Southern Charmed

by Melanie Jacobson

  The guys in the control room killed every light but the spotlight shining on her, and the audience went crazy. Mom wiped her eyes before applauding, and Kate just kept saying “Wow, wow, wow” as she clapped. People were climbing to their feet to cheer, and the applause rolled toward Kiana in a wave of sound. Her jaw dropped slightly as she took it in, more and more people rising to their feet. A smile peeked out for a second before her expression crumbled and she dropped her head into her hands.

  “Bless her heart, is she okay?” Mom called over the audience thunder.

  I nodded. “I don’t think anyone’s ever given her so much at once. I’m going to go check on her.”

  Mom nodded and leaned over to explain to Kate while I slipped into the aisle and out to the hallway to make my way to the wings. Kiana was barely coming off the stage, and I held out my arms so she could walk into them. “You did it,” I said, the applause still thundering. “They want you to do an encore.”

  “How do I do that?”

  “Go out and take another bow.” I turned her by the shoulders and gave her a push. She cast me an uncertain look, and I nodded. She stepped back out, and the applause surged. This time she grinned and waved, bowed a couple more times, and ran back to me. Jamarcus was working the curtains, and as he drew them closed, Sadie and Tasha ran out to get the set. Kiana’s brother had run her laptop and projector, and they’d all practiced until they could each set up and take down their part of the show in ninety seconds flat. “I need to get out of the way back here, but I’ll see you after the show.” I gave her another quick hug and headed back to my seat for the last time. Four people still stood clapping, and I recognized her grandmother and little brothers. They kept clapping until the next presenter was announced.

  It’d been an expensive night on a teacher’s salary, almost a hundred dollars in tickets to get all these people here, but it was so worth it for Kiana to feel the support she deserved. I didn’t mind a single ticket I’d bought—except for one.

  Max’s absence at church had surprised me, his absence at dinner had made me sad, but his absence on Kiana’s night infuriated me. I pulled my cell phone out as I sat down and sent him a terse text. You owe me $10.

  Maybe he’d realize it had been for the ticket to see Kiana and feel like the worm he was for missing it. I kept my phone in my hand through the remaining six presentations, but it never went off.

  I understood avoiding me, but Kiana hadn’t deserved to be shut out because Max and I had broken past fixing. He may as well have ground my last bits of hope beneath his heel.

  After the last presentation, the emcee announced a brief intermission so the judges could make their determination. It was Kiana’s to lose. No one could touch her. The presenters all came down to the audience to wait for the results in their reserved section, and Kiana stopped by my seat. “Mr. Archer asked me to give you this,” she said, handing me a ten-dollar bill. I whipped my head around. “Where is he?”

  “He had to go,” she said. “He didn’t tell you he was leaving?”

  She’d be even more shocked to hear he’d never told me he was here. “No, but thanks for passing along the message. Better get to your seat,” I added as the lights dimmed in warning. “Looks like they’re fixing to announce the winners.”

  Her expression went blank, her familiar I-don’t-care face, and before I could tell her not to stress because I was sure she’d won, she was already moving down the aisle at a sauntering, indifferent pace toward her seat. The emcee stood again and thanked everyone, introduced the chapter president from the Kiwanis Club, who gave a short speech, and then cleared his throat. I could see Kiana’s shoulders tense from ten rows back.

  “Third runner up is ‘The Myth of the Red Stick’ by Patrick Bordelon, Catholic High School. Second runner up is ‘St. Denis and White Chief in Dialogue’ by Whitney Nguyen, Baton Rough High School.”

  This time Kiana’s shoulders slumped. She thought she’d lost.

  “The winner of the five-hundred-dollar grand prize and the privilege of representing Baton Rouge at the state level is Kiana Green, Lincoln High School.”

  The room exploded again, and Kiana spun around in her seat to stare at me, her mouth half open. I laughed and waved for her to go onstage to accept her trophy and check. “That’s you,” I mouthed, pointing. “Go, go!” And watching her float up the steps, tugging on the hem of her shirt like she was making sure it was real and she was there, not dreaming, I escaped Max’s oppressive weight for a few precious moments.

