The Sweet Smell of Magnolias and Memories

by Celeste Fletcher McHale

  “Wanna bet?” Georgia smiled.

  An hour later they were packed and on their way to Biloxi. Jacey hadn’t been back to Mississippi since the accident, and she wasn’t sure if the trip would stir up the anxious feelings she’d grown accustomed to. But the two-hour drive from Baton Rouge to Biloxi proved anything but stressful. The only angst she felt was about finding the boys . . . and a little bit of fear as Georgia weaved her beloved Corvette in and out of traffic. She sighed with relief and settled back into the seat after Georgia whizzed by a tractor trailer.

  Jacey looked at the marsh through the car window and felt a deep and satisfying peace. She hadn’t felt that way in a long time. The sadness from learning the truth about Lillian and Demarcus remained, but finally remembering the accident had set her on a path of action and taken much of her anxiety with it. She was, at least, better than she’d been before she remembered. More than that, the hope she’d found difficult to reach for the past few months had resurfaced.

  While she was recovering, Jacey had spent many, many hours thinking about her life before the flood. It was, for lack of better words, vanilla. Benign. Uneventful. She was the oldest child, the big sister, the one who always followed the rules and didn’t make waves. While all of those traits were surely admirable, she began to think she was . . . well, boring. There had to be something missing from her life, something she had overlooked in her quest for perfection, a purpose to fulfill. Living—surviving—on a roof for three days had started the wheels of motion. At one of the worst parts of the storm, and before Colin had arrived, she had wrapped Demarcus up in her arms and huddled with Lillian and the other boys while the weather exploded around them. She knew they were going to die, that they would either be swept away from this unstable roof or be struck by lightning. She wondered during those fifteen minutes of terror what she’d be remembered for. Good grades? Beautifully worded stories? Perfectly ironed clothes? It was almost as horrifying as the storm. She vowed then and there if she ever made it off this roof alive, she’d do something worthwhile. It didn’t have to be great, it didn’t have to be applauded or recognized . . . but it had to be meaningful.

  “So, your big stud wants me to meet his friend,” Georgia said, snapping Jacey back to the present.

  “What?”

  “The morning you were all cozied up next to Colin, I texted him to see if you were there,” Georgia said. “While we were texting, he mentioned he wanted me to meet his friend. So . . . what do you know about him?”

  Jacey threw her hands up. “Nothing. See?” she said. “I don’t know anything about his friend, but I’m supposedly falling in love with the man? Shouldn’t I know something about the friend? Does this make any sense to you?”

  “Don’t start that again,” Georgia said. She screamed at the car in front of her, “This is the passing lane, moron!” She turned back to Jacey. “Anyway, don’t go off the deep end. I thought we’d already settled that.”

  “Oh, I know how I feel,” Jacey said, white-knuckling the dash. “I just can’t believe it. Nothing ever happens like this—you aren’t supposed to fall in love this fast. I keep thinking I’m breaking all the rules.”

  “I’m sorry,” Georgia said. “I feel like that virtually all the time, and I rather enjoy it.”

  Jacey laughed. “Well, it’s new to me, but I intend to embrace it. As soon as I figure out how that works.”

  “If nobody broke the rules, or amended them at least, nothing would ever get accomplished,” Georgia said. “Take me, for instance. If this car in front of me doesn’t stop going forty miles an hour in the passing lane, I’m probably going to push her with my car. That is breaking the rules, yet I’d be providing a quality service to everyone else on the road.”

  Jacey rolled her eyes. “Tell me about the friend Colin wants you to meet.”

  “All I know is he’s a football coach,” Georgia said. “And that’s already one gold star. Let’s hope he’s at least as handsome as the Rev, and that will be two gold stars.”

  “Is this still a five-star system?” Jacey asked.

  “Of course,” Georgia said. “I invented the five-star system, so why would I change it? Is there another system being used that I am unaware of?”

  “I used the frog-kissing system this past year,” Jacey said.

  “How’d that work out for you?”

  “You win,” Jacey said.

