She would have sworn Spot liked wearing the thin argyle sweater.
“You gave her to me to foster. I think the outfit is good for her.”
Meredith smoothed a hand over the dog’s soft fur. “She’s already lost weight.”
“She’ll be ready to be adopted in no time,” Avery said, then touched her chest when it clenched painfully.
Meredith and Carrie shared a look.
“I’m not keeping the dog,” Avery said, ignoring the way Spot glanced up as if Avery had hurt her feelings.
“How do you feel about bunnies?” Meredith asked.
Avery shook her head. “Like I’ve already got enough poop in my life.”
A knock at the window had all three women turning. An older man smiled at Carrie and held up his hand, fingers spread out.
“The parade is five minutes out,” Carrie reported, her voice suddenly tight. “I asked Gene to keep me updated.”
“So this is really happening,” Meredith said quietly. “I’ve been to the Summer Fair Parade every year of my life, and now it feels like we’re the spectacle.”
“Is your dad going to be here?” Carrie asked, crossing her arms over her chest.
Meredith shook her head. “He went to his hunting cabin near Asheville. It was bad enough that he knew the truth for so many years and had to keep up appearances in town. The fact that everyone knows that my mom cheated on him is scraping at an old wound.”
“What do Erik and Theo think about all this?” Carrie glanced toward Avery. “Those are Meredith’s brothers.”
“Erik wants Dad to move down to Charleston. He says it will be easier to leave the past behind if he gets out of Magnolia.” She gave a soft, humorless laugh. “I’m sure he doesn’t mean that Dad should leave me behind but...”
“It’s not your fault,” Carrie said. “The thing that we have to remember is we aren’t to blame for this situation.”
“But some of us are a living reminder of being hurt,” Meredith countered.
Avery stepped closer to her youngest sister, feeling a strangely reassuring kinship at their shared feelings of being outsiders. “We’re going to be the center of attention around here today.”
“This sucks,” Meredith whispered.
“That pretty much sums it up.” Avery ran a hand through her hair, wishing she had a hair tie to hold it back. She typically wore it in a tight ponytail at work, when she wanted to be taken seriously. How would the people in Magnolia react to her? She’d met plenty of them since she’d arrived, but today was different. An image of Gray’s gentle green eyes flitted through her mind. Would he be there today? He’d mentioned something about a fire truck in the parade. It was silly to take comfort in the presence of a man she barely knew, but she couldn’t seem to ignore the spark that flamed to life when they were together.
“Everyone has known about the three of us for a few weeks now. People know Meredith and they’ve seen Avery around town.” Carrie’s smile was purposefully bright. “Maybe it won’t be as bad as we think.”
Meredith snorted but when she would have argued, Carrie held up a hand. “Or maybe we walk out there with our heads held high,” she continued. “And screw anyone who wants to judge us for the mistakes Dad made.”
“I like the sound of that,” Avery said with a choked laugh. Just when she thought she had Carrie pegged as the dutiful daughter, willfully blind to the sins of their father, the other woman surprised her.
“I can deal with giving the one-finger salute to the Nosy Nellies around here,” Meredith said, holding up a middle finger toward the bank of windows along the front of the gallery.
Carrie quickly stepped in front of the smaller woman. “It’s a metaphorical salute,” she said. “Remember, this is still your home.”
Meredith turned to Avery. “Are you interested in actually flashing that manicured middle finger at the town today?”
“Hmm...” Avery tapped her chin as if considering the question. “Not today. But thanks for offering.”
“Chicken,” Meredith mumbled under her breath.
“It’s a farm theme to make my cow dog feel more secure.” She picked up Spot and straightened the animal’s sweater. “It’s all about her socialization.”
Carrie and Meredith both burst out laughing, and that was how they walked out of the gallery. The three of them laughed and smiled as if they were in on the kind of private joke only sisters could share.
CHAPTER NINE
WITHIN FIVE MINUTES, Avery craved a hot bath, a stiff drink and a pound of chocolate in equal measure. Not that anyone watching would have guessed at her anxiety. She’d always been a master at keeping her feelings hidden. Even when Tony’s wife had been hurling insults at her in the lobby of her office and Avery had felt as though she was dying of humiliation and shame on the inside, she’d managed to remain outwardly calm.
Mayor Malcolm had insisted the three of them join him on the podium, where he’d honor Niall Reed as part of his opening remarks for Summer Fair. That meant they were at once part of the action and somewhat removed from the throng of people who’d gathered at the center of town.
“Take a flippin’ breath and try to smile,” Meredith muttered, nudging Avery’s shoulder. “This is a small-town parade, not the prelude to a firing squad.”
“I’m breathing,” Avery countered, the fact that she wasn’t fooling her half sister disconcerting. “It’s part of the automatic nervous system. People breathe without conscious effort.”
Carrie placed a gentle hand on Avery’s arm. “You could try to enjoy the morning.”
“Are you having fun?” Avery looked around at the crowd, many of whom alternated between watching the parade action and studying the sisters. Avery felt a sudden kinship with the goldfish who’d been her third-grade class pet. They were on display with nowhere to hide.
