Magnolia Nights

by Ashley Farley

  “We’re not staying here another night.” She picked up her dog. “I don’t know where we’ll go, but anywhere is better than here.” She carried Pixie downstairs to her studio where she’d left her phone. She located Midge Calhoun’s business card in the top drawer of her desk and dialed the number. The realtor answered on the second ring, and they exchanged pleasantries.

  “I know this is last minute,” Ellie said. “But is there any chance you could stop by this afternoon? I’m ready to move forward with putting the house on the market.”

  “I’m meeting a client at four,” Midge said. “But I could swing by afterward, around five, if that’s not too late for you.”

  “Five would be fine,” Ellie said, and ended the call.

  She lay down on the sofa for a quick rest and was awakened by the pounding of the door knocker at five thirty.

  “I’m the first to admit when I’m wrong. This place looks a hundred times better with no furniture.” Midge teetered around the downstairs on stiletto heels, her long, gauzy, gray sweater flowing behind her. “I can’t imagine the expense of painting a house like this, but I assure you, you’ll get your money back.”

  “I don’t want to wait, Midge. I want to put this house on the market today. This minute. Right now.” Hard as she tried, she couldn’t prevent her voice from trembling.

  Midge stopped in her tracks and spun around to face her. She looked into Ellie’s eyes. “What’s wrong, honey?”

  Ellie choked back the tears. “Everything.”

  Midge placed a hand on Ellie’s shoulder. Even in three-inch heels, she didn’t reach Ellie’s breasts. “You need a break from all this. I live just down the road in a waterfront condo. Why don’t we go there and have a glass of wine out on my balcony terrace?”

  The idea appealed to her. “I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

  “Are you kidding me? I’d welcome the company. Bennett is working late tonight, anyway. I’ve had a long week, and I’m ready to kick up my heels.” Midge stared down at her shoes. “I’m actually ready to kick off these heels.” Walking toward the door, she waved her on. “Bring your little dog. I’ll drive.”

  Midge’s condo offered views overlooking the harbor, but the modern interior lacked the kind of charm that Ellie had grown to appreciate—the random-width floorboards and heavy moldings as in her house and Julian’s.

  Midge showed her to her generous balcony. “Chardonnay okay?”

  “Anything is fine with me. Don’t go to any trouble.” Ellie settled in one of two lounge chairs. Feeling the nip in the air, she drew her lightweight sweater tight around her shoulders.

  Midge returned a minute later with two glasses, a bottle of chilled Chardonnay, and a small bowl of almonds. She sat down in the lounge chair beside Ellie and kicked off her shoes. “Ah, that’s much better,” she said, rubbing her feet. “I don’t know why I torture myself by wearing those shoes.”

  “Because you have the legs to pull it off.”

  Midge’s eyes traveled the length of Ellie’s legs from the bottom of her Bermuda shorts to the tops of her walking shoes. “What’re you talking about? You’ve got great legs.”

  “Not for walking,” Ellie said. “I’m a total klutz. I’d break my ankle wearing shoes like those.” She gestured at the Christian Louboutin black patent leather pumps. She knew the brand well. She’d salivated over them often enough at Neiman Marcus.

  “Lucky for you, you’re tall enough you don’t have to wear them.” Midge poured each of them a glass of wine and relaxed back against her chair. “Now, tell me what’s gotten you so down in the dumps.”

  Ellie hesitated, trying to decide how much to tell her. She barely knew Midge, but she sensed she could trust her. And she desperately needed someone to talk to. While Julian had proved to be a patient and sympathetic listener, she needed a woman’s perspective.

  “When I first came to Charleston, I remembered very little about my time spent here as a child. But certain things have sparked those memories.”

  Midge listened intently as Ellie walked her through the events of the past two weeks, leaving nothing out but the part about her grandmother’s lingering presence. No sense scaring her new friend away by sounding like a nutcase.

  Neither of them touched their wine while she was talking, but when she finished, they both took a big gulp.

  “So can you see why I want to get rid of the house?” Ellie said, setting down her wineglass.

