Magnolia Storms Read online

  “We’ll figure out how she can make the new school happen. We can try for after Christmas, if there’s a spot.” She’d pull every string she could, and she’d make Josh Bergeron do the same. He had to know someone with influence around the area. “What about selling furniture on consignment? Then you wouldn’t have to purchase inventory. We could refinish some of our own flea market finds that don’t look so hot with paint in those trendy colors. We could sell the decorator paint, too. And add candles and local pottery. People love scented candles. Of course, they’d have to go through the Cammie scent approval.”

  A smile lifted Aunt Ruth’s lined cheeks. “Aren’t you like a dog with a bone? But talk to Cammie before you make any big changes. I signed the store over to her five years ago. The house, too. She’s taken such good care of me all this time. She’s the child I never had.” Her eyes widened, and her hand went to her cheek. “Not that you aren’t—”

  “I understand. Don’t worry.” Maggie smiled. “You’ve helped Cammie, and she’s helped you. I’m glad you had each other.”

  “You don’t have to be alone, you know? We can all be together.”

  Not that again. She wasn’t moving back here. The glass entry door chimed. “I think we have a customer.” Saved by the bell.

  Chapter 8

  “UP TO THE MAST WITH you. Keep an eye out for pirates.” Josh hoisted J.D. onto his shoulders in the crowded parking lot of the hardware store.

  “Aye, aye, sir.” J.D. slipped into place and patted his hands on Josh’s forehead.

  The sky alternated cloud cover and spills of sunlight. One minute a wind whipped up and the next, all became still. The weather was about as confusing as the emotions churning through his mind.

  Giggling, Dahlia walked beside Josh. “He’s so cute.”

  “I agree.” Josh smiled down at her. “You’re not too shabby yourself. Pretty like your mama and...” Why’d he start that?

  One side of her mouth quirked. “Aunt Maggie?”

  Harpooned by a ten-year-old girl. “Yeah. Her, too.”

  “Everyone says I look like Aunt Maggie.” She shrugged. “So y’all were a thing?”

  “What, us? A thing?” Could he play dumb? “What’s a thing?”

  Dahlia’s fists went to her hips and she gave him a hard stare. “Don’t go to Broadway. You won’t get the part.”

  Way too much like her aunt. “We grew up together. Spent all our time together. Dated.” He hoped that answer would be enough to quench her curiosity. Meanwhile J.D. made boat motor noises above and seemed to be using his dad’s ears as steering levers.

  “I heard Mom tell Aunt Ruth that Aunt Maggie never got over you. That’s why she’s not married.”

  The words both anguished him and gave him hope. If only Maggie weren’t so stubborn. Or was he the stubborn one?

  “But you must’ve gotten over her because you married J.D.’s mom.” Another hard blow. It seemed Dahlia wasn’t giving up any time soon.

  And had that been a question or a statement? Kids could be so blunt. “I guess I gave up on Maggie ever coming back, and I met Trisha.”

  “So you loved both?”

  Good grief. The girl was worse than a shrink. Even if he knew the answers to all her questions, which he didn’t, he’d rather not poke around those tender wounds. He’d thought he’d loved Trisha once. Except he’d obviously never really known the woman. Not deep down. Josh lowered J.D. to his hip before they entered the glass doors of the hardware store. The last thing the boy needed was to bump his noggin. They’d learned that one the hard way.

  “Daddy, look. Candy!” J.D. struggled to slip to the floor and escape.

  Thank the Lord. If Dahlia liked junk food, too, she might lose interest in her inquisition. Josh set J.D. on his feet but held onto his hand. “Not yet. If you’re a good boy, I’ll buy you and Dahlia a treat when we finish shopping.” Between the sugary cereal and this candy, he’d need to make sure lunch was healthy, at least.

  Tools stood in waist-high carts and displays, shiny and new. Saws and drills hung neatly on an endcap. Grills of various sizes and price ranges lined the wall near the cash register. He eyed one that held a side table fryer. That would be nice to cook seafood in. He inhaled deeply. Dusty and metallic. Man, he loved the hardware store. Was this how women felt when they went shopping?

  “You didn’t answer my question.”