“Summer Fair weekend was one of my favorites growing up,” Carrie answered.
“She and Niall used to ride on one of the convertibles,” Meredith explained, “like the royal family waving to their subjects.”
“You were part of it, too.” Carrie looked around Avery to shoot Meredith an abrupt glare. “I remember your 4-H group on your horses. You were always laughing and having fun while I was stuck with the adults.”
“You loved the attention.” Meredith’s tone was at once accusatory and doubtful, like she wasn’t sure if her recollection could be trusted.
“I wanted friends,” Carrie said simply.
Before either Meredith or Avery could answer, one of the town council members leaned forward. “It isn’t the same without your father,” she said, managing to focus on Carrie while she ignored Avery and Meredith. “He was the heart of this town.”
Avery felt the shift in Carrie, as if the words had landed like a blow. She still couldn’t understand the intricacies of Carrie’s complicated relationship with their father but was coming to believe that her own feelings of bitterness and Meredith’s anger might be the easier emotions to unravel.
“The community is the heart of this town,” Avery answered, earning a subtle glare from the aging Southern belle. “I’m an outsider and even I can tell that Magnolia doesn’t need to rely on one person to keep it vibrant. It’s probably time you realize that, as well.”
A chorus of gasps from around the covered platform greeted her words, as if she’d made some blasphemous outburst. She and her two sisters stood there, living proof of Niall’s fallibility as a man and still she was subject to the subtle canonization of his character in this town.
“Outsider, indeed,” the woman mumbled.
“Well said,” Malcolm told Avery with a wink before turning to the woman. “Not another word, Karen. Watch the parade. Here comes the high school marching band. Their take on the Black Eyed Peas is the bomb.”
“Breathe,” Meredith whispered and Avery gave a
soft laugh.
“Thanks for the reminder.”
Carrie linked her arm with Avery’s. “Thanks for the quick comeback with Karen. She had a thing for Dad back in the day.”
Avery took a cue from Carrie and linked her arm with Meredith’s. They might have plenty of differences among themselves, but in front of the town, solidarity with her sisters gave her a measure of comfort and courage she couldn’t explain.
Following the mayor’s order, she focused her attention on the parade. She’d watched plenty of them on television as a kid, but this was the first she’d seen in person. Of course, it didn’t have the grandeur of the giant pop-culture characters bobbing along crowded city streets, but she couldn’t deny the enthusiasm of the participants.
She hummed along with the high school band, waved to a cluster of marching veterans and clapped for a multitude of floats. A large group of dancers from Josie’s School of Dance went by, twirling and leaping their hearts out, but she didn’t see Violet among the girls. Strange because this seemed like the kind of event Gray’s daughter would have loved. Spot lifted her head for a brief moment to sniff the air when the first group of horses clip-clopped by.
“She probably wants to eat the road apples,” Meredith said with an eye roll.
“What are road apples?” Avery asked, then groaned. “Eww.” She made a face at the dog, who’d tossed a baleful look over her shoulder. “She eats poop?”
“Horse poop,” Meredith confirmed. “Lots of dogs do.”
“That’s disgusting.”
“Horse poop is filled with enzymes and partially digested proteins,” Meredith explained. “In the grand scheme of things—”
“Save the equine husbandry lesson for later, ladies,” Carrie interrupted.
For some reason, the quiet rebuke sparked a fit of giggles in Avery. She’d gone from the big city to a local parade, jamming to a high school band’s blaring trumpet section while debating the merits of horse poop. Meredith must have understood the absurdity of the moment because she joined in the laughter, and even Carrie flashed a reluctant smile as she shook her head.
“We’re going to get in trouble,” Carrie told them in a hushed tone.
“We’re grown women,” Avery argued but made certain not to meet the disapproving stares of the town council members. Still grinning, she refocused her attention on the parade, her gaze drawn to a pair of amused green eyes.
A slow shiver rolled down her spine as she took in Gray Atwell perched on the running board of a long hook and ladder truck. He wore his dress uniform, the blue button-down shirt stretched taut across his broad chest. Her body reacted the same way it had the first time she’d seen him, only somehow it was amplified by the crowd, the other firefighters surrounding him and—God help her—the massive red truck. More laughter bubbled up in her throat and she worked to swallow it back.
“Talk about a five-alarm blaze,” Meredith said under her breath.
Carrie sighed and leaned closer. “I wouldn’t mind being hosed down by one of them.”
Avery felt her mouth drop open as she shifted her gaze between her two sisters. “You have dirty minds,” she told them before finding Gray again. He was still looking at her, one thick brow arched in question.
No way would she ever share her thoughts on this with him.
Then the fire truck had rolled past and a group of pint-sized cyclists came into view before them.
Meredith whistled softly. “Gray Atwell? That was quick work, Avs.”
“I told you, don’t call me Avs.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “There’s nothing between Gray and me. I’m staying in Carrie’s apartment, so he’s my landlord.”
“You make it sound kinky,” Meredith told her.
Avery felt color flood her cheeks. Plenty of her thoughts about Gray could be filed in the “kinky” folder, but she wasn’t about to admit it.
