The Life & Death of Jorja Graham

by Brynn Myers

  I texted her back. “Leaving now. See u soon and I owe you big time. How many bottles of wine and dinners will this cost me?”

  Her response…“You can’t afford me.”

  I laughed again but I knew I’d find a way to thank her somehow. I drove down the street and turned onto the road that would take me away from this place and home to my normal, peaceful, dull existence. I couldn’t be happier about the fact that I was only hours away from a drama-free life.

  c h a p t e r

  FIVE

  The traffic wasn’t too bad, only a few backups, which could be blamed on the end-of-summer vacationers heading home from Hilton Head. Otherwise it was smooth sailing. I let my mind wander, which was a normal occurrence whenever I drove long distances. I’d already put twelve things on my mental “must get done by the end of the week” list and I had only reached Wednesday so far. My top priority was to call Paxton and pick his brain about everything he knew concerning Rhetta Rhyland and her family legacy. Since there was no telling what Mr. Holbrook intended to do with the property once the papers were signed, I thought it would be a good idea to turn the auction into a historical moment and give the estate's antiques the send-off they deserved.

  As I continued to contemplate the upcoming event, I turned onto my exit and pondered if I should stop by my aunts' house, but thought twice about it as I passed Calhoun Square. We only lived a few blocks from one another, but the thought of a hot shower and some time to relax beat out visiting until later. As I pulled up to my street, I sighed happily. I loved my quaint house on the corner; my only complaint was the street parking but it must’ve been my lucky day because there was an open spot right in front of my house.

  Once I eased into the space, I got out of the car and caught site of my elderly neighbor sitting on her front porch, fanning herself as she rocked in her rattan rocker. She waved and called out, “Nice to finally have you home, Jorja.”

  “It’s nice to finally be home, Miss Ellen,” I replied as I grabbed my purse and computer bag out of the front seat. I waved good-bye and headed up the few steps to my front door. As I turned the lock and walked into my house, the smell of fried chicken wafted through the air. I instantly knew my desire for some time alone had passed when Aunt Heddie called out from the kitchen, "Jorja, darlin', is that you?"

  As I rounded the corner, I just had to smile. Every square inch of my kitchen counter was covered with food. Shrimp ‘n’ grits, homemade biscuits, fried green tomatoes, ambrosia, Vivian’s famous red velvet cake slathered in cream cheese icing and toasted pecans, and a covered dish, which I knew was Heddie’s jambalaya.

  “Well good Lord, who’d y’all invite, the entire neighborhood?”

  “Now hush, it’s just us and Cat but you know we can’t just make a small amount of anything,” Vivian said as she pulled me into one of her mamma bear hugs. “Besides, now we won’t have to cook for a week. We’ll just mix and match all these leftovers.”

  Heddie laughed as she wiped her hand on a kitchen towel, pointing behind Vivian’s head and making the “she’s crazy” face.

  “Y’all stop teasing me. I missed you sweet girl and this is a day to celebrate, is it not?” Vivian grumbled as she walked back over to the stove to check on the fried chicken.

  My mouth began to water and I realized in my rush to get home I hadn't stopped to eat, so now, that chicken was practically calling my name. It was Grama’s family recipe; a secret recipe, handed down from generation to generation, but only to the girls and never to the daughter-in-laws. You had to be blood or Grama wouldn’t share the mystery ingredients. My father’s mother was adamant that we all be taught the proper way to fry chicken. “Slow and low,” she’d say. Her sweet voice so delicate yet filled with a strength I could only hope to possess someday. I’ll never forget the day she’d showed me how she made it. “You can’t never tell anyone, darlin’, understand? This is a recipe you’ll have to take to your grave unless you have a baby girl of your own.” My response was always, "Yes ma’am."

  The thought made me laugh and then I felt a tinge of guilt. I hadn’t found anyone I’d considered worthy enough of my time, so children, much less a girl, seemed as likely as running into a vampire in broad daylight.

