Magni

by Janice M. Whiteaker

  Fifteen minutes later, the bed was together and Magni slid the mattress and box spring in place.

  And Gail was still fucking standing there.

  He tossed his tools into the box and snapped the latches into place. “All yours.” As Magni tried to pass her, Gail stepped directly in his path.

  He sidestepped.

  So did she.

  For a little woman his brother’s widow sure knew how to take up more than her fair share of space.

  “Get out of my way Gail. Making your damn bed took up my whole afternoon. I have shit to do.”

  Her eyes narrowed at him. “What in the hell has been wrong with you lately?”

  Magni stared over her head. “The same thing that’s wrong with all of us. We’re busting our asses to keep up with this place.”

  “You think you’re the only one that’s tired?”

  Magni took a deep breath, trying to keep his irritation in check. “I just said we were all busting our asses didn’t I?”

  She crossed her arms. “You’re the only one being a pain in the ass about it.”

  “I beg to differ.”

  Gail’s eyes widened and her mouth dropped open in offense.

  He took advantage of the opportunity, giving her a grin as he quickly stepped around her. “Bye Gail.”

  That woman was hell on wheels. That’s why he didn’t slow down until he was down the stairs and outside. That was the only reason he would admit to himself anyway.

  He was getting away from Gail.

  “Magni.”

  “Shit.” He kept the word under his breath as he dropped his toolbox into the passenger floorboard and shut the door. He turned to face Hagen. “Your mama call you bitching about me already?”

  “Christ.” Hagen looked back at the B&B. “Why do you have to irritate her like that? Now she’s going to give me hell about it.”

  Magni tapped a cigarette loose of the pack he’d been nursing all week and pinched it between his lips. “I’m surprised she isn’t already.”

  Hagen’s phone started to ring from his pocket. “Damn it Magni.” His nephew pulled out the phone and checked the screen. He gave Magni a dirty look as he silenced the ringer. “I don’t have time for this.”

  “That’s what I tried to explain to her.” Magni cupped one hand around the cigarette as he lit the end. “Everyone is covered up.”

  Hagen looked across the garden. “I think we need to start delegating better.” His gaze flicked back to Magni, eyes landing hard on the cigarette in his mouth. “I thought you were quitting?”

  Magni sucked in a lungful of tobacco flavored air. “Workin’ on it.”

  Mostly because he was tired of hearing about it.

  “Work harder.” Hagen shifted, barely moving weight from one foot to the other. It was a small move. One most people wouldn’t think a thing of but Magni knew better.

  His nephew was worried. Probably with good reason.

  Hagen looked at Magni. “I can’t stop thinking about this morning.” His jaw was tight as he looked around. “I don’t even know what to do. How to fix it.” He shook his head. “I’ve got a family to think about and I can’t stand the idea of what’s out there.”

  Magni pulled the cigarette from his lips and pinched the tip, snuffing it out before tucking the half-smoked butt back in with the rest of his pack. “Let Jerrik worry about it. You’ve got enough on your plate.”

  It was easier said than done. What he found this morning would keep Magni up tonight and he imagined it would be the same for his nephews. That’s why he didn’t want to show them.

  But he had to.

  “Jerrik will figure this out.” Magni dropped a hand on Hagen’s shoulder, giving it a firm pat he hoped felt more reassuring to his nephew than it did to him. “I’ll keep a lookout up there.” He walked around to the door of his truck. “Maybe this will be all that happens.”

  “Maybe.” The lines of Hagen’s face were tight.

  He didn’t believe that any more than Magni did.

  Magni opened the door and slid into the driver’s seat. Hagen leaned in through the open passenger’s window. “Be careful up there.”

  “I will.” Magni started the truck, giving Hagen a nod as he pulled away, settling back into his seat for the drive home to his cabin. Back to the quiet isolation he surrounded himself with. Keeping a distinct line between him and everyone else.

  For his own good.

  And theirs.

  2

  Christine bumped out her hip, using the soft ledge of her body to balance the clear plastic storage box she carried as one hand reached for the door.

  The sweet smell of the honeysuckle candles burning inside wafted over her face as the glass door opened before she had a chance to grab it. Rhea smiled out at her. “Hey lady.”

  “Morning.” Christine edged past her friend, being careful not to bump the baby strapped to Rhea’s chest with the box in her arms. “How are you girls this beautiful day?”

  “We are crabby.” Rhea followed her into the gallery toward the large table displayed in the center of the store. “One of us is anyway.”

  Christine slid the box onto the wide table. “Oh no.” She gently stroked Annabelle’s little head. “What’s the matter?”

  “Not her. She’s fine.” Rhea patted the tiny butt settled into the jersey wrap holding her daughter against her chest. “Mamma’s just a little tired.”

  “I can imagine.” Christine flipped open the lid of the box. “You want to go home and take a break and I’ll watch the gallery for you?”

  “Nah.” Rhea peeked into the box as Christine started to unload this week’s batch of key chains. “This one would wake up the minute my eyes closed and start screaming her head off.” Rhea looked at Christine and gave her a wink. “I think she might be psychic.”

