Fireflies and Magnolias

by Ava Miles

  She gave him a sharp glance. “Has Mama said anything?”

  “No, but—” he said, letting an audible pause follow the word before he continued, “—there’s been some chatter. It’s not like you to leave before fellowship.”

  A band of iron coiled around her diaphragm. “I’m so tired of people coming up to me and saying things like ‘Tick, tock, tick, tock, Susannah. You’re thirty now. Time to start spending less energy on your career and look for a man. God helps those who help themselves.’ Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah.”

  He sighed. “You know age doesn’t matter when it comes to the heart. God will bring the right man when it’s time.”

  Her head knew it. Her heart was getting frustrated. “Then why do I feel like everyone keeps pressuring me? Or making me feel bad for not having someone already? Don’t they know that sometimes I wonder why I’m alone too?”

  “Hey, now,” he said softly, then stopped walking and reached for her hand. “We both know the people at church mean well. They just want the best for you. How many times did they rag on me about being unmarried?”

  Her brother could be so dense sometimes. “But you’re a man, J.P. No one pities a man if he’s single and childless at thirty. No one says, ‘Oh, you’re too picky, honey. You’re not looking enough with your heart.’”

  “That heart stuff is horse shit, Susannah, and you know it. No one has a more open heart than you do. As for you being picky? Good for you if you are. I don’t want you settling down with someone you aren’t completely crazy about. You need that when you’re cleaning up the kitchen together after a long day. Trust me. I may not be married—yet—but I know that much.”

  His righteous anger on her behalf heartened her. “I don’t see you refuting what I said about it being different for men.”

  He snorted. “Not touching that one with a ten-foot pole. Come back for fellowship, Susannah. I promise to guard you from any of the older ladies’ nasty comments or contrived introductions to their balding, overweight sons.”

  “Heavens, there have been plenty of those lately. I want to flee whenever I see one of those biddies walk up with her son just as I’m grabbing a donut. Sadie and Shelby scatter. Every. Time. Not that I can blame them.”

  He cleared his throat, and she was sure he was partially holding back his laughter. “I’ve witnessed it. None of those women have a clue about what kind of man would interest you.”

  “I’m just feeling the pressure, okay? I thought I’d be married by now. Most of my friends are starting to have families. I feel like the odd one out.”

  “And now you feel that way with me,” he said with that keen understanding of his.

  She opened her mouth to reply, but he shook his head. “We’ll make more of an effort to find time to be together, just us. I’m learning how to balance all this newness too.”

  “I love you, John Parker,” she said, using his full name because it seemed more heartfelt.

  “I love you too, Susannah.”

  They resumed their stroll, holding hands, and to temper any guilt he might have felt at her earlier statements, she asked about Tammy and the kids. From there, they delved into his work, and soon he turned his gaze to her.

  “How’s business on your end?”

  There was a red leaf in the shape of a heart on the path, and she leaned down to pick it up. Nature always had a way of mirroring one’s mood.

  “Business is great. I signed three new clients this week and am wrapping up a big decorating job with the Frelicks, who live about five miles from here. They have the most beautiful Southern mansion I’ve ever seen.”

  “I’m glad to hear you’re doing so well,” he said easily, swinging their hands. “Do you have time in your schedule to volunteer for something?”

  They’d all been volunteering since well before they could spell the word. Their mama had always taught them to give back. “Sure. What’s up?”

  “Well, as you know, Rye is doing a charity concert to raise awareness and money for domestic violence. I’d like a member of the McGuiness family to volunteer to help out.” He grabbed a snapped branch hanging at an angle over the path and threw it aside. “I would volunteer, but with Tammy…I want to see how she handles it. It strikes a mighty personal chord, however happy she is that he’s doing it.”

  Every time she thought of what Tammy had gone through at the hands of her ex-husband, Susannah wanted to kick him in the nuts. Repeatedly. “I’d be happy to help in any way I can. But why not ask Sadie and Shelby too?”

