Chapter Nine
Please excuse our mess. We’re remodeling,” Jolene said as she swung the door open before the ladies even knocked. She was glad to see these old gals. That they’d taken her under their wings and made her a part of their world meant more than they’d ever know.
“That sounds just like something Sugar would say. She called me last night, and Jasper is doing better now.” Lucy carried in a box filled with something that gave off a delicious aroma. “I brought green bean casserole, rice, and salad.”
Flossie came in behind her with a slow cooker. “I made my famous meatballs. I’m still mad at Reuben for what he did, but I’m glad he’s not here.”
Dotty brought up the rear. “I like to bake more than I like to cook. Like I’ve said before, I can cook, just like I can clean the bathrooms in the bar, but that don’t mean I like either one. Anyway, my job is always dessert. Today we have chocolate cake.”
Tucker took the box from Lucy. “Well, it all smells amazing. I’m starving. All Jolene would fix me for breakfast was a few scrambled eggs and some toast.”
“I don’t feel a bit sorry for you. You should have learned to cook,” Lucy declared.
“I never learned to cook because I was learnin’ how to put up drywall and repairin’ floors and workin’ all kinds of crazy hours as a detective.” Tucker’s drawl was more pronounced than ever. “I didn’t have time to do everything, and besides, I ate a lot of fast food. Anyway, I’m real grateful for sweet ladies from Texas like y’all who bring Sunday dinner to me.”
“Don’t you try to sweet-talk me, boy.” Lucy shook a forefinger under his nose. “And I wouldn’t even give that recipe to Sugar, so don’t ask. It’s an old family recipe from down in southern Cajun country.”
“What if he was a preacher? Would you deny the recipe to a man of the cloth?” Dotty asked.
“I wouldn’t deny God anything. He’s saved my soul,” Lucy declared.
“I’ll give you my recipe for the meatballs. Sugar found it in an old cookbook of her mama’s, and we been making them for years.” Flossie grinned.
Dotty cocked her head to one side. “I’m surprised that you’re goin’ to partake of them, Lucy. You know they’ve got half a can of beer in them, and if you’re goin’ to fuss at us about our sins, then you should practice what you preach. And by the way, was that a virgin daiquiri that you drank in the Gator last night?”
“Oh, hush!” she growled. “Just because Ezra’s death caused me to reevaluate my standing with the good Lord does not mean I can’t have a mixed drink or eat meatballs with a little beer in them.”
“You didn’t mourn long. You’re already eyeballing another man,” Dotty argued.
She stuck her nose in the air. “Ezra would want me to be happy.”
“Lucy, you’ve been doing this for the past twenty years,” Flossie said. “You get a boyfriend. He dies or breaks up with you. We have to go to every church in town so you can be right with the Lord. It’s time for it to stop. We like our own church, where we’ve all gone since we were little kids.”
“But what if it’s not the right one for the Lord to hear my repentin’ for bein’ a loose woman with a man?” Lucy asked as she helped get the food on the table.
“God could hear you if you were prayin’ in the ladies’ room at the Gator. And when you repent, you ain’t supposed to go out and do the same damn thing again,” Dotty said.
Lucy shook her finger at her. “You haven’t got any right to preach to me. We had to have an intervention to get you off alcohol after Bruce died.”
“That’s what gives me the right, chère.” Dotty dragged out the endearment.
“Miz Lucy?” Tucker pulled out a chair for her.
“Thank you, and Jolene, I’m sayin’ grace,” Lucy said.
Tucker seated Flossie, Dotty, and Jolene before he took his place at the head of the table.
The moment he sat down, Lucy dropped her head to her chest and rested her forehead on her hands.
Dotty rolled her eyes toward Flossie, who just winked and smiled.
“Our most gracious heavenly father in heaven’s glory,” Lucy started, and she went on for a good two minutes before she finally blessed the food with an amen.
“If this food is cold, then it’s your fault,” Dotty said.
“But God is happy that we graced it,” Lucy said.
Flossie pushed her chair back, went to the kitchen, and returned with a bottle of wine. “Almost forgot this. Jolene, darlin’, would you pour for us?”