  The first stop of the journey was in Gulfport to visit the Harrison County Department of Child Welfare. They would surely know where the boys were placed after they left the hospital last year. Jacey was excited to find the boys and bounded into the office with high hopes. But her optimism was short-lived after she began asking questions and explaining the situation to the beleaguered woman at the front desk. Her name was Mrs. Ellis, and though Jacey found her most friendly and helpful about some things, that’s as far as it went. She couldn’t give Jacey any real information about the boys, she said. It was against the law. She couldn’t even tell her if they were still in the state of Mississippi. Jacey thanked her for her time and turned to leave the building. This time she looked around before she left. Amid her boundless optimism upon arrival, she had completely missed the atmosphere of the office. It was a dismal and gloomy place. The waiting area was packed, and none of the patrons looked happy. The phones rang nonstop, and Jacey suddenly felt very sorry for Mrs. Ellis and anybody else who worked here. It must be awful to deal with this kind of thing day in and day out, she thought.

  She got in the car and looked at Georgia. “No dice,” she said. “They can’t give me any information.”

  “I was afraid of that,” Georgia said. “But don’t get discouraged.”

  “I’m not,” Jacey said. “In fact, I already have another idea.”

  “What?”

  “I’m not telling you till tomorrow,” Jacey said. “In case you try to talk me out of it.”

  “When have I ever talked you out of something?” Georgia asked. “I’m always talking you into something.”

  Jacey laughed.

  Georgia sped toward the coast of Biloxi. “Okay, Jacey. Let’s find a place to sleep.”

  “Where do you want to stay?” Jacey asked, scanning her phone for hotels.

  “Preferably something on the beach,” Georgia said. “And when I say ‘on the beach,’ I don’t mean across the street.”

  “Here we go,” Jacey said, punching a few buttons on her phone. “Reservations made. All we have to do is get the key from the front desk.”

  Fifteen minutes later they arrived at the Belle Ame. It was a beautiful twenty-six-floor hotel, reopened in 2006—a year after the first four floors were destroyed by Katrina’s storm surge. Mother Nature knew no addresses, so both rich and poor sometimes suffered at her hands. But the hotel and casino had come back strong, a favorite among locals and tourist alike. The Belle Ame boasted a couple of four-star restaurants and was located on the beach. Georgia was quite pleased.

  She pulled into the hotel and put the Corvette in park, then handed the keys to the young valet who looked thrilled about the car he was lucky enough to park. “She’ll do eighty in five seconds and she corners like she’s on rails,” Georgia said, eyeing the boy warily. “I told you that so you wouldn’t wonder about it and decide it was a good idea to check it out for yourself. This car in my child. I will kill someone over it.” She narrowed her gaze and handed the teenager a folded twenty. “You have a nice day!”

  “Was that really necessary?” Jacey asked as they walked to the entrance. “You probably scared him to death.”

  “Betty doesn’t like being driven by someone she doesn’t know,” Georgia said.

  “You name your vehicles, yet I’m the one that had to go to therapy,” Jacey said.

  The bellman led them to their third-floor room after Jacey grabbed the key cards from the front desk. Jacey had stepped outside the box and booked a suite that did not disappoint. A living room area and kitchen provided all the comforts of home, com
plete with a minbar and a basket of snacks on the small dining table. The bedroom was spacious and decorated with ornate antique furniture that reminded Jacey of her grandmother’s house. It was both elegant and comforting: two of Jacey’s favorite things. She lay back on the king bed for a moment and breathed a contented sigh. It was good to be here.

  Jacey jumped up to enjoy the view from the balcony with Georgia, who had gone straight for the French doors as soon as they entered the room. When her phone beeped, Jacey quickly retrieved it from her purse, hoping it was Colin. Instead, there were two voice messages from her mom and one from her brother—whose voicemail entreated her to call their mother back before she “spazzed out.” Jacey chuckled. Still nothing from Colin.