  Chapter 29

  Max didn’t text. Or call. But Thursday morning, I woke up to an e-mail.

  To: Lila

  From: Max

  Subject: Excuses

  Hey. I’m sorry I’ve been MIA. I don’t know how to deal with what’s going on between you and me, so I’ve stayed away, thinking maybe that would save us both some heartache. I had to go to Houston this past weekend so I could find a new apartment, and I need to go back this weekend so I can sign a lease and pick out some rental furniture and all that stuff. I’d put it off, but I’m supposed to start in the Houston office a week from tomorrow, and I just want to have as much settled as I can before I do that.

  Sorry I didn’t say hi on Tuesday at Kiana’s program. It’s hard. That’s all. I don’t have any good excuses.

  I don’t know why I’m telling you this. Sorry it didn’t work out.

  Max

  I sat up in bed and read the e-mail again, trying to process what I was seeing. I had to go to Houston so I could find a new apartment. The words made me want to throw up. He needed to stay. I needed him to stay. I needed him, period. And even knowing all of that, he could still leave.

  To: Max

  From: Lila

  RE: Excuses

  I’m thankful that you showed up for Kiana, but I hate that you can’t do it for me. Don’t give up yet.

  ~L

  I didn’t know why I said it. I shifted uneasily against my pillows. I didn’t want to give him false hope, but the guilt was nothing compared to the sense of wrongness that the thought of letting go gave me.

  He lit up my caller ID a minute later, but I deferred the call. He followed up with a text. Please talk to me, Lila.

  That one I answered. Let me think. And pray. A lot, probably.

  I dressed for work, and besides first period, where the class tried to convince me to spend the whole time celebrating Kiana’s win, I robot-walked through my day. I drove home and fought a bone-deep weariness all the way. This was what had tried to overtake me after Dad had died. This was what had drowned Mom from the second he’d stopped breathing.

  Friday was only tolerable because I got an e-mail with directions from the Kiwanis Club for the state competition: it would be at the old state capitol in three weeks.

  After work, I walked into a wall of familiar scents and sounds at home. Mom was cooking up shrimp, and Brother Lewis’s low voice rumbled over the sound of Harry Connick Jr’s first album playing on the iPod. Mom’s laugh spilled out of the kitchen, then trailed off, and I sighed. Bridger must be giving them one of his surly looks. He’d gotten better, but he was still a teenager, and he couldn’t let go of all his attitude, or it would shake the balance in the universe.

  I wanted nothing more than to drag myself upstairs, but I decided to run interference between Bridger and the grown-ups for Mom’s sake. I turned to the kitchen and froze in the doorway. There was no Bridger in sight, only Mom wrapped in Brother Lewis’s arms, kissing him.

  I gasped, and they broke apart.

  Mom’s hand flew to her mouth. “Lila Mae.”

  “Sorry,” I said, not knowing what else to say before I whirled and headed for my room like I should have done when I got home. I lay on my bed and stared at the ceiling, not even sure how to handle all the emotional input of the last two weeks. A few minutes later, Mom knocked and let herself in.

  “Hi, honey.”

  “Hey, Mom.

  “You don’t sound mad.”

>   “I’m not mad.”

  “Then how are you feeling?”

  “I have no idea. Numb.”

  She walked to my bed and sat at the foot of it. “Are you disappointed?”

  “About you and Brother Lewis? No. I don’t know what I feel. I’m not upset. It’s just weird.”

  “Because he’s not Daddy.”

  “Because he’s not Daddy.”

  She plucked at the blanket a few times. “I thought you knew how things were going with us, but when I saw your face in the kitchen, I realized you’ve had no idea. I should have been more direct with you, but I couldn’t figure out how to bring it up.”

  “It’s front and center now.” I scooted up so I was leaning against my headboard and grabbed a pillow to hug to my chest, like it was going to anchor me in place while the ground beneath me floated away. “What do you want to say?”