  He looked down to find Dahlia’s brown eyes staring up at him. The women in this family were tenacious.

  “Okay, but first, I’d like to ask you a question. Why do you want to know this information?” Let her chew on that for a half minute while he looked for the right aisle. Usually five sales clerks tried to help him, but they were all leading customers around today. Others prepping in case of a storm, no doubt.

  “Because I don’t understand adults.” Dahlia paused, biting her lip. “Like my dad. I’ve never even met him.”

  Josh’s stomach lurched. So Dahlia had reached an age where she’d started to wonder about her parents’ relationship. Someday J.D. would do the same. He’d ask questions about why his mother left him. The realization pitched Josh’s stomach into a deep current. The hurt of parents who didn’t care enough to be a part of their child’s life was all too familiar—his own father’d dumped him and his mom like a load of rotten fish. How a parent could cut and run on a child, Josh would never understand.

  He met Dahlia’s gaze and forced a smile. “Adults do stupid things, make big mistakes, and it hurts. I told you my dad left me and my mom, so I know how hard it is, but you do the best you can and lean on God. He can become a Father to you.” He tweaked her chin with his free hand. “And you’re lucky. Your mom loves you something fierce. Plus Ruth and Maggie.”

  “Aunt Ruth’s in her eighties. What if something happens to Mom? What if she doesn’t get well?”

  God forbid. “She will, but you have your aunt Maggie.” Dahlia’s watery gaze plucked at his heart. “I told you I’ll hang around, too.”

  Her lips pinched together, and she looked away. The child was really taking the accident hard. He gave her shoulder a squeeze and prayed she’d find peace in all this. “Let’s finish up, and I’ll get y’all a treat.”

  He located the aisle of sockets. With the right tools, the windows wouldn’t take him too long. Despite the fact that he should probably be searching for new childcare options, he would stay close to the Marovich women. Dahlia needed him now.

  Maggie, too, whether she’d admit it or not.

  HAD THE SCHOOL LET out early or had the three lanky teens entering the store skipped? Maggie pretended to rearrange a nearby shelf of antique paperweights to keep an eye on them. Every time they touched something, she cringed. They’d come in laughing and talking loudly. Not really the antique store type, but a parent could’ve given them money to Christmas shop. Possibly. Okay, she was probably deluding herself.

  Near a shelf of crystal bowls, one boy grabbed another’s hat and made a joke about his hair. She took quick steps to them, right as a shoving match started. “Hey! Stop that, and get outside before you break something. Now.” Her voice roared in her own ears as she gave them her best crazy face.

  In unison, the boys’ heads jerked her way.

  “You heard me.” She stomped closer. “What are you waiting on?”

  “She’s nuts, man.” The tallest of them shook his head and turned toward the door. The other two followed.

  “That’s right. I’m nuts. Warn all your friends.”

  Aunt Ruth came out from the back as they left. “Maggie, did you call me? I thought I heard you.”

  Yep. She’d been that loud. “No. I was talking to some kids.”

  “Oh. Could they go buy us some lunch? I’m ravenous all of a sudden.”

  “I don’t think so.” Maggie couldn’t help but chuckle. “Josh is bringing lunch soon.”

  “Could you call and ask him to hurry? I don’t know if my blood sugar can wait.”

  Her blood sugar? “
Are you diabetic now?”

  “Sometimes hunger hits me like this. Always has. Makes me cranky. Lightheaded.”

  Must run in the family. “Is there some juice or cookies around? That usually helps me. I don’t want you fainting.”

  “Call Josh. I bet he’ll come on over.”

  Not again with calling Josh. It was barely eleven o’clock. They could have lunch delivered, but then she’d need to at least send Josh a text so he wouldn’t bring more food. A no-win situation. “Okay.”

  She texted him instead of calling.

  Aunt Ruth says her blood sugar needs lunch ASAP.

  A second later, her phone vibrated.

  Not a problem. Sounds familiar. Any special requests?

  Having an extended conversation wasn’t her plan.

  No.

  Be there soon. I know a great place, and it’s a buffet so it won’t take long at all to fill up some to-go boxes.