  “I can certainly understand why you’re upset. But houses like yours don’t come around very often. You need to make your decision to sell based on logic, not emotion.”

  “You don’t understand.” Ellie lowered her head. “I need to feel at peace in my home. I don’t see that ever happening for me in a house where my evil grandmother once lived.” Where her presence might still remain, she thought to herself, although she’d seen no signs of Eleanor Pringle’s ghost since Julian removed her bedroom door.

  “But where will you go?”

  “Not back to California, that’s for sure. My life there is over. I considered moving to DC to be near my father, but I’m not a big-city gal at heart. I’m thinking about staying in Charleston. I like what I’ve seen so far, but I’ve been too preoccupied with the house to explore much. There are many scenes here I’m inspired to paint. One of the smaller houses off the Battery, on Church Street or Meeting, might better suit my needs.”

  Midge’s blue eyes were full of warmth when she asked, “I don’t mean to pry into your finances, but are you in a position to make a down payment on another property without selling your grandmother’s house first?”

  She nodded, thinking how she had inherited enough money to buy three houses in downtown Charleston. “I don’t understand why my grandmother left her estate to me when she obviously hated me so much,” she said, her eyes filled with tears. “I guess there was no one else for her to leave it to. Living in her house, spending her money, feels so dirty to me, like it’s blood money.”

  Midge shifted in her chair to face her. “You listen to me, Ellie Pringle. Your grandmother owes you that money.” She ticked the points off on her fingers. “She robbed you of a happy childhood. She robbed you of the chance to grow up with your sister, wherever she may be. She robbed your mother of the chance to grow old. If she’d received proper medical care, your mother might still be alive today.”

  Ellie stared across the water as she considered what it would be like to have a mother, not just as a child and teenager but now, as an adult. “That’s true. She may not have poisoned her or drowned her in the bathtub, but my grandmother is responsible for my mother’s death just the same.”

  Midge sunk her fingers into the bowl of almonds. “The way I see it, your inheritance from your grandmother is payment for the mental and physical abuse you endured under her roof. That money would have rightfully gone to your mother. And since she’s not alive, it belongs to you.” She popped a handful of almonds into her mouth.

  “It belongs to my sister and me. She has a right to half the money,” Ellie said, verbalizing for the first time what she’d been thinking since she learned she had a twin. “That is, if she’s still alive. I’m worried that maybe my grandmother killed Lia.”

  Midge sucked in her breath. “It’s hard to imagine, but it’s not out of the question when you consider what you already know about your grandmother. She pushed your mother, her own daughter, down the stairs. Maybe she killed Lia by accident. Find your housekeeper. She has the answers you need.”

  “Of course she does. Why else would she disappear when I started pressing her for information? But who’s she covering for? My mother and grandmother are both dead.”

  “Maybe she’s covering for herself. I’m not saying she’s the one who harmed your sister, but she may have helped with the cover-up. And what about the cook? How does she fit into the picture?”

  “Who knows? Maybe Sally Bell had something to do with Lia’s disappearance.”

  “Do you have any ide
a where she is now?” Midge asked.

  “I’m sure she’s dead,” Ellie said. “She was an old woman even back then.”

  “Which brings us back to the housekeeper.” Midge looked at the table and picked up her phone. “I might be able to help you find her. I have a couple of online resources I can check. What’s her last name?”

  “Washington. Maddie Washington,” Ellie said as Midge keyed the name into her phone.

  “Have you asked Bennett Senior? He may know how to find her. I’m sure I’ll see him at some point over the weekend. I’m happy to mention it to him.”

  “That’s fine. Just don’t make a big deal out of it. If my grandmother turns out to be a murderer, I don’t want the whole town to know about it. I trust Bennett, but the fewer people who know about my situation the better. So far, I’ve told only you and Julian.”

  A wicked grin spread across her lips. “Julian, huh? Is he someone special? The only Julian I know is Julian Hagood.”

  “He’s the only Julian I know as well.”

  She nudged Ellie’s arm playfully. “He’s a catch, girlfriend. Half the single women in town are lusting after him.”

