The Sweet Smell of Magnolias and Memories

by Celeste Fletcher McHale

  Georgia raised an eyebrow as she continued trying to cram things into the trunk of her car. “It’s a possibility,” she said. “We should’ve rented a trailer.”

  Jacey laughed. “So I went a little overboard . . .”

  “There,” Georgia said as the last of it was finally loaded. She gave Jacey the sackful of books. “You’re gonna have to hold these.”

  Jacey started scanning through them. “I hope all of these are age-appropriate.”

  “We were at a toy store, Jacey,” Georgia said. “How bad could they be?”

  “I guess you’re right. Maybe I should skim over them tonight just the same.”

  “Already acting like somebody’s mama,” Georgia muttered. “Sucking all the fun out of things.”

  “What?” Jacey said.

  “Oh, nothing,” Georgia said. “I was just saying how exhausting it is shopping for kids. I’m thirsty. Let’s get a smoothie or a shake or something.”

  “Yum,” Jacey said. “Let’s get a smoothie.”

  Jacey scanned her phone for a smoothie place, and they were already pretty close to one.

  “Drive-through or inside?” Georgia asked.

  “Inside,” Jacey said. “I need to visit the little girls’ room.”

  “Okay, I’ll order,” Georgia said. “You want the usual?”

  “Yes, and add mango.”

  When she returned from the bathroom, Georgia was already waiting for her by the door.

  “Take these,” she said, handing her the smoothies. “I have to go too. The one on the left is yours.”

  Jacey leaned against the counter and watched a mother and her three kids wrestling at a table nearby. The smallest one, a girl, was crying. She apparently didn’t want the green smoothie but the pink smoothie instead. Her big brother was sipping the pink smoothie and would stop every now and then to poke his tongue out at his sister, which only served to intensify the wailing. The oldest boy rolled his eyes and seemed embarrassed by the whole charade.

  Jacey smiled but was cracking up on the inside. How perfect and natural and normal it was to see a mother and her children doing everyday things. She had never really paid attention to it before, but now it fascinated her. The mother was juggling food, drinks, a phone call, and kids without missing a beat. Jacey was witnessing the most noble of all the jobs on earth—being somebody’s mama.

  She took a sip of her smoothie and knew as soon as it hit her tongue that she’d made a terrible mistake. The fear and histamine hit simultaneously. She’d taken a drink out of the wrong cup. Jacey dropped the drinks in her hand and grabbed her throat. It was already happening. Her airway was closing. She was wheezing and could feel her tongue beginning to thicken. Her mind raced to recall that her EpiPen was all the way back at the hotel.

  Georgia walked out of the bathroom, saw her, and quickly sprung into action.

  “Where’s the nearest hospital?” she shouted as people began to stare. “Where is it?”

  Someone behind the counter said, “Two blocks over,” and pointed to the right. “Can we do something? Call an ambulance?”

  “Does anyone have an EpiPen?” Georgia asked, putting Jacey’s shoulder around her. “Hang on, hang on, girl. It’s gonna be okay.”

  No one in the smoothie shop had an allergy pen, but they swarmed Jacey and Georgia to offer help. The boy behind the counter jumped over it and scooped Jacey up in his arms. “Where to?” he asked.

  Georgia pointed at the Corvette. “Put her inside,” she said. “What street do I use?”

  “Go straight on this street. It’s the fastest, but it’s a one-way. The entrance to the ER is right there. Two blocks.”

  “Thank you,” Georgia said, speeding off.

  Jacey grabbed for Georgia’s hand. She was scared to death but trying to remain calm. The wheezing had become even more intense, and she struggled for every breath.

  “We’re almost there,” Georgia said. “So close, it’ll be okay. Hang on. It’s gonna be okay.”

  Jacey tried to concentrate on Georgia’s words and not give in to fear. But it was getting more and more difficult to find air. The wheezing turned to grasping at nothing because there wasn’t much getting through. She was barely aware of Georgia screaming at traffic and bobbing and weaving through the cars on the street. She heard horns and sirens in the background.

  “Almost,” Georgia said. “Hang on, almost . . .”

