The Magnolia Inn

by Carolyn Brown

  “Mine is the twenty-ninth,” she said.

  How did a mother turn her back on a responsible kid like Jolene? Tucker wondered. How could a mother ever become addicted when she had a daughter? If he and Melanie had had children, he’d have still hurt when she was killed, but he would have had something to live for.

  You’ve got something to live for now, so why are you still hitting the bottle? That niggling voice in his head sounded like Melanie.

  He blinked away the question he didn’t want to answer and said, “Guess us partners ain’t never gonna forget the other one’s special day, are we?”

  “Guess not.” She smiled. “And now we’d better get in there before our children get into more trouble than a simple hangover remedy can get them out of.”

  “So we’ve adopted them?” Tucker asked.

  “Aunt Sugar told me to watch after them, so I guess we have. But you don’t have to be the father figure unless you want. Might be good, because you aren’t the best role model, now are you?” She raised an eyebrow.

  “Come on now. I only drink on weekends,” he said.

  “When the kids are home.” Jolene walked past him out of the kitchen.

  She’s right again. Listen to her. Let me go, darlin’. You’ve got a life to live.

  Tucker set his jaw and followed Jolene. They could hear the singing before they reached the living room. Lucy’s voice, slurring the words, was the loudest.

  “Eighty-eight sips of wine in the jug, eighty-eight sips of wine. You take one now and pass it around. Eighty-seven sips of wine in the jug.” Dotty waved from the floor, where they were sitting in a circle. Lucy took a sip of wine and went on with the song, while the other two women only put the bottle to their lips and pretended to drink.

  “They’re here!” Lucy squealed. “We can go see what they’ve done upstairs.”

  Tucker extended his hand to Lucy. “Shall we lead the way, Miz Lucy?”

  When she was standing, he tucked her arm into his and headed for the stairs. She was weaving a little, but he’d seen worse—he’d been worse the night before. If he’d been a praying man, he would have asked God not to let Lucy tumble backward, because the other three women were right behind them. One false move and all five of them would go down, ass over big hair. Dotty and Flossie would probably end up with broken hips.

  He didn’t realize he was holding his breath until they were all in the hallway and well away from the stairs. “Watch yourselves. Furniture is piled up everywhere.”

  Lucy giggled when they entered the first bedroom. “I thought you was the best carpenter in East Texas, boy. Look at that bathtub in the bedroom. Are you crazy? Everyone knows you don’t put a bathtub in the bedroom.”

  Dotty slipped an arm around Lucy’s waist. “Lucy, you put in the bathtub and then build the wall around it. It would be a devil of a job to try to get it through the door after the walls were built.”

  Tucker eased away from Lucy, leaving her in Dotty’s care. “We’ll build a wall right here where the tape is on the floor. And we’re using the washstand out there in the hallway for the vanity. The tub and shower enclosure will be kind of modern. But we’re going to try to keep the old-world flavor.”

  “That sounds wonderful, Tucker, but we really should be going. Don’t you have an appointment to meet up with the church Prayer Angels?” Dotty asked Lucy.

  “Yes, I do,” Lucy huffed. “And for your information, I just sell antiques. I don’t build houses.” She turned her attention to Jolene. “But it looks good. Let’s go back down to the living room and sing some more. I liked that better than lookin’ at bathtubs in bedrooms.”

  “I’m sure you did.” Flossie winked at Tucker. “You are doing an amazing job. Sugar would be so proud. You sending lots of pictures to her, Jolene?”

  “Every day,” Jolene answered. “I take before, after, and in-progress pictures. I’ve been sending them daily and talking to her at least every other day.”

  “I do sing well, and I will pray for you.” Lucy poked Tucker in the chest. “I will ask God to take away your desire to drink.”

  Tucker didn’t even argue. He could use all the help he could get, but if God had been standing watch, he thought, then his Melanie wouldn’t be dead.

  “You do that, Miz Lucy.” He put her arm back in his and dreaded going down the stairs even more than he had climbing up them. But at least if she pitched forward, she would only take him with her.

