The Magnolia Sisters

by Michelle Major

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Besides,” Avery couldn’t help but add, “Josie provided the cupcakes. Gray just offered one to me.”

  Meredith tapped her palm on the glossy wood. “We’re getting off topic here. Grayson Atwell, one of the finest male specimens Magnolia has to offer, is in love with our Avs.”

  “Stop calling me Avs,” Avery protested automatically but there was no heat in the words. She liked that Meredith said the annoying nickname with affection. Both of her sisters were taking a sisterly amount of interest in this new development with Gray.

  Carrie had asked them to meet at the house to sort through several boxes of photographs and mementos she didn’t want to tackle on her own.

  After leaving the recital, Avery waited for Violet to come knocking on her door, which the young girl did as soon as she arrived home. Avery had bought an antique brass kaleidoscope that seemed perfect for Gray’s daughter, then found herself uncharacteristically nervous about how Violet would react to the gift.

  Turned out there’d been no reason to worry.

  “It reminded me of you,” she’d told the girl as Violet unwrapped the carefully packaged box. “It’s colorful and ever changing and kind of a pain in the butt to get to move the right way.”

  Violet had turned the apparatus over in her hands, then walked to the window to hold it up to the light.

  Wait for it, Avery told herself, grinning when Violet sucked in a sharp breath. Avery knew a rainbow of colors exploded when the light hit the lens as the barrel turned.

  The girl stood at the window for several minutes, and emotion spilled through Avery. Gray had said he loved her, and she loved him right back, just as she loved his daughter.

  But that didn’t stop her fears from trying to claw their way out of the box where she’d locked them up tight. What if she hurt them? What if she was left with another broken heart?

  What if she never wanted to leave Magnolia?

  Could she truly make a life in this town?

  “It’s okay,” Violet had said when she finally turned around. “I mean, thank you and stuff. I didn’t ask you to come to my recital so you’d buy me something.”

  “I know.” Avery moved forward until she could tug on the girl’s braid. “I wanted to, and you were really great in the routine.”

  “I gotta practice pirouetting,” Violet said, staring at the kaleidoscope. “My turns suck.”

  “You probably shouldn’t say suck in kindergarten.” Avery grinned. “We all have stuff to work on. It’s what makes us human.”

  “Daddy’s gonna love this.” Violet took a step toward the door. “We’re having noodles for dinner. Wanna come over?”

  “Another time,” Avery had said brightly. “Tonight I’m having dinner with my sisters.”

  “I’m gonna have a sister,” Violet reported, causing Avery’s breath to catch in her throat.

  “You are?”

  “If Mommy or Daddy ever get married to someone else. They’ll have a baby, and it won’t be a brother. I don’t want a brother.” The girl nodded as she opened the door. “See ya, Spot.” Violet bent to pet the little dog, then turned to Avery. “Thanks again. It’s better than okay.”

  “Yeah,” Avery had agreed and given the girl a hug that felt both awkward and somehow perfect between the two of them. As Violet returned to her house, Avery had been grateful for the plans with her sisters because the thought of spending the whole evening alone held no appeal.

  Now she turned her attention back to Carrie and Meredith, curling her hands around the mug of tea, hoping the warmth would seep into her soul. “He asked me about having kids,” she blurted.

  “Good lord,” Meredith muttered. “The man is hot but he has no game.”

  Carrie sipped her tea, then placed the mug on the table and straightened. “Are you saying Gray asked you to have his baby?”

  “Did Niall keep anything stronger than tea around here?” Meredith demanded.

  “Oh, yes.” Carrie stood. “Good idea, Mer-Bear.”

  Meredith growled under her breath. “I know you didn’t just call me that.”

  Avery almost chuckled at how innocent Carrie appeared. “You gave nicknames to both of us,” she said sweetly. “I figured you’d want one, too.”

  “Not Mer-Bear.” Meredith’s chin tipped up. “You can call me Queen.”

  “Doubtful,” Carrie murmured. “Let’s not get off topic again. We were at the part in the story where Gray begged Avery to have his baby.”

