“Roger was a little snot-nosed boy who grew up right down this road.” She laughed. “Always into something. His daddy, Cephus, worked for my husband. We used to own close to three hundred acres of land around here. We raised cattle, you know. When Ebben got sick, we had to sell it off piece by piece until all that was left was this old house place. Anyway, Roger’s daddy was a good, hard worker. Could fix just about anything from a tractor to a refrigerator.” She laughed again. “That Roger tried to fix things too. He just made a bigger mess. He was real smart in school, though. Always made good grades, played a lot of sports. He went to college on a scholarship. I don’t think I have ever seen a daddy any prouder than his was. Cephus got to see Roger graduate before he passed away. I was so glad of that. Roger went on to become the first black sheriff of Harrison County. I sure wish Cephus could’ve seen that too. Roger has never forgotten the old lady who made him cookies and Kool-Aid every day. Comes to visit me once a week, even though he’s got other things to do. Me and Ebben never had no kids, and I ’spect Roger was the closest thing we had to one of our own. He sure is a good boy.”
Soon after, Roger Jefferson, a big man with a warm smile, walked into Mrs. Ernestine’s house with an armload of groceries and a bouquet of spring flowers.
“How’s my favorite girl?”
“How many times do I have to tell you to stop spoiling me?” she said. “But I’m sure glad you still don’t listen.”
Roger laughed and gave her a hug. “Now, Mama Ernestine, you know I always listened to you.”
Mrs. Ernestine introduced the girls to Roger. “Y’all need to sit down at the table and have a talk.” She excused herself and went outside to tend to the chickens.
Roger shook hands with each of them and sat down at the table. “Mama Ernestine told me about you on the phone, Jacey. You don’t remember me, do you?”
“No, sir, I don’t,” Jacey said, a little confused. “Should I?”
“I helped pull you out of the water,” he said.
Jacey swallowed. “Thank you,” she said, her chest suddenly tight. “I don’t know how I could ever thank any of you enough.”
“No need for that,” he said. “We were just doing our jobs. It sure is good to see you healthy and well. I understand you are trying to find the boys.”
“Yes, sir,” she said. “I’d really like to see them.”
He leaned back in his chair. “Those boys were the light of Lillian’s life,” he said. “She didn’t have much of an education and never had more than a minimum wage job here and there, but she would’ve done anything for those boys.” He turned and looked outside at Mrs. Ernestine feeding the chickens. “Mama Ernestine helped keep all of them fed, but she’d never tell you that.
“Lillian was a good girl, but she got messed up with the wrong man. Followed that trash down here from Atlanta,” Roger continued. “He’s doing life in Angola now. Drugs do terrible things to a person, and they make you do terrible things to other people. The boys never really knew him, and that was a blessing. He came in and out of Lillian’s life, and she always let him. I guess she really didn’t know any better.”
“Did Lillian know he was in prison?” Jacey asked.
“No,” Roger said. “I doubt it. He killed a man in New Orleans a couple of months before the flood. Went to jail the same night. The only reason he would’ve called her is if he thought she could bail him out. And he knew better.”
“What an awful story,” Georgia said quietly.
“It is,” Roger said. “Unfortunately, it isn’t an uncommon story when drugs are involved. But, to answer your questions about the boys . . . Yes, they are in foster care here in Biloxi.”
“What about their grandparents?” Jacey asked. “Doesn’t anybody want them?” She felt a fresh surge of compassion for the boys. This entire story was heartbreaking.
“We finally got in touch with a sister of Lillian’s after the flood,” Roger said. “She wasn’t concerned at all, I hate to say. Lillian’s parents are both in a nursing home in Atlanta. The sister has children of her own and is in no better shape financially than Lillian was. I took it they weren’t on the best of terms in the first place. Her sister said—and I quote—‘Hell no, don’t bring me no more kids.’ The boys’ father renounced his parental rights soon after the last boy was born. I’m sure that was to get out of paying child support, which he never paid anyway.”