  When I was young she’d always sit me on the counter and I’d watch as she dredged the chicken in flour and spices then cooked it in vegetable oil for hours on end. I’m sure today the health nuts of the world would have a fit at chicken sitting in grease for hours, but that was the thing, it was never greasy, it was simply the best fried chicken I’d ever eaten. My aunts knew it was my favorite and something I never took the time to make for myself.

  “You day-dreamin’ again, Jorja?” Heddie asked.

  “Yeah, I guess I was. I was thinking about when Grama taught me to make chicken for the first time."

  Vivian tossed her head back and laughed one of her deep bellowing laughs. “I remember my first time, too. I remember what Daddy said when we were learning. Do you remember what he used to say, Heddie?”

  Heddie joined Vivian in laughter. “Girls, you listen to every word your mamma is saying, cause the only way you’ll ever get a better piece of chicken is if you’re a rooster.”

  I burst out laughing too. I’d never had the pleasure of meeting my granddaddy. He’d passed on when I was just a baby, but he lived on in the stories Daddy and my aunts always shared. This whole side of my family line came from good stock. Humble, humorous, and stubborn to a fault. Blood or not, these were traits I also possessed, proving nurture had won the battle over nature in my case.

  My aunts and I continued to reminisce about my grandparents and then Daddy’s antics as a child. We laughed and joked about some of the crazy things he did but thankfully glazed over anything regarding his time with my mother. Then again, the happy times with her were few and far between.

  The Grahams had come from a long line of successful farmers but after Grama and Poppa died, Heddie, Vivian, and Daddy, who had no interest in the farm, opted to sell the land for a hefty sum. They divvied up the money evenly and lived the lives they wanted to live. Heddie had married a wealthy investment banker from Louisiana. Vivian married her high school sweetheart and traveled all over the world until the day her husband became ill. It was then that they finally settled down back here. My uncle Asher was the reason I fell in love with history and antiques. He was an antiquities dealer and taught me much of what I know. He was also the reason Vivian opened Generations Antiques; it paid homage to the life she treasured. And last but not least, Daddy. He became a tenured professor, who'd taught for almost 30 years. It was too bad Mother didn’t think he was successful, because among the community, he was a revered and beloved law professor.

  “What’s with all the cackling in here?” Catarina’s voice called out from the front room.

  I pushed off the counter and we met halfway, hugging as if we hadn’t seen one another in ages. We were used to short stints apart, a week here, a week there. Cat was a model and traveled all over the world, but these past few months, she’d stayed in town and helped my aunts at the shop. We talked on the phone, of course, but our conversations were always brief because of Mother's never-ending commentary in the background.

  “I missed you. Thank you so much for taking care of Lulu. I’ll never be able to repay you, you know that, right?” I muttered over her shoulder.

  “I missed you too and you don’t owe me anything, Jorja. I’m just glad you are finally home and out of that prison.”

  At that, my resolve shattered. Tears began to flow down my cheek rapidly, splashing onto Cat’s shoulder. My aunts must’ve heard us, because they wrapped their arms around us both and whispered that everything was going to be all right.

  “I love you all. Thank you for supporting me and loving me in spite of everything.”

  “It’s never been hard to love you, Jorja. You’ve always deserved more than you thought,” Heddie said as she pulled out of the group hug. “Now let’s go eat before th
is turns into a depressing evening instead of a joyous one.”

  Lulu meowed from the small cat carrier Catarina had brought her home in and we all laughed. “I think Lulu seconds that,” I responded as I opened the metal latch, releasing her.

  We all walked into the kitchen and began pouring glasses of wine, piling our plates high, and gabbing about all the local gossip I’d missed. It seemed, however, they’d waited until I'd downed two glasses of Merlot before they decided to drop the biggest bomb. All three of them looked back and forth between one another and then over to me. “Whatever you all are not telling me you need to spill it. I’m not an egg, I won’t crack at the slightest bump in the road.” I raised one eyebrow and took another sip of my wine. “What, did someone already put an offer in on Rhetta’s estate? Because I wouldn’t be surprised…”

  “No darlin', it’s still for sale, but the man you’ll be dealing with has been chomping at the bit to get that auction in motion.”

