Magnolia Nights

by Ashley Farley

  The grim reality of my new existence has set in. Life crawls by for me upstairs in my spartan room, which has become my refuge. I bide my time by doing as I’m told and staying out of Mother’s way as much as possible. I take my meals up here unless I’m summoned to the dining room for another one of Mother’s many lectures. I yearn for my glamorous life in New York. I miss Louisa, and God help me, I miss Abbott something terrible. I keep the newspaper article announcing his job with Warner Brothers Studio hidden beneath my mattress as a reminder of his betrayal. Every time I look at it, seeing the photo of him with his arm around another woman brings on a torrent of fresh tears. To pass the time, I write letters to Abbott I’ll never mail and read whatever my mother brings home from the library—nonfiction books, classics, and the occasional mystery. Romance novels are out of the question, of course. “No smut for the slut,” Mother said to me one day.

  The fear of being hit with my father’s jogging stick, now an appendage of Mother’s arm, keeps the staff in line. But sympathetic to my situation, they contribute what little they dare to make my life more tolerable. Maddie brings in fresh flowers every morning: a single stem from the rose garden in a sterling bud vase or a small bouquet of blue hydrangeas in a crystal container. And every afternoon, Sally Bell delivers my tea tray piled high with delicate sweet cakes and finger sandwiches. Abraham lugged an old chaise lounge and floor lamp down from the attic for me and positioned them in the corner by the window. I read into the wee hours of the morning with the night air, fragrant with the citrusy, sweet scent of magnolia blossoms, drifting through the open window. I’m allowed to keep my bedroom window open, because, without the aid of a ladder, I have no means of escaping. Why would I escape when I have nowhere to go?

  Mother refuses to let me see a doctor. She’s hired a midwife instead, who she claims is capable of getting the job done. A midwife is fine by me. I like Jeanette Lane quite a lot. She’s the grandmother type with gray hair, plump cheeks, and a calm manner of speaking. Jeanette scored extra brownie points with me when she asked Mother to wait out in the hall during the examination. She declared the baby’s heartbeat strong and me fit as a fiddle. She gave me a bottle of prenatal vitamins and a chocolate eclair she brought from a bakery on Broad Street.

  Subsequent checkups followed a similar pattern until her fourth visit in June when I was seven months along.

  “Your mother tells me you’re considering giving the baby up for adoption. I can make the arrangements for you, if you’re absolutely certain this is what you want.” Jeanette sat down on the edge of the mattress beside me. “You know, Ashton, no one can make you give away your baby. This is something you must decide for yourself.”

  “When I first learned I was pregnant, adoption seemed the right choice for the baby and me. But I’m not so sure anymore.” I stared down at my immense body sprawled out on the bed—swollen breasts, belly the size of Mount Everest, and thighs so fleshy they rub together when I walk. I will never again fit into any of my clothes, much less appear in any fashion magazine. I placed my hand on my abdomen and felt the baby moving around. “She’s an active one.”

  “You’re convinced it’s a girl,” Jeanette said.

  I nodded. “It sounds stupid, I know. But I’ve grown attached to her. I feel like I already know her. She’s part of me.”

  Jeanette smiled. “The bond between a mother and her offspring is strong.”

  My throat ached with unshed tears. “I’m honestly not sure I’ll be able to give her up.”

  Jeanette glanced toward the door where my mother was no doubt eavesdropping on the other side. “How would your mother feel about you keeping the baby?” she said, her voice a near whisper.

  “She’d throw a fit like you’ve never seen and ship me off to Siberia. Which is why I don’t plan on telling her until the baby comes.”

  Jeanette stroked my arm. “Promise me you won’t let her force you into making a decision while you’re having these reservations.”

  “I promise.” I drew an imaginary X across my chest, just like Louisa did when she promised not to tell anyone about my pregnancy.

  So far, I’ve managed to change the subject every time Mother mentions adoption. But I won’t be able to put her off for much longer.

