Warm Nights in Magnolia Bay

by Babette de Jongh

  Abby jumped. “Oops, I forgot all about Freddy.” And guests were beginning to stream through the gates.

  “I’ll get him,” Quinn volunteered. Abby watched him walk away, all lean grace and hard muscles under a plain T-shirt and cargo shorts. He’d come a long way since he moved next door, she realized. He still didn’t mess with the Amazons after the bite one of them gave him, but he’d made friends with Freddy the macaw. And Abby had seen him feeding his granola bar snacks to Elijah, but she hadn’t let on that she knew. That could remain their secret.

  * * *

  Reva called the afternoon of the next town hall meeting, when Abby was busy changing from one outfit to another. She’d given up on her own clothing and was now rifling through Aunt Reva’s closet.

  “Hey.” Abby put the phone on speaker and whipped off the dress she had just tried on. Cute, comfortable, colorful, but maybe a little too hippie-earth-mother for Abby.

  “I’m calling to wish you luck in the meeting tonight. I kind of wish I’d decided to come home for it, but I’m also kind of glad I didn’t. I’m learning so much every day that I do hate to miss any of it. I called Edna, and she assured me that I wouldn’t be able to do anything y’all aren’t already doing.”

  “Edna is right, as usual,” Abby agreed, hoping she wasn’t lying.

  “I called Mack, too. He says I should trust the process, so that’s exactly what I plan to do, hard as it may be.”

  “I know it’s hard.” It was hard for Abby, too. She tried not to think about it too much. “How’s class going?”

  “You won’t believe the cool stuff I got to do…” Reva launched into a detailed account of the classes she’d had that week.

  Georgia watched from the bed as Abby pulled another dress off the hanger and slipped it on over her head. Quinn was working in New Orleans today, but would be here to pick her up in less than an hour. But nothing she tried on looked right. How was it that some days, everything she tried on looked hideous, even the same clothes that usually looked just fine?

  Conversation wasn’t required beyond a few well-placed exclamations of surprise and appreciation. Abby turned in front of the mirror and frowned at herself. She knew the dress wasn’t the problem. She was the problem. She tried on another one—emerald-green linen—that wasn’t too bad. This will have to do.

  “How’s Wolf coming along?” Reva asked.

  “Still living in his den under the porch, but I think he sleeps on the pool patio at night.”

  “Inside the gate is an improvement,” Reva said. “Is he still delivering the paper?”

  “Yes.” Abby selected a pair of earrings from Reva’s jewelry box—tiny emerald studs to match the green dress. “Still trying to earn a sense of belonging.” There seems to be a lot of that going around.

  “Has he let you touch him yet?”

  “Just once, for so brief a time I’m beginning to think I imagined it.” Abby poked through the box looking for a matching necklace. “He loves Sean and even plays with him. He has come up to Quinn a few times. He ignores me.” She settled for a simple gold cross.

  “Have you asked him why?”

  “Who, Quinn?” Abby struggled with the latch for a second before managing it.

  “No, silly. Wolf.”

  “I haven’t.” She glanced at the clock. “I’ll try talking to him tonight.”

  “Why not now,” Reva pressed. “I’ll connect in, too, and validate what you get. You have time before you have to leave, right?”

  Yes, she had time, if she could quit obsessing over every detail of her appearance. With one last glance in the mirror, Abby started hanging up all the dresses she’d tried on. “Let’s do it.”

  “You need to sit down and relax first,” Reva insisted. “I can hear you rattling around. You won’t be able to connect with him until you’re more centered and grounded.”

  Abby suppressed a sigh. Reva was right; Abby needed to take a few moments to calm herself before the meeting, anyway. She moved the dresses aside and sat on the bed, leaning against the headboard. “Okay. I’m relaxed.”

  Reva laughed. “No, you’re not. I can hear you breathing, and those are not relaxed breaths you’re taking.”

  Georgia inched over to align herself with Abby’s leg. Abby stroked the dog’s thick fur and focused on breathing in and out, in and out, in…and…out… She released a sigh, and felt the tension she’d been holding onto seeping away.