“Wait a minute,” Dotty said. “This is our first Sunday dinner with Jolene at the Magnolia. Let’s do it up right.” She went to the china cabinet in the corner of the dining room and brought out four stemmed glasses.
“Be glad to.” Jolene poured for all three ladies. When she reached Tucker, he put a hand over his glass.
“Not much for wine, but I’ve got beer in the fridge. Anyone else want one while I’m up?” he asked.
“Lucy can’t have one. And she shouldn’t have the wine. I’ll drink it for her. She might not get her wings and halo if she has wine and beer both,” Dotty said.
Lucy glared at her. “You can shut up about that now so we can have a nice, pleasant dinner. And Tucker, I would love a beer. Wine with my dinner and a beer with the chocolate cake.”
Flossie whispered into Jolene’s ear, “She can’t hold her liquor worth a damn.”
Tucker returned and set a glass and a bottle of beer beside Lucy’s plate. “I take mine straight out of the bottle, but I got you a glass.”
“Bottle is just fine,” Lucy said.
He sat back down. “When we get done eating, we’ll give you a peek at what we’re doin’ upstairs.”
“Oh, really?” Dotty raised an eyebrow and winked at him.
Lucy downed her wine while the food was being passed. “If you’re going to think lewd thoughts, then I’ll need another glass of wine to get through this day gracefully. And I don’t like it that y’all are tryin’ to tell me how to live my life, what church I have to go to, and that I’m a repeat offender to God askin’ for forgiveness.”
Jolene wondered if her mother had ever asked for forgiveness or if she’d just barreled on ahead with her life, not giving a damn whose life she was ruining on the journey. Had she even realized or cared that she was breaking her daughter’s heart? Jolene could see her mother dancing through the trailer, music blaring on either the radio or the CD player. She’d be flying high on street drugs before she even hit the lowest-class bars in the area to add alcohol to the mix. Almost without fail she’d bring a different man home with her, the two of them leaning on each other and giggling as they stumbled back to her mother’s bedroom.
“Now, darlin’.” Flossie’s tone sounded like she was talking to a child. “You know that you don’t do well on two glasses of wine. Remember the last time you splurged?”
“That wasn’t the wine. It was the medicine I was takin’ for my blood pressure. I can drink both of you under the table,” Lucy declared. “Pour me another one, Jolene. I’ll prove to these two doubters that I can hold my liquor.”
Jolene picked up the bottle and handed it across the table. “Sorry, Miz Lucy, but it’s empty.”
Lucy glared at Dotty. “I saw two bottles in that oversize tote bag that you carry everywhere.”
“Now, chère—I mean, darlin’—one glass plus a beer is your limit. Jolene will have to take your keys if you have any more. Just think of all those angels in heaven who will be cryin’ if you fall off the wagon. You’ve only been ridin’ it a couple of weeks,” Dotty said.
Looking back, Jolene would’ve been glad if her mother had cared enough to put her problems aside and be a mother, or even a friend. Before her husband had died, Elaine had been so self-absorbed that she hadn’t had much time for her daughter. The only thing she really enjoyed doing with her daughter was shopping for clothes, so Jolene did have a few good memories from those years. After her dad was gone, most of the t
ime Elaine just screamed at her for not paying the bills or for not having her favorite food in the trailer.
“You open that bottle right now,” Lucy demanded.
“Okay, but I thought you were going to church tonight to flirt with the preacher.” She pushed back her chair, disappeared into the foyer, and returned with a big bottle of red wine. “I’m giving you this because you are my friend, but you know very well you can’t drink.”
“Enough already. I’ve got on my big-girl panties, and I can decide things on my own. Now pass those meatballs,” Lucy said.
Dotty opened the bottle and set it on the table, close enough that Lucy could reach it. Then she returned to her seat and picked up the beans. “I’ve always loved green beans made this way, and no one makes rice as fluffy as Lucy. Not even my Louisiana grandmother, and she cooked it every day. I remember when she came to Texas the first time and we had potatoes twice a day. She told me the day she left that she could never live in a place where the people lived on potatoes.”