  His mouth twisted. “Don’t tell them I said this, but Rye and I talked about it. We thought you would be less likely to go gaga over Jake Lassiter. You’ll see him some in the lead-up to the concert. You know Sadie and Shelby.”

  Yes, she did. Trouble with a capital T. “They probably wouldn’t pester him. Much.”

  “Or ogle him. Much.” J.P. laughed. “You know how they were when I had him over to celebrate Tammy’s gardening business. They couldn’t stop giggling, so I made sure not to introduce them to him. Y’all were clustered together, which meant you didn’t meet him either.”

  “Ah…” She had wondered why her brother hadn’t introduced them to one of his favorite clients.

  The songs J.P. wrote for Jake—and sometimes with him—were what her brother called the soul kind. As a veteran, Jake wasn’t just a sexy cowboy singing about women and beer, not that those songs weren’t cute on a sunny day. The material Jake put to music talked about leaving the woman he loved behind, fighting against terrible odds in foreign places, and missing the things left at home. More than once, his songs had brought tears to her eyes, not unlike the kind her mama inspired with her sermons.

  “You’re more level-headed, Susannah.”

  Level-headed sounded boring, but he was right. She wasn’t impressed with stardom. Sure, she respected Jake’s success, but it didn’t mean he was better than everyone else. That’s why she dealt with her wealthy and powerful clients so well. They didn’t want a decorator who fawned all over them like some adoring fan. Well, most of them didn’t. She didn’t take the other jobs.

  “You know they’ll be upset,” she told him as the path veered right, the trees blocking out the sunlight overhead.

  “I’ll handle them when they arrive. Trust me.”

  He was good at handling their more excitable sisters—their hormones, their emotions. Always had been. Her brother was pretty level-headed too.

  “You’d better.” She stepped around a puddle of mud to save her shoes, and he tugged on her hand like he was planning to unbalance her. “Don’t you dare.”

  His laughter made a flock of robins scatter from a nearby tree. “Spoilsport. Okay, I’ll tell Rye you’re in when he arrives for dinner. Oh, and Amelia Ann is taking an important role in the planning, so you two can chat about it later. She has some really great ideas for how to make the concert special. I think you’ll enjoy working with her.”

  “I like her. She’s wise beyond her years.”

  Even though she’d only known Amelia Ann for a short time, they had what Susannah could only describe as a soul connection. They’d become fast friends, but Sunday dinners were their big catch-up time due to their busy schedules.

  “In some ways. Tammy’s glad they’ve become so close. It wasn’t always so.”

  “Life has a way of changing for the good,” she said, plucking a gold leaf touched with fall from a nearby tree.

  “Yes, it rightly does,” he answered as they broke through the line of trees.

  Dare River came into view. The majesty of the rushing water never failed to intoxicate her, and the sparkling expanse looked like it was covered with a shimmer of stardust. As kids, they’d often swim in the river with their mama watching from the riverbank. She’d gotten sunburned from staying out in the water for too long, and she’d had her first kiss by the water from a local boy who was now married with three kids.

  Not that she’d wanted him long-term. No man had compelled her to want t
o do more than date. So far.

  “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” he asked. “I never tire of coming here.”

  “I should paint it again,” she murmured, and the image of the river rushing along behind a woman in a yellow sundress carrying a red umbrella to keep out the sun flashed into her imagination.

  “I still remember that Christmas present you painted for Mama the year Dad left us.”

  Their daddy had up and left them when she was just four. She’d heard her mama crying in the dead of night the week of Christmas. Wanting to make her mama happy again, she’d pulled out her washable paints and drawn the river with all of them beside it. Big smiles on everyone’s faces. It had been the first time she’d colored or painted a picture of their family without their daddy in it, and she hadn’t painted the river since. The painting had made her mama cry, no doubt bringing up memories of all the time they’d spent along the river as a family.

  “Is this—” she gestured to the river, “—why you bought your house here?” She’d always wondered, but she’d never asked.