  “I like him.” She took a deep breath. “I’ve been worried you would hate the idea of me dating again. Or, at the very least, be uncomfortable with it. I’m so sorry I didn’t sit down and talk this out with you.”

  “I don’t hate the idea of you dating, but it was super uncomfortable to walk in on you making out with Brother Lewis.”

  “Lila Mae!” Her cheeks turned pink. “Don’t be tacky. We were not making out.”

  “I would have thought it was weird even if it was Daddy. Kids don’t like to think of their parents kissing for any reason.”

  “Especially when your mom is kissing someone you’re not used to?”

  “Especially then.”

  She nodded and went back to plucking at the blanket, her gaze far away. I hadn’t seen that distant look in her eyes for several weeks.

  “You okay, Mama?”

  She blinked at me. “Yes, sweetie. Just missing your dad.”

  I felt guilty for being glad to hear that, but I pressed anyway. “Even with Brother Lewis?”

  “Yes. And he misses his Debbie too. But I don’t love your father any less because I’m enjoying my time with Coleman. Nothing could make me love Jim less.”

  “Where is this going with Brother Lewis, do you think?”

  “I don’t think either of us is in a rush to figure it out. Especially not me. I have too much on my plate. Did I tell you I scheduled new classes at the shelter? And Loralee Hilldean wants me to do her daughter’s wedding.”

  “Wow. Are you up for that?” Loralee Hilldean was on the society pages of the The Advocate at least twice a month.

  Mom’s eyebrows shot up. “Have I been so out of it lately that you think I can’t handle it?”

  “You’ve been out of it since Daddy died. But yes,” I said, testing the words to make sure I spoke the truth. “Yes, I think you can handle it. I know who I got my grit from.”

  “You’ve been so patient. But I’m here now. I promise. I’m not going to disappear on you. All the worst holes in my heart are knitting back together. I’ll be fine.” The idea that her heart was whole made me burst into tears. “Oh no, oh, sweetie, what’s wrong?” she crooned, even as she pulled me into her arms.

  “I’m a mess. I don’t know.” But I did know. I was so happy to see her coming back to me, but the fact that my heart was in tatters struck me again with a new ache. “I’m glad you’re going to be okay,” I finally managed to sniffle into her neck.

  “I am.” She rubbed my back for a while and then leaned back to hold my face between her palms. “I’m going to be okay, and you are too. I have faith.”

  “Mom? If I went to Houston, would it break your heart?”

  “It seems to me your heart is broken right now, and that’s what’s breaking mine at the moment. I know you’ve been worrying over me, but it’s my turn to fuss over you. Baby girl, you’re meant to be with Max. If you’re saying no to him for my sake, don’t. I’ll hate it if you leave, but at this point, I’m going to hate it more if you stay.” She hugged and rocked me for a few more minutes before she kissed my head and stood. “I need to go check on Coleman and make sure he’s recovered from his shock.”

  I picked up my phone when she left and pulled up Max’s number, hesitating before opening a text. I’m doing my best to change my mind, but it’s so hard to think about leaving. I need to spend a couple of weeks trying to say goodbye to this place before I know if I can do it for real.

  His response was immediate. What can I do to make this better?

  I gave a laugh-sob. Be a less ambitious, talented guy who didn’t get promoted? But that wasn’t Max’s character, and I knew that above all, this decision had to be mine alone, without any persuasion from him so I could never hold it against him in the future. If we still had one. If I could see it his way. If I could learn to see my daydreams coming true somewhere else.

  I sighed and answered him. I need to survive the end of school. I need space, but I promise I will think about this constantly. I’m going to try to make this work. I promise. I hit send and waited for his answer. It was almost an hour before it came.

  Okay. I love you.

  It only made me cry again.

  Chapter 30

  “Miss Guidry, did I do something to make Mr. Archer mad?”

  I froze until I was sure I could dig into this with Kiana without crying. I’d made a decision, but I couldn’t think about it until school was done next week. I drummed my fingers against a stack of papers on my desk. “Of course not. Why would you think that?”

  “He e-mailed and said he can’t come tomorrow night.”