  They made it to the ground, where Dotty took control and chattered the whole time she helped Lucy into her coat. “Thank you for a wonderful visit. I can’t wait for the construction part to be done and the pretty stuff to start. You can bring our dishes home next Sunday. Dinner will be at Flossie’s house. One o’clock sharp. Don’t be late. We’ve always taken turns hosting Sunday dinner.” She paused for a breath.

  “Yes, ma’am.” Tucker jerked on his boots and followed them out to the car to open doors for them. “And you call me if you have a headache later on tonight, Miz Lucy.”

  “Honey, I never felt better in my life. I just wish we’d got to the end of the ninety-nine sips of wine song. I was havin’ fun,” she said.

  Dotty winked at him. “Thanks for everything. Sugar would be proud of you and Jolene. And now that she’s three sheets to the wind, we’re hoping that Lucy’ll get off this crazy merry-go-round she’s been on.” Dotty lowered her voice. “Sometimes it takes a good hangover to realize that you’ve been goin’ down the wrong path.”

  Most of the time, a person has to want to take a step into the future, rather than living in the past. What do you want, Tucker? This time his grandfather’s voice was in his head.

  Chapter Ten

  Jolene could hardly believe that it was already Friday again, but the calendar on her phone didn’t lie. She and Tucker had gotten more done the past five days than she’d thought possible. The bathroom walls were up, and the dining room now had a hole big enough for a door where he’d knocked out the wall to put in new water lines. That morning he was under the house working on getting the last bits of plumbing done. After that he said they’d be ready for drywall.

  She rolled her neck a few times to get the soreness out. This construction business was harder on the body than standing on her feet eight hours behind a bar for sure. But she was beginning to get a picture of what he’d visualized all along. Maybe as Aunt Sugar and Uncle Jasper came back across the United States on their way to California, they’d stop by and see all the improvements. Jolene was almost giddy as she thought about showing off the new bathrooms and all the remodeling.

  Tucker’s hand stuck out of the crawl hole. “Hey, I need a crescent wrench.”

  She put a tool in his hand, but in five seconds it came back out. “A crescent wrench, not pliers.”

  “Sorry about that,” she said. “Don’t fire me. I’m still learning.”

  “No way.” He chuckled. “At least you didn’t give me a pry bar, like my last assistant did,” he said.

  “That’s because I’m not an assistant. I’m a partner, and I work real cheap.”

  When he finished, he inched out from under the house on his back, face-first. She was sitting cross-legged on the cold ground, all the tools laid out before her like surgical instruments. “Man, you are organized,” he said.

  She raised a hand and grinned. “My name is Jolene Broussard, and I’m afflicted with a slight case of OCD.”

  He pulled himself on out and sat down beside her. “My name is Tucker Malone and I have a confession. I’m a weekend drunk, but my deceased wife keeps tellin’ me to stop living in the past and get on with the future. I never have wanted to do it before, but now I kind of do.”

  “Maybe we should both listen to her.” Jolene hopped up. “I didn’t know that you did plumbing as well as construction.”

  “It’s not my favorite part of remodeling. Electricity is even farther down on the list. But I got my license in both when I started flipping houses as a hobby.”

&nbs
p; “Why didn’t you just do that rather than police work on top of it?” she asked.

  “My grandpa was a cop. I adored him and wanted to be like him. But I always loved working with my hands, too.” He rolled up onto his feet. “That should do it for the plumbing. Let’s go up and turn on the water, and then I’ll test for leaks before we cover up the crawl space.”

  She sighed. “Will this be the process every time we put in bathrooms?”

  “Kind of, but not really. I can tie into the pipes in the dining room wall, but that hole won’t be covered up until we get finished.” He put his wrenches into his toolbox and carried it inside the house.

  “I’m just glad you’re the one crawling under the house. I’m claustrophobic,” she admitted. “And I’m afraid of heights. Or maybe not so much afraid of high places as falling off them. Do you put roofs on houses, too?”

  “Yep. I’m not afraid of being up high or in tight spots, as long as there’s no spiders in either place. Here.” He tossed an aerosol can toward her.