  Jeannette removed her stethoscope from her black medical bag and lifted my maternity blouse. The lines in her face deepened as she listened to my belly.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Jeanette shook her head and lifted a finger to silence me. For several excruciatingly long minutes, she moved the round end of the stethoscope to different parts of my abdomen. Finally, she sat back and freed the earpieces from her ears.

  “What is it, Jeanette? You’re scaring me!”

  “Nothing’s wrong, dear.” She opened my file and flipped through the pages. “This explains a lot of things, actually. The weight gain and measurements—it all makes sense.”

  I struggled to sit up. “What makes sense, Jeanette? Tell me now.”

  “I’m hearing two heartbeats today.”

  My mouth dropped open, and my eyes grew wide. “I don’t understand. How can that be?”

  “I’ve heard of it happening before, although it’s never happened to a patient of mine. It’s possible for one baby to hide behind the other, sometimes all the way through until delivery.” She squeezed my knee. “I dare say your decision just got a whole lot more complicated.”

  The door flew open, the knob banging against the wall, and in marched Mother. Jeanette rose to face her. “Congratulations, Mrs. Pringle. Your daughter is expecting twins.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Ellie

  Ellie felt herself on the verge of insanity. The power had gone out as she and Julian were coming down from the attic. Without the reassuring hum of the air conditioner, the stillness of the house tap-danced on her already-frayed nerve endings. She’d barricaded her bedroom door with a chest of drawers. With the hurricane shutters blocking the windows, there was no way out. The idea was to prevent the evil spirits that tormented her from getting in. Her voice of reason warned her she was being melodramatic, but her terrified self convinced her otherwise. She’d upset her grandmother’s spirit by reading her mother’s diaries. “Get mad all you want, you old bat! My mother’s story needs to be heard!” she screamed to the empty room.

  She couldn’t see her hand in front of her face in the pitch black. She’d been reading for hours by the light of Bennett’s lantern. Her mother’s scribble made the reading slow. The light had eventually grown dim, and then went out completely. Ellie hadn’t thought to bring more batteries upstairs with her when she came to bed around eight. Julian had long since gone home. Truth be told, she wasn’t sure what time he’d even left. Early afternoon was her best guess. She’d barely raised her head from the diary to tell him goodbye. She would give anything to feel his capable arms around her again. She hadn’t thought to bring her cell phone upstairs with her, either. A lot of good it was doing on the kitchen counter. She was desperate to call her father, to tell him about her twin, his other child. Boy or girl, who knew? What had happened to her sibling? Where was he or she now? Was the dark-haired girl from her flashbacks her sister? Was whatever happened to her twin the traumatic event that caused her to block out those years?

  Her stomach ached from hunger. She hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast. Following Bennett’s instructions, she’d kept the refrigerator and freezer doors closed to preserve her food. The coolers were needed in the attic, although, over the course of the afternoon, the rain had slowed to a drizzle. She’d been too preoccupied with her mother’s diaries to think about eating, anyway. And what she’d learned in those diaries had stolen her appetite until now.

  Ellie succumbed to her tears. She grabbed Pixie and crawled beneath the bed. She squeezed her eyes shut and buried her face in her little dog’s fur. She fell into a fitful sleep plagued with angry voices, slamming doors, and the faint sound of a child sobbing. When she woke again, a beam of sunli
ght cast a warm glow on the floorboards in front of her. Crawling from beneath the bed, she saw a workman waving and offering a thumbs-up from the window. She nodded her head vigorously at him. Hell yes! I want those storm shutters open.

  Manhandling the dresser out of the way, she went downstairs and out into the yard. Much to her surprise, not a cloud lingered in the periwinkle sky. Floodwaters had receded from the streets, and hordes of workmen swarmed the yards up and down the block, picking up downed tree limbs and raking up debris.

  The crew leader for the roofing team approached her. “I’m disappointed to see the tarp didn’t hold. Was there much damage inside?”

