Scent of Magnolia

by Frances Devine

“We’re helping Margaret, Miss Edwards,” Molly said. “She gets headaches when she travels.”

  “In that case, it might be best if you two return to your own room and let Margaret lie down and rest. She can unpack her trunk later.”

  The girls scurried out and Helen laid the dress back in the trunk. She couldn’t help but notice all the dresses. “If you need help, Margaret, I’ll send one of the maids up to help you when they’re not busy. But you need to realize that we expect the students to take care of their own personal needs as much as possible.”

  The girl’s eyes shot daggers at Helen and when she spoke her voice was scornful. “In my old school, I had my own personal maid.”

  “That may very well be, my dear.” Helen kept her face pleasant. “But that’s not the way we operate here.”

  “Fine, you may leave now. I want to rest.” Margaret clamped her lips together and turned her back, but not before Helen noticed the tears that had filled her eyes.

  Helen shook her head and left the room, shutting the door softly. She knew Margaret’s parents had moved to Georgia from Alabama and hadn’t wanted their daughter to be so far away from them. Was the girl simply spoiled or was she perhaps brokenhearted over leaving dear friends and beloved teachers?

  Helen sighed. Time would tell. In the meantime, she had no intention of allowing Molly and Trudy to become the girl’s slaves, willing or unwilling.

  ❧

  “Pat! Pat Flannigan!”

  Patrick swung around and his heart leapt. Jane Fuller, a friend of Maureen’s, waved from across the street. Her red hair hung in curls below a fashionable sapphire-blue hat.

  He waited while she made her way across the busy street, closing his eyes when a boy on a bicycle dodged to miss her.

  Laughing, she stepped upon the sidewalk and grabbed his arm. “Pat, it’s so wonderful to see you.”

  “Jane, I thought that bike had you for sure. I see you’re still taking crazy risks.”

  She giggled and dropped his arm. “Why haven’t you been to see me, you naughty boy? It’s been over a year.”

  Had it really been that long? He sighed. How could he tell her that the sight of her caused him to miss Maureen that much more?

  “It’s all right. I understand.” She touched his arm. “But Pat, it’s been more than two years. Maureen wouldn’t want you to keep grieving.”

  “I know. And I’m not, really.” He smiled. “I guess I’ll always miss her. She was my childhood sweetheart, you know. Sometimes, I think that’s what I remember the most.”

  “But she’d want you to get on with your life. Fall in love again. Get married.” She paused and looked at him. “Uh oh. What’s the red face about? There is someone?”

  “Well, maybe. I’m not sure.” He frowned and stumbled for words.

  Jane tilted her head until she could look into his eyes. “Hmmm. This sounds very interesting. Too interesting to talk about in the middle of the sidewalk. Come to dinner tonight? Michael would love to see you.”

  “I’m sorry. I have an order that needs to be filled before tomorrow. I’ll be working late.” He hesitated then went on. “But I’m on my way to the café around the corner. Come eat lunch with me.”

  She tilted her head for a moment. “I think I will.” She turned and motioned to her carriage driver to follow then took Patrick’s arm.

  A few minutes later, they were settled at a neat table, covered with a red and white tablecloth.

  He tapped the table. “Not the fanciest place in town, but it’s clean and the food is good.”

  “Never mind the food. I want to hear about the woman you’re in love with.” She leaned forward and looked intently across the table at him.

  Patrick laughed. “Let’s order first. I’m starving.”

  “Oh, all right.” She flashed a smile at the waiter and ordered chicken salad and lemonade.

  “Now, tell me.” She folded her hands on the table.

  Patrick shook his head. “There’s not a lot to tell. I’ve fallen for one of the teachers at Molly’s school.”

  “Really?” Surprise filled her eyes. “Well, does she feel the same about you?”

  Their food arrived. After the waiter left, Jane bowed her head and Patrick prayed over the meal.

  She took a bite of her salad then glanced up. “Well?”

  “I’ve no idea.” He took a bite of his roast beef.

  “Oh, Pat. Don’t tell me you haven’t spoken to her about it.”