“Thank you.” Lucy’s tone was still a little strained. “My granny was from over the line, too. She taught me to make it, and it goes so well with Flossie’s meatballs.”
“Yes, it does,” Tucker agreed.
An intervention. A talkin’-to. Whatever it was called, Jolene felt guilty that she hadn’t coerced her mother into the vehicle and driven her to the Magnolia. Aunt Sugar would have taken things in hand, and maybe, just maybe, Elaine would have gotten dried out from all the drugs and alcohol.
“I just got my first bite of green beans. Is that Creole seasoning that I taste?” Jolene asked.
“Might be a little, but that’s not the whole secret.” Lucy refilled her glass and took a long sip. “This is better than the last. What is it?”
“Blackberry,” Dotty said. “I thought it would go well with dessert.”
“Not as well as beer. I like it. Reminds me of that time when the four of us were teenagers and we found that bottle of strawberry Boone’s Farm wine in the Big Cypress Bayou, back behind the Magnolia.” Lucy giggled.
“We drank it all and then washed the bottle out with a little water and drank that, too,” Flossie said.
“And you . . .” Dotty pointed at Lucy. “You were the only one of us who got drunk.”
“I did not. It was all psychological. I didn’t know how much it took to get drunk, and I just talked myself into thinkin’ I’d had too much,” Lucy argued.
“One more glass and she’ll get funny,” Flossie whispered to Jolene.
“And then?”
“Hopefully she’ll see that she’s not an evil person for sleeping with her boyfriends, and that they don’t die or break up with her because she’s not good enough in bed. And we won’t have to go to some church where we don’t know the people next week,” Flossie explained out of the side of her mouth.
“What are you whispering about?” Lucy asked.
“We’re trying to figure out what else is in these green beans,” Jolene said.
Lucy stuck her thin nose in the air. “I might tell the preacher tonight, but I’m not tellin’ y’all. You’ve been hateful today.”
“And here it is Sunday, when we’re supposed to love everyone,” Tucker piped up from the head of the table.
“That’s right, sweet boy. I knew you had a good heart hidin’ in that sexy chest of yours,” Lucy said as she finished off the second glass of wine and poured another one. “Did you know that we had to have an intervention for Dotty?”
“I did.” Tucker gave her his full attention.
“Let me tell you about it. She was drinkin’ too much, so we had to take matters in our own hands.” Lucy nodded with every word. “Know what we did?” She frowned as if she was trying to remember something.
“We had a long talk with her, but in those days, no one ever heard of an intervention,” Flossie said.
“I was tellin’ the story.” Lucy pouted. “After we talked to her, I thought we needed a preacher to pray over her, but it was Thursday night and there wasn’t a church service going on.”
Dotty shivered. “It was a tent revival over the border in the Louisiana boonies. I half expected the preacher to bring out a dead chicken. I told Sugar if he let one of them rattlesnakes loose that he had caged up, I’d swim across the bayou, and that broke me from drinkin’ more than one glass of wine at a time or havin’ more than one beer a night. I laid my hand on Lucy’s Bible and swore that I’d never get drunk again if they wouldn’t make me relive that experience.”
“And Sugar said that she’d be right behind you in swimmin’ across the bayou,” Flossie laughed. “I wanted to take Dotty to a strip club instead of a church. I figured what she needed was a young stud to go to bed with her. That revival thing was Lucy’s idea.”
Lucy leaned over and stage-whispered to Tucker, “I bet you could get a job in a strip club.”
His smile grew into a chuckle. “I was a cop in Dallas and then a detective. I don’t think the force would have approved of that kind of moonlightin’ job. Besides, my uniform didn’t have those breakaway snaps to let me get out of it real fast.”
“Too bad,” Flossie sighed. “I bet Dotty would have put all of her dollars in your cute little thong underbritches.”
“Damn straight I would.” Dotty threw a wink his way.
Tucker picked up the bowl of green beans. “Anyone want any more of these? If not, I’m goin’ to finish them off.”
