Magnolia Storms Page 6

Finally, she looked Josh’s way, her dark eyes narrowing. “A misunderstanding, okay? Is it acceptable if I check to see if Dahlia has any, just for today?”

  “Please, Daddy?”

  They had him at captain cereal. “Just for today, sailor?”

  “Yes, sir.” J.D.’s head nodded.

  “Carry on then, sir. And ma’am.” Josh saluted them both and held back a smile. The two looked so perfect together. “Can I have some, too? I have to go to the hardware store before I can finish this job anyway.”

  Something like a growl vibrated in Maggie’s throat. “Seriously?”

  “I’m not one of those fly-by-night installers who throws on shutters without the proper tools, ma’am.”

  Trudging forward, Maggie sighed. “I’ve got to figure out if Dahlia has school and open the store.”

  He followed them through the garage and into the kitchen. “You don’t have to be here for me to do the job. You can trust me.”

  “Humph. We’ll see. Not that I have much choice.” Maggie set to work, searching out a box of captain cereal which could’ve been any of them as far as J.D. knew. She found the real deal. The blue-and-white bowls clinked as she set them on the counter and threw a spoon in each. She turned Josh’s way with raised eyebrows. “You just gonna watch?” The dark eyes drilled into him.

  “Huh?” Boy, she had him mesmerized.

  “You could get the milk if you wanted to be useful. Can I trust you with that?” A slight tease filtered through her harsh words.

  “Oh. Yeah.” He’d been caught staring, enjoying the view of her piddling around the kitchen with J.D. on her hip. He grabbed the carton from the refrigerator and waited until she filled two bowls with cereal. “Aren’t you eating?”

  “I need to wake Dahlia first. The school is still open last I heard.”

  He poured milk over one bowl and took it to the table. “I’ll let the captain get started, and I’ll wait to have mine, too.”

  “Why?”

  What she didn’t know about kids could be hazardous to all their health. Mental and otherwise. “You might need all hands on deck to get that one out of bed.”

  THE SMIRK ON JOSH’S face poked at Maggie’s nerves. Again. She’d not asked for his help, but of course, he was on her heels like he owned the place. He wasn’t the captain of this ship. She trudged to Dahlia’s room and flicked on the light. “Good morning, sunshine.”

  “Turn that off.” A pillow covered Dahlia’s head. “What are you doing?” A grumpy snarl arose from under the lime green lump.

  “You need to get ready for school. Do you ride the bus, or does your mom drive you?” Keeping one’s voice perky took a lot of patience. Maggie pinned up her lips in a grin.

  Hands reached out and punched the pillow tighter over the bulge that was Dahlia’s head. No answer.

  “Dahlia, let’s rise and shine and give God the glory.” That’s what her mom had always said. Maggie sat on the edge of the bed and rubbed what looked to be the girl’s shoulder. “Come on. We’re serving up Captain Crunch in the mess hall.” Did she really use the term mess hall? Just like her dad. What this place did to her in a day...

  “I’m not going to school.”

  “What? You don’t have school today?” Probably a fib. “I better check the website again to be sure.”

  “We have school.” The pillow spoke again. “I’m not going.”

  Josh stepped closer to the bed. “Um, Maggie—”

  “Why aren’t you going?” Maggie shot her toughest back-off look at Josh.

  “You might need help at the store.”

  “I’ll manage, sweetie. You don’t have to worry. I’m here to take care of things.”

  An elbow nudged her. Apparently Josh thought he should interrupt. He mouthed words, but she waved him off.

  “Aunt Maggie, we’re not doing anything except making Thanksgiving crafts, and my mother was practically killed in a tragic accident, and I am not going to school.”

  Emotion punctuated Dahlia’s words and quivered in Dahlia’s voice.

  The sentiment wrestled against Maggie’s resolve. She hadn’t considered how deeply the accident had affected her niece. Seeing one’s mother injured and then taken away in an ambulance must have been traumatic. How awful for a child to endure.

  Yet Dahlia had carried Josh’s son home, made the call for help, and cared for J.D. until she arrived. Dahlia was strong, but still a little girl. Maggie cut her gaze toward Josh, who wore a look that spoke duh. So that’s what he was trying to tell her. He might know a bit more about children than she did. He was probably a good father.