  Ellie smiled. “Sorry to disappoint you, but Julian and I are just friends.”

  “Then why is your face as red as your hair?” Midge said, tugging a lock of Ellie’s hair. “He’s a good man. That’s all I’m saying. He didn’t deserve his wife walking out on him like that.”

  They sat in silence while they sipped their wine and watched the blue sky fade to yellow.

  “I’m curious,” Midge said, breaking the silence at last. “When your father came to Charleston for you after your mother died, did your grandmother mention anything about him having another child?”

  Ellie jerked her head back. Was it possible her father knew about her twin sister? Surely he would’ve told her if he did. “As far as I know, she never mentioned my twin, but my past is not my father’s favorite topic of conversation.”

  “I didn’t mean to hit a sore nerve,” Midge said.

  “It’s a legitimate question, Midge, the first one I plan to ask my father when I talk to him.” Ellie finished her wine. ”But there’s another possibility that makes the most sense to me. My mother mentions putting us up for adoption several times in her journals. My guess is, she either put Lia up for adoption or found someone to take care of her.”

  “If that’s true, why Lia and not you?”

  “Because my grandmother hated Lia more, if that’s even possible. My twin was the spitting image of our Jewish father. I’m embarrassed to admit, my grandmother was a bigot.”

  Lines creased Midge’s forehead. “You may be on to something, Ellie. I’m sure your mother was terrified for your lives after your grandmother pushed her down the stairs. If she had the choice of getting only one of you to safety . . .”

  “She would have chosen the one most at risk.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Ellie

  Ellie declined Midge’s offer to drive her home. “Thanks, but I’d rather walk.” Energized by the crisp salty air, she race-walked down the waterfront to East Bay Street. She was determined to find out what happened to her sister and locate her if she was still alive. She’d been so intent on finding her answers, she hadn’t considered what these revelations could mean for her. Maybe she and Lia would become friends, long-lost twin sisters with decades of making up to do.

  She called Julian when she was a block away from home. “I need a favor.”

  “So now you need my help,” he said in a teasing tone. “You’ve been avoiding my texts all day.”

  “I’ll explain when you come over.” When she heard Mills barking in the background, she slowed her pace. Had she been presumptuous in thinking he’d make himself available to her whenever she summoned him? “Unless, of course, you’re in the middle of something.”

  “Actually, I’m in the middle of making shrimp ceviche. If you can give me forty-five minutes, I’ll bring dinner.”

  Relief swept over her. Her feelings for him were deepening. “You’re on. I can never say no to ceviche.” Or to you, she thought.

  Ellie took her first shower in two days and dressed in a gray knit tunic, black leggings, and ankle booties. She smeared on some makeup and blow-dried her strawberry-blonde mane. She was descending the stairs when Julian arrived with Mills by his side, a sketchbook tucked under his arm, and a tote bag stuffed with edible goodies. She took the tote bag from him and led the way to the kitchen.

  “I love what you’ve done with the place,” he said about the empty rooms. “One can actually hear themselves think in here now.”

  “I know, right?” she said over her shoulder. “Makes me want to go out and buy a pair of roller skates.”

  He was unloading the food containers and bottle of wine from the tote bag when she reached for his sketch pad. “Are you planning to work while you’re here?”

  He smacked her hand away. “I have some drawings I want to show you, but they’ll have to wait until after dinner. Let’s get the work out of the way first. I’m guessing you don’t need my help moving furniture since there’s none left.”

  “Ha-ha. Aren’t you the comedian?”

  When she told him what she wanted, he dropped his smile and studied her face. “Have you been drinking?”

  “I may have had a glass of wine with Midge earlier. But that has nothing to do with this.” She took him by the hand and dragged him through the house and up the stairs to the second floor. She handed him the tools he needed as he rehung her grandmother’s bedroom door.

  “There. Now.” He stepped back to admire his work. “Are we going to stand here and wait to see if the door closes?”

  She slapped his arm with the back of her hand. “You’ll understand my paranoia when I tell you what my grandmother did to my mother.”