“So they’re just out there in limbo now?” Jacey asked. “Does the family they’re with want to adopt them?”
Roger shook his head. “They don’t seem to be doing too well with this family,” he said. “You know, I’m not making any judgment calls, but some folks really care about these kids and some folks just take them in for the check.” He remained silent but looked at Jacey.
She caught on immediately. “We gotta get them out of there,” she said. “Now.”
“Easier said than done,” Roger said. “We’re dealing with the state and child services. That’s a whole lot of red tape.”
“Well, let’s get the scissors,” Georgia said, apparently completely on board.
“Can I at least see them?” Jacey asked.
“I’ll see what I can do,” Roger said, standing up. “You know, I’d take all three of them myself if I weren’t sixty-eight years old. But this was my last election and I’m tired. I wouldn’t be good for a houseful of rowdy boys trying to play sports and go to school. But . . . maybe some young folks would be just what they needed.”
The seed Roger Jefferson planted wasn’t lost on Jacey. In a quick flash she imagined herself cheering at a baseball game as “her boy” slid into home. She smiled broadly at Roger. “Thank you so much.”
“Thank you,” he said. “I’ll be in touch.” Roger walked into the yard and stopped to talk to Mrs. Ernestine on his way.
“No, Jacey,” Georgia said as soon as Roger closed the door.
“What do you mean?”
“You know what I mean. I see that look on your face, and I was sitting here for the conversation. You can’t adopt three children.”
“Why not?” Jacey asked.
“Because you’re twenty-five years old!” Georgia said. “Because you haven’t the slightest idea how to raise a kid. Because you, I don’t know . . . because . . . you just can’t be adopting kids.”
“Don’t you think we are counting our chickens before they’ve hatched?”
“Don’t you dare bring those chickens into this,” Georgia said. “You need to think about all of this.”
Jacey smiled. “Speaketh the woman who has always said, ‘When something is right, you just know it.’ Remember?”
Georgia rolled her eyes. “I know that look,” she said. “You are about to pursue this with everything you’ve got, aren’t you?”
“Let me think about that,” Jacey said. “Yes, I am.”
“Okay. If I can’t change your mind between now and when you see them, I’ll get on board.”
“Thank you,” Jacey said.
“But there’s just one thing. I’m not going back through Colonel Sanders’s playground unless I can ride you piggyback to the car.”
Jacey laughed. “Hop on.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
The waiting room was a pale and tranquil blue, theoretically designed to calm the nerves and make people forget where they were. But that antiseptic smell . . .
Colin hated hospitals, and he’d spent weeks in this very one after the flood. He looked over at Jasper, his face wan and expressionless. What was Jasper thinking? Had Colin actually heard his father’s voice break as he held Colin’s mother in his arms? Colin had spent years thinking Jasper didn’t care about Ava. Nothing seemed further from the truth today.
“Has this happened before?” Colin asked, cutting through the silence that hung between him and his father.
Jasper looked at him as if he didn’t understand the question. “What did you say?”
“I asked you if this has ever happened before.”<
br />
Jasper looked down the hall and avoided Colin’s gaze. “A couple of times,” Jasper said.
“When?” Colin pressed.
“Just a couple of times in the past,” Jasper said. “What did you want to talk to me about?”
“Huh?”
“You came to the house to talk to me today,” Jasper said. “What did you want?”
Colin paused, then shook his head. “Nothing,” he said. “It was nothing really.”
He watched his father get up and walk down the hall. Colin was doused in guilt. He was the last person to talk to his mother before this “episode,” as Jasper called it. Had his careless words brought this on? The cardiologist called it some sort of twelve-syllable disease, but all Colin heard was “life-threatening.” When Colin asked, Dr. Seiler cautiously affirmed that what happened today could have been brought on by stress, but he went on the say that with heart disease, no one was to blame. That was of little comfort to Colin. He’d said something very hurtful and offensive to his mother, and the next thing he knew, she was on her bedroom floor unconscious. Heart disease may have been the culprit, but he’d been the catalyst.