  Christine laughed as she lined up punched metal footprints, organizing them by color, her pulse jumpy with excitement and a little bit of nerves. “Hopefully it works out better for her than it did for me.” She held her breath and waited as her friend’s eyes landed on the items she unpacked. Would Rhea like her new design or would her offerings in the gallery be as limited as what the general store carried?

  Rhea gently touched a rose gold keychain. “Those are beautiful.”

  Christine felt a little blush creep onto her cheeks at the appreciation. Rhea was so different from everyone else around here, and not just because she was an empath and a healer. Gail and her boys were practical. They would never have noticed these chains were any different from the other, more rustic looking ones they’d sold for years at the general store. “I thought maybe these would sell well now that our clientele has changed.”

  Rhea picked up a shiny gold keychain and dangled it in the air. The clean-edged footprint slowly moved from side to side, the smooth surface catching in the light from the large windows of the gallery. “I think we’ll sell these like crazy.” Hagen’s wife set the keychain down and went back to peeking in the box. “What else do you have in here?”

  Christine chewed her lip as she pulled out an item she’d wanted to make for years. “If you don’t think these will do well then that’s okay.” She held up the delicate gold chain with a tiny footprint slide charm.

  “Holy crap Christine.” Rhea flattened her palm at the back of the charm, letting it lay across her hand as she inspected the jewelry. “I freaking love it.” Her brown eyes looked up. “How many do you have?”

  “Uh.” Christine did a mental count. “Fifteen. Five gold, five silver, and five rose gold.”

  Rhea spun around. “I think we should all wear these.” She grabbed the weight of heavy red hair hanging down her back and twisted it up. “Can you put that one on me?”

  Christine carefully slipped the chain around her friend’s neck and pinched open the clasp. “Do you think people will really like these?”

  Rhea fingered the charm as it fell against her skin, her eyes searching the room. “We need a mirror in here.�
� She walked to the window and used it to study her reflection. “I think people will love these. You should make more of these.” Rhea turned to face her. “Like, now.”

  Christine pinched her lips together to stifle the embarrassing smile Rhea’s praise was bringing on. “I can do that.” She turned to unpack the rest of the necklaces, trying to keep her excitement in check. After years of cranking out boring key chains the prospect of finally being able to branch out creatively on the jewelry she sold in town made Christine want to bust out of her skin.

  And it couldn’t have come at a better time.

  Rhea scanned the table where they were working. “We need a better setup for your stuff.” She pursed her lips as she looked around the shop, her brown eyes slowly scanning the large space filled with beautiful handcrafted furniture, artwork, and pottery all by local artisans.

  “What else can you do?” Rhea started to gently bounce as Annabelle stirred.

  Christine finished unpacking the necklaces and keychains. She shouldn’t share anymore of her life than she had to with Rhea. With anyone for that matter. Opening up was risky business for someone like her but maybe she could be careful. Move the lines she drew for herself just a little.

  But only with Rhea.

  Because Rhea understood. They were women burdened with a similar fate. Luckily it worked out well for one of them.

  “I do glass work.”

  Rhea’s brows went up. “Like glass blowing?”

  “Right now I just do cold work like stained glass.” Christine paused. Her artistic endeavors were something she didn’t share with many people around here. Partly because living in a place like this made you practical and practical people didn’t understand her need to make something beautiful in a world that had shown her more darkness than light.

  And partly because she didn’t want to blur the lines in the sand and risk running into the problems of her past.

  But Rhea was different.

  “I want to learn glass blowing but I don’t have the space for all the equipment at my house.” Christine set the box on the floor and struggled to arrange the necklaces across the table next to the spinning rack where her keychains were displayed. Trying to keep the chains from tangling and looking like a mess was not an easy task. “I already use the spare bedroom for all my jewelry making stuff. Not that having a glassblowing setup in your house is a great idea.”

  Rhea’s eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly. They slid from the necklaces on the table to Christine. “How long have you been making jewelry?”

  There was that line again, with Rhea’s toe pressed right against it. But it was only about her work, nothing a well-educated Google search couldn’t find anyway. “Years.”

  Rhea dropped her eyes to where the necklaces were lined across the table and cocked her head. “And what do you do with all the jewelry you make?”

  “I sell it online. I have an Etsy store.” Christine didn’t mention that her store did pretty well. A woman couldn’t live on keychain money alone. But that information resided securely on the other side of the line. It was too personal. Too close. Too risky and too slippery of a slope.

  “Holy crap Christine. Why aren’t they having you sell it here? That is exactly the kind of thing people are looking for in a place like this.” Rhea stopped and stared at her. Slowly her eyes narrowed.

  Christine held her breath. She loved Rhea and for the first time since losing her mother she had someone else who understood her and what it was like to be different. But Rhea was a double-edged sword. She could see things no one else could and that meant Christine had to be hyper vigilant. Careful to keep the metaphorical wall she built around herself all those years ago shored up and strong.

  “You should be proud of what you do.” Rhea reached out to grab her hand. “Even if other people don’t get it.”

  Christine nodded as the warmth of Rhea’s energy eased up her arm.