  He let go of her hand to lean down and pick up a rock. With the flick of his arm, he skipped it across the water four times. “Yes. This place was so special to us when we were kids. I remember Daddy taking us upriver to play in the water. I wanted to forge my own happy memories of Dare River. When Rye bought his place out here, I walked out to his slice of the river and felt a certain peace settle over me that I never felt in the city. I found my place three weeks later.”

  Her brother had the soul of a poet. She might not have the words he did to create country music songs or write a persuasive legal brief, but she had an eye for beauty. She knew how to paint or arrange things together in a way that made its own magic.

  “Do you think we’ll ever know why Daddy up and left us?”

  It wasn’t something she asked as often now, but their father’s abandonment still haunted her. The fact that she didn’t have many memories of him somehow made it worse. If her parents had argued a lot, maybe his abandonment of them would make sense. But it didn’t. It never would.

  He threw another rock, this one harder than the last. “No, I don’t. And you remember what Mama always told us growing up. The fault was with him. Not us.”

  Mama had never let them bear the shame of thinking they were at fault, and she was grateful for that. Still, it sometimes made it hard for her to trust men. If her daddy could leave, a good church-going man, then couldn’t any ol’ man?

  “We should head back to the house,” she said as a scarlet tanager streaked across the sky and landed on a decaying tree limb that had been swept ashore by the river. The fiery red was a color she loved to use in her paintings, or if her client was the adventurous type, her interior design projects. How gorgeous to see such a color in nature.

  “Yes, we’d best get back.” He turned and took her by the shoulders. “You know you can always call me, right? Just because Tammy and the kids are in my life doesn’t mean you’re any less important to me. I’m always here for you.”

  He was going to fret over what she’d said, and she was sorry for it. “I know. Things are just…different. It will take some getting used to.”

  He pulled her to him. “Different can be really good, Susannah. I hope that’s something you find out for yourself soon.”

  Under the open sky, she wanted to raise her arms to heaven and shout: Hey! Do you remember me? The one who’s been praying for a loving husband since I was sixteen? How much longer are you going to keep me waiting?

  “Me too, J.P.”

  As they walked back to the house, she spied Rory and Annabelle hiding, albeit unsuccessfully, behind a towering oak tree. They jumped out and yelled, “Boo,” and her brother placed his hand over his heart and fell to the ground, playing dead. The kids ran forward and clambered on top of him, and soon he was tickling them and giving them kisses, making them giggle. She smiled as she stood there watching them, but she felt apart from the scene.

  “Let’s get your Aunt Susannah,” her brother called out.

  The kids jumped up, Rory with his hands already stretched out, ready to tickle her. She ran slowly so they could catch her. Unlike her brother, she didn’t fall to the ground. There was no way she was going to get dirt on her clothes, but the little hands digging into her tummy made her laugh like a fool.

  Her brother stood to the side, watching them with a smile on his face. The shadow of a hawk flying overhead graced the path below, and she looked up to watch its majestic flight. Goose bumps broke out across her skin. This week she had purchased a painting by a local artist of a hawk flying over Dare River—the trigger for her to consider painting the river again herself.

  It was a sign. She knew it. Believed it.

  The family she’d always wanted would be hers someday.

  Hopefully soon, she thought, as she sent up another prayer.

  Chapter 4

  The September sun was waning, and the fall colors of yellow, red, and orange swirled through the oaks and maples as Amelia Ann parked her sporty BMW behind the row of cars lining J.P. McGuiness’ driveway. J.P.’s sisters were nestled together on the front porch drinking white wine and chatting away as she climbed the steps. Like their brother, they all had curly brown hair of various lengths and dimples dotting their cheeks.

  “Hey, y’all,” she called out.

  Sitting in matching white rocking chairs on the front porch, Susannah, Shelby, and Sadie greeted her with the charming smiles they were so known for around their mama’s church—a church she stole away to every Sunday no matter how much work needed doing. Frowning was impossible around these women. Ranging from twenty-seven to thirty, they were a little older than she was, but the age difference never seemed to matter.

  “Hey, Amelia Ann,” Susannah said, rising to give her a warm hug.