  “I know,” I said as I rolled my eyes. “He called me this morning as I was pulling out of Mother’s driveway. He was an arrogant ass, questioning my abilities, and telling me when he expected me to start work. I don’t know who the hell he thinks he is.” I couldn't help the disgust that layered my last few words.

  Heddie and Vivian pursed their lips while Cat, played with her hair and looked away. “What? You three are gonna make me crazy. Am I not crazy enough? Spill it.”

  Vivian spoke first. “Well, first off we’re sorry we gave him your cell number but he put the pressure on us when he walked into the shop. He just talked it right out of us.”

  “Oh, don’t you dare put that on me, Viv, he charmed you, not me,” Heddie quipped.

  “He charmed you both and don’t you even try to deny it,” Cat said as she looked over at me with a smartass expression on her face. “He’s handsome, very handsome actually, and when he walked in and started asking about you and your skills with antiques, both of your aunts spilled the beans.”

  “Traitor. We knew you’d tattle on us,” Vivian said to Cat. I just sat there dumbfounded. I couldn’t believe them. They were all sitting there beaming while I was still trying to figure out if we were talking about the same person.

  “Corbin Holbrook? A charmer?” I asked as they nodded their heads with grins still on full display. “Did he have some oceanfront property in Arizona to sell y’all, too?” I leaned forward to pour another glass of wine but only a few drops splashed into the glass. I stood up and walked into the kitchen to grab another bottle."

  “Jorja, I know what you are thinking and it’s not...”

  “Oh really, what am I thinking, Aunt Heddie?” I interrupted as I attempted to uncork the bottle I was clenching between my thighs. The cork popped and I walked back towards the sofa. “Let me guess, he was the customer you had early this morning.”

  “No, that was a lovely young couple on their way to breakfast. Then Paxton came by to tell us that Corbin would be in around eleven to speak with you. But don’t worry, we made up a story to cover…stalled him like you said. We just didn’t expect him to look like he did,” Vivian said as she looked over to Heddie for reassurance.

  I looked over at Heddie. “Oh, Corbin is it? What happened to you, Heddie? You’re always the sensible, level-headed one.”

  Cat burst out laughing at my comment.

  “No laughing, you were in on this, too. What is so fantastic about this man that had you all so flustered?” I demanded.

  “Well, for one thing he’s the epitome of tall, dark, and handsome. He reminded me of Jean Luc the first day I met him,” Heddie said as Vivian interrupted, “Oh, he did look like Jean Luc, except with russet brown eyes.” Vivian turned to look at me. “He is at least six three and those eyes of his have the slightest hint of gold flickering in them.”

  I am pretty sure my mouth was hanging open at this point; did he put a spell on my aunts? I knew they always appreciated a handsome southern gentleman, but from the conversation I had with Mr. Holbrook, he was far from gentlemanly. “Are you two describing a fictional book character or something? This man is not Rhett Butler for crying out loud.”

  At that Cat piped in. “No, but just wait until you meet him for yourself, Jorja. He’s charismatic and you may just find that he’s worth a second chance.”

  “Oh Lord, not you, too? You are the biggest skeptic of men I’ve ever met. Men are all asses in one form or another, is that not what you always say?”

  “Well hell, Jorja, I’m not advocating you marry him, but I do believe a little sexual liaison might do you some good,” Cat said as she raised her eyebrows and tipped her glass towards me while my aunts howled with laughter.

  “I glared at them. “Yeah, you three are hysterical.”

  “Oh lighten up, darlin',” Heddie teased. “If a good rousing isn’t in your future plans, a girl can always use a good meal.”

  “You are all hopeless,” I said with a smile. “I don’t need to eat that bad.”

