by Zara Teleg
“Well, hello, beautiful girl.” He held out his hand.
“Paw-paw, this is Magnolia Grace.” I beamed proudly. He took her hand and kissed it.
“Pleased to meet you.” She held the bag out to him as he inhaled deeply.
“Is that what I think it is?” Paw-paw held the door open.
“Catfish fry with hush puppies and spicy okra.”
“We would’ve gotten here earlier, but I begged Vincent to stop at this old church we passed.”
“Church?” he asked, almost intrigued. “Hmm, so you a church-going girl, are ya?” He took the bag from Maggie’s hands.
“Born and raised Catholic.” She bowed her head.
“You like old churches?”
“I do. I’d always visited different ones whenever we went on vacation to places I’d never been. I mean, there’s so much history in them. Some people’s happiest celebrations and saddest moments of grieving all take place between those walls.”
“Son, you should take her on a road trip to the Madonna Chapel. It’s less than two hours from here. They only have a mass on the Assumption, August 15, but it’s surely a Louisiana site to see.”
Magnolia’s eyes widened. “Really? August 15? That’s my birthday. My father wanted to name me Mary to honor the day, but my mother chose Magnolia.” She tucked her hair behind her ear.
My wheels began to turn at the idea of making her birthday a perfect day. But an ache stabbed me in my chest as I remembered that we would only have a week after that before our summer would end and Maggie would leave for college.
“Is this you?” Maggie picked up a wooden frame off the top of the thin fireplace mantle. I took the picture from her hand. I hadn’t seen this in years. It was of my brothers and me on our bicycles, wearing jean jackets with patches that said “Future Kings.”
“Yeah, me, Viper, and Vicious. We thought we were the shit. We rode our bikes all over town, making trouble. Our mother used to get so many calls.” I laughed, putting it back.
My father had nothing sentimental. After our mother left, he kept nothing out. I did find a picture of her once in his office drawer. She was under a tree along the bayou wearing a long dress with the sun shining on her and her big pregnant belly.
“Have you eaten dinner?” Maggie picked up the bag.” I’d love to fix you a plate,” she told Paw-paw.
“Now it does not seem right eatin’ in front of you.”
“Oh, please, let me fix your plate.”
We took the food into the kitchen. It wasn’t hard for Maggie to find anything in his open kitchen. All his plates, cups, and glasses sat on open shelving hand-carved from wood with shellacked rough edges from the bark. Maggie ran her fingers over the edge before picking up plates and glasses and setting the table as Paw-paw sat at the tiny two-person table.
“The shelves are beautiful. You made them?” Maggie walked around, looking at everything as he dug into the food.
“Yes, I have been woodworking since I was a young boy.”
“I have seen your grandson’s work. You’d be proud.”
“Maggie—” I started.
“You still whittle?” Paw-paw asked, putting down his fork.
I rubbed the back of my neck and leaned in the doorjamb. “Here and there.”
He nodded slightly. “Well, I can’t eat another bite.” He rubbed his belly and began to clear his dish, but Maggie swept in before he could.
“Why don’t I clean this up so you two can catch up?”
“You got a good one here, Vincent.” He grabbed a toothpick. “Let’s walk out to my shop.”
“Maggie, we’ll be back in a few minutes. Now make yourself at home. I have some coffee there.” He pointed to the rolled-up bag on the shelf. “If you want to make some, the pot is on the stove.” He pulled two beers from the refrigerator and ushered me out toward his workshop.
There were carved pieces in various stages of completion. The barn workshop was adorned by wood-carved owls, two-feet tall and lifelike, in the final stages of paint.
“These are so real.” I was always in awe of his work.
He pulled his knife from his pocket, making a niche in one spot of the owl before he pointed to the chair for me to sit. “I knew this visit would come. I just didn’t know who he would send.” Sitting in the other chair, he ran the tip of the knife under his nail.
I inhaled deeply, “How did you…?”
“Vincent, you didn’t think in a small area like this, I wouldn’t hear about Voodoo’s land acquisitions?”