  “Sweetie, your mom’s going to get better. I was with her before I came home.” Of course, Cammie had looked about the same as she had the night before. Groggy and beat up.

  The sheets rustled as Dahlia turned over and finally poked out her head. “Like my grandma? She never got better. Or Grandpa? I never even got to meet him.” Worry carved a line between her brows.

  The words knifed Maggie’s chest. “It’s nothing like what happened to my mother or my father. Your mom will be home before you know it.” Please, Lord, let that be true. And let her be walking.

  “I wish I’d known Grandpa. It would’ve been cool to have a dad like him.” Dahlia eyed Josh.

  Bending to one knee beside the bed, Josh offered a tender smile. “Your grandpa was like a father to me when I needed one. I could return the favor. Teach you to fish and take you sailing—”

  Wait...what was he offering? To be her niece’s father? And sailing? “No. Not sailing.” Maggie’s voice came out too harsh.

  Both heads twisted toward her.

  “I mean, let’s talk about this later. You don’t have to go to school. You can come to the store with me.”

  “Well, if I’m staying home, can I sleep in? You can come get me at lunch. Or I’ll walk over when I wake up. It’s only two blocks.”

  The girl was good. She had to give her that. “Okay, mini-me, that wasn’t the deal.”

  J.D. took that moment to appear and jump onto the bed. “I’ll go to the store with you, Miss Maggie.” Milk circled his mouth as he smiled.

  If that wasn’t the most precious thing she’d ever seen... “You sure ate quickly. Did you finish all your cereal?”

  “Yes, ma’am. I like the Captain. Can we buy some more?”

  Josh leaned across the bed and scooped his son up in one fell swoop. “We’ll see. And you can stay home and be Daddy’s helper today.”

  “But I want to go with Miss Maggie.” J.D.’s brows met above his nose.

  His expression caught hold of Maggie’s heart. Kids usually didn’t give her this much attention. Of course, she hadn’t been around many besides Jane’s kids and Dahlia. She hated to disappoint him. “I guess I could take him. Do you have some kind of sling I can carry him around in?”

  That drew a laugh from both Josh and Dahlia.

  At last, her niece sat up. “He’s not a baby, Aunt Maggie.”

  “What about a backpack? I’ve seen bigger kids in those.”

  “There’s not room to walk around with a backpack in an antique store.” Dahlia rolled her eyes. “Next stupid idea.”

  “Stupid idea? I’ll give you a—”

  “Hey.” Josh stood and pressed his forehead against J.D.’s. “I need my first mate and Dahlia to stay with me this morning. It’ll take all hands on deck to get the shutters up, and then we’ll pick up lunch for everyone and go hang out with Maggie at the store.”

  “That could work.” The man did have a smidgen of sense. Maybe. Sometimes. But what did he mean by hang out? Not him, too, surely. He had to know she didn’t want him distracting her.

  Like he was already.

  She had a headache as it was.

  “I’ll see if Aunt Ruth is up.” She’d have to have someone familiar with how to run the business. Maggie smiled at the children and then made her way down the dark hall to Aunt Ruth’s room. A faint glow came from under her great aunt’s door.
And the scent of Chanel perfume, a fragrance both Aunt Ruth and Mama loved.

  Memories surrounded her, almost swallowing her...

  Mama and Cammie moving in with Aunt Ruth after Katrina once new sheetrock had been put in.

  Mama hoping against hope Daddy would be found and they’d rebuild on the old foundation a few blocks over.

  Then reality had struck.

  More like reality had slapped them silly. Daddy was never coming back. The insurance company wasn’t going to cover what they deemed flood damage. Cammie was pregnant and would have to quit her classes at Tulane and come home to take care of a baby while Mama went back to work. All three women had insisted that Maggie go back to Mississippi State and get on with her life. As if...

  The door creaked open, and Aunt Ruth appeared. “Oh! What are you doing, Maggie? You scared the life out of me, like seeing a ghost standing there.”