  That was the end of the inquisition. We spent the next hour laughing, cleaning up the kitchen, and finishing off that last bottle of wine. Before they all left for the night, we unloaded my car and set everything in the front room. I’d deal with boxes tomorrow. All I wanted now was to fall into my own bed, with my cat curled up at my feet. And with regard to Mr. Holbrook, well, I’d decide for myself if he was worthy of anything more than a business conversation. I flipped off my bedside lamp and smiled as the light from the street peeked in. I was home and I couldn’t have been more grateful.

  c h a p t e r

  SIX

  I opened the window just above my kitchen sink and let the cool breeze waft in. It was a beautiful morning. The sun was shining and the temperature was ideal. The shop was only a few blocks away and a walk to work would do me some good. After what Cat and my aunts said last night, Mr. Holbrook would most likely be contacting me at some point today, if not showing up in person. It was almost nine o’clock and I needed to finish getting ready. I knew my aunts didn’t really need me today, but I also knew the stack of papers on my desk weren’t going to check themselves.

  I opted for something casual, but even my casual was dressy to most. I couldn’t help it really. Years of my mother expecting me to look a certain way, mixed with my best friend being a top model, well, yeah, fashion was a bit of a must. I zipped up the back of the white peplum shirt and rolled up the ends of my skinny jeans, transforming them into Capris. My hair was still a bit damp from this morning’s shower so I pulled it into a soft side braid so I could be on my way. As I looked in the mirror I just needed a few more things, a bit of jewelry and some heels and I was out of here.

  I grabbed my bag on the way out the door and did the dance with Lulu, demanding that she stay in the house all warm and cozy, that the outside world would not be as welcoming. She reluctantly agreed and went to curl up on the Victorian settee next to the front window. “I won’t be gone all day, so no moping.” Her answer came in the form of pained meow as she sprawled out, her back to me. “Fine. Be that way,” I said as I clicked the lock. She meowed one last time and I chuckled to myself. Ah, to have the life of my cat.

  I walked down the tree-lined street, mentally counting the steps to Cool Beans Café. I needed one of their grande specials with extra whip. As I walked into the café, the smell of baked muffins and fresh brewed coffee assaulted my senses. The owner and his wife came out of the back with two trays of those hot, chocolate chip banana muffins I loved so much. It was their signature item, baked daily along with another flavor of the day.

  “Jorja, you’re back,” Hal called out.

  “I am and so glad, too. Did you bake these just for me?” I said with a big smile.

  “I did. I must have subliminally known you’d be stopping by today,” Evelyn teased.

  “Well, I’ll take a half dozen because you know if I walk into the shop with only one of those, Heddie and Vivian will have my head.”

  Hal laughed and started packaging them in a t
o-go box. “Did you want your usual coffee too, Jorja?”

  “Yes, sir. That would be wonderful.”

  Evelyn and Hal chatted as they prepared my order, telling me all about the tourists that had been arriving for the jazz festival. I’d completely forgotten it was coming up, but they were right; the town would be buzzing with a ton of people. I was inwardly ecstatic, knowing this would be perfect timing for the auction. I could really capitalize on the extra visitors to help boost the sales. Everyone who came to Savannah loved the history, but they really loved the haunted aspects of it, too. Rhetta’s home and furnishings would most certainly fetch their own level of attention, of that I had no doubt, but add the elements of her infamous life and I had the makings of a theatrical event. Hopefully it would be noteworthy enough to prove my abilities to Mr. Holbrook and bring him the instant gratification I assumed he was seeking.

  Evelyn handed me the square box tied with brown twine, another one of their signatures, and a steaming to-go cup of coffee. “Thank you. I cannot wait to dive into one of these,” I said as I turned to leave.

  I sucked in a shallow breath as a man walked into the café, his large frame filling the doorway. He was tall enough that he had to duck to enter and his face was paler than you’d normally see this time of year. The man cocked an eyebrow at me and I realized I’d been staring. “Sorry, excuse me.”