“You go right ahead, honey. And don’t let these two sinners make you blush,” Lucy said. “Is it time for dessert yet? I’m lookin’ forward to this bottle of beer.”
“I’ll get the cake,” Dotty said. “Anyone want ice cream with it? I know Sugar always keeps half a supply in the freezer.”
“Yes.” Tucker raised his hand.
“Me, too,” Lucy said.
“Wine, beer, cake, and ice cream?” Dotty shook her head. “You’ll be sick for sure.”
Lucy inhaled deeply and let it out in a whoosh. “Stop bossin’ me.”
Jolene had heard those three words before—lots of times. She’d beg Elaine to stay home on Friday and Saturday nights, to save the money for food or bills. And she’d get the same response—stop bossin’ me. Only it would be usually be followed up by Elaine yelling that if Jolene were a better daughter, she’d love her unconditionally and stop trying to change her.
“Miz Lucy, if you have a little hangover, Jolene has a magic remedy. You just call me and I’ll tell you how to fix it,” Tucker said.
Lucy tilted her chin up. “I won’t need it.”
And just what’s the difference in what Tucker does and what I did? Jolene’s mother’s voice was so clear in her head that Jolene cut her eyes around the room to see if she was there.
For one thing, he doesn’t have a teenage daughter who deserved a life of her own and who shouldn’t have needed to worry about grown-up things long before her time, Jolene answered.
He got the hangover medicine this morning. What do you have to say about that? Elaine argued. Like she’d done so many times in real life, Jolene let her mother have the last word by forcing her voice out of her head.
Sometime in the middle of that mental conversation, Dotty had brought in the cake and ice cream. “We’ll pass it around, and everyone can get however big of a piece they want.”
Lucy twisted the cap off the beer and took a long gulp. “That’ll clean my palate for the cake.”
Tucker shooed all four of the ladies into the living room with the rest of the wine after dinner was finished. “You brought the food. Jolene and I will do the cleanup. Go pretend like you are guests of the Magnolia Inn. No, don’t pretend. You are our very first guests, even if you didn’t stay the night here.”
“I knew I liked that boy from the first time I met him.” Lucy headed that way with a wineglass in one hand and a half-empty bottle of beer in the other.
There’s no one who’s all good or who’s all bad. What comes out and makes them look either way
are the choices they make. Jolene remembered Aunt Sugar telling her that when she complained about Reuben.
Did that apply to her drug-addicted mother? For years Jolene’d not been able to find a good thing about her mom, and then Elaine had died in that miserable, cheap hotel room. Maybe if Jolene would get over not having been there with her and not being able to stop the downward spiral, then she could hang on to a few of the good moments they’d shared.
Tucker followed Jolene to the kitchen with a stack of plates in his hands. “Now explain to me what just happened in there. That didn’t look like an intervention to me, and why are they even having one?”
“It’s complicated. From what I understand, Lucy feels guilty because she sleeps with men, and then they either die or break up with her. I think it might be her upbringing. Back in her day, sex before marriage was this big no-no.” Jolene rinsed dishes and put them into the dishwasher.
Tucker frowned. “So this is to get her out of religion? Most of the time folks try to push a person into it, not pull them out of it.”
“Evidently they know what they’re doin’,” Jolene said. “Their method worked with Dotty.”
“Guess you can’t argue with something that’s already been proven.” Tucker nodded in agreement. “Think Lucy can make it upstairs to see what we’ve accomplished?”
“If that ‘sweet boy’”—Jolene put air quotes around the words—“will offer her his arm and go slow, I bet she’ll make it just fine.”
“Been a helluva long time since I was called a boy.” Tucker chuckled.
“Oh, yeah! How long?”
“Well, honey, I was born in 1981. You do the math,” he answered.
“Thirty-eight?”
“On my birthday in April. And you?”
“Never was called a boy,” she told him. “I’ll be thirty-two in April. What day is your birthday?”
He scraped the leftover rice into the trash can. “The thirtieth.”
The Magnolia Inn Page 11