  “That’s not exactly what happened.” Avery shook her head. “He simply asked if I ever wanted kids. Hypothetically.”

  “That isn’t a hypothetical question,” Carrie called. She’d walked into the kitchen and returned a moment later with a bottle of scotch and three shot glasses on a tray. “It’s a prelude to getting down on one knee.”

  “Oooh.” Meredith rubbed her palms together, then took the bottle of liquor, opened the top and poured amber liquid into the three glasses. “That’s so romantic.”

  Avery’s mouth went dry as she scrambled to gain control of her thoughts around Gray. “We were waiting for a dance recital to start.” She pressed a hand to her chest. “It wasn’t romantic. It was awkward. There was certainly no talk of a ring.”

  “I bet he’ll go with something vintage.” Meredith placed a glass in front of Avery. “Maybe pear shaped?”

  “Are you crazy?” Avery downed the shot, hissing as the whiskey burned her throat. “Having a conversation with the two of you is worse than trying to corral those foster kittens. You’re supposed to help me figure out how to deal with this.” She thumped her glass on the table, and Meredith filled it. “He said he loved me.” She threw back the shot, grateful for the burn now that she was prepared. Easier to feel pain in her throat than in the vicinity of her heart.

  “Do you love him?” Carrie took her seat again.

  “Let’s toast to love,” Meredith said, holding up her glass. Carrie clinked hers and then both women trained their gazes on Avery.

  “Heaven help me, I do love him,” Avery whispered.

  All three women tossed back the liquor. Avery wasn’t a regular drinker. She liked control too much. But she welcomed the warmth in her belly and the way it spread through her arms and legs. Her head felt hazy, as if whiskey had blurred the sharp corners on all her problems.

  “Isn’t that a good thing?” Meredith poured another shot for herself, then tipped the bottle in Avery’s direction.

  “No more for me.” She shook her head. “I didn’t come here to fall in love. Or to get involved with a man. When I drove past Magnolia’s water tower that first morning, I assumed it would be a onetime thing. I thought I was going to sign some documents, hopefully get a little money to restart my life and then actually restart my life.” A drop of liquor slid down the edge of the shot glass. She ran a finger across the rim. “It’s all too much, too soon.”

  “You are starting over,” Carrie pointed out, her voice gentle.

  “The plan wasn’t to stay,” Avery argued, the words bouncing off the walls of the dining room. Now that they’d cleaned out most of the house, she could understand how grand it might have been in Niall’s heyday. A crystal chandelier hung above the table, tiny pinpoints of light sparkling. The walls were papered in a heavy brocade print. The color had faded to a dingy beige, but the quality of what it must have been remained obvious. Niall had been a powerful force back in the day, cosmopolitan and intriguing in his eccentricity.

  Of course he’d held court over this small town. In a place like New York City, he would have blended in, another charismatic artist in a sea of big-city talent. In Magnolia, he was a unicorn.

  “I wish he were here,” she whispered, more to herself than to either of her sisters.

  “Gray?” Meredith pulled her phone from the back pocket of her jea
ns. “Are you ready to profess your love? Want me to call him?”

  “Our father,” Avery corrected, and Meredith placed the phone on the table with a sigh.

  “Him,” she muttered. “All of this goes back to him.”

  “He would have loved that part,” Carrie said with a sad laugh. “He reveled in being the center of attention. The depression hit hard once his commercial success faded. He couldn’t understand why people weren’t interested in him anymore. That’s why this town remained so important, and he wrecked his own finances to save face.”

  “Most people didn’t like him despite how they act.” Meredith kept her gaze trained on the table as she spoke, like she was revealing some kind of terrible secret and didn’t want to see their reaction to the news.

  Avery was shocked. “What do you mean? People around here idolized him. We all heard the mayor’s speech at Summer Fair. I’ve lost count of the number of stories I’ve heard about his largesse.”

  “Memories often turn the past into a halcyon version of reality.” Carrie hefted a box onto the table. “Meredith’s right. Dad was an insufferable ass for most of his life. He could be charming when he needed to, and he never let anyone forget what they owed him. Most of the town owed him in some way.”

