Magnolia Bay Memories

by Babette de Jongh

  Sipping the tea he’d made, Adrian looked out the kitchen window toward the barn. Rain still pelted down in sheets, but it poured off the roof in a torrent, which made it clear that the gutters were clogged.

  Another task—like horse care—that if Heather was aware of it, she didn’t know how to do it or was so overwhelmed with everything else that it had slipped far down the to-do list. Next time he came, he would take care of that. Preferably when Heather wasn’t here to know about it because even though he wanted to help, he didn’t want to get involved.

  The washing machine made churning noises from the laundry room. Adrian took his tea and wandered into the beige-carpeted family room next to the kitchen.

  Jasper followed him, step for step. Quiet and unassuming but definitely on it should Adrian want to give him some affection or send him on a mission, Jasper stayed glued to his side. Thunder boomed, and Jasper whined, sending a worried glance toward the shaded windows where flickers of light bloomed along the shades’ edges.

  A wall of dark-stained bookshelves held a multitude of books but even more pictures. Framed photographs of family vacations and memorable moments marched in rows, standing guard in front of forgotten books that had been pushed back to the wall.

  Ski vacations.

  Beach vacations.

  School events.

  Rodeo competitions.

  Ballet recitals.

  Birthdays.

  Babies’ first steps.

  All over again, Adrian felt like a bully for criticizing Heather for the way she handled the mess her life had become in one hot minute of misfortune. Charlie had suffered, yes. But he had suffered right along with the rest of the family, even though he’d been a step removed, all by himself in the barn.

  Adrian’s mind flashed back to the chaos leading up to Hurricane Katrina.

  After sending the horse on a transport and leaving the AWOL cat behind to fend for himself, the family had piled into the car and crept out of town at a snail’s pace along with thousands of evacuees, the windows rolled down and the AC turned off to conserve fuel. Adrian and his parents had taken turns driving north on packed roads in stop-and-go traffic in search of a motel with two vacant rooms. Finally, after nearly two days of nonstop driving, they found a place where the family could hunker down in anticipation of heading back home as soon as possible.

  That was bad enough, but the aftermath was even worse, with his family fractured and staying with different relatives for the better part of a year. He knew how Charlie felt, being stuck some distance away from the rest of the family, navigating a deep sense of loss without their support. Adrian hadn’t blamed his parents; they’d done the best they could. The situation was what it was, with everyone struggling. A lot of people—and animals—had fared a lot worse. Adrian was lucky that his parents had an extended family network to reach out to for help.

  Heather hadn’t, yet she had managed to preserve a sense of continuity for her kids.

  Adrian walked through the downstairs living area of the immaculate house, looking at all the photos and mementos. This house was filled with reminders—if reminders were necessary—of why Adrian had no business getting involved with Heather.

  Not that he was considering it because he wasn’t. A ready-made family wouldn’t fit in with Adrian’s lifestyle, which he had crafted specifically to avoid all but the most superficial emotional entanglements. The right woman might come along one day to change his mind, sure. When he was old enough to see his own mortality staring him in the face, he’d probably want someone to share his eventual decline into senility.

  Did he want to exchange his freedom to pick up and go anywhere, anytime, for life with Heather and her kids? No.

  Did he want to exchange his ability to spend the money he earned in whatever way he chose for the kitchen-table talks he’d seen his parents have over which bills to pay and which to defer? No.

  Did he want to exchange ski weeks in Switzerland or beach weeks in Portugal for family vacations to Yellowstone Park in a camper van? No. (Although he did have to admit that Yellowstone was beautiful, and it seemed from the photos on the bookshelves that Heather and the kids hadn’t yet been there.)

  The big question, the one he refused to ask himself, let alone try to answer, was whether he dared to act on his attraction to Heather, given the risk of turning his life—and Heather’s life and her kids’ lives—upside down.

  “No,” he said out loud. Definitely, positively “no.”

  Jasper whined, and Adrian reached down to pet the dog’s head. “I wasn’t talking to you,” he said, giving the dog another reassuring pat. “You’re a good dog.”

  With Jasper at his side, Adrian padded barefoot through the quiet kitchen to the laundry room, where he moved his clothes from the washer to the dryer. At the sound of the garage door squeaking open, Jasper barked and ran for the back door.

  “Ade!” Josh’s excited voice echoed through the short hallway between the garage and the mudroom. “Where are you?”

  He slammed the dryer door and got it running. “In here, Josh.”