Jasper appeared with two cups of coffee and offered one to Colin.
Colin accepted the cup. “Thank you,” he said.
Jasper didn’t reply.
The uncomfortable hush was broken when the nurse informed them that Ava was in a room and they could go up and see her. Colin and Jasper rode the elevator without speaking. When they got to the room, Jasper turned to him.
“I’d like to see her alone,” he said. “Just for a few minutes.”
Colin started to protest but decided he’d caused enough problems today. He stepped away from the door and let his father go in.
Colin leaned up against the wall and pulled out his phone. He turned it on for the first time in twenty-four hours. It felt like it had been months since he’d talked to Jacey. He needed to hear her voice, to hold her, to tell her about the chaos in his family. He should’ve told her already, but he wanted to fix it first. Now it seemed all he’d done was make the situation worse.
He listened to Jacey’s cheerful message. “So, I thought I’d let you know I have thought about what you said to me, and I think . . . well, I think I need to talk to you in person. And I’m sorry about the box I broke. Something crunched under my feet, so I hope it wasn’t important. Also, I looked in the mirror after I left and I’d like to apologize for how bad I looked too. Anyway, I’m about to run out of time to leave this message so call me. Bye.”
Colin smiled. She was beautiful to him, in every way. He put the phone back in his pocket and leaned his head against the wall. He may want her and need her, but she didn’t need this. He’d overstepped his bounds with Jacey. He never should’ve told her he was falling for her . . . at least not now. Jacey didn’t need another line item on her trauma-filled résumé. She was just getting her life back together, and she shouldn’t have to deal with crazy family drama and Colin’s most obvious shortcomings. Maybe the best thing to do was to take a step back. He’d expected to make a flying trip to Biloxi for a few days, cut ties with his father, visit with his mother, and head back to Baton Rouge to the girl he was sure he was in love with. He heard his mother’s words again, chastising him for calling himself something he just wasn’t . . . and she was right. He wasn’t fit to call himself a man of God, or even a good son. Why did he think he’d be a good partner for Jacey? What kind of son didn’t even know when his mother was sick?
He took his phone out of his pocket and impulsively sent Jacey a text.
“I am sorry about this, Jacey, but I have to take a step back from you and me. I am not the man you think I am or the man I presented myself to be. I hope you find the boys and bring them the same joy you brought me. Please take care of yourself.”
He pushed the send button before he changed his mind and put his phone away.
Jasper came out of the room and closed the door gently behind him.
Colin stepped toward his mother’s room, but his father touched him on the arm.
“Let’s go over here and talk first,” Jasper said.
Colin followed him to a small and vacant waiting area. “What’s going on?” he asked.
Jasper motioned for him to sit down.
Jasper sat across from him and leaned forward in the chair. “Colin,” he began, “your mother has been ill for quite some time.”
Colin started to ask a question, but Jasper waved him off.
“I know you may be angry that you weren’t made aware of this . . . among other things. But I won’t have you blaming your mother. I could’ve told you she was sick myself, but I respected her wishes. Don’t go into her room half-cocked and demanding answers.”
Colin bristled but didn’t respond. This was no time to get into another altercation with his father. He would respect Jasper’s wishes, for Ava’s sake. “I understand,” he said.
“Good,” Jasper replied. “Dr. Seiler is still in the room with her discussing options. The heart disease has gotten much worse in the last few months. There are three blockages, and one is 100 percent. We are most likely looking at open-heart surgery sometime this week. Maybe as early as tomorrow.”
Colin was stunned by this news. “I thought it was something controllable,” he said.
“As I said, her condition has worsened. For a while, she responded quite well to medicine. But the last few months . . .” His voice trailed off and he leaned back in the chair.
