Dreamscapes

“Thanks for doing this,” Maggie breathed as they hurried into the art gallery from the frigid night.

“No worries. Anything for Jane.” Rob took Maggie’s coat, hat, and gloves and handed them with his winter gear to the coat check attendee. “It’s not every night that we get to be cool people that attend an art show premiere. Wine and passed hors d’oeuvres, what’s not to like?” Rob winked at Maggie and took her hand as they entered the gallery. “I just hope we’re not looking at a toilet in the middle of the room or three stripes on a canvas and expected to call it art.”

Maggie laughed. “No, Jane says this artist is amazing. Landscapes and scenic views that pull you right into them. She called them ‘dreamlike’. She said she would introduce us to the artist.”

“That would be cool, if she can find us.” Rob looked around the room. “Quite a crowd.”

“Yeah, Jane said there is a lot of buzz around this artist. She just kind of appeared out of nowhere with this incredible collection of paintings. I guess we should just wander through the exhibit and hopefully Jane will find us.”

Maggie and Rob began walking through the gallery, stopping to admire the paintings as they went. Maggie had to agree with Jane—the scenes were beautiful. The artist had managed to capture the beauty of a wide array of picturesque settings, including mountain views, seascapes, and forests. But there were also images with buildings, like a rural farm and a New England town green. Maggie agreed with Jane’s description of the paintings being “dreamlike.” They were realistic but at the same time, there was something ethereal about them.

At that moment, Maggie stopped in front of a large painting taking up an entire wall and caught her breath. It was an image of a New England seaside town, complete with lobster traps and dinghies just off the rocky shore. Maggie stepped back a few feet to take in the large painting. It immediately brought her back to her childhood, when her family visited the village where her father grew up on the coast of Connecticut. She remembered getting up early and walking with her father down to the shore, just taking in the sights, sounds, and smells. Dad would stop by the lobster seller’s shop and chat with the lobstermen while Maggie would peer into the large tank with the live lobsters. She could remember it all so clearly.

“Maggie! There you are!” Jane’s voice pulled Maggie out of her reverie. “I’m so glad you made it!” Jane gave Maggie a quick hug. She was standing next to a sturdy-looking woman of medium height, probably in her 70s with a long gray braid hanging down her back. “This is the artist we are celebrating tonight, Mary Fitzsimmons. Mary, my good friend Maggie Johnston.”

“Ms. Fitzsimmons, it is an honor to meet you. Jane has been raving about your work for months. My husband Rob and I are thrilled to be here tonight. He’s around here somewhere.” Maggie searched through the crowd to find him when he suddenly appeared next to her.

“Apologies, I was lost in a sea of wildflowers,” Rob explained. He turned to Mary and extended his hand. “You must be the artist of these marvelous works.”

“Yes, yes, thank you for your kind words. A pleasure to meet you both. Frankly, I’m a bit overwhelmed by all this attention. I just paint what I am feeling. I’m happy that people have such a positive reaction to my paintings.”

Mary had held on to Rob’s hand while she spoke. Now she turned to Rob and looked into his eyes. “Tell me, young man, what drew you to my wildflowers?”

Rob smiled at Mary. There was something very calming about her demeanor even as she held his gaze unwaveringly. “When I was little, I used to spend my vacations and summers with my grandparents in the country. They had a small farm and there was a field filled with wildflowers where my grandmother tended her honeybees. Your painting brought me right back to those summer days when I would run through those fields and spend time with my grandmother harvesting the honey from the hives.”

“Thank you for sharing your story with me. It always makes me so happy when my work connects with people.” Mary released Rob’s hand and turned to Maggie. “And you, my dear. I saw you losing yourself in my seaside village. What does this scene mean to you?”

Maggie told Mary about her memory of walking along the seashore with her father.

Mary took Maggie’s hand and peered into her eyes. “Is your father no longer with us?” she asked quietly.

Maggie nodded and felt her eyes well up. “We lost him 10 years ago, quite suddenly. I miss him terribly, but your painting brought back memories of happy times in a happy place.”

“Good, I’m glad my painting brought you a little solace.” Mary patted Maggie’s hand.

Rob put his arm around Maggie, and thankfully Jane jumped in to pull Mary away. “Mary, we should keep moving. There are a lot of people dying to meet you.”

Mary turned back to Rob and Maggie. “So nice to meet you both. If you’ll excuse me, I think I’m being handled, “ she said with a grin as Jane led her over to meet more people.

Maggie and Rob looked at each other. “What an interesting character!” Maggie murmured. Rob nodded in agreement.

They stayed at the event a little while longer, enjoying the rest of Mary’s paintings and some food and drink.

When they got home that evening, Maggie and Rob both felt drained and went straight to bed. Thankfully tomorrow was Saturday and they didn’t have any plans.

As Maggie drifted off to sleep, Mary’s seaside village painting filled her thoughts.

The dream began with Maggie waking up in bed next to Rob, sunlight pouring into the bedroom. Wow, it must be late, she thought. Rob was still asleep, so she got out of bed as quietly as she could and walked down the hall. But suddenly the hallway wasn’t in their apartment—she was walking toward the main dining room and kitchen in her grandparents’ house.