  “Good,” Reva said. “Okay, now. Imagine Wolf walking toward you. See the expression on his face, his ears pricked forward, his gaze on you. See his tail waving slowly back and forth as he comes closer. Let me know when he sits in front of you.”

  Abby imagined Wolf sitting in front of her. She saw his face, not relaxed and happy with his tongue lolling, but with his eyespots drawn together as he panted with anxiety. “He’s sitting. But he looks worried.” She imagined Wolf looking aside, refusing to meet her gaze. He darted a glance over his shoulder. It looked as if he was planning a potential escape route. “He’s thinking of running.”

  “He feels threatened by you. Ask him why.”

  “Why would he feel threatened?” Abby struggled with a flood of hurt feelings, the pain of being unjustly rejected. “I’ve only ever been nice to him. I’ve tried harder than anyone to earn his trust.”

  “Those are your feelings. You have to set them aside before you can hear his. Can you put those feelings in a box, just for now, and close the lid?”

  Abby swallowed. “Yes.” She imagined her feelings like the jumble of clothes on the bed beside her. She imagined herself folding them neatly and putting them in a box, then closing the lid and setting the box aside.

  “Breathe,” Reva coached. “Reconnect with Wolf.”

  She imagined the dog in front of her again, and gasped in surprise when she saw herself wrapping a heavy chain around his neck. He struggled to break free, but she pulled the chain tighter. “He thinks I’m going to capture him! He thinks I’ll put a chain on him and make him stay here whether he wants to or not.”

  “Ask him why he thinks that.”

  “I would never put a dog on a chain.”

  Reva didn’t respond, but her patient silence sent its own message. Ask.

  Abby went back to her imagined image of Wolf sitting in front of her. She asked the question, and got nothing. “I’m drawing a blank.”

  “Maybe you’re asking the wrong question. Try wording it differently. And for God’s sake, take the chain off first.”

  “Oh.” Abby played the movie clip in her head, watching herself take the chain off Wolf’s neck and tossing it aside. She watched herself sit a little farther back, not close enough to touch, not close enough to threaten. Wolf stopped panting, and his mouth looked more relaxed. I won’t hurt you, she imagined herself saying. I won’t try to catch you or hold you captive.

  And just like that, the answer came to her.

  “I’m trying too hard. He thinks I want to tame him, to own him, to make him mine. He feels my desire to lure him closer, and because I want something from him, he doesn’t trust me. He only came up to me that one time because my eyes were closed.”

  “So what are you going to do now?”

  “I have to be neutral. I have to let him come to me on his terms.”

  “Yes.” Reva’s tone was soft and approving. “Very good, young grasshopper.”

  Quinn tapped on the sliding glass door and Georgia leaped up, barking. Abby looked at the clock. “Damn, I’m sorry, Reva. I have to go. I was supposed to meet Quinn outside five minutes ago, and now he’s knocking on the door.”

  “Okay, bye. Thank you, thank you, and good luck. Call me later?”

  “Yep, yep,” she answered. “I’ll call later tonight.” And hopefully, the town hall meeting would go so well that Abby would have good news to share.

  *
* *

  Abby ended the call, then looked up at Quinn. “Sorry I’m late. Aunt Reva called to wish us good luck.”

  “No problem.” Actually, it would be a problem if they got there late and had to park a long way from the courthouse. But telling her that wouldn’t help the situation any. He jingled his keys. “You ready?”

  “Yes.” She followed him to the back door. “No… Wait. Where’s my purse?” She scanned the kitchen, then widened the search to the living room, anxiety apparent in her stiff posture and frantic movements.

  He knew she must be worried about getting up in front of the city council and speaking at the town hall today. “You know, you really don’t have to say anything at the meeting, if it makes you this nervous. Edna will be there, and she’ll be happy to go to bat again. Plus, after the article Sara wrote in the flyer, we have almost a thousand signatures of people who want Bayside Barn to stay open. I think we’ve done everything we can do.”