  Tennis shoes squeaked on the tile floor, and Adrian turned in time to intercept the tackle as Josh leaped into his arms for an exuberant hug. “You came!” Josh’s thin arms squeezed Adrian’s neck with choking force while one narrow shoulder dug into his Adam’s apple.

  “Ack,” he croaked, unwinding Josh’s arms. “Hey, buddy.” He peeled the kid off him and set him on the floor. The dog, who’d been calmly following Adrian through the house for almost an hour, was now leaping and slobbering with excitement. With Josh’s arrival, the energy of the house changed drastically. Before, it had been a quiet shrine; now it was bursting with hectic energy. “How was school?”

  “Great!” Josh bounced around for a few seconds, then grabbed Adrian’s hand and dragged him into the kitchen. “I didn’t get in trouble at all today.”

  “That’s awesome. Congratulations.”

  As agile as a little monkey, Josh climbed onto the kitchen counter and took down a huge ceramic bowl from the cabinet above.

  “Can I help?”

  “Nope. I’ve got it.” Josh scrambled down from the counter. “Mom said I could make popcorn and we can watch a movie while she cooks dinner.” He zipped into the pantry and yelled from its depths. “She’s making cheesy bread, even though it isn’t Friday. I told her you’d want that, since we talked about it.”

  The kid came out of the pantry closet with his arms full (popcorn popping machine, olive oil, and a jumbo-sized jar of popcorn kernels), but Adrian had figured out by now that the best thing to do was just stand back and watch while Josh fulfilled his mission. Adrian put his empty tea mug in the sink and leaned his butt against the kitchen counter. “Let me know if you need any help.”

  “No, thank you.” Josh set the popcorn machine on the island and hopped up to belly-surf on the counter long enough to plug in the cord. “I do this all the time.”

  “Where’s your mom?”

  “All the girls went out to the barn to see Charlie. It isn’t raining anymore, so Mom said she’s gonna let him out into the field for a while.”

  “That’s good.” It sounded like Heather was getting more comfortable around Charlie. The long night of the horse’s bout with colic had broken down some barriers. “Maybe I should go help.”

  “No!” Josh paused in pouring seeds into the popper, his pale brows drawn together in a frown. “The girls are doing that. Us guys are gonna make popcorn and decide which movie to watch.”

  “Okay, fine.” Adrian felt duly chastised for even thinking of deviating from Josh’s master plan. “But I’m not good at lounging, so what do you need me to do?”

  “Ummm…” Josh bit his lip, thinking. Then his face brightened. “Drinks! Glasses are up there…” He pointed at one of the cupboard doors. “Sodas are in the pantry. We are allowed to have o
ne each. That’s the rule.”

  The back door slammed, and a second later, Erin breezed past the kitchen on her way upstairs. Backpack slung over one shoulder, her face in her phone, she didn’t look up or sideways.

  “Hello,” Adrian said, testing the kid’s emotional temperature. Was she pissed off that he was here or just focused on what she was doing?

  She stopped, glanced around. “Oh, hey. I have a ton of homework to do. See you at dinner.”

  “Okay.” Adrian relaxed. He hadn’t realized he’d been tense until that moment. But now, he had to admit that he’d been halfway worried he might be subjected to some teenage angst. “Two down, one to go,” he muttered under his breath while he filled two glasses with ice. Another thing he hadn’t realized till just now: Kids scared him.

  ***

  Caroline sat on the kitchen counter, swinging her feet while Heather cooked dinner. “Please stop bashing the cabinet with your heels,” Heather said for the third time. “Are you sure you don’t want to go in the den and watch TV with Josh and Adrian?” Heather could hear Josh talking nonstop, but she couldn’t make out the words over the sound of the Iron Man movie playing on TV. She could tell that the only time Josh stopped talking was to draw enough breath to fuel the next torrent of words.

  Poor Adrian. She’d have to make it up to him somehow.

  “I wanted to watch Dr. Dolittle,” Caroline whined. “But Josh said they’d already picked Iron Man.” She kicked the counter again, light little bumps with her bare heels.

  Caroline wasn’t hurting anything, really, but the intermittent tapping sound was getting on Heather’s last nerve. She lowered the heat on the rice, then turned around and plucked Caroline off the counter. “I’ll watch Dr. Dolittle with you after dinner. I need you to butter the bread before I put it in the oven.”