  Meredith grabbed the bottle of scotch and drank directly from it, not bothering with a glass. She leveled a look at Avery. “How many times have you heard someone say ‘bless his heart’ when talking about Niall?”

  “A few I guess.” Avery scrunched up her nose as she considered the conversations she’d had with regards to her biological father. “Actually, most of them. I figured it was some Southern way of expressing sympathy.”

  “Sympathy for what an ass he was,” Meredith clarified.

  Carrie giggled, then motioned for Meredith to hand her the whiskey. She wiped the opening with the end of her sleeve, then took a drink.

  “Do you think I have cooties?” Meredith demanded.

  Carrie looked genuinely surprised. “Of course not. I’ve spent too many hours cleaning out this house. I’m overly sensitive to germs.” She pushed the whiskey toward Avery. “Bless your heart,” she explained, “or bless his heart in this case, can mean several different things. It was probably meant as an insult to Dad without coming out and smearing his name. Did you hear anyone use ‘God love him’?”

  Avery nodded as she tipped the bottle toward her lips. “Plenty.”

  “Huh.” Carrie shrugged. “People around here must have hated him. I never realized.”

  “Because you were his little princess,” Meredith reminded her.

  “Awww...” Carrie’s smile was saccharine sweet. “Mer-Bear. I love it when you say that.”

  “Fine.” Meredith’s mouth pursed. “I’ll leave off calling you princess as long as I don’t have to hear that ridiculous nickname again.”

  “Agreed.” Carrie’s cornflower blue gaze met Avery’s. “Do you want more help on the Gray issue or should we start with the boxes?”

  More help? Avery pressed her lips together to keep from laughing. Her sisters had talked in circles without offering one piece of concrete advice. The last thing she needed was more help, although she realized she felt less anxious than she had when she’d first arrived. Hard to say whether that could be attributed to the sisterly support or the alcohol.

  “Boxes,” she answered.

  Carrie rose from the chair, swaying ever so slightly. “I found most of the contents in the desk drawers in Dad’s office. I started to go through it, but there were personal letters and photographs.” Her knuckles grew white as her fingers clenched the box’s lid. “I couldn’t manage it on my own.”

  “Why not just throw it all away?” Meredith asked, eyeing the box like it contained a den of venomous snakes.

  “I don’t know,” Carrie admitted. “I thought maybe something in here would offer a clue as to why he made the choices he did. Don’t you all wonder?”

  “Of course,” Avery answered at the same time Meredith bit off, “Nope.”

  “That’s a lie,” Carrie said. “I know you care more than you’ll admit.”

  “Whatever,” Meredith mumbled, leaning over to reach for the box. “If we aren’t going to dissect Avery’s love life, let’s get on with this. I have horses to feed later.”

  “You said your dad was taking care of them tonight.” Carrie lifted an eyebrow in challenge when Meredith rolled her eyes.

  Instead of arguing or admitting to the lie, Meredith flipped off the lid to the cardboard banker’s box and pulled out a stack of papers.

  “What is all this?” Avery grabbed a few off the top, her breath hissing out as she recognized a familiar face in the photos tucked between scribbled notes and random receipts.

  “Mom,” she whispered.

  Both Carrie and Meredith stared at her. “Your mom is in one of the photos?”

  She nodded, unable to manage a cognizant thought with the riot of emotions tumbling through her. “She was young.” She held out the photo after staring at it for several long seconds. “In San Francisco with Niall.”

  Her mother looked carefree in a way Avery didn’t recognize. She wore a paisley-patterned sundress with her hair piled high on her head. Niall’s arm was draped around her shoulders, both casual and possessive, and her mother smiled at the camera with so much joy it was physically painful to see.

  “This must have been when they met.” Carrie took the photo, then passed it to Meredith. “Didn’t your mom tell you it was a one-night stand?”