  She meant her scholarship competition. “I’m sure he’d come if he could, Kiana. But he’s in Houston.”

  “It’s okay. But you’re bringing your mom and your friend again, right? I need my audience.”

  “I’m bringing them, plus a couple of extra,” I promised. Brother Lewis had surprised me the night before by asking if he and Bridger could come. Even Bridger had looked interested, so Brother Lewis had gotten them tickets.

  “All right. See you in the morning. You for real going to make me take my final?”

  “Yes, for real. We’re reviewing in class tomorrow.”

  “You mean playing games? I’m down.”

  “They’re games with a point.”

  “No complaints here. See you in the morning.”

  I managed not to cry until I got home, where I watched a home-flipping episode that happened to be filmed in Baton Rouge, and it set me off. I needed to be with Max, but I needed to feel how hard it would be to leave these roots of mine behind if I was going to tell him yes with any conviction, so I watched every second of the show, listening to the familiar accents and devouring the familiar scenery. I went to sleep with cucumbers on my eyes to bring down the puffiness, and when I got up Friday morning, it seemed to have worked. That was good because if the cucumbers hadn’t worked, I’d have had to use Kate’s old pageant trick of putting Preparation H on any telltale bags.

  First period looked more like sugared-up kindergartners than high school juniors. After the fifth time of threatening to shut down the final-review version of Jeopardy! and give them worksheets instead, I dropped one of their history textbooks on my desk with a satisfying boom. “What has gotten into y’all? You need to straighten up and fly right.”

  “Sorry, Miss Guidry,” Chauncy Tremonton called. “We’re excited for Kiana’s thing tonight. Hard to concentrate.”

  “You’re going?”

  “Yeah,” he said, and a number of kids echoed him.

  “Wait, raise your hands if you’re going to be at Kiana’s competition.”

  “Oh, we wouldn’t miss this,” Jamarcus said, grinning, and Tasha Miller smacked his arm.

  Kiana looked uncomfortable. “Can we do the review, please?”

  I nodded and put up the next question, but I held on tight to the feeling of being full of happy tears for the first time in a long time.

  Kiana stopped by on her way home after school. “What you wearing tonight, Miss Guidry?”

  I blinked at her. “I don’t know. A dr
ess, I guess.”

  She looked down at the ground. “You think I can win?”

  “I know you will.”

  She nodded and looked up but past my shoulder, not meeting my eyes. “If I win, I’m going to call you up with me. If you really think I can do this, maybe you could wear something extra nice.”

  She was making herself more vulnerable than she’d ever allowed herself to be, asking something from me for the first time of her own free will. Darn those happy tears again. “I’ll wear my nicest dress, Kiana. I’m that sure.”

  She smiled, but it wobbled. “I got this?”

  “You got this.”

  I hesitated to ask my next question, but I wanted to be sure there wasn’t anything more I could do. “Is your mom coming this time?”

  She smiled, a tiny crescent full of sadness and relief. “She took off again. It’s been quiet without her. And good. I would worry too much if she was there.”

  “You sure?”

  Her smiled grew a little bigger. “I’m sure. I got who I need.” She waved and left, and I packed up, knowing I would be too on-edge to concentrate until she held the grand-prize trophy.

  I killed time with Mom in the garden for a couple of hours before she shooed me off to get ready. Up in my room, I hesitated before I pulled out the lace dress I’d worn on the night when everything had gone wrong with Max. It was the nicest one I had, and Kiana deserved that.

  I managed a few big, loose curls in my hair and went downstairs to find Brother Lewis working a Sudoku book next to Mom while she embroidered. It was still weird to see him there, but it didn’t stir up any bad feelings for me, and that was a good step. Bridger was busy on his phone, but he nodded at me when I walked in.

  “I’m going over early to help Kiana. See y’all there.”

  At the Old State Capitol, the parking lot already buzzed with parents and contestants in everything from Sunday best to costumes, all streaming toward the check-in table in the grand lobby beneath a gorgeous stained-glass ceiling. I verified that Kiana hadn’t shown up yet, and I waited for her, but it didn’t take long.