Under The Magnolia

by Kelsey Soliz

was depression, Theo kept trying to come up with ways to help me through.

  At some point I mentioned I used to like drawing, so we tried that. The

  problem is that those lines are too small for me to see. So, I needed

  something bigger.

  We tried big canvases and thick charcoals, and that is something I love to

  do, too. But being able to mix up colors and put them exactly how I see the

  world is kind of freeing. Showing people what I see makes me feel like I

  matter, makes me feel like I can maybe relate to somebody else out there

  somehow, that maybe I can connect with them through something I make.

  “Which one?”

  “It was that one of the magnolia tree you painted a few weeks back. The

  one with the giant bloom off center?”

  Hm. Don’t know why anybody would want something that simple.

  “Why do you look confused? What’s your happy?”

  He is still kneeling in front of me, at an absurdly close distance, but that’s

  the only way I can even sort of see his pretty face. He keeps facial hair

  because I like feeling the texture with my fingers, and his golden-brown

  hair is away from his face.

  “Who bought it?”

  “This guy I work with. Said it reminded him of home.”

  That hits me in the gut. In the south though, there are Magnolia trees

  everywhere. People from this town see them all over the place, so it’s pretty

  narrow-minded of me to assume that one of my boys just bought some of

  my art.

  “Hm. Okay. Happy? Your mother came for a visit with Ms. Lynn.”

  “How was she today?”

  “She was…in a good mood. She tried to make sweet tea for us, but she

  confused the salt for the sugar. I didn’t want to be impolite, so I had to drink

  an entire glass of salted tea. I don’t know how she didn’t taste the

  difference.”

  Theo laughs his big, booming laugh that warms me up. “You’re too nice

  for your own good. I can’t imagine how awful that must have tasted.”

  I shrug. “Easy price to pay to make someone happy. She was so proud of

  herself for making it alone.”

  Theo’s mom struggles with dementia. She lives alone with a caretaker

  nearby and likes to come visit with me. She’s about the only other person I

  get to speak with during the week, so I always look forward to seeing her.

  Even if she does get up to trouble.

  “You have a date tonight, right?”

  “Oh, do I?”

  “You said you did.”

  I narrow my eyes at him. It’s kind of weird that a single guy lives with a

  twenty-year-old female, but he refuses to let me move out. Sure, I could go

  above his head and just leave, but I have come to depend on him way too

  much and he says he’s happy to have me here.

  His place is small, but it’s cozy and it’s home now. I’ve been pushing him

  to meet women, because it’s not healthy for a young, attractive man like

  himself to spend so much time at home. He should be getting out and

  having fun, not worrying about me. My worst fear is that I hold him back

  from becoming who he’s supposed to be or that he’ll miss out on something

  big.

  “Right…I guess I’ll go shower then.”

  He leaves me to clean up as best I can, following my routines as I put all

  my things away for the night. When I first woke up from the fire, I was

  terrified I’d forever be completely dependent on someone else for

  everything.

  Truth is, there’s so many amazing devices and technology to assist those

  that are hard of sight, so although it took an incredible learning curve to

  figure everything out, I can do pretty much everything I need to do on my

  own. Not that I always want to, but I’m slowly gaining my independence.

  I’m not sure what will happen when Theo finally meets someone he

  wants to continue seeing, when he falls in love and wants her to move in. I

  know I’m on a limited time frame here, but as long as he insists he liked

  having me here, I’d stay.

  Theo

  I don’t know why I told her I have a date, but I wish she’d stop

  remembering when I did tell her. I don’t have a fucking date. But if I told

  her that, she’d ask why. And then I’d have to tell her that I can’t even think

  about looking at another woman because she’s all I see. All I’ve been able

  to see since I took her home with me two years ago.

  I hate how hard she is on herself, how she doesn’t see herself as a viable

  option for a partner. Anytime things start to get even slightly more than

  platonic, she makes awkward jokes and changes the subject or leaves the

  room. Eventually, she’ll realize that she’s worthy of affection. That she isn’t

  broken or ruined or useless. Hell, maybe I’d even convince her that she’s

  still beautiful.

  I go through the motions, picking out what I’d wear if I was taking her

  out. I know she wouldn’t see much of it, but just knowing I’d put thought

  into my appearance would make her happy. She’d let me take her to a nice

  dinner and we’d eat way too much. We’d stay up too late talking about

  anything and everything and maybe she’d let me kiss her.

  My co-workers thought I was losing my mind. They couldn’t understand

  how I could be so in love with someone that doesn’t have a clue and not get

  angry about it or demand attention. But how could I not love her? The way

  she sees the world after everything it’s put her through never ceases to

  amaze me.