My mouth felt like I just ate cotton. It crushed me that he thought that was the only reason I came to see him.
He straightened and then pulled a box from under his chair and moved a stump between us and placed on it a hand-carved, stained chessboard. “You still remember how to play?” he asked, opening the box.
“Of course.” I reached in the box, pulling out the magnificently detailed queen. Rolling it between my fingers, I could appreciate the hours that had gone into creating each piece. Light and dark stains separated the two sets. Setting each one on its appropriate block, he offered me white, so I would make the first move.
“So go on, tell me Voodoo’s offer.”
“Well, you obviously know the properties he has acquired, and yours is one of the last he needs. It would make the whole project come together.” I watched his face scrunch as he made his next move, intentionally letting me capture his pawn.
“Why does he think I would even consider his proposal?” He rubbed the whiskers on his chin before his knight moved in its L shape, not giving my rook an escape. He grinned as he captured my rook and moved it to the side.
“You’re getting older. You really want to take care of all this acreage?” I looked out the horizon across nothing but the sun-soaked Louisiana landscape.
“You know how many potential buyers have been down this road?” He pointed to the Private Property, Keep Out signs that were on the driveway. He tilted his beer back, taking a sip.
“Come on, Paw-paw, you cannot hold a grudge forever. You’ve always wanted him to run a cleaner club. These properties could do that.”
He began to laugh, slapping his knee. “Your father wouldn’t know how to run a clean club. He’s as crooked as the day is long. You’re the only one who even has a piece of your mother’s heart. Doesn’t it bother you that he ran Esmeralda off? If she couldn’t get him to go straight, then no one can. He thought she made him weak. Imagine that? She was a beautiful soul. You remember much about her?”
He took the last sip of his beer, slamming down the bottle and looking at me. “He was wrong.” He pointed to my face. “She was his strength. You better be careful, or one day you’ll end up bitter, money- and power-hungry like him, and you’ll lose all you care about. You know, you look at Maggie the same way your father used to look at your mother.”
I swallowed hard, not even noticing he had checkmated me as his words rang in my ears. A whistle cut through the deafening silence. Maggie stood on the porch holding up a mug.
“We are coming, sweetheart.” He stood.
“You get him to put it in writing, and I will have my lawyer look it over.” He stood and headed to the house.
“Your lawyer?” I asked, catching up.
“I may be old, but I ain’t stupid. He’s my son, but after all this time and what I’ve seen and heard, I don’t trust him. He’s become everything he hated and wanted to change in the world.”
Maggie leaned against the rail, taking in the sun as it made its descent in the evening sky. Her stunning features were golden. Her near-white hair filtered through the orange light, making her look like a goddess in her white sundress.
“There’s that look again,” Paw-paw remarked under his breath as we climbed the steps.
Maggie wrapped her hands around her mug. “I poured both of yours. They are on the table. I didn’t want to miss the sunset. This view is breathtaking.”
“I’ll be inside. You two enjoy the
view.” Paw-paw walked back into the cabin.
It sickened me knowing he was right. How the hell was I going to leave her? Summer wasn’t going to be enough. I wrapped my arms around her, resting my chin on her shoulder. The scent of her hair was enough to make me want more. “I don’t think after this summer I will ever be able to watch the sunrise or sunset the same way again.”
Maggie set down her cup on the ledge and placed her warm hands over mine. “I know,” she whispered, leaning her head on mine.
The crickets were singing as we walked into the darkening night.
“I’ll see you with those papers soon, I expect.” Paw-paw had walked us out to the truck. “I hope you bring this beautiful angel out with you again.”
Maggie gave him a generous hug and peck on the cheek that made the old man blush even in the dark.
I reached out my hand, shaking his. “I’ll be back soon.”
Chapter 13
Magnolia
Our Friday night date was better than I had expected. I loved seeing Vincent with his grandad. He seemed so relaxed around him, and it was obvious his grandad was beyond happy to see him.