  Back in the kitchen, Julian uncorked the bottle of rosé he’d brought over while Ellie filled two bowls with ceviche topped off with the pita triangles he’d toasted. They took their dinner to the table on the terrace.

  “The air is so fresh.” Ellie inhaled deeply. “I know the tree isn’t in bloom right now, but I can almost smell the fragrant magnolia blossoms.”

  “The spring and autumn months are by far the most enjoyable in Charleston. You have an unpleasant surprise in store for you come summer. The humidity here is almost unbearable.”

  Ellie thought about it a minute. “Now that you mention it, I remember how hot and humid the weather could get in the summer. We used to keep our windows open all the time with the ceiling fans rotating on full blast. We must not have had air-conditioning back then. Or my grandmother was too cheap to turn it on.”

  With their arms occasionally touching, they nibbled at their ceviche and sipped wine while she filled him in on what she’d learned in her mother’s final journals.

  “What did your father have to say about all this?” he asked when she finished talking.

  She stared down at her empty plate.

  “Please tell me you called your father.”

  “Not yet. But I’m going to on Sunday.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear as she looked up from her plate. “It’s been a long couple of weeks, and I need the weekend to myself to process everything.”

  “I can understand that.” Propping his elbows on the table, he leaned closer to her. “Do your plans for the weekend include me?”

  “Only if you’re interested in helping me buy a car. I figured it was time I returned my rental to the airport.”

  He puffed out his chest. “As it happens, I’m an expert at negotiating good deals on cars. What kind of car are you looking for? I know salespeople at most of the dealerships.”

  “I was thinking about a MINI Cooper. The small size is perfect for navigating this awful traffic.”

  “And for chauffeuring Pip-squeak around town.” When Pixie’s ears perked up, Julian reached down and petted her on the head. “Good girl. You’re learning your new name.”

>   Ellie laughed and tossed her wadded paper napkin at him.

  They took their empty plates to the kitchen, rinsed and stored them in the dish rack, and refilled their wineglasses. “Can I look at these now?” she asked, her hand on his sketchbook.

  He nodded. “You may.”

  She flipped through the elevation drawings he’d done of her kitchen. Several of the drawings showed walls of cabinets with built-in, commercial-grade appliances. One of the two she liked the best featured a table and banquette incorporated into a wall of windows, while the other was an illustration of the wet bar area with wine storage they’d discussed.

  “These are stunning, Julian. I hate to disappoint you when you’ve given my renovation so much thought, but I talked to Midge about putting the house on the market today.”

  “Do you really want to make that decision now with so many unanswered questions looming over you?” She started to interrupt, but he silenced her with a fingertip to her lips. “This house has been filled with too much sadness for way too long. She has strong bones and an honest soul. Why not breathe a little life back into her by giving her a face-lift?” His face softened as he spoke of the house as one might a loved one. She realized then the depth of his commitment to the historic buildings in the area.

  “I’m not sure how much life a forty-year-old unmarried woman and her pip-squeak dog can breathe into a centuries-old mansion.”

  She flipped to the next page of his sketchbook, a drawing of her reclined in the leather chair in his den, her hands gripping her mother’s journal and her face pinched in pain. She ran her fingers across the drawing. “Whoa. I look so . . .”

  “Fixated? You didn’t even realize I was sketching you.”

  “I was going to say desperate.” She let the cover on the sketchbook fall shut and backed away from him. “Is that what I am to you, Julian? A lost soul you feel the need to rescue like one of your beloved old buildings?”

  “Hold on a minute. I’m sorry you got the wrong impression. Yes, your emotions are raw in the sketch, but desperate? Never. Pained? For sure, and understandably so considering what you’re going through. But that’s what I admire so much about you. You’re not afraid to show your emotions. You’re one of the few women I’ve met in a very long time who has real honest-to-goodness feelings.” Closing the gap between them, he cupped her face in his hands. “What are you to me? Right now, you’re my friend, but I’d like for you to be a whole lot more than that one day, once you’ve sorted out your life.”