  She thinks the most of everyone else yet believes she doesn’t deserve the

  same respect. Date. More like I was going to dress up, tell her goodbye,

  then pick up a pizza so I could go park somewhere quiet and waste time on

  Netflix or something until an acceptable amount of time had passed.

  She thinks I go on dates a few times a month, and every time it’s the

  same thing. A total fake-out. It should hurt that she doesn’t jealous at the

  thought of me with another woman, but I know she doesn’t think she’ll ever

  be worthy of that kind of attention again.

  I wish I could find those boys that haunt her, convince her to let them

  back in her life. I hear her calling for them nearly every night in her sleep,

  see the ghosts of their memories in her art. Sometimes she’ll go quiet and

  just stare off, and I know she’s thinking about them.

  The decision to talk to them again has to come from her, though. If I push

  her, it won’t work. She’s made amazing strides in the few years since the

  accident, but she has a lifetime of bad to make up for. I like to think she’s

  finally at least a little happy living with me. From what she’s told me, she’s

  never had that. And that fucking kills me.

  Her soul is so pure that when she smiles, I want to just wrap her up and

  steal her away from everyone else. I also have a feeling that she would

  never be ready to see my love for the vastness it really is until she’s made

  peace with her past.

  Amelia has never had any closure. For all I know, they’re out there

  looking for her, planning their life out together with her while she gets

  stronger. At this point, I’m sure they don’t know about the fire. Or if they
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  do, they don’t realize she made it through. There’s no other way that

  anybody that truly knew Amelia could abandon her when she was in the

  state that fire left her.

  Sometimes I get this raging anger in me because she still belongs to

  them, but then other times I tell myself she has to belong to me, too, right?

  She’s here, she lets me keep her safe. That has to mean something. If those

  three guys ever came back and pledged their devotion, I’d beg with the rest

  of them for her to keep me, as well.

  I don’t know them, but I do. Amelia has talked about them so much in

  therapy that I’m sure I could nearly write a biography on them. She’s even

  started smiling when it happens. I love that she’s allowed herself that

  window to her past finally, and it seems to be helping her to heal. Or maybe

  I could write a novel on the way she looks when she’s lost to those happy

  memories. I’m glad that she has at least that from her past to keep her

  moving. Some days, I wasn’t sure she’d make it through. I’ve never seen

  someone so broken before, but she’s a fighter.

  I’d have to get along with them, because I can no longer see a future

  Amelia isn’t in. If it has to include three other guys that want to love her

  and care for her, who am I to deny her? If it makes her happy, I can’t be

  mad. Until then, I’ll keep steady and go on these ‘dates’ so she doesn’t get

  suspicious. I’ll keep loving her and caring for her, until she realizes what

  my words and actions actually mean and can reciprocate them.

  Cameron

  I’m staring at the painting that Alex carted in last week, mesmerized. I

  don’t know how many hours we all spent inside the branches of that

  magnolia tree, but this painting pretty much sums it up. There are no clean-

  cut leaves or borders, but the colors, the feeling poured into the swirls of

  color are pure nostalgia.

  I’m staring at the artist’s signature in the bottom corner, trying to read it.

  It’s not the precise lettering of most names you see on art, looking more like

  symbols than letters, but something about the way it was carefully thrown

  onto the canvas begs me to look closer.

  “Strange, huh?”

  I nod as Constantine sinks onto the couch next to me, eyeing the art as

  well now.

  “Alex didn’t say anything about the artist?”

  “Nah, somebody he works with at the station sold it to him. His

  roommate painted it or something, but he didn’t ask for any details about

  him. You know how he is.”

  That pretty much summed up Alex. You know how he is. After we lost

  Amelia in that fire, he’s been cold and impersonal. I was shocked when he

  brought this home because it seemed a little impulsive, but when I realized

  it was a magnolia tree, I understood immediately. It reminded him of her.

  Stupid, how after two years we’re all still as hung up on her as we were

  when she died. We saw her mere hours before she was locked in that room

  and ripped from us, and that knowledge alone is enough to keep us all as

  hermits. She was our everything.

  With all the shit between us, we never got to explore anything. I had that

  one, perfect time with her when we were kids, and then everything went to

  hell. She changed my soul, and I’m not convinced any of us will ever truly

  get over her.

  Alex can try and pick up women every weekend, Constantine can bury

  himself in the garage fixing up bikes, I can kill myself with farm work until

  my hands bleed and my legs want to collapse, but at the end of the day, it’s

  still her smile I still fall asleep to. Her body I still reach out for.

  “Weird. Anyway, you gonna go to the funeral for Sophie’s aunt

  tomorrow?”

  “Kind of feel like a jerk if I don’t. I know I’m not the one that dated her,

  but we were still kind of friends. I’m sure Alex would appreciate the

  backup too, they’re not on the greatest terms right now.”

  Constantine snorts. “Because she’s a total bitch. I don’t know how the

  fuck he ever got it up to touch her.”