  Good for him. She’d head to the back and open that big delivery box. If she timed it right, she might miss Josh’s visit all together. But what if those boys came back? Did Cammie have a problem with crime? Her aunt might not even hear someone come in. There was no way she could be left at the store alone for an extended period.

  Maggie chewed her bottom lip. She could go in the back and open the box, but come check on things every few minutes.

  “Aunt Ruth?” Maggie tapped her arm. “Can you stay behind the counter while I go to the storage area?”

  “Of course I can, sugar.”

  Maggie took her leave and began a search for the box cutter. Most of the extra small-size inventory were in labeled clear plastic tubs. A vintage post office sorting cabinet held ribbons, tissue paper, tape, bows, and jars, but nothing to cut with. Another set of shelves were affixed above a counter. Good grief, so much bubble wrap. Cammie had miles of it stored back here. Finally Maggie spotted the handle jutting out from the highest shelf with all the cleaning supplies. She stretched on her tiptoes to reach it. Why did Cammie keep everything so high? Rearranging the shelves might be helpful. She could put the things they used every day within reach.

  The huge package stood just inside the loading area. It loomed tall over Maggie as she neared. Where should she start? She didn’t want to cut in too far and scar an expensive china cabinet or something. Settling on a side corner, Maggie slit the cardboard. Bubble wrap surrounded whatever was inside, so she continued. Once she unwrapped each side, she stripped away the insulation.

  Her jaw dropped.

  The intricately-carved French armoire standing before her looked so close to the one that had been destroyed in their house during Katrina. It had been in her bedroom. She laid the box cutter on the counter and ran her fingers across the white-finished wood, recalling the happy years with her family. Before the storm. How many times had they hidden in that armoire during a game of hide-and-seek? Or pretended they’d found the wardrobe to Narnia and filled the thing with talking stuffed animals?

  Had Cammie intended to sell this piece or had her sister ordered it with other intentions? Maybe to keep herself? The piece had always been special to them.

  Now that she thought of Cammie, she really needed to call the nurse’s station to check on her. In fact, she should be at the hospital, but here she stood wading through too many memories. Her father playing Frisbee with her, Josh, and Cammie in the front yard. The smile that lit up Daddy’s face and the encouraging words, whether she made the catch or missed. Her mother cooking up enormous, mouthwatering pots of gumbo or red beans for them all. Sitting around the table with family.

  Her stomach gurgled. An early lunch might be a good idea, but every time she saw Josh, the hurt cut so deep, she wanted to pluck her eyes out. When she’d left him years ago, she’d blown up, said things she shouldn’t have. And there were some words a person couldn’t take back.

  “Miss Maggie?” A small voice jerked her head around.

  J.D. stood by the counter, staring at the box cutter, his hand hovering over it. “Daddy said to tell you we brought lunch.”

  Maggie forced the residue of memories aside and plucked up the box cutter. She strained to place it back on the top shelf. No wonder everything was out of reach. “Thank you, pumpkin—I mean captain.”

  “You can call me pumpkin, I guess. Since you’re not a sailor.”

  Thank goodness. He was such a doll, her arms ached to hold him, an unfamiliar sensation for her. “Can I pick you up and give you a hug as thanks for bringing lunch?”

  His chin tilted as his blue eyes studied her. “Okay.”

  She lifted him up and nestled him close, letting her chin rub against his fine hair. “You’re such a good boy, aren’t you?” Like his daddy used to be.

  Stop that, brain. Her feet carried her back to the front of the store, despite the fact that she’d been hiding from Josh. She was a little hungry.

  “Cammie says I’m a good boy, too. Is she better yet?”

  “I don’t know. I’m hoping to check on her soon.”

  Dahlia sat on a stool behind the checkout counter eating from a white Styrofoam container and looking like she was ready to take over. Aunt Ruth had settled next to her with her own box.

  A hand skimmed the small of Maggie’s back. “I think you’ll like the food from this restaurant.” Josh’s proximity sent flutters through her midsection. “Sit, eat your lunch, and then go see about Cammie. I’ll stay.”

  Her eyes met Josh’s unnerving blue gaze. “I couldn’t ask you—”

  “Yes. You could.” He grinned, bringing those blasted smile lines to life. “Besides.” He nodded toward Dahlia. “I’ll have someone here who actually knows how to run the place and work the cash register.”