  She caught it midair. “What is this?”

  “Bug spray. I never go under a house without it.” He grinned.

  Dotty met her at the back door of the Gator that night with a worried look on her face. “It’s only five minutes until we open. I was gettin’ a little worried.”

  “Time got away from me.” Jolene put her coat and purse under the counter and grabbed an apron. “Tucker and I were putting up drywall. How did it go with Lucy? I’ve been meanin’ to call all week, but we were so busy.”

  “I think we finally got her to see the light. She admitted, while she was drunk, that she felt like God was always punishing her for sleeping with men when she wasn’t married to them, and that He was killin’ them off or else making them break up with her. We got her to understand that wasn’t the case. It’ll take a little reinforcing along the way, but I believe she’s going to do better. She can have boyfriends. She can sleep with them. That’s not why they die. We’ll just have to keep her reminded. She’s pretty mouthy, but she’s kept all this shit bottled up. Me and Flossie and Sugar knew why she was doin’ it, but she had to finally admit it to herself. You know, it’s kind of like smokin’. Until the one with the cigarette in his hands realizes he’s got a problem, no amount of bitchin’ from his family or friends will help him stop.”

  “You got that right.” Jolene thought of her mother, who never one time had admitted she had a problem. “Anything I can do to help?”

  “No, but we did have to get Sugar on the phone. We put it on speaker, and she really helped us out. I got to tell you, Jolene, Sugar was kind of the glue that held us all together. I’m damn glad we can call her and talk about all this,” Dotty said. “Now tell me about Tucker. He must’ve had a hangover to have mentioned a hangover cure.”

  “I told him it was a onetime deal. I didn’t want him to have a hangover when y’all were there, so I gave him the cure I always used on my mother,” Jolene answered.

  “Why is it a one-timer?” Dotty asked.

  “I felt responsible for Mama. I don’t for him. He’s a grown man.” Jolene waved at Mickey as he came out of the men’s room and took his place at the door.

  She picked up a bar rag and gave the counter one more cleaning and thought about her statement. Tucker was a grown man, but he was also a troubled soul. Neither was any of her business, but these past days she’d felt an attraction for him.

  No! I will not get involved with someone who is still in love with his dead wife and who drinks. Lord knows I’ve already been through enough in that department—maybe not with the wife issue, but with the other.

  “Time to open.” Dotty signaled to Mickey to unlock the doors.

  In minutes there was a group of young folks on the floor line dancing to “Cotton Eye Joe.” The stools quickly filled, and people were lined up three deep waiting on drinks.

  “Goin’ to be another busy one,” Dotty said as she pulled two pitchers of beer. “I should’ve hired a hot young bartender years ago.”

  “Oh, hush.” Jolene hip bumped her.

  “And, honey, don’t judge Tucker too hard. I’ve been where he is. It ain’t an easy place to be. He’s got to work through the fog before he can see the light,” Dotty said.

  “I’m not judging.” Jolene reached for a bottle of Patrón tequila. “But I’m not his keeper.”

  “You might be more than his keeper. You and the Magnolia might be his salvation,” Dotty said.

  “Don’t know about that, but when we close up, I’ll show you the pictures of what we got done this week on my phone,” Jolene said. “Aunt Sugar loves it, but I hear a little reservation in her voice about Tucker. Did she say anything to you?”

  “It’ll slow down in a little bit, and you can show me then. And Sugar is worried about him. She wants to help him get through his problems. You know how she is. Your aunt sees good in everyone, even Reuben. Anyway, she thinks Tucker was led to the Magnolia so he can realize he has a problem. But she and Jasper are mad at Reuben, and a little aggravated at Tucker for buying him out so fast. If Reuben hadn’t had such an easy out, then maybe he would have partnered with you, and then you could have helped him.”

  “I don’t think there’s help for Reuben. But I do know that Tucker needs to move on.”

  Dotty shrugged. “You both need to do just that.”

  Jolene started to say something but stopped when she saw Lucy and a distinguished-looking elderly man coming straight toward the bar.