  “Sorry.” She knew the feeling. “I was just about to knock.” Aunt Ruth was dressed to the nines, short hair poufy but sprayed in place, face powdered, and red lipstick circling her lips. “You look ready for a day of selling antiques.”

  A big smile accompanied a slight giggle. “Born ready for that, sweetie.”

  “Great.”

  Aunt Ruth took small, shuffling steps beside Maggie down the hall. She seemed to favor one foot, causing a small limp.

  If her aunt fell or something... “Have you hurt your foot?”

  “My rheumatism. The weather and all.”

  Yeah, the weather. Maggie breathed a shaky sigh. She hoped it was only the weather causing Aunt Ruth’s pain. The house was being prepared for the storm, but someone needed to be at the hospital when the next visiting hour came around. Could Aunt Ruth be left alone at the store if something happened with Cammie?

  Chapter 7

  AFTER PULLING UP TO the old storefront on Washington Avenue, Maggie checked her phone. Nothing from the hospital so far. Should she call?

  Aunt Ruth patted her hand. “God’s in control. We just have to do our part.”

  The statement grated against Maggie’s already frazzled patience. “But what’s my part? What’s most important? The store? Holding Cammie’s hand? Taking care of Dahlia? Watching the weather?” Which one, God?

  “One moment at a time, Magnolia. That’s all we can manage—the moment we’re in.”

  So the store, since that’s where they were. She may as well get out and attack that challenge. Maggie pushed open her door and stepped out onto the cracked pavement. The turquoise awning above the entrance looked new. A shame since if a hurricane made landfall, the storm winds would likely slice it to shreds. The cute wrought iron benches and planters filled with pansies would need to be carried inside, too. She nudged one of the pots as she passed. The things were heavy, but surely Cammie had a dolly somewhere.

  Aunt Ruth slowly made her way toward the door with the keys. Maggie hurried to offer an arm. “Can I help?”

  “I’m fine.” She shooed her away. “I’m not as fast as I once was, but I’ve been walking for a while now.”

  Still stubborn, like all the women in this family...

  With each step her aunt took, Maggie flinched, hoping the elderly woman wouldn’t trip. Each crack and dip in the sidewalk looked like an accident waiting to happen. The coastal soil didn’t allow concrete pathways to stay level for long.

  Finally inside, Maggie set her purse under the sales counter. A coffee pot, a gallon jug of bottled water, and a can of New Orleans’ finest grounds—from Café Du Monde, of course—sat on a shelf nearby. Thank you, Cammie, for the easy caffeine access. Apparently, Cammie loved the stuff as much as she did. Maggie wasted no time filling the carafe and adding the dark roast. She pressed the on button, and the aromatic chicory joined the scent of whatever floral fragrance Cammie was using to make the store smell fresh. Her sister had always been obsessed with air freshening techniques for ambiance around the antiques. But really, Cammie had always been obsessed with all things perfume and fragrance. A bit of a smell snob. Maggie chuckled at the memories of Cammie claiming the perfumes Maggie wore gave her a headache and insisting the whole family needed to shower after a walk around the block.

  The silly memory was a good one now, and it excavated others with it. A memory of Sunday afternoon strolls with Mama and Daddy, another of shopping with friends in high school, Cammie styling their hair for homecoming...

  Maggie shook her head. There was no time for strolling down memory lane. She needed to get down to business.

  Aunt Ruth puttered around, rearranging items on the shelves and dusting. Not that the store needed cleaning. The place was immaculate. Clean. Orderly. Even the baseboards looked freshly scrubbed. Cammie ran a tight ship.

  Maggie strode to the stockroom. Spotless. Only one large shipping box needed to be unwrapped. After she figured out how to get the cash register going, she’d open it up and see what it held.

  Maggie returned to the showroom. “Aunt Ruth, do you know how to get this machine started?”

  No answer. Maggie wound around the aisles until she reached her aunt and tapped her shoulder.

  “Oh!” Aunt Ruth clutched her heart. “You scared the life out of me, child, sneaking up on me like that again. You always were a tricky one.”

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t...” Add hearing-aid to the to-do list. “Do you know how to operate the cash register?”