  The last thing Jacey remembered was Georgia slamming the car into park and screaming, “Get a gurney and an epinephrine injection! She’s in anaphylactic shock! Strawberries!”

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Jacey slowly opened her eyes and looked around, wondering where she was. Then she groaned. Strawberries. Hospital.

  “Hello,” Georgia said.

  Jacey turned to her side to see Georgia sitting in a chair beside her bed.

  “See this?” Georgia held up an injector pen. “This is called an EpiPen. People who are allergic to certain things find that having one on their person at all times is very useful. It also keeps the cops from chasing their best friend through the streets of Biloxi.”

  Jacey tried a half smile but felt like she’d been run over by a truck. “Sorry.”

  “I’m gonna let you slide this time since the officer was kind enough not to write me a ticket,” Georgia said. “But if you hadn’t been almost dying in my car, I would’ve surely gotten one.” She paused. “Have you lost your mind? Why don’t you keep the pen in your purse, Jacey? You could’ve died. You almost died. Do you understand that?”

  “I’m so sorry,” Jacey said sheepishly. “I just don’t think about it. Honestly.”

  “As a nurse, I cannot stress to you enough the importance of having this with you 24/7,” Georgia said. “And as your best friend, you scared to me death. It happened so fast I didn’t know if we were going to make it to the hospital that was only two blocks away. If it had been any farther . . .”

  “I know,” Jacey said. “I promise, from now on, I will keep it with me. Always.”

  “Why did you drink out of my smoothie in the first place?” Georgia asked. “I told you which one was yours.”

  Jacey shook her head. “I don’t know. I just wasn’t paying attention. I was watching a mother and her children and . . . daydreaming, I guess.”

  “Don’t do it again,” Georgia said.

  “I promise. And thank you so much. You saved my life.”

  Georgia waved her off. “Please,” she said. “I got to drive really fast and was chased by the cops. Even if it was only for a block and a half. It you hadn’t been beside me trying to die, it would’ve been fun.”

  Jacey laughed. “Seriously. Thank you. For everything you do.”

  Georgia shook her head. “Ditto.”

  “When can I get out of here?” Jacey asked.

  “I’m working on that now,” Georgia said. “In fact, let me go see what’s going on.”

  Georgia went down the hall to the admitting area in the ER but failed to find anyone manning the desk. She’d managed to talk Jacey’s doctor into releasing her because Georgia was an RN and assured him she could take care of her friend. She also had to promise him she’d fill the prescriptions he’d written for the auto-injectors before they left the hospital.

  She walked a little farther down the corridor looking for any signs of life. When she rounded the corner she stopped short. Fifteen feet in front of her stood Colin Jennings and the woman from the beach, embracing in the corridor of the front lobby. She quickly ducked into the alcove by the bathroom door and hid.

  “Thank you for coming, Julie,” Colin said. “You’ve been there for me more times than I can count.”

  Julie. Georgia made a mental note of her name and strained to hear the rest of the conversation.

  “I’m just glad you called,” Julie said. “And I’m glad things turned out well.”

  “I love you,” Colin said. “Be careful on your way home. I’ll call you tonight.”

  �
�I love you too. I’ll be expecting your call.”

  Georgia peeked around the corner to see if they were going to kiss, but all she saw was Colin reluctantly letting go of Julie’s hand as she walked away. Georgia ducked back into the crevice, mad as a hornet and ready to sting. But she knew Jacey would kill her if she made a scene, so she backed up against the wall and watched the woman, Julie, walking down the hall. When she disappeared she heard the unmistakable sound of cowboy boots heading in the other direction. She peeked around again and saw Colin walking back toward the main area of the hospital.

  “He’s a snake . . .”

  “Can I help you?” a male voice asked.

  Georgia turned around to see a gentleman emerging from the men’s bathroom. She was blocking his exit.

  She flashed him a brilliant smile and pointed to the sign on the door. “This isn’t the ladies room, is it?” She jogged down the hall back to the ER.