I wrote the last words in my journal before praying. I ended my prayers the same way over the past few weeks, begging for the strength to make the right decisions. I blessed myself, kissing the rosary that I clutched in my hands.
Shannon had already left for a fishing weekend at a nearby park with others. I rose from my knees and felt the immediate guilt of knowing that the moment I was around Vincent, all my resolve melted away. Luckily not today. I made it back to the cabin and got ready for the overnight trip to St. Genevieve.
I swept my bag off my bed and hurried to the cafeteria hall to meet Catherine and Paul.
“Good morning, Maggie Grace. I’ll take that.” Paul reached out and grabbed my bag, tucking it into his trunk.
Two beeps behind me made me jump. I turned to see an ancient-looking Jeep that was higher off the ground than average and with no roof or doors. Alcide’s brown hair was messy from the wind, and his smile was wide as he patted the seat next to his.
“Maggie, hop on in. I didn’t know I’d have her running for this weekend, but the garage called with the part it needed, and she’s good to go.” Alcide stroked the steering wheel like he was petting a cat.
“Um, is that safe?” My eyes roamed over the camouflage-covered vintage vehicle that looked more like it belonged on an Army base in the seventies.
“Of course! C’mon, it will be fun. I hope you don’t mind getting a ride back with Paul and Catherine tomorrow because a friend called and asked me to have dinner after the church’s talk.”
I pushed my fear aside and climbed in the loudly rumbling vehicle.
“Why does it sound this way?”
“Diesel,” he yelled over the engine as we began to pull out. “See you guys there.” Alcide waved to Paul and Catherine, who held Anabelle’s hand.
“You alright?” Alcide asked, turning down the music as he glanced at my fingers that were white-knuckling the bar.
“Uh-huh.” That was all I could squeak out. My eyes squeezed shut, and my stomach clenched, bracing myself on the bumpy road.
“Maggie.” Alcide slowed his driving. I opened one eye looking over at him.
“Sorry. I’m not that adventurous.”
Alcide started a full-on belly laugh. “No, but that’s okay. An off-road Jeep isn’t for everyone.” He looked at his watch. “We got about twenty more minutes of driving. I have been wanting to talk to you about the work I am doing with Dr. Stein. We had a conversation about you. I told him how much you have been an asset. He really wants to meet you. If he likes you, you could be offered a spot on the team next year and travel to the islands with us to do some medical work in the communities. It would be a great addition for you to have on your medical school application, and you would have fun and really make a difference.”
Alcide went on telling stories of his adventures. I got excited by the prospect of that sort of experience. But a small piece of me was also sad—I knew it was something Vincent could never be a part of. How could he have become such a part of me so fast? My mind wandered to him more than anything.
“Almost there.” He pointed to the sign that said “Welcome to St. Genevieve.” I immediately fell in love with the quaint streets and old homes that were draped in Spanish moss and painted white with ornate porches lined with hanging ferns. We came to a stop in front of one of those houses where I saw Catherine and Paul’s car. Our pitstop to the minimart must have gotten them here ahead of us.
“Maggie,” Anabelle cried as she ran through the screen door onto the porch, greeting us. She threw her arms around my waist, hugging me tightly.
“Y’all better come in before this ice melts and you have watery sweet tea,” Rose called from inside. “Magnolia, I’m so happy you came.” Even in her cooking attire, Mrs. Conti was well put together in her crisp floral apron and matching pink lipstick.
“Rose, I’m happy to help.” I set Anabelle down on the stool set at the counter with the tiny version of the same apron.
“Oh, Magnolia, now you call me Meme.” She began putting the apron on her grand daughter, who wore a huge smile. “I already picked some okra for our first batch to pickle.” She pulled a giant silver strainer from her deep sink setting it in front of us. “Well, y’all better get busy out there picking more, or we won’t be having lunch till four.”
She swatted a towel at Alcide. “You, too, handsome.” She handed Alcide a basket as he took it and his tea through the back door of the screen porch to where I could see an overflowing garden that took up a large portion of the yard.