  Rhea winked at her. “They’re going to kick themselves for not asking about this sooner.”

  The electronic bell on the gallery’s door dinged and a young couple strolled in. Rhea sighed. “Duty calls.” She turned to Christine as she walked toward her customers. “I’ll call you later about that.” She motioned to the table of Christine’s creations.

  “Okay.” Christine grabbed her now-empty box, letting the smile she’d stifled earlier creep onto her lips as she made her way toward the front of the gallery. Having people you didn’t know appreciate what you did was one thing. Finally having someone you felt comfortable sharing it with was another.

  A beautiful side table caught her eye as she passed. Christine stopped, glancing over one shoulder as she hesitated beside the piece. Rhea was occupied by the couple, chatting happily about Annabelle and the new diner going in next door.

  Christine turned her attention back to the table. It would be perfect in her living room. There was a spot just inside her door where it could tuck right against the wall and greet her every time she came home.

  It would be the only thing to greet her.

  She reached out to touch it, her hand hovering over the soft sheen of the hand rubbed oak. Slowly, Christine lowered her palm to the top and let her guard down, just a little. Her breath caught as she saw Magni working in his shop, laboring over every detail. She yanked her hand away and looked around, guilt gnawing at her insides.

  No matter how beautiful the table was, it could never be in her house. The temptation would be too great to break a promise she made years ago.

  Like she did just now.

  Without looking back Christine hurried from the gallery and across the street to the B&B for her second stop of the day. Gail was in the foyer as she opened the front door. Her longtime friend looked at her watch then up at Christine. “Is it lunch time already?”

  “If you don’t have time today then we can reschedule.” Only Christine didn’t want to reschedule. The two women hadn’t had as much time to spend together now that things were getting busier around town and Christine was looking forward to catching up with her oldest friend. The woman had a way of entertaining and the distraction was desperately needed today. There was still a lot of daylight left and Christine wasn’t ready to face what waited for her at home. Not yet. “I can stay and help if you’re behind.”

  Gail’s shoulders dropped a little, her relief at Christine’s offer obvious. “If you could help me that would be great.” She swiped at a stray strand of hair falling from her clipped back twist. “I feel like I’ve been running around like a chicken with its head cut off all day.”

  “I would love to help you.” Christine set her empty box beside the door. “What do you need me to do?”

  This was the kind of friendship they had. One that never went too deep. Not into Christine’s life anyway. Gail was an open book, always quick to take the lead of their conversations, pouring out anything and everything happening in her life, making it easy for Christine to keep it more superficial and one-sided than the other woman noticed. On her end anyway.

  Gail wrapped one arm around Christine’s shoulders and led her down the wide main hall of the bed and breakfast toward the kitchen at the back of the large building. “Let’s have lunch first.” She took a deep breath. “Then we have to make beds and get ready for the afternoon check-ins.”

  Christine slid into a seat at the long table in the kitchen and resisted the urge to revisit her vision from the gallery. Carefully folding her hands on her lap she pushed her wall higher as the temptation to touch the dining table called to her like a siren. It was an effort she’d repeated countless times over the years. Enough that it should be easy, but lately it was only getting harder.

  She forced her eyes away from the well-worn surface and toward Gail. “I take it things have been hectic around here?”

  Gail pulled a tray of cold cuts from the fridge and slid them onto the counter. “I thought we were ready for this but we’re having a hard time keeping up with it all.” She glanced up at Christine. “Sand
wiches okay?”

  “Of course.” Christine stood up, stepping away from the table Magni built, needing to get a little distance from another reminder of the price that came with what she could do. “What do you want to drink?”

  “Tea is fine.” Gail set two plates on the counter in front of her and started stacking bread, meat, and lettuce. “This is what we were hoping for and I’m sure it’s just growing pains but we’re all a little overwhelmed with everything there is to get done around here.”

  Christine set two glasses of tea on the table along with a bag of chips and a jar of pickles. “I’m happy to come help whenever I can.” She smiled at Gail. “Have you had any luck finding someone to help out full-time?”

  Gail grabbed the plates and came to sit beside Christine. “It’s hard because we are so far away from the city.” She bit off a corner of her sandwich. “We need to figure out how to get some apartments built here so people who want to work in town have a place to live.” She washed it down with a swig of tea. “We’re stuck for a while though I think.”

  It was hard to see her friend so exhausted. “I wish there was more I could do.” Christine knew Gail would work herself to death making sure her family was taken care of. She was a caretaker. Always had been. That’s how their friendship started.

  Gail’s mouth pinched into a frown. “I can handle it.” She shook her head and popped a chip in her mouth. “I worry about Magni.”

  Christine forced her body to stay perfectly still instead of shifting in her seat. Magni was a touchy subject for her. Always had been.

  Probably always would be.

  “He’s covered up with work and he doesn’t take care of himself.” Gail took her aggravation out on her sandwich, ripping a bite off with her teeth. “I don’t know why he has to isolate himself like that.”

  It was a conversation they’d had many times over the years and it never got easier to lie to Gail. It never got easier to lie to anyone. That’s why she built the wall.