  “All right, I won’t tell you.” He grinned.

  Laughter pealed from her throat. “I’ve never known you to be shy.”

  “It’s not shyness.” He laid his fork on the plate and leaned back, suddenly without appetite.

  “At first, you see, I felt guilty. Like I was betraying Maureen. But lately, I realize that, like you said, Maureen would want me to marry again.”

  “Then what’s the problem?” Her eyes widened. “Do you doubt she’d be a good mother to Molly?”

  “No, Molly adores her and she seems to feel the same way.” He heaved a sigh. “I’m just not sure it would work. My business is here and she’s dedicated to the children at the school.”

  “Oh, is that all?” She sipped her lemonade then grinned. “Ask her. If she cares about you, she’ll leave that school in the blink of an eye.”

  “But would it be right for me to ask her to do that? It’s obvious she loves her work.”

  “Well, she’ll still have her work. She can teach Molly.” Jane took another sip. “There you are. The perfect solution. Now you can tell her how you feel about her.”

  Later, as Patrick worked at his bench, his thoughts turned back to their conversation. He wasn’t sure whether to be amused at Jane’s simple assessment of the situation or be irritated at her lack of understanding. It didn’t really matter, he supposed. The situation was still the same.

  ❧

  After thinking over Margaret’s educational needs, P.J. deter-mined that although she was so far ahead, she would continue with the other students in Helen’s classroom for the rest of the year, with some additional reading and essays to keep her from becoming bored. She could work at her own level in Charles’s mathematic and science classes. Over the summer, Helen and Hannah would work out Margaret’s classroom schedule for the following year.

  The week following Margaret’s arrival went well. She was respectful to the teachers and made friends with all the other children.

  Helen left her classroom on Friday with a breath of relief. They’d all misjudged the child. She’d probably been tired from traveling and that had caused her temporary behavior problem.

  Over the weekend, she noticed Margaret, Molly, and Trudy with their heads together several times. They seemed to be establishing their own little circle of friends but were still friendly with the other children.

  Helen went looking for Margaret after church on Sunday. She found her and the other girls talking beneath one of the magnolia trees in front of the house. Helen breathed in the lemony, sweet scent of the fresh blooms in appreciation. She loved the scent of magnolia.

  The girls glanced up as she approached and for an instant Helen saw the look of animosity in Margaret’s eyes; just as quickly, it was gone. Perhaps she’d imagined it.

  “Were you looking for us, Miss Edwards?” Margaret flashed a sweet smile.

  “As a matter of fact, I was looking for you, Margaret.” She sank down on the soft green grass beside them and tucked her skirt underneath her leg. “Did Trudy and Molly mention the Easter cantata?”

  “Why yes, they did.” A flicker of something flashed in her eyes, but once again it was gone. “I think it’s wonderful that Lily Ann is singing the lead part.”

  “Yes, our Lily has a beautiful voice. But so do the rest of the students.” She smiled at Molly and Trudy then turned to Margaret. “Would you like to sing in the choir, dear?”

  “Oh, could I?” Her voice lilted with excitement. “I’d really like that.”

  �
��Wonderful, we’re having practice tomorrow afternoon at two.” Helen rose from the soft ground and inhaled the fragrant air once more. “You girls need to get washed up for dinner. It won’t be long now.”

  “Yes, Miss Edwards,” they chorused. She smiled and went back inside. How nice to see them getting along so well. Margaret was nearly a year older than the other two girls, but they were close enough in age to enjoy each other’s company.

  Lily Ann was sitting on a bench in the parlor, alone. Her home was nearby and she usually went home on the weekends, but this Sunday her parents were away. She glanced up. “Hello, Miss Edwards.”

  “Lily Ann, why are you sitting here by yourself? Don’t you feel well?” Helen reached over and felt the child’s forehead. “You don’t seem to have a fever.”

  “I’m not sick. I’m just sitting here.” She tapped her fingers on the bench.

  “Would you like for me to read you a story, dear?” Lily Ann loved books and her braille skills weren’t up to the level of the books she wanted to read.

  She drew in a breath. “Oh yes, ma’am.”