  “The master bedroom was flooded. But it’s not your fault. My grandmother never should’ve let her house get in such disrepair.” Shielding her eyes from the sun, she stared up at the men crawling on her roof. “How long before you get it fixed?”

  “There’s no rain in the forecast until the weekend. We’ll have all the leaks repaired by then. The whole project should be completed by midweek next week.”

  “Just in time for me to put the house on the market.” Ellie turned her back on him and went inside for her phone.

  When she discovered her battery had died during the night, she connected the phone to the battery pack Bennett had left for her. She popped a K-Cup into her Keurig but remembered the power was out. Ugh. No coffee, either. This is shaping up to be a truly miserable day.

  She drummed her fingertips on the counter while she waited for her phone to power up. When it came back to life five minutes later, she scrolled through the missed calls and texts. Two texts were from her father, but the missed calls were all from Julian. He’d left several voice messages, each growing more concerned as the night wore on. The most recent call had come in an hour ago. In his message, he asked if he could stop by around eleven that morning with the antiques dealer.

  She clicked on his number. “Ellie, thank goodness,” he said when he answered. “I’ve been worried about you.”

  She sank down to the step stool, propped her elbow on the counter, and braced her forehead with her palm. “By accident, I left my phone in the kitchen when I went to bed. I was too terrified to leave my room to come get it.”

  “Uh-oh! Sounds like someone had a rough night.”

  “I learned some unsettling things from my mother’s diaries. I’ll tell you about them when I see you. Eleven is fine to meet with the antiques dealer. The sooner I get my grandmother’s things cleared out of this house the better.”

  “I hear ya,” he said with a chuckle. “I also left a message for my builder friend about giving you an estimate to fix the ceiling in the master. If he’s available, I’ll bring him along as well.”

  “Thank you, Julian,” she said, her voice a whisper. “I really appreciate it. I’m sorry for going on and on about my problems. How did your house survive the storm?”

  “This old house is built like Fort Sumter. She came through unscathed. I even have my power back.”

  Ellie sighed. “Lucky you.”

  “The local news is reporting that most of the power in the downtown area will be restored by the end of the day.”

  “Oh, good, a hot shower to look forward to” she said, without any enthusiasm. “I’ll see you at eleven.”

  For the next hour, Ellie paced the kitchen floor, drinking orange juice in the absence of coffee, while she waited for Maddie to arrive. In all the talks they’d shared since Ellie had arrived in Charleston, the housekeeper had never once mentioned her twin. And Ellie was anxious to find out why. When there was still no sign of her by ten o’clock, she began to worry she’d gotten hurt or her house had been damaged in the storm. She went to the desk in the library, but her grandmother’s address book wasn’t in the top right-hand drawer where Maddie said it would be. She searched the rest of the drawers in the desk and then all the ones in the kitchen and her grandmother’s bedroom as well.

  “I’m beginning to wonder if such an address book exists,” she said to Pixie, who’d been following her around from room to room. “I’ve certainly never seen it.”

  She retrieved the coolers from upstairs and loaded them up with food from the refrigerator and freezer while she waited for Julian. He arrived with his builder friend and the antiques dealer at five minutes past eleven. After a brief round of introductions, she directed the builder to the master bedroom to assess the water damage and instructed the antiques dealer to show himself around. “Make me an offer on anything you’re interested in. Everything is up for grabs.”

  “Everything?” Evan Luna asked, standing in front of the grandfather clock with a look of admiration on his ruddy face.

  “Everything,” Ellie repeated. “I didn’t know my grandmother, therefore I have no sentimental attachment to her possessions. And her style doesn’t suit my tastes.”

  “I understand where you’re coming from. Gothic went out several centuries ago.” His beefy hand carefully opened the clock’s door. “That’s not to say she didn’t own some valuable pieces like this one. I’ll make a fair offer on anything I can sell in my store and put you in touch with a collector whose tastes aren’t quite as refined.” He snickered. “In other words, he’ll haul off anything you don’t want and give you a reasonable sum of money in exchange.”