  Avery nodded. “But they look too familiar for that. I didn’t ask her for details even after learning about Niall. She doesn’t like to talk about it. I think she considers a surprise pregnancy one of the few true failures of her life.”

  “Of course she doesn’t think that,” Carrie said, her voice sharper than Avery would have expected. “She got you from it. No matter what else, that’s a blessing.”

  “Right,” Avery agreed, because what was the alternative? Saying out loud that her very existence was a mistake?

  “Wait.” Meredith shuffled through the papers in front of her. “Here they are again. Niall has a mustache in this photo.”

  “That’s impossible.” Avery snatched the photo from her sister. “My mom only knew him for a night...or a weekend...or...”

  “They had a longer relationship than she’s told you?” Meredith kept digging. “Most of the stuff is junk. Old receipts or notes that I can’t even read because his penmanship is horrible.”

  “It always was,” Carrie murmured. “He started dictating his correspondence to me when I was in high school. He refused to use a computer. Everything had to be in longhand.”

  “I don’t know about that,” Meredith countered. “Here’s a typed note signed by Niall and addressed to someone named Melissa.”

  Avery swallowed. “That’s my mom.”

  “He tells her he’s glad she plays soccer,” Meredith said. “The letter thanks her for the photograph. He says, ‘She has my mother’s eyes.’”

  “He’s talking about me.” Avery felt like her brain was going to explode, and it wasn’t from the alcohol. “I played soccer one season when I was eight. My mom gave him updates about me.”

  Meredith gathered up the rest of the papers and photographs, then shoved them back into the box and slammed the lid on top. “I can’t do this,” she said, her frantic gaze darting between Avery and Meredith. She looked like some sort of wild animal, scared and cornered.

  “It’s okay,” Avery said in the same tone she used when she’d been trying to lure the foster kittens out of their crate the first night they’d stayed with her.

  “It’s not. I don’t want to know this stuff.” Meredith pushed back from the table. “What if there are pictures of my mom in there? Or letters to her? I can’t read about her being unfaithful to my dad.” She dragged in a s
haky breath. “My real dad. How could I even look him in the eye if I knew—”

  Carrie yanked the box off the table. “I’ll burn it all,” she promised, then put an arm around Meredith. Avery came to her other side. “None of it matters. It doesn’t change anything. You did nothing wrong.”

  “Then why do I feel so guilty and responsible?” Meredith let out a sound that was somewhere between a sob and a growl.

  “We’re in this together,” Avery reminded her. Reminded them all.

  “At least you get great sex as a distraction,” Carrie said.

  Meredith laughed at that and looked up at the two of them. “Yeah. I haven’t had great sex in...” She shuddered. “Oh, crap. I can’t even remember.”

  “It’s been almost a decade for me,” Carrie said.

  Avery took a step back. “Are you joking? You haven’t had sex in ten years?”

  “I’ve had sex,” her sister clarified. “But nowhere near great sex.”

  “It was Dylan Scott.” Meredith pushed her chair away from the table and stood. “Back in high school, right?”

  “The summer after,” Carrie confirmed.

  “Who’s Dylan?” Avery reached around Meredith to pick up the liquor bottle again. This night was so off the rails. Holding tight to her buzz might be the only thing to get her through.

  “He was the baddest of the bad boys.”

  She smiled at Meredith’s overdramatic tone. “You sound like a movie trailer announcer.”

  “It was like the nineties version of Rebel Without a Cause or Grease or something.”

  “It wasn’t like Grease.” Carrie sniffed. “No one sang on the bleachers. That’s silly.”

  “Maybe it was more Saved by the Bell,” Avery suggested with a laugh.

  “Dylan Scott was cuter than Zack Morris. Magnolia had a drive-in back in the day.” Meredith turned to Carrie. “I bet you lost your V card at the drive-in, right?”

  Carrie threw up her hands. “How do you even know about Dylan and me? He would have been five years ahead of you in school.”

  “My brother Theo ran in that same popular group. All the girls knew Dylan. He was hot like Gray, only hotter because he was so wild.” She leaned in. “He drove a motorcycle.”