  “All right. I think we’ll have time for a story after dinner.” She gave Lily a hug. “Your voice all fine-tuned for tomorrow’s cantata practice?”

  “I don’t know.” Lily whispered the words and her sightless eyes blinked fast.

  “Lily, are you crying?” Helen peered closely, but no tears were visible.

  “No, I’m not crying.” Once again, her eyes began to blink. It seemed more a nervous reaction than tears.

  “Are you sure something’s not wrong, Lily?”

  “Yes ma’am, I’m sure.” She stood. “May I be excused? Sissy said I could help set the table.”

  “Yes, of course. And don’t forget. We have a story-reading appointment right after dinner.”

  She watched the girl walk away toward the kitchen. She was such a little slip of a child. And usually cheerful. It wasn’t like her to appear melancholy. Helen scoffed at herself. Lily Ann most likely just missed her parents. And Helen needed to stop looking for trouble where there was none.

  “Helen.” At the sound of her name, Helen groaned as Charles walked across the foyer from the library. At least this was one problem she hadn’t imagined.

  “Charles, could we speak privately later? Perhaps after supper?”

  “Yes, of course. Shall we take a stroll down the lane?” His eyes held both hope and dread.

  After their walk, his eyes would only hold one emotion. It was time she stopped delaying the inevitable.

  Dread filled Helen’s heart all during supper. She only hoped Charles wouldn’t be too hurt at what she had to say. When the meal was over, she and Charles walked down the lane together. When they stopped beneath one of the live oaks, she looked up into his eyes.

  Charles sighed. “Your answer is no?”

  “I wish it could be yes, but I don’t feel that way about you, Charles. I consider you a dear friend and I hope we can remain so.”

  He smiled and, leaning forward, planted a kiss on top of her head. “We’ll always be friends, Helen. I regret putting you in this position. Let’s not mention it again.”

  At bedtime, as she sank into her soft mattress, she thanked the Lord for giving her the courage to at least set this one matter straight.

  nine

  Excitement rippled across the new auditorium and the children filed backstage, getting ready for the practice.

  Helen stood in the doorway and glanced over the huge room, envisioning chairs lined up side by side in rows from back to front. She gave a little chuckle. More than likely there would be about ten rows for the school staff, including the teachers, the students, and their families.

  Helen headed for the dozen or so chairs that had been brought in for those who wanted to watch the practice. She sat beside Abigail, who was glancing over a list of students who’d volunteered to be in the cantata. Worry was written all over her face.

  “Is anything wrong?” Helen hoped not. They only had a short time to get the musical together.

  Abigail looked up. She shook her head. “I’m not sure. Lily Ann withdrew from the cantata.”

  “What? But why?” The little girl loved to sing and had been looking forward to her solo as well as the acting itself.

  “She said she didn’t want to do it.” Abigail tapped her pencil against the chair beside her. “Did she seem melancholy while I was away?”

  Abigail and Lily Ann had grown very close during the time Abigail had taught the child. She’d been happy when Trent and Abigail married, but she missed her teacher very much.

  “No, she seemed fine.” Helen hesitated. “But, come to think of it, she was behaving a little strangely yesterday. Especially when I asked her about practice.”

  “I see. . . . Well, no, I don’t see.” Abigail heaved a sigh. “I’m going to ask Beth to sing Lily Ann’s part today, but I don’t want to replace her just yet.”

  “I think that’s a good idea.” Helen nodded. Elizabeth Thompson, one of the older girls, had partial hearing and seemed to stay with the melody quite well. “And Beth won’t be that disappointed if Lily Ann changes her mind.”

  Abigail smiled and glanced at the girl going up the side steps to the stage. “No, our Beth hasn’t a competitive bone in her body.”

  “Have you met the new girl, yet?”

  “Margaret? Yes, she’s going to sing before we begin the practice. I need to know where to place her.”

  At Abigail’s signal, Felicity sat at the piano. She nodded toward the wings, and Margaret walked onto the stage.

  Silence fell across the listeners as Margaret sang “Silent Night.”