  Ellie felt the tension leave her body. “That’s an offer I can’t refuse. And the sooner the better.”

  Julian went with Ellie to the kitchen. “Are you okay? You don’t look so good.”

  She followed his gaze to the same pair of jeans and pink hoodie she’d been wearing since they got caught in the rain in the park on Monday night. “I didn’t sleep well.” Once again, she reached for the Keurig, and once again she remembered she didn’t have electricity.

  “I’m sorry.” Julian grabbed the back of her neck and drew her in for a hug. “I should’ve thought to bring you some coffee.”

  Tears welled in her eyes, and she wiped them with her hoodie sleeve.

  “Why don’t we take a walk,” Julian suggested. “We can go to my house for coffee. You grab Pixie’s leash, and I’ll tell Hugh and Evan we’re leaving. I’ll meet you out front in five.”

  The salty air quieted her nerves and cleared her mind. As they strolled down Church Street toward his house, she told him what she’d discovered in her mother’s journals.

  He listened intently, and when she’d finished talking, he asked, “And you have no recollection of this twin?”

  “Only a glimpse of a girl with dark hair, who I thought might have been my playmate. Interestingly enough, when I asked Maddie about this girl on Monday, she denied knowing anything about her. She’s hiding something. I feel it in my gut.”

  “Do you think you scared her off, and that’s why she didn’t show up for work today?”

  “Maybe. Or maybe her house was damaged in the storm. If there is some deep dark secret associated with my twin, what’s the point in keeping it now that my grandmother is dead?”

  “That’s a good question. How many of the journals did you read?”

  Ellie held up two fingers. “I have four more to read. I’m certain I’ll find more answers. But I can take her diaries only in small doses. Am I losing my mind, Julian? I was so distraught when I finished reading last night, I slept under my bed. Of course I don’t believe in ghosts. I know I’m letting my imagination get the best of me, but I don’t know how to turn it off.” She picked Pixie up and held her close. “My grandmother was pure evil. I can’t wait to sell her house. I can’t stand the thought of spending another night there.” Her body started to tremble as tears slid down her cheeks.

  Julian took her shoulders in his hands and gave her a gentle shake. “Listen to me, Ellie Pringle. You are not losing your mind. You’re just under a great deal of stress. I want you and Pip-squeak to come stay with me until you figure this thing out. You shouldn’t be alone while you’re reading your mother’s journals. My guest room is right next to my bedroom. I’ll hear you if you call for me, or you ca
n bang on the wall, and I’ll come running.”

  Sniffling, she nodded. “I accept your offer. At least for a couple of nights. I need to tell my father about everything that’s happened, but I don’t want to call him until I have more answers.”

  “Then it’s all settled.” He looped his arm through hers as they walked up the sidewalk to his house. “I may even take you out to dinner.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Ashton

  Giving birth to the twins nearly killed me. My heart went out of rhythm, and I lost a dangerous amount of blood. Maddie never left my side. She told me that Jeanette begged Mother to send for the doctor or call an ambulance and even threatened at one point to drive me to the hospital herself.

  Mother refused to let Jeanette leave the house. “If you can’t save my daughter, then it’s God’s will for her to die.”

  That’s right. Maddie heard Mother with her own ears.

  I slept in a nearly unconscious state for two days after the birth. When I finally woke, I asked to see my babies. Maddie brought them in from the adjacent room, the tiny bedroom that is serving as a nursery, and placed them in the crooks of my arms. Two bundles swathed in pink blankets, twin sisters despite the striking contrast in their appearance. One so fair and the other olive-skinned. One whose scrunched-up face is so much like my own and the other the spitting image of Abbott. One who takes my breath away and the other who has stolen my heart.

  “Look at you, you little lovelies,” I cooed. “What are we going to name you?”