  “Oh, she got a new one not long ago. Once we get it going, I might be able to help, but the thing’s high-technical. Dahlia knows. Josh probably knows, too.”

  “Josh? Why would he know?”

  “He helps out now and then. More lately, if Cammie needs to be off when he’s home. It’s a nice tradeoff for them. They help each other, being single parents and all.”

  A vise locked around Maggie’s chest. Was there more to the new arrangement than single parents helping each other? “How nice for them.”

  Her aunt shook a finger at her. “Now, Magnolia, don’t get your unmentionables twisted, as they say. It’s not a romantic thing. It’s the practicality of surviving their difficult situations.”

  No one used the word unmentionables anymore, much less twisted unmentionables. And what was with Aunt Ruth calling her Magnolia? Maggie held in the smart replies popping up in her brain and sighed. Two single parents helping each other out made sense. And she’d love Cammie to find a nice guy. If it were any other nice guy in the world.

  Maggie walked back to the cash register. Wading through a ton of sand might be more fun than the prospect of calling Dahlia or Josh for help. There had to be an instruction manual around. She was pretty good with computers. Her job in meteorology kept her on the crazy technology twenty-four seven. Good thing she’d come in early.

  Thirty minutes later, Maggie threw the thin manual against the wall and groaned. The store was supposed to open now. Calling Dahlia seemed to be the only option, because she wasn’t asking Josh. She dialed the house phone. It rang until the machine picked up. Which meant she’d be left calling Josh either way. Or she could skip entering purchases and write them on paper. Not a real option, though. She’d promised to do this, and if she was going to do it, she was going to do it right.

  Josh’s number was taped behind the counter. Maybe for Dahlia and Aunt Ruth, because Cammie had it in her phone. Reluctantly, Maggie retrieved her cell from her purse and forced her fingers to press the numbers.

  “Hello.” His low voice haunted her like a ghost from her past...which he was.

  Maggie blew out an extended sigh combined with a groan. “I need to ask Dahlia how to operate the stupid cash register.”

  Laughter rumbled through the line. “I might be able—”

  “Just put her on.” Of course he found humor in her weakness.

  “Aye, aye, sir.” More chuckling.

  She’d pinch him if he were here. No. He’d probably enjoy it. And start tickling her like he always had when they were kids. Okay, and when they were teens, which usually led to kissing. More
memories flooded her mind. They hung heavy around her heart, squeezing...crushing.

  “Aunt Maggie? Hello?”

  “Yeah.” She snapped herself back to the present. “How do I work this crazy machine?”

  Dahlia started spouting instructions. Maggie blinked hard. She should really pay attention and squash thoughts of Josh, once and for all. Like she’d been trying to do for more than ten years. The other reason, besides hurricanes, that kept her from visiting her family on the Coast as often as she should. She couldn’t stand the thought of running into him, or worse yet, hearing something terrible had happened to him. Like what happened to her father.

  “Got it, Aunt Maggie?”

  “Run through the instructions one more time.”

  Once Dahlia growled and explained again, Maggie had it. Aunt Ruth turned the Closed sign in the window to Open, and they waited for the first customer.

  Aunt Ruth neared and wiped the clean counter. “I hope the ads Cammie placed in the paper bring in some business. The economy is down, and people don’t buy real antiques so much. They love painting those flea markets finds.”

  So Aunt Ruth knew about the slump. “How bad is it?”

  “What?” She leaned her head closer.

  “How bad is it?” Maggie spoke so loud, she felt she was shouting.

  “We break even, but don’t make much after paying our small salaries.”

  “You could retire and close the store. Cammie could find another job.” She added volume to her tone by pushing the words up from her diaphragm.

  “Cammie loves the store because Dahlia can be here after school and during the summer. She doesn’t want her home alone. There’s all kinds of trouble out there for children these days.”

  “Is that why she wants to send her to private school?”

  “Some kids have been ugly to Dahlia. I think it’s hurting her feelings, and she comes home and takes it out on Cammie.”

  That explained the smart mouth. Poor Dahlia. There had to be a solution. At least now she better understood why Cammie had taken on babysitting J.D. Plus, the boy was pretty cute. Both kids were.