  Abby ran her hands through her hair and came back into the kitchen where she picked up a stack of mail and put it down again. “I can’t find my purse.”

  Quinn glanced at his watch. They should’ve left by now. “Where did you see it last?”

  “If I knew that, I wouldn’t be looking for it,” she snapped. “Would I?”

  He pocketed his keys and took her in his arms. Her heart thundered against his. “Calm down a second and think.”

  She took a breath. “Oh.” He felt a flood of relief go through her body. She relaxed and smiled, then gave him a quick kiss. “I remember now.”

  She retrieved her purse from Reva’s bedroom, and they headed out after closing the dog door to keep Georgia in the house. As Quinn drove to the courthouse, he noticed Abby’s hands twisting in her lap. He reached out and took her left hand in his. “Why so nervous?”

  She clutched his hand. “I don’t know. I have a bad feeling about this.”

  “It’ll be fine,” he assured her, though he was far from feeling that way himself. Yes, they had a boatload of signatures, and Edna had drummed up a bunch of concerned citizens to show up and cheer for their side. But JP hadn’t been sitting around doing nothing all this time, either. God only knew what kind of production he’d put on at the meeting.

  “What if it’s not fine?” With her hand in his, Abby couldn’t wring her fingers in her lap, but she chewed on a fingernail instead. “Maybe we should’ve told Reva to come. What if we need her here? What if it all goes wrong?”

  “If it goes wrong, we’ll find another way to fight.” He knew enough dirt on JP to smear his reputation, but since they’d once been business partners, any dirt he slung would blow back on him. He hoped it wouldn’t come to that.

  Quinn drove around the courthouse block looking for a parking place. As he’d feared, he would have to go farther afield. People stood in clusters on the sidewalk outside the building, and it looked like a line was forming to get inside. Abby squeezed his fingers. “Oh, no.”

  He squeezed back. “It’s a good thing. These people are all here to support Bayside Barn.” Some of them even had signs: Save Bayside Barn, and I’m a Bayside Barn Buddy! and Bayside Barn Buddies, Unite!

  By the time he parked and they walked a couple blocks to the courthouse, the doors had opened and the most of the crowd had streamed inside. “What if we can’t get in?” Abby worried as they took their place at the end of the line.

  “We’ll get in. Hand me your phone. I’ll text Mack.” He didn’t have Mack’s info in his phone, but he knew it was in hers. She was shaking visibly, her arms crossed over her purse. He gently took her phone from the side pocket. “What’s the code to unlock your screen?”

  At the X-ray machines, a reply came through from Mack: Edna is saving your places in the front row When they made it past security, Quinn held Abby’s hand and began to thread their way through the crowd toward the courtroom. Inside, Tammy Goodson, the city council president, was praising the high turnout of Magnolia Bay citizens and welcoming newcomers from an out-of-town investment group who would be making a presentation.

  Quinn led Abby down the packed center aisle where people were still standing and whispering as they tried to figure out where to sit. The front row had a printed sign taped to the end of the pew: Reserved for Speakers. Edna hadn’t taken any chances, though. She had her voluminous purse and a briefcase bag spread out around her to save room for them.

  A flush of shame and foreboding prickled Quinn’s skin when he saw JP and several dark-suited minions on the other end of the front row. Quinn subtly pushed Abby ahead of him and made a motion for Edna to scoot down; he didn’t want to be sitting any nearer than necessary to his old nemesis.

  Quinn wondered whether he should have called JP and confronted him before now. Quinn had kept his promise to call his contacts in the construction business, but none of them knew anything about JP’s plans beyond what he’d told the whole town at the last meeting.

  Abby patted Edna’s thigh and waved discreetly to Mack, who sat across the room with the other city council members. Now that they’d made it into the courtroom, her anxiety seemed to have subsided. Quinn took her hand, and she looked at him with a tremulous smile. Still nervous, that smile said, but holding steady and feeling hopeful.

  President Tammy invited proponents of Bayside Barn to step forward and talk. Abby hopped up as if she’d been stung and took a stack of index cards from her purse with shaking fingers. As President Tammy introduced Abby to the crowd, Abby hurried to the podium—clearly terrified, but just as clearly eager to get it over with.