  Lucy threw up a hand and made a beeline for an empty barstool. “Hi, sweetie. I want you to meet Everett. We’re here to dance more than drink, but if you’d make us one of those daiquiris that you made me and Flossie the other night, we’d love it. And”—she leaned across the bar—“do not let me drink more than one. Kick me out if I even order a second one.”

  “Hello.” Everett stuck a hand over Lucy’s shoulder. “I’d rather have a rum and Coke.”

  “I’m Jolene,” she said. “Two drinks comin’ right up.”

  “I see an empty table. I’ll grab it and wait for you there.” Everett handed Jolene a bill. “Keep the change.”

  “Did I really sing ‘Ninety-Nine Sips of Wine’?” Lucy asked.

  Jolene nodded. “And you decided that Tucker was a good boy and not the devil.”

  “They goaded me into proving I could drink and I can’t, but I forgive them because it was for a good reason. Flossie and Dotty got it started, but it was Sugar who really lined me out. I feel like a rock has been lifted from my soul.” Lucy picked up the two drinks. “And that’s not the preacher. He’s the man who came into my shop last week and asked me out. I wouldn’t make a good preacher’s wife, you know.”

  Jolene smiled. “I’m glad you feel better, and you didn’t even call me for the hangover cure.”

  Lucy leaned over the bar and whispered, “I was too ashamed to call, honey, but if I ever make that mistake again, I sure will.”

  Everett was tall, like Lucy—lanky, like Lucy. And he had a cute little gray mustache and mischievous blue eyes. Lucy had better be careful, Jolene thought, or she might be doing more than dancing with that handsome old guy.

  She caught a glimpse of them every little bit, and they looked like they were having a great time. They were both very good at two-stepping and swing dancing, but they sat out the line dances. Neither of them came back to order another drink, so it looked like Lucy really had learned her lesson, for a little while at least. Now that she and Dotty had both been in the intervention spotlight, Jolene couldn’t help but wonder when it would be Flossie’s turn—or if Sugar had ever had it shined on her.

  Jolene stumbled into the kitchen the next morning looking, Tucker noticed, like the last rose of summer a big old hound dog had hiked his leg on. Tucker smiled at his grandpa’s old adage.

  “Mornin’,” she grumbled.

  He pointed at the coffeepot. “Just made a fresh pot. I drank what I made earlier while I was figuring out what we need to get ready fo
r work on Monday.”

  She poured a cup and sat down at the table with a groan. “And what do we need?”

  “We should go to the paint store in Marshall. You could pick out the paint for this first bedroom so that we’ll have it on hand when we’re ready for it. I’m thinking that instead of peeling off all that old wallpaper, plaster, and lathing, we just put up drywall over it. If you want to feminize it, you could put a border around the ceiling, but wallpaper is a real bitch to hang and to maintain.”

  “Sounds good to me,” she said.

  “We could get a burger or maybe hit a pizza buffet for lunch. My treat,” he said.

  “That sounds wonderful. Give me a few minutes to shower and get dressed,” she told him.

  He went out to sit on the porch swing, and Sassy followed him. The cat settled onto his lap and meowed.

  “So I’ve been hearing Melanie’s voice more lately, but the only thing she says is for me to move on. I didn’t tell her good night last night like I always do. Does that mean I’m finally taking a step forward?”

  The cat shut both eyes.

  “Lot of help you are,” Tucker said. “There are days now when I can’t remember what she looked like without looking at her picture. It scares me, Sassy.”

  The cat opened one eye and then closed it again.

  “If I don’t remember her, then all those wonderful years we had together will be gone,” he whispered.

  Jolene pushed her way out onto the porch, and Sassy hopped down off his lap and made a beeline to the door. “Guess she doesn’t want to get left outside,” Jolene said as she started for her truck. “I can’t wait to decide what color to do this first room. I think they should all be different, but we should keep the colors muted and light, and that the border should have magnolias on it. But I have been thinking of painting the front door purple and hanging a pretty magnolia wreath on it. Aunt Sugar talked about doing that for years, but they never got around to it.”

  “Sounds good to me. We can take my vehicle,” he said.