  The other sisters followed suit, embracing her like an old friend, and as always, Amelia Ann immediately felt the ease of being in their presence. The women in her hometown of Meade were not always friendly, and in the circles Amelia Ann’s mother had thrust her into there was a tendency for the women to consider one another competition for the men folk. What a treat it had been to find women she enjoyed being around outside of law school. Though a few of her classmates had become friends, some were competitive over grades and law school rankings. While those things were important to her too, she didn’t want them to dictate her relationships.

  “How’s everyone been?” she asked, setting down the bottle of wine she’d wrapped in a gold wine bag topped with a wide-brimmed navy bow shot with white thread.

  According to Mrs. Augusta, the skill of making a proper bow was almost as important as dancing elegantly at cotillion. Amelia Ann didn’t mind using that particular skill for preparing a good hostess gift. Just because she was going to be a lawyer didn’t mean she couldn’t also be a lady.

  “Susannah has big news!” Shelby burst out. “Of course we won’t talk about why we weren’t chosen by our dear ol’ brother.”

  Charleston, J.P.’s red Irish setter, gave a yawn from his sprawl beside the porch railing.

  “Shelby,” Sadie chided. “Amelia Ann’s just arrived. Let her grab a drink before you spill our sister’s news. Not our news.”

  Apparently these two had their knickers in a wad over something. “What happened?” she asked.

  “Would you two stop whining? You can take all your complaints to J.P.” Susannah returned to her white rocking chair and arranged her skirt over her knees. “Ignore them.”

  “Oh, poo,” Shelby said. “I’ll whine if I want to.”

  “Someone clearly needs more wine,” Susannah said with a veiled glance. “I hope he won’t mind me telling you since these two have already spilled the beans, but J.P. asked me to represent the family by volunteering to help with Rye’s concert. I know you’ve taken on a role, so I hope that’s okay with you. J.P.’s already told Rye.”

  Part of her hoped she wouldn’t raise the sisters’ ire with her res
ponse. “Rye talked to me about asking you, and I’m so happy you can help. Maybe you can do something artistic. We’ll have to brainstorm.”

  “Y’all get to see Jake Lassiter,” Shelby pouted as predicted, crossing her arms over her chest. “J.P. didn’t say it, but he thinks Sadie and I are going to attack him like wild dogs or something.”

  “You did giggle like school girls and call him sex-on-a-stick when he was at J.P.’s party for Tammy,” Susannah said, rocking briskly. “Little bird told me that could have something to do with it.”

  “Shh… Do you want Mama to hear?” Shelby asked, peering around like a little kid afraid of getting caught doing something naughty.

  “You’re too old for her to wash your mouth out with soap,” her older sister said.

  Sadie grimaced. “Mama didn’t do it often, but when she did, she used bar soap. Said it would give us longer to ponder our actions because it would get stuck in our teeth. Yuck. I’ve never gagged so much in my whole life. I still can’t smell a bar of industrial soap without my gag reflex kicking in.”

  “That sounds awful,” Amelia Ann said with a grimace. Her own mama had preferred to deliver punishments through condescending stares and cold disapproval. Never before had she been grateful for that.

  “It was,” Shelby said, putting a hand on Amelia Ann’s arm like the conspirator she was. “Now, tell me. Do you have the hots for Jake Lassiter?”

  “Here we go,” Susannah moaned.

  “He’s really hot, but he’s not my type.” Her response had Shelby and Sadie’s mouths dropping wide open.

  “How is that even possible?” Sadie breathed out.

  “John Parker’s already written three songs for him,” Shelby burst out. “And Tammy is going to do his landscaping.”

  “You shouldn’t brag, Shelby,” Sadie cautioned.

  Shelby rolled her eyes. “Oh, poo. You sound like an old hen when you say that. What’s not to celebrate? That’s what Mama calls heaven-sent abundance. Perhaps Tammy will need some help gardening.”

  “J.P. will see through you lickety-split-like,” Susannah said, still rocking.