“Enough.” Carrie was back to sounding like a schoolteacher disciplining her wayward students. “The parade is ending. It’s time for the speech.”
“Remind me why we didn’t drink before this,” Avery said.
“Because Meredith is a loose cannon stone-cold sober,” Carrie answered immediately. “It’s game over when she’s drinking.”
“I can control myself,” Meredith argued, reaching around Avery to flick Carrie hard on the temple.
“Ow.” Carrie pressed two fingers to the side of her head.
Malcolm turned to the three of them. “Ladies.”
They straightened and fell silent.
Avery tried not to fidget under the weight of the stares they received from the crowed. It had been bad enough when the attention was divided between them and the parade, but now they seemed to be the only thing anyone could look at. The mayor began to speak, but apparently most people felt as though they could listen to Malcolm Grimes while their attention remained on Avery, Carrie and Meredith.
She wished she’d worn something else, an outfit that would have allowed her to blend in more. It had been easy to feel brave and confident, ready to thumb her nose at the rising crest of small-town judgment when she’d been alone in the carriage house this morning. Now she simply wanted to disappear.
These people knew Carrie and Meredith, so while her sisters were also on display, Avery couldn’t help but feel as though she warranted the most interest. It reminded her of those terrible weeks between losing her job and leaving San Francisco. She’d had to return to the office to meet with Human Resources after Tony’s wife had outed her publicly for the affair. Of course, no one cared about Avery’s side of the story or the lies she’d been told by the man she thought she loved. Her coworkers, the people she thought were her friends, had risen from their cubicles and come out of individual offices to line the hall, glaring at her as she walked to the office of the HR manager.
She hadn’t even questioned why the woman didn’t put a stop to the outward display of hostility. Avery wore her guilt like a hair shirt, willing to take any anger and animosity directed her way if it could possibly begin to make amends for the mistakes she’d made.
But she hadn’t done anything wrong in Magnolia. No part of this situation was her doing. Of course, she understood the locals must hate her for what she represented. Her desire to sell Niall’s properties probably didn’t cast her in a positive light, either. What else could they expect from her?
“It’s curiosity,” Carrie said, her lips barely moving. “Keep smiling.”
Avery wasn’t sure whether to be amused or annoyed by the way her sisters, who were still virtual strangers, seemed to be able to read her thoughts so easily. But she took the advice to heart and kept a smile on her face as she listened to Malcolm give an overview of the history of Summer Fair and then transition to memorializing Niall Reed.
To her surprise, the mayor offered a realistic portrayal of the man who’d been her father, covering both his contributions to the town and the challenges Niall had faced in both his professional and personal life. She could almost see the expressions on the faces of people in the crowd soften as Malcolm gave a high-level account of the predicament Carrie, Meredith and Avery had been thrust into because of the stipulations in Niall’s will.
Although she didn’t like having her private business on display for public consumption, it was necessary in a town like Magnolia for the community to understand the facts about the situation. Without that, speculation and rumors would run rampant. Avery had already been down that path. The worst of it—the thing that had almost broken her—was the gossip that she’d had a hand in Tony’s son being injured. That she’d been involved in the car accident or had caused it in some way. Of course it was ridiculous, but even though she knew that in her heart, the fact that people could believe her capable of something so heinous cut her to the core.
She might not want to be Magnolia’s savior, but she also wasn’t keen to tak
e up the mantle of villain for this close-knit community.
While the mayor’s speech only lasted a few minutes, it felt like she was on display for hours. Finally he ended with a call to enjoy the weekend’s festivities and to remember that Magnolia would continue to be a strong, vital community going forward. He was certain Niall’s daughters would help solidify their father’s legacy and dedication to the town.
“Not to put us on the spot or anything,” Avery said into Mayor Grimes’s ear when the man gave each of the sisters a hug.
“I play to win,” he said with an face-splitting grin. “One of these days I’ll tell you all about my illustrious football career back at UNC.”
She rolled her eyes. “I’m breathless with anticipation.”
The mayor threw back his head and guffawed. “I like you, Avery Reed.”
“Avery Keller,” she clarified.
“Uh-huh,” he agreed before moving into the crowd.
“Pitting out over here.” Meredith held her arms aloft and fanned herself. “I hate being on display.”
“Why did we agree to that again?” Avery asked.
Carrie surveyed the crowd. “It was a show of strength. They’re watching, waiting for one of us to crack.”
Avery followed the other woman’s gaze. Several people shot surreptitious glances in her direction. “You make it sound like a horror movie. Like we’ve got zombies waiting to ambush us.”
“Worse,” Carrie said. “Small-town gossips.”
“We’re all over the Magnolia Musings Instagram account.”
“Did you see the front page of the Blossom?” Carrie turned toward them.
Avery shook her head. “What’s the Blossom?”
“The weekly newspaper,” Meredith explained.
“It’s published on Fridays, and we were the headline.”
“Excuse me?” Avery tried to wrap her mind around this new information. “How are we the headline?”
“A profile on each of us,” Carrie said. “I didn’t mention it earlier because I thought you’d freak out.”
The Magnolia Sisters Page 10