  Georgia was as mad as she’d ever been in her life. Only a woman who had been cheated on could fully appreciate what she had just witnessed. She wanted to tear Colin limb from limb, then beat what was left of him with his torn-off limbs. He’d told that girl he loved her, when a few days ago he’d basically told Jacey the same thing. What a jerk. What a lying, cheating jerk.

  She stopped suddenly when she got back to the ER waiting room. What was she going to tell Jacey? This would finish breaking her heart. Jacey didn’t know it yet, but her heart was only a little cracked and scratched. It wouldn’t be fully broken until she questioned every single thing she’d ever believed about men and relationships. Or when she wanted to sleep but was afraid she’d dream of him again if she did . . . Telling Jacey what she’d just seen would’ve been like serving her best friend some poison.

  Why was Colin here anyway? Was he visiting the hospital in an official capacity—as a pastor? What a joke that was. If Colin Jennings was a preacher, then Georgia was a ballerina. All 145 pounds of her. But he had thanked that woman for coming, so maybe someone in his family was here. She turned around and jogged back toward the hospital entrance, hoping to check with the front desk and see if she could get any answers. If it was one of those pink ladies, she’d have trouble getting any information, but she was sure she could manipulate a candy striper.

  Ah . . . a candy striper.

  “Hi,” Georgia said. “I’m trying to see if they admitted a patient here. Last name Jennings.”

  The girl scanned the computer. “Hmm,” she mused, all cheerful and happy. “I only see an Ava Jennings. Is that her?”

  “It sure is.” Georgia smiled. “Can you tell me why she’s here?”

  The candy striper looked around. “I’m not supposed to.”

  Georgia winked. “Oh, I know,” she said. “And you’re doing a great job.” Georgia whipped her nursing ID out of her purse and flashed it quickly. Too quickly for the girl to see the Baton Rouge General tag. “I’m actually an ER nurse. I was just checking to see how she was doing.” Georgia turned slowly, hoping the girl would take the bait. She did.

  “Wait,” Candy Striper said. “She had bypass surgery this morning. Poor thing. She’s only fifty-seven years old, currently in the ICU. Shall I call for you?”

  “No, I’ll check on her. But thanks so much,” Georgia said. “Have a great day.”

  So this must be Colin’s mother, Georgia decided. That’s why Colin came to Mississippi in such a hurry. And that Julie girl must’ve come to sit with Colin during the surgery. So she’d been in his life awhile . . . probably the girlfriend before he met Jacey last year. Then why did he go looking for Jacey? Maybe they had broken up but recently reconciled. Or maybe Colin was a player. Who knew? There were too many questions for her to decipher, but she still thought it best not to tell Jacey any of it just yet. She would mentally file her facts and suspicions, saving them for the day Jacey needed to know the truth about this guy. That day would come eventually.

  Georgia walked down the corridor until she reached the ER again, and this time she found somebody to talk to. After being assured Jacey would be released in a couple of hours, she went back into the room where Jacey was watching TV.

  “Where have you been?” Jacey asked.

  Georgia fiddled with the contents of her purse to avoid eye contact. “Oh, you know, she said. “Just trying to find somebody around here who could give us the green light. Tell us when we could blow this joint.”

  “Well?” Jacey asked.

  “Well, what?”

  “Can we leave?” Jacey asked.

  “Oh,” Georgia said. “Yes, well, not yet. In a couple of hours. What are you watching?” She turned her attention to the television.

  “The news,” Jacey said. “It’s the only channel I can get. I have to wonder why they would put a news channel in an emergency room. I mean, people come here when they’re having heart attacks. The news is bound to make it worse. Nobody wants to see all this. I knew there was a reason I didn’t watch the news. Just listen to some of this.” She turned the up volume.

  “No, thanks,” Georgia said. “I get all the news I want in the ER. You know I don’t watch that mess.”

  “I’m going to the bathroom,” Jacey said. “They must’ve given me a ton of fluids. She just pulled the IV out a few minutes ago.”

  “That’s what happens when you don’t keep your EpiPen with you,” Georgia said. “You remember that.”

  Jacey stuck out her tongue at Georgia. “Where’s the potty?” she asked.