  She called her mom and listened to her recount her adventures in gardening over the past week—how she still couldn’t get Jacey’s dad to help her weed the daylily beds and how pleased she was that her daughter sounded so happy. Jacey failed to mention that she was in Biloxi or that she’d finally remembered the details of that dreadful day. It would only worry her mother, who’d either insist Jacey come home or show up in Biloxi herself. That was the last thing Jacey needed on this mission. Her mother was a worrier and a fixer, and while Jacey loved and respected her, this was something Jacey needed to do. She knew her mother would try to talk her out of it, not because she didn’t want her child to find the children, but because she’d be afraid of her daughter getting hurt in the process.

  Georgia’s excited voice came from the balcony. “Jacey, come see!”

  Jacey put her hand over the phone and shushed Georgia. She pointed at the phone and mouthed, “Mama.”

  “You have to come see!” Georgia said again, louder this time.

  “Uh . . . I gotta go, Mama. Georgie needs me. Call you tomorrow, love you.” She hit the end button and ran to the balcony. “What is the matter with you? I was telling you to shut up, not speak up.”

  “Look!” Georgia said, pointing downward and to the right. “What do you see?”

  “What are you talking about?” Jacey asked, looking all around from their balcony.

  Georgia grabbed her shoulders. “Look!” she said again. “That house, right there. Who do you see?”

  Wait—was that Colin? Why was Colin on that deck? And who was that girl with him? And why did he have his arm around her?

  She looked at Georgia. “I’m going to kill him.”

  “And I’m going to help,” Georgia said.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  “It’s really good to see you, Julie,” Colin said. “How’s Dani?”

  “Dani is a teenager,” Julie told him. “Just turned thirteen. Can you believe it?”

  “Are you kidding me?”

  “I wish I was,” Julie said. “She’s trying to get that little teenager attitude too. I’m keeping a tight rein on that. How are you?”

  Colin gestured to a chair, and they sat down across the patio table from each other. “Well . . . I think I’m in love,” he said with a lopsided grin.

  Julie’s hands flew to her mouth. “What? Are you serious? Oh, Colin, I am so happy to hear this! Who is she? Where’s she from? Is she here?”

  He smiled even bigger. “I knew you’d be happy to hear that,” he said. “She’s from Baton Rouge. She’s the girl I was on the roof with during the flood. Jacey. Her name is Jacey.”

  Julie looked surprised. “I thought you couldn’t find her. We just talked about this, what—two or three months ago?”

  “It was the craziest thing,” he said. “I went to Baton Rouge to do some work for a church, some interim stuff. While I was there, I performed a wedding and she was a bridesmaid. I couldn’t believe it myself.”

  Julie shook her head in amazement. “His mysterious ways,” she said. “I told you a long time ago to trust the plan even when you couldn’t see it, didn’t I?”

  He smiled. “You changed my life, Julie. I’ll never be able to repay you for that.”

  “I didn’t change your life. All I did was give you the formula.” Julie smiled in return.

  “You put me in my place.”

  “You asked for it.” She laughed. “Listen, it has been great seeing you, but I really have to go. Dani and her little friends are probably driving Mike insane by now.”

  “How is Mike?” Colin asked.

  “He’s great. After six years of marriage, I still feel like I need to thank you for introducing us every morning when I wake up.”

  Colin laughed. “I’m just glad it worked out.”

  “We’re solid,” Julie said. “If our little teenager doesn’t kill us both.”

  “Dani’s a good kid. Just testing her independence a little. Come on. I’ll walk you out.”

  “No, stay here,” Julie said. “I’m going to walk down the beach back to the hotel.” They both stood, and she reached out to hug him. “I can’t believe you are actually in grown-up love. And I can see it in your eyes.”

  Colin embraced his friend. “I want you to meet her. Soon.”

  She pulled away. “I can’t wait to meet the woman who gave you that goofy look in your eyes.”

  Julie stepped out of the gate on the deck, then turned back around. “Wait,” she said. “Does she love you back?”

  “Of course she does,” Colin said. “She just doesn’t know it yet.”

  Julie laughed. “I’m sure you’ll find a way,” she said, waving as she walked away.