  Helen listened in awe. The girl’s voice was beautiful. She glanced at Abigail, who seemed as mesmerized as Helen.

  Margaret sang the last note and stood waiting.

  “Thank you, Margaret. I’m putting you in the soprano section for now.”

  The girl smiled and walked off the stage.

  Abigail turned to Helen. “Well, if Lily Ann doesn’t sing the lead, at least I know who’ll take her place.”

  Helen caught her breath, feeling like she’d been punched in the stomach. “Oh no.” Could Margaret have had something to do with Lily Ann withdrawing? Surely not. Helen closed her eyes. She was imagining things about the new girl again.

  Abigail cast a sharp look in her direction. “What? Oh no, what?”

  Should she say something? But what if she was being overly suspicious and Margaret was innocent?

  “Nothing. I just had a thought.” She turned as Beth took her place on stage while the others lined up behind her. Today they were practicing the songs only.

  Helen couldn’t keep her glance from drifting to Margaret, who stood with the other sopranos, a look of total sweetness on her face.

  Finally, Abigail stood. “Very good. We’ll need to practice at least three times a week. So let’s plan on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays at four.”

  “Yes, Miz Quincy.” The voices chorused from off the stage.

  “But remember, if you should fall behind in your school- work, you will be out of the cantata.”

  They filed off the stage—some to do homework they’d put off, others to play outside until supper.

  Uneasiness bit at Helen as she said good-bye to Abigail and went to the parlor in search of Virgie.

  Virgie sat in her favorite wing chair, brushing Lily Ann’s hair. They both glanced up as Helen entered and sat in a rocker across from them.

  “We missed you at practice, Lily Ann.”

  Lily Ann darted a glance at Virgie, who pressed her lips together and began braiding Lily Ann’s silky brown hair. “You goin’ to answer Miz Helen?”

  Lily Ann hiccuped. “Excuse me.” She looked up beneath long lashes. “I’m not going to be in the Easter cantata.”

  Helen nodded. “Yes, Miss Abigail told me. Is anything wrong?”

  Panic seized her face, but she shook her head. “No, ma’am.”

 
; Helen glanced at Virgie, who gave a shake of her head. Helen nodded. They’d talk later.

  After supper, Helen made a beeline for the parlor where she found Virgie waiting for her.

  “All right. What’s going on?”

  Virgie sighed. “I wish I knew. Something’s got that little gal spooked.”

  “But she wouldn’t tell you anything?”

  “Not with words, she didn’t.” Pain crossed Virgie’s thin brown face. “But something’s bothering our Lily girl. So what are we going to do about it?”

  Darkness enshrouded Helen’s thoughts as anger rose like a thundercloud in her heart. Why would anyone wish to cause that precious child pain?

  Helen jumped up. “I’m not sure what’s going on, but I have a pretty good idea who might be behind it.” Her fingers balled into fists.

  Virgie stood and stepped over to her, worry filling her faded brown eyes. “Miz Helen, honey, don’t let sin get aholt of you, now. Lift Lily Ann and whatever’s in your mind up to the Lord. He love that little angel more than we do.” She placed both hands on Helen’s shoulders and gave her a gentle shake. “And if someone’s causing her grief, well, the Lord love them, too. And He knows how to make it all come out right.”

  Helen bit her lip and nodded. “Thank you, Virgie. I’m sure you’re right. I think I need to go upstairs and try to calm down.

  Calm, however, was the last thing Helen felt as she paced her room. She was almost certain Molly and Trudy knew what was going on, and she was tempted to charge into their room and demand they tell her. But something held her back, and she was pretty sure it was God. She knew in her heart Virgie was right, but so far Helen had been unable to calm the turmoil inside her.

  She dropped into the rocking chair and put her face in her hands. “Lord, forgive me for this uncontrolled anger. Please calm me down and show me what You want me to do.”

  At first, she sensed no change, but gradually, as she stayed in God’s presence, peace like a warm cloak fell upon her. She breathed in a deep, welcome breath of surrender and let it flow back out through her lips.

  ❧

  While her class studied their history chapter, Helen looked over papers the children had turned in at the beginning of class.