  “Right outside the door to your left,” Georgia said.

  A moment after Jacey turned the corner, a picture of a lovely woman with short, stylish gray hair and a warm smile came across the TV screen. The cheerful blonde reporter on the local news channel said, “There are reports that Ava Jennings, a local philanthropist and chairperson of two Biloxi charities and board member of several more, has been hospitalized today to undergo open-heart surgery. Mrs. Jennings is the wife of Jasper Jennings, the CEO of Jennings Construction. We at WBYR wish her a speedy recovery and a heartfelt thank-you for all she has done for this station and this city.”

  Georgia dove across the bed to the remote and turned the TV off. This woman must be a huge deal around here. And Jennings Construction? Even she had seen their trucks going up and down the highways and Interstate 10. No wonder Colin had no trouble funding his life and his little building projects. This was why he hadn’t answered her when she’d grilled him. He didn’t have to work because the money was already in the bank. Georgia was both irritated and intrigued. She would Google their names later tonight at the hotel to see what else she could find out about Colin and his family.

  “Why are you in my bed?” Jacey asked when she came back in.

  “This nursing stuff is exhausting,” Georgia said. “You sit in the chair awhile and let me recover from the stress of this morning.”

  Jacey laid back in the recliner. “You know,” she said, “I’ve been thinking about Colin today.”

  Georgia’s eyebrow shot up. “You have my attention,” she said.

  “I know you said to leave it alone and put it out of my mind and all that stuff,” Jacey said. “And I am trying to—I promise I am. But I can’t help but think he is just like me. He probably just got scared. You know what I mean? Maybe it got really . . . real. It made me run away too. Maybe he just needs some time to think.”

  “No,” Georgia said. “He’s nothing like you. He didn’t need time to think.”

  “How do you know?” Jacey asked. “Maybe I should just call him and tell him it’s okay if—”

  “Do not call that son of a—” Georgia cut herself off. “Don’t call him, Jacey. It’s not cool to call a guy after he has told you he needs a break or used some other lame excuse. Leave it alone.”

  Jacey was a little surprised at Georgia’s zeal. She was really mad at Colin. “You really wanna punch him, don’t you?” Jacey said.

  “You have no idea,” Georgia answered.

  Jacey shrugged. “I’ll give
it a little more time.”

  “Yes,” Georgia agreed. “Let’s give it a little more time.”

  Jacey looked at Georgia and could tell she was really seething. Jacey had known her long enough to see that. She chalked it up to loyalty and the “cheating fiasco of 2014,” as Georgia dubbed it. She didn’t press the issue because Georgia could still be sensitive about it now and then.

  “So . . . I’m starving to death,” Jacey said. “What do you want to eat?”

  “Anything but strawberries,” Georgia said.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Colin paced back and forth in front of the window in the ICU waiting area, his head jerking up every time the door opened. They were waiting for the okay to visit his mother, but it seemed to be taking an outrageous amount of time. Patience had never been his strong suit, and today he was in short supply. He glanced at his father.

  Jasper was sitting in a chair in the corner, his hands folded in his lap. He’d stayed very quiet for most of the day. Colin wondered whether he should approach him or not, try to start a conversation. But every time he thought he could, he changed his mind. Ava had told Colin enough for him to know he’d been wrong in many ways about his dad, but reaching out seemed too raw, too unfamiliar to him. Maybe he should wait on Jasper to make the first move. Or maybe his mom would tell his father that she and Colin had talked about the truth. Surely that would propel Jasper into a conversation with him.

  But what if his mom didn’t make it? No, he couldn’t think that way. Of course she was going to make it. The surgery had gone well and she was “resting comfortably” in recovery—whatever that meant. When the surgeon had come out to tell them the surgery was successful, the relief had almost buckled his knees. Colin had been sure they were going to lose her . . . maybe because of his guilt, remorse, regret, or something. He’d been in these situations before, praying with frightened parents, children, aunts, and uncles as they waited for news about their loved ones. And he’d tried to pray all morning when she was in surgery, but his prayers seemed dull and without direction. It left him restless and agitated.