Hours quickly passed as we laughed and sang and danced around the kitchen alternating between canning okra and eating the meal that had been prepared and tucked in the fridge ready to go.
After dinner, we all sat in the flower garden in her backyard, sipping tea. I was stuffed enough to not want to move. Alcide shared more stories of his globetrotting and made me long to be a part of that lifestyle. He had seen so many places and helped children all over the world interning with Dr. Stein. He’d been volunteering since he was my age. You could see the excitement as he spoke. Catherine and Paul told of their dream of someday going on a trip around the world to visit all the missions. Then Catherine tucked a freshly bathed Anabelle in bed.
“Good night,” a tiny voice called from the upstairs window. Ana was waving as she looked down at us.
Alcide lit the torches to keep us from getting bitten to death. The sky seemed to quickly go from sunset to nearly black with sprinkles of stars sparkling above us.
“Gosh, it’s almost midnight.” Catherine stood and stretched, then reached for Paul’s hand. “I can’t believe we talked that long.”
Much of our conversation had focused on my future and on Paul and Catherine’s desire to have another child. The two were over forty, and I couldn’t miss the desperation coming from Catherine. She’d had a hard time conceiving Ana but wanted her to have a sibling. They also made apparent their concern about my relationship with Vincent. They only saw him as some punk who was always in trouble. They thought he was a hard worker, but they were also sure to express how many opportunities I had before me.
I tried to get comfortable on the sofa that doubled as a bed on the screened porch. The bugs chirped as I replayed their words in my head. They weren’t mean, but they did not hide their disapproval of Vincent. I hugged my pillow, wishing I could wake up to Vincent following me to our spot under the tree.
A shooting star streaked across the inky sky. I believed in prayer, not wishes. But for the second time, I allowed myself to indulge in the supernatural act. I wished on that magical star that I could make the world stop, freeze in place, and let me have an endless summer with Vincent. I wanted more sunsets, more sunrise talks, more stolen kisses, more uncontrollable laughter that only he could bring out in me. I wanted to always feel the way I felt when I was with him. I squeezed
my eyes shut, recalling his scent and his gentle touch as I let the crickets lull me to sleep.
Rising with the sun, I thought I was the first one awake. I came out of the bathroom holding my toothbrush, only to run into Alcide.
“Sorry. I didn’t think anyone was up.” I kept my voice quiet.
“I hope I didn’t wake you. I like to get an early morning jog in before I start my day.”
I pointed to the ticking clock. “I’d say it’s only 5 a.m.”
“Which means it the perfect time for you to come with me to get some morning surprises before anyone else gets up.”
“Huh?” I yawned, stretching out my arms in front of me.
“C’mon, get shoes on.”
I gave him a quizzical look before doing as he asked.
“Where are we going?” We passed all the little shops along the main road he turned on.
“Only the best beignets this side of New Orleans.” His dazzling smile grew even wider.
We stopped in front of a tiny little cafe that had a line formed around the block. It was not fancy like the other shops, but it sure must have had a reputation.
“How is it this crowded, already?” We took another step closer to the entrance as a family came out, their smiles covered in powdered sugar.
“It’s Sunday. Everyone knows they sell out if you wait until after church. Lyle has been making these here for over twenty years. It’s the same every week. Even through hurricanes, he’s always open, serving his loyal customers.”
“Doc, what are you doing here?” A man behind the counter in his white shirt, pants, apron, and hat held his hands out to Alcide.
“I couldn’t come to town without stopping by now, could I?”
“Hey, everybody, if not for the good doctor here, I may not have lived to make you all another beignet!”
A round of clapping and few whistles came from the line as Lyle loaded up treats and a vat of coffee for us to take.
Alcide took a still-warm square beignet covered in powdered sugar from the large white bag. He handed it to me along with one of the coffees. My stomach growled, and my mouth began to water as I inhaled before taking the first bite into the heavenly treat.