She could smell pancakes cooking. There was her father standing at the stove, spatula in hand, ready to flip the pancakes. “Daddy!” Maggie exclaimed.

Her father turned and smiled at her. “Good morning, sweetheart. Can I make you a stack? Butter and syrup are on the table.”

“Yes, please.” Having pancakes early on weekend mornings was their tradition, while everyone else was still sleeping. Now they both were sitting at the table eating their pancakes, Dad with a cup of coffee and Maggie with a glass of orange juice. Everything felt warm and comfortable.

Then suddenly they were in front of the house, walking down the hill towards the water. It was one of those late spring/early summer mornings when the air was clear and felt a little cool, but Maggie wasn’t cold. The sky was blue, and the sun was shining brightly. Maggie could smell the scents coming up from the water in the light breeze—a comforting combination of salt, seaweed, and fish, with a hint of diesel from the fishing and lobster boats. She breathed it all in.

“I’ve missed you so much, Dad.”

Her father smiled. “I have missed you, too. I’m so sorry I couldn’t be at your wedding. I was watching, though.”

“I felt your presence. You would love Rob. He is a lot like you. I really wish you could have met him.” The walk down the hill towards the shore seemed infinite, but Maggie didn’t mind. Everything was perfect.

“I can see that he makes you happy,” her father said. “So…are you thinking about making me a grandfather?”

Maggie laughed. “We’re discussing it. You sound like Mom.”

“I think now is the right time. Maybe you’ll move out of the city and buy a house.” Dad nodded in that old familiar way when he was giving advice. At the breakfast table, he had been the younger version of her father, the one she knew when she was little. Suddenly now he was the older version, with gray, thinned hair and his reading glasses perched on the end of his nose, making him appear extremely wise.

“We would love to buy a house. I just wish you were there to help me with the landscaping,” Maggie said wistfully. “My patio and house plants have been kind of a disaster. I could use your help in cultivating my green thumb.”

“You’ll be just fine. I know it,” he replied. They had magically reached the bottom of the hill and were standing by the stone wall looking out over the sound. “I love you.”

Maggie looked into her father’s face and replied, “I love you, too.”

Maggie awoke at that moment and felt an overwhelming sense of serenity and calm. She smiled to herself and let out a long, contented sigh. Rob turned toward her in the bed and put his arm around her waist.

“Good morning, honey,” he murmured into her hair. “Did you sleep well? I just woke from the most amazing dream.”

“Me, too,” replied Maggie. “Would you believe that I was at the Connecticut shore spending time with my father?”

“Huh.” Rob paused. “I was at my grandparents’ farm in Vermont helping my grandmother collect the honey and getting life advice. Everything was so real, I could smell the flowers. And the manure.”

Maggie turned over so that she was facing Rob in their bed. “Wow, how weird is that? Those paintings last night really got into our heads. I have dreamed about my father before, but this one felt so real.”

The memory of the dream stuck with Maggie as she got out of bed and headed toward the kitchen. She had to check in with Jane. While the morning pot of coffee was brewing, Maggie texted her. “Thx for inviting us last night! Had a great time.”

Jane texted back, “Thank you so much for coming! It was great to see you.”

Maggie responded, “We really enjoyed the show. In fact, Rob and I both had dreams about Mary’s paintings.”

“Did you dream about your father?” Jane texted back immediately.

“Yes.”

“And Rob dreamt about his grandmother?”

“Yes, how…”

“Calling.”

Maggie picked up the incoming call from Jane right away. “It’s Mary’s paintings, “ Jane blurted. “Do you remember the one in the Japanese garden?”

“Yes, it was beautiful, “ Maggie responded.

“The day I met Mary, she showed me that painting and I was transfixed. It brought me back to San Francisco’s Japanese Tea Garden, where I used to go every week with my grandfather when I was little. It reminded him of his youth in Japan, and it was so peaceful there.” Jane continued, “That night, I dreamt I was in that garden with Jiji. It was amazing. We talked about everything going on in my life and he gave me some great advice. It was so real, that’s the thing.”

Maggie nodded, even though Jane couldn’t see her. “It’s like her paintings have some magical power, helping us to connect with people we have lost.”

“Exactly, “ Jane responded. “Just one thing. I have been with Mary and these paintings on a regular basis for the last few months, but I have never had that same dream again, at least not in the same detail. You and Rob should write everything down to preserve your memories.”

“Good idea. Thanks, Jane. Enjoy the rest of the weekend!”

“You, too. Say hi to Rob for me.” They ended the call.

Rob had poured Maggie a cup of coffee. They sat down at the kitchen table together, each lost in the memory of their dreams.

“So, what life advice did you get from your grandmother?” Maggie finally asked Rob.

“She told me that it’s high time we got to work making some babies. Nana was never one to mince words.” Rob grinned at her.

“Funny, my father said the same thing. I think we should take this as a sign.” Maggie leaned forward to give Rob a kiss. “A sign sent through a couple of magical paintings.”