  “You always were a smart aleck.” Maggie couldn’t stop a smirk. Josh had noticed the same air of ownership in her niece. Dahlia obviously knew what she was doing, and someone did need to see about Cammie. “Fine. I’ll let you.” An aroma of spices hit Maggie’s nose and sent a rumble through her stomach.

  “Someone really needs her lunch.” More grinning from Josh. “How about we sit on the bench out front and eat?” He held up a white bag, and the steamy scents escalated. “Come on. Get some vitamin D before you go. The sun’s peeking out now and then.”

  The food did smell good. It had been a long day already, and she needed to eat. “Okay. I have a few minutes before I’d need to leave if I’m going to make the next visiting hour.” She followed him to the door, still snuggling J.D. close.

  She could eat lunch with the man and his boy, right? That didn’t mean anything. It sure didn’t mean she was going to let Josh be a part of her life.

  Not unless he made a different career choice. She couldn’t live with the chance of losing him to the Gulf like she’d lost her father. After that crushing blow, it had taken everything within her not to lose her faith. And not without a number of hard questions sent up in prayer. She’d gone from a happy eighteen-year-old with a happy family in a nice home to a devastated young adult who’d had almost everything swept away in a single day. She struggled to understand why God had allowed the disaster.

  “Miss Maggie?” J.D. patted her face. “Can you let me down so I can eat? You can hold me again after I finish.”

  Poor child. How long had she been staring at the swaying canopy formed by the moss-covered branches of the live oaks across the street? “Sure, pumpkin.” She set him on the bench and took a step back.

  Josh placed a container next to J.D., stretched open a napkin, and tucked it in his son’s collar.

  J.D.’s nose scrunched as he stared up at his father. “I’m not a baby.”

  “Oh now, I’m going to use a napkin, too. Remember, we have to look nice to work at the fancy antique store.” He unfolded another paper and pushed it under his own collar.

  Maggie took in the whole sight of them. Until that moment, she hadn’t noticed their attire. She never got far beyond those blue eyes. Both wore khakis and dark blue button down shirts tucked in with bro
wn leather belts. J.D.’s little brown Dockers looked exactly like Josh’s. An adorable picture if there ever was one.

  “Here’s yours.” Josh held out another box. “Have a seat.”

  Taking it, she moved to the other side of J.D. No way she was sitting so close to Josh. She opened her lunch to find fried catfish, turnip greens, and black-eyed peas. The man knew her favorites. Though her hips didn’t need the fried food. Gone were the days of eating like a teenager. Oh, well, as long as it was here... She took a large bite of the crispy filet. So perfectly fried, salty, and delicious.

  A cool breeze whipped up and ran across her face. Not too cold though. And the bench was warm enough, but the metal a tad hard, which reminded her she needed to move it inside in case the winds reached hurricane force. As long as Josh insisted on helping, she may as well ask. “Can you take these seats and the planters inside before the storm?”

  “I don’t know if I’m strong enough for that.” He’d sat on the other side of J.D and opened his food, but stopped and flexed one bicep. “I mean I’ve still got it, but these benches are bolted to the cement to keep people from taking off with them.” Josh held his arm closer and raised his brows. “You can test it out if you want, since you can’t see it well under the sleeve.”

  Maggie shook her head. “Put your gun away. You’re as bad as Steve at my office.” She twisted to look over the back of the bench. “Bolted down?”

  “Steve, huh? What’s he like? Muscular?”

  “Full of Steve.” She leaned forward, studied the bolts that held the bench in place. She hadn’t noticed that before. A little rusty, but maybe they’d hold. Nothing much she could do about it.

  “I’ve got a muscle.” J.D. jerked up his arm, still holding a forkful of mashed potatoes. The white blob sailed off and splatted on Josh’s cheek.

  “Aw, mate, watch out. I’ve got my own food to eat.” Josh wiped his face with his napkin smearing the creamy mess further.

  Laughter made its way up Maggie’s midsection and spilled out. She snorted in her attempt to hold it in. Her amusement was joined by a chorus of the sweetest childish giggles she’d ever heard. J.D.’s chest shook as he chortled harder and louder, followed by a little cough.