk with a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach over the news about Babs. She realized now (too late) that she should never have called David in the first place. What had she been thinking? Oh, God… just another bad decision. She guessed the only good thing was that now she could finally stop obsessing over it and concentrate on the task at hand. Time was running short and there was still a lot she had to do. And if the worst did happen and Crestview was torn down, it was probably best that she not be around to see it.

She looked at the clock. It was time to go into the office. Since she was leaving Monday morning, today would be her last day at work, and she still had a few things to shred, so she went out and got in the car. On the way over, she decided she wouldn’t tell Ethel and Brenda about Babs getting the listing for Crestview. Why ruin their weekend? They would find out soon enough.

When she got to the office, Ethel was still at the beauty shop; Friday was her day to have her hair and eyebrows tinted, and Brenda and Maggie were just sitting around in Maggie’s office, so Maggie thought this might be a good time to try to drop another hint about her upcoming departure. She took an emery board out of her desk drawer and started filing her nails so she would look casual.

“Hey, Brenda,” she said, looking down at her hands, “did you ever think of just giving it all up?”

Brenda looked over at her. “You mean real estate? Every day.”

“No… I mean just giving up… in general, you know?”

Brenda didn’t say anything, but kept listening. Maggie continued: “I don’t think it means that a person is weak or a coward. Sometimes they might be so tired, they just can’t go on. What do you think?”

Brenda didn’t answer and, after a moment, stood up and went over and shut the door. She sat back down with a serious expression on her face and looked Maggie straight in the eye.

“Maggie, as a friend, can I ask you something?”

Maggie suddenly felt nervous and thought maybe she had gone too far. But she said, “Okay.”

“And will you tell me the truth?”

“If I can, Brenda… yes.”

Brenda paused, then said, “Do you think I should get my stomach stapled?”

“What?”

“Do you think I should get my stomach stapled?”

Maggie was relieved, but disappointed at the same time. “Oh… well, honey, I don’t know… what does Robbie think?”

“She says I’m not fat enough for the operation; she thinks my losing weight is just a matter of willpower, but it’s not. I can lose the weight. It’s the keeping it off that I can’t do. I’m tempted to sneak over to another hospital and have it done behind her back and not tell her until it’s over, but with my luck, I’d die on the table. Then she’d really be mad.” She sighed. “But at this point, if I die, I die… who cares? I’m tired of eating rabbit food.”

“Oh, good Lord, Brenda, don’t talk like that; you have so many people who love you and would miss you terribly. You’re not like me. I don’t have people who would care like you do.”

Brenda dismissed her with a wave. “Oh, right, Maggie, nobody cares about you. Every man in this town would have a fit if anything happened to you.”

“That’s not true, Brenda… I don’t know why you say that.”

“Because it’s true! You could have any man you wanted if you just crooked your little finger. Robbie said that Dr. Thorneyhill said he would love to take you out. He’s a brain surgeon; do you know how much they make? You’d better grab him now.”

“Brenda, don’t change the subject. You wouldn’t really have an operation without telling Robbie, would you?”

“No, I guess not, but don’t think I don’t think about it. I tried to explain to her that I don’t eat too much; I just have a lower metabolism than she does. But you can’t make a point with Robbie; she’s a nurse, and they think they know everything.” She then looked at Maggie. “On second thought, forget about that Dr. Thorneyhill. Stay away from health professionals; they’re just a big pain in the ass. Trust me.”

Maggie could see there was no use to keep trying with Brenda. She had done her best, but it was impossible to drop a subtle hint to her about anything. She hated it, but unfortunately, Brenda was just going to have to be surprised along with the rest.

Just then, Ethel came banging into the office in a fit. They went out to see what she was yelling about and understood immediately why she was so upset. Her hair was not the pretty light lavender they were used to. It was more the color of Welch’s grape jelly.

“What happened?” asked Brenda.

“What happened? I’ll tell you what happened. The new girl Lucille hired can’t read what’s written on the side of the box, that’s what happened. I said, ‘Jesus, Lucille, I don’t give a hoot if you hire an illegal alien or not, but you ought to make sure they can read English before you let them dye someone’s hair.’ I just hope to God it grows out by Thanksgiving, I’ve got a show to do!”

Maggie tried to make her feel better and said, “Ethel… it’s not really that bad.” But it was.