Colin sat in silence. Stress was a factor in heart disease, wasn’t it? If he hadn’t caused the stress himself, he’d certainly contributed to it. He thought back on recent months and the few times he actually talked to his mother. She asked him repeatedly to visit, but he said he didn’t want to see Jasper. She even offered to come to him, but he said he was too busy. Today his words had caused her to become so angry that she’d walked away from him. And God only knew what happened to her internally after she climbed the stairs.
“Can I see her now?” he asked his father.
Jasper nodded toward the door of her room.
Colin opened the door slowly and peered inside.
“Mom?” he said.
Ava was propped up in bed, her eyes closed. She opened them when she heard his voice and stretched her arm to offer her hand.
He grabbed her hand. “I’m so sorry, Mama,” he said. “I didn’t mean to—”
“Stop,” she said. “You didn’t cause any of this.”
“I should have been here for you,” he said. “I didn’t know you were sick. I would’ve dropped everything.”
“That’s exactly why I didn’t want you to know,” she said. “I’m going to be fine. There will be plenty of time to repair . . . a lot of things. Okay?”
Colin shook his head. “What can I do for you?”
She squeezed his hand. “You can stay here with me and tell me all about your life.”
Colin sat down in the chair beside her.
“What do you want to know?” he asked.
“Well,” Ava said, “let’s start with your love life. Anybody special?”
Colin thought about Jacey and the text message he’d sent her earlier. He shook his head. “No, ma’am,” he said. “Not really.” The words pierced his heart.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Jacey stared at the sunset on the Gulf from the balcony of their room. Life was perfect right about now. She had the best friends anyone could ever ask for, a job that gave her all the freedom she wanted, and finally a man to love. She had tried to deny it, but she couldn’t. What she felt for Colin was completely different from any other feeling she’d felt in high school, and he was unlike any man she’d dated since then. It felt good to give in to the emotion and everything that went along with it. All the sappy, saccharine clichés she’d always heard but never understood had become crystal clear to her. She didn’t know whether to gag or laugh.
She glanced down at the deck of the house next door. Wh
oever that woman was, and whatever she was doing with Colin, it didn’t bother Jacey so much anymore. He would never disrespect her by being with another woman. She had faith in Colin, and that was all she needed. She had trusted him with her life once before, and she could trust him again. So what if their romance hadn’t happened amid candles and roses and the traditional frills? It had happened with moonlight and magnolias, and that was even better. She and Colin had already proven they could withstand the tough times. Wasn’t that half the battle?
She leaned back onto the chaise and smiled. Soon she would see the boys again . . . and who knew what would happen after that? Before the flood, a scenario like this would’ve scared her to death. A situation she couldn’t control? An outcome she couldn’t predict? No, thanks. But now, even while mourning for Lillian and Demarcus, she felt liberated somehow. No longer tied to the weight of order and routine. She was absolutely open to anything this journey had to offer. If her time on the roof had taught her anything, it was that life was uncertain. If she could adopt these boys, it would be a beautiful and unexpected gift.
Georgia, however, had spent every second of the trip back from Mrs. Ernestine’s house naming all the reasons Jacey couldn’t seriously consider adopting three boys she barely knew. She was too young, too naïve, and too unmarried to raise three kids. That made Jacey laugh out loud.
“This is not who you are, Jacey,” Georgia said. “Your clothes are arranged in color order in your closet. You line up your shoes like little soldiers ready for battle. You pay your bills the day you get them, and you save money like a miser. Your life is a bouquet of order. Children are messy.”
“You have told me since the day we met to be more spontaneous,” Jacey argued.
“But I was talking about eating raw oysters and bungee jumping, not having three kids all at one time,” Georgia said. “Have you lost your mind? They didn’t even come out of your personal uterus.”
“Look, I know it sounds crazy, but doesn’t it seem like all this is happening for a reason? Colin shows up—then I just happen to remember the accident all of a sudden? We happen to find Mrs. Ernestine, who in turn happened to know the sheriff? And they both knew Lillian and the boys? Come on, Georgie. It’s fate. It’s serendipity.”
The Sweet Smell of Magnolias and Memories Page 13