  Alex and Sophie. Pretty sure I’ve thrown up a few times just thinking

  about that combo. Make no mistake, Alex was completely in love with

  Amelia. When she disappeared, though, he fell for Sophie’s fake charm

  hook, line, and sinker. Not right away, but after a year or so with no

  interaction, with Sophie feeding him shit about how Amelia didn’t want to

  see us anymore, I think he got sick of hurting.

  They were mercurial. Fighting constantly, then fucking, then back to

  screaming. She wasn’t unattractive, I’d give her that, but she just always

  seemed…off to me. I could never believe a word she said, especially with

  how she always seemed to obsess over details of her cousin.

  As far as I knew Alex was really done with Sophie this time, but I

  wouldn’t be surprised to see them hooking up somewhere just because they

  could. Really, Amelia was gone. We hardly even had a real claim to her, so

  I’m not sure why it still makes me angry when I think of any of us with

  someone new. It just doesn’t compute for me.

  Constantine has picked up a girl here and there since Amelia’s accident,

  but like me, he’s not ready to open up to anyone else.

  “I just wish…”

  “That everything was different? That the perfect woman didn’t have to

  die in some stupid ass fire? I still think it’s suspicious that Sophie’s Aunt

  wasn’t around for the fire.”

  There had been a big investigation after the fire, but Sophie’s aunt had an

  alibi. No way that Amelia would have locked herself in that room, though.

  She had been through shit, but she wasn’t that kind of person. Sophie and

  her Aunt always insisted otherwise. Said she chose to go and took the house

  with her. I say it’s bullshit.

  But since we’re not family, we can’t really get any other details. We have

  been forced to depend on what Sophie says about it all, and deal with her

  tears, that I’m sure were manufactured for sympathy. She barely even knew

  her cousin, as far as I knew.

  “You know that, and I know that, but either her Aunt had someone at the

  police station in her pocket, or she really was innocent. She was kind of

  awful as far as human beings go, but I don’t want to believe she could have

  murdered her own niece.”

  Constantine grunts at this, his eyes lost to forbidden memories for a bit as

  we both think about what Amelia must have felt in those last minutes. How

  scared she must have been, how badly it hurt. Did she think about us?

  When she realized she wasn’t getting out, did she conjure our faces and find

  comfort?

  “Let’s go. We can’t sit here all night and keep living the nightmares.

  Amelia would be pissed if she saw us.”

  “Where we going?”

  “Alex has a buddy from work, the guy that sold him the painting, invited

  us out for some drinks.”

  We weren’t quite 21 yet, but there was this local tavern that didn’t really

  care as long as we didn’t cause problems.

  Alex

  Theo had asked me several times to come hang out
after a shift, but for

  some reason I’d just always turned him down. He seemed like an okay guy,

  and I was pretty sure he kept asking because I was kind of a loner at the

  station. Maybe he saw some of my demons, and thought I was a charity

  case. Either way, I needed an excuse tonight.

  Sophie had been all whiny, which I guess is expected since her mom just

  died, but we weren’t together anymore and maybe it made me a total

  asshole, but honestly, I didn’t really care. When I think of her mom, all I

  can see is that look of disgust she had on her face when she told us all that

  Amelia was moving away to boarding school.

  I’m not supposed to keep thinking about her, but it’s like I just can’t even

  stop it. Maybe the fact that Amelia should have been going to this funeral,

  that it concerns her family, is stirring things up so her memory tortures me

  more than normal. I didn’t want to go to the funeral, but I felt I kind of

  owed it to Amelia. Yes, I realize she’s not alive.

  I clung to the toxic relationship with her cousin though, because I wanted

  any piece of Amelia left behind. Fucked up, I know. I never really believed

  any of the bullshit that Sophie liked to feed us, I saw through her Aunt’s

  judgement and knew that’s where the vitriol was really stemming from. I

  pretended real well though to make nice with Sophie.

  I walk through the bar doors, nodding at the bartender that never IDs me,

  and slide into the booth where Constantine and Cameron are already at.

  Their pitcher of beer is ready for a refill, but they don’t look any happier for

  it. I thought beer was supposed to make you happy?

  “Hey man.”

  “Hey, glad you guys could make it out. Sophie has been texting me all

  day, begging to see me and I just…couldn’t.”

  “Just glad you finally shut her down and wised up.”

  Constantine has barely ever even tried to like Sophie, but I wasn’t going

  to try and convince him otherwise. I knew she was not a nice girl.

  “Yeah, well.”

  Theo walks in then, nodding at me before sliding into the booth with us.

  “Theo, these are my guys, Cameron and Constantine. Guys, this is Theo.

  He was one of my mentors when I started working at the fire station last

  year.”

  They all give each other a nod, because we’re men and we can’t act too