  “My aunt, Reva Curtis, along with her husband, Grayson, opened Bayside Barn twenty years ago, making it their life mission to teach children—from Magnolia Bay to as far away as New Orleans—the importance of respect for the animals with which we share this earth.” She took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and settled in. “Together, they built the barn and renovated the old farmhouse on the property he inherited from his grandparents. Sadly, Grayson passed away two years ago, but Reva has continued to fulfill their mission at Bayside Barn.

  “Not only does the barn offer valuable educational opportunities for the children of Magnolia Bay and surrounding parishes, but it serves as a safe haven for lost and abandoned animals of the community. Though Magnolia Bay lacks an official animal shelter—something Reva has long been advocating for—Bayside Barn has fulfilled that need.” Abby took a shuddering breath and sent Quinn a panicked look. He gave her a thumbs-up sign and an encouraging nod.

  “Whenever my aunt Reva sees a need, she doesn’t wait to be told how she can help. She always takes it on herself to do the next right thing. That’s why she can’t be here today, because she is on sabbatical this summer in order to complete her education and certification in wildlife rehabilitation. So you see, even now, as some people are trying to take away her ability to help this community through the education and outreach opportunities offered by Bayside Barn, Reva is still working to improve her knowledge and to expand the ability of Bayside Barn to serve this community.”

  She stacked her index cards and set them aside. Sweeping a glance around the room, she met Quinn’s eyes and Edna’s and—Quinn thought—JP’s. Then she looked at the city council members, one by one. “I know that everyone in this room knows the right thing to do. I just hope you’ll find it in your hearts to do it. Thank you.”

  Except for JP and his cronies, everyone in the courtroom applauded, and many of them stood. Some in Abby’s path back to the bench patted her shoulder, and a couple even leaned close to kiss her cheek. Flushed with relief, she sat next to Quinn and grabbed his hand, squeezing hard. He held her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles. “Proud of you.”

  Quinn could feel JP shooting daggered glances his way from the other end of the bench. If JP hadn’t known he was here before, he did now. Knowing JP’s vindictive streak as well as he did, Quinn felt his skin prickle with ap
prehension.

  Edna squeezed past and gave a speech, this time handing out dozens of slick-looking photos she’d had laminated onto card stock. She presented a thick sheaf of the signatures they’d gathered from hundreds of people who agreed that Bayside Barn should continue to be exempt from the no-farm-animals-within-city-limits rule, even though the city’s limits had sprawled over the years to encompass the farm within its boundaries.

  At least a dozen more people got up and talked about the positive impact Bayside Barn had made on them, their children, or their grandchildren.

  Then, JP stood. Straightening his tie, he swaggered to the podium. His minions silently followed, carrying framed posters that they set up on easels around the room. Quinn’s heart thumped against his chest like someone hammering at a closed door.

  Holy crap.

  They’d brought architectural renderings of a huge hotel and marina complex. One of the minions set up a projector screen that showed a map of the area as it existed now, with a drawing of the proposed complex superimposed over it.

  Quinn heard a buzzing in his ears as JP used a PowerPoint presentation to illustrate each point. He explained that under his plan—for which he had now secured ample funding from out-of-state investors—the handful of estates on Winding Water Way would be leveled and the high ground built up even higher for a hotel complete with restaurants, shops, bars, and conference spaces to rival that of the finer New Orleans hotels. The cat’s-claw forest—once acquired—would be the site of an exclusive golf course that would bring in plenty of tourists with money to spend. The bayside acreage would be the site of a marina large enough to house thirty large yachts, with dry storage for twice that number. The marshy inlets along the shore would be dredged to accommodate the large vessels.

  JP talked about the millions of tourist dollars that would be added to the economy of Magnolia Bay, the hundreds of jobs that would be created. “So, you see,” he concluded, “it’s not so much about whether Bayside Barn should have its cute little furry animals within the city limits; it’s about whether Bayside Barn should exist at all.