  Colin watched her until she made it to the hotel property next door. Julie Hargis was a true friend. The night after she read him the riot act in the bar, Colin went back to apologize and fetch his keys. Apologizing was a first for him. He usually said whatever he wanted and let the chips fall where they may. It didn’t always make him popular, but he didn’t care. Looking back, that wasn’t a trait he was proud of. Julie made him realize, in his drunken stupor, what a jerk he was.

  That night he walked to the edge of the bar and asked if he could talk to her.

  “You again?” she said in a monotone voice. “I’m working.”

  “I’ll wait,” he said.

  She shrugged. “Suit yourself.” She looked at him for a moment. “Are you going to order something? Let me guess. Scotch?”

  “Uh, water’s fine,” he said.

  “Good choice,” she said, then disappeared. She was back shortly with a tall glass of ice water and lemon. “I’ll be back when I can.”

  The bar was packed most of the night, and many of the patrons were friends or acquaintances of Colin’s. That included the girl he was supposed to go on a ski trip with in a few days. Chandler was her name . . . Chandler something, maybe Miller. The fact that he didn’t even know her last name wasn’t lost on him either. His life had become a series of short-term relationships, if you could even call them that. Alliances was probably a better word. He used everyone he knew for all sorts of reasons. He used Chandler for sex, and he used the guys as wingmen. He used his father for money. And he did it all with no passion, no feeling, and no guilt. For maybe the first time in years, he was ashamed of himself. Maybe the shame he should have felt had been buried beneath all the anger he used to keep warm at night. Whatever the case, it was coming to a head.

  His buddies asked him to join them at their table, but he declined. Chandler hung around with him for a while at the bar, but Colin finally asked her to leave him alone.

  “I’m just not good company right now, Chandler,” he said. “And look, I’m sorry, but I can’t go on this ski trip with you either. It isn’t about you . . . It’s me.”

  “Are you kidding me?” she said, her eyes flashing.

  “I’m sorry, Chandler. I really am,” he said. “I’m sorry about everything. Trust me when I tell you, you are way better off without me.”

  “Fine. Good-bye, Colin.” She stormed off to join the party in the back of the bar.

  Great. Another casualty of the USS Colin. He felt bad about it, but he couldn’t fake it with her anymore. It was time for him to get honest with eve
ryone, starting with himself.

  Long after his friends and most everyone else had gone home, he was still sitting on the barstool waiting for Julie. Whatever she had tapped inside of him, he wanted more of it. He had thought of nothing else today except her words last night. One paragraph from a tiny woman with a dish towel thrown over her shoulder had caused him to reassess his entire life. He needed to hear more of what she had to say, because he knew there was a wealth of information inside her. She had lived her pain, dealt with it, and moved on. Colin bathed in his. He needed the formula, and she could give it to him.

  Finally, after the doors were locked and the last customer was gone, Julie poured herself a glass of water and joined him.

  “So, Colin,” she said, sitting on a stool behind the bar. “What’s going on?”

  He stared at the girl and didn’t really know where to begin. She met his gaze without blinking.

  “Are you afraid to be in here alone with me?” he asked.

  “Are you a rapist or a murderer?” she said.

  “Right now I seem to be satisfied with hurting myself,” he said.

  “That’s a pretty good observation,” she said. “A critical first step.”

  “I need to know what you know,” he said.

  “I’m sorry?” Julie’s brows furrowed.

  “You seem . . . happy,” he said. “In spite of your circumstances. How do you do that?”

  “You don’t know any happy people?”

  Colin thought about his family, then his friends. With the exception of Joshua, the answer was no.

  “Not really,” he said. “There’s a formula you use, whether you realize it or not. I wanna know what it is.”

  Julie moved around on her stool, reached under the bar, and pulled out a book. “Here’s my formula.”

  She shoved the book across the bar to him.

  “This is a Bible,” he said.

  “You’re very smart, Colin. Ivy League?”

  He chuckled. “You have a very quick wit.”

  She smiled at him. “Survival 101. If you can’t fix it, laugh at it.”