  Heather helped Caroline wash her hands, then set her up with a footstool in front of the counter. Heather sliced the baguette lengthwise and laid it open on a parchment-lined cookie sheet. Then she gave Caroline a butter knife and the bowl of garlic-and-herb-infused butter she’d made earlier. “Make sure you get the butter into all the little holes.”

  That should keep Caroline busy and out of Heather’s hair—for about five minutes. If Heather had to keep herself sane five minutes at a time, that’s what she’d do. She opened a fresh bag of shredded cheese, poured some into a bowl, and set it on the counter beside Caroline. “When you’re done buttering, sprinkle this cheese on top.” It wasn’t spaghetti-and-cheesy-bread night, but since Josh was convinced it was important to Adrian, Heather agreed to make it to go with the baked salmon, jasmine rice, and steamed veggies. Not a perfect fit for the menu, maybe, but at least his stomach wouldn’t growl. “Spread it out thin, all the way to the edges.”

  So maybe she’d have seven minutes of peace instead of just five.

  She knew better than to try to encourage Caroline to go into the den with Adrian and Josh. Painfully shy at the best of times, Caroline just wasn’t capable of it. While Josh… She tuned her mom-radar to pick up the sounds coming from the den.

  Yep. Still talking.

  Poor Adrian. Maybe alcohol would help. She’d seen him drink beer with Quinn; maybe he would enjoy a glass of wine with dinner. She searched the pantry and didn’t have white wine to go with the fish, but she found an inexpensive bottle of red wine that she kept on hand in case of guests. “Better than nothing,” she said to herself. “Maybe.” Heather’s girlfriends weren’t too picky; most of them said that anything red would do. This wasn’t the kind they sold at the corner store, but not the kind you had to go to a specialty shop for either.

  Heather could tell by the way Adrian dressed and the car he drove that he probably drank the kind of wine you had to ask the wine department at Rousses to special-order. A certain extra-special something to go with the exact menu—which probably didn’t mix Italian cheesy bread with baked salmon.

  “If he complains about the wine,” she muttered to herself, “I’ll just hit him over the head with it.”

  She took the bottle to the den.

  Adrian looked up, and unexpectedly, Heather’s heart melted like candle wax to puddle at her feet. Adrian was darkly handsome with his thick, mahogany brown hair, dark-blue eyes, and forever-tanned skin. But what tugged at Heather’s heart was the way Adrian was sitting, slouched against the couch cushions with his hands crossed behind his head and his feet propped up on the ottoman.

  Josh sat cross-legged next to him, cradling a big bowl of popcorn in his lap. “Hey, Mom,” Josh yelled as if she were across the world instead of across the room. “We’re watching Iron Man.” He crammed a fistful of popcorn into his mouth and chewed, grinning so wide she could see every kernel.

  “I see that,” she answered with a smile. “And I know it might be too late for me to give you this advice, but please don’t scarf down so much of that popcorn that you can’t eat your dinner.”

  “I won’t,” he answered with his mouth so full that his cheeks puffed out like a chipmunk’s. “Ade ate a bunch of it already, didn’t you?”

  Ade. How cute. “Ade,” she said to Adrian with a smirk she couldn’t keep off her face. “Dinner’s almost ready.” She held up the bottle of red wine. “Shall I open this to go with?”

  “Yes, ma’am. Is there anything I can do to help?”

  “You’re doing it.” Josh hadn’t looked this happy in ages. “I’m about to set the table. Five-minute warning.”

  “Aw, Mooommmm,” Josh whined, sending her a dramatic, mortally wounded look of woe. “Pleeeease? The movie is almost over. Can’t we watch till the end?”

  Adrian pointed the receiver at the TV, showing that the time remaining wasn’t but about seven minutes anyway. “Aw, Mooommmm,” Adrian mimicked (but not unkindly). “Pleeeease?”

  She laughed. “Okay, fine. You boys watch the rest of the movie, then wash your hands and come to the table.” She got a little kick out of calling Adrian a boy and lumping him in the same category as Josh. But he’d started it, so she figured he could take it. She knew it for sure when he high-fived Josh over their victory, grabbed a handful of popcorn, and turned back to finish watching the movie.

  ***

  When the credits started rolling, Josh grabbed the remote and turned off the TV. “Come on, Ade.” Josh tossed the remote and pulled at Adrian’s arm. “Dinner’s ready, and you can sit next to me.”

  “That sounds great, Josh, but let’s see what your mom says about that first.” He followed Josh into the kitchen, where the mingled aromas of baked fish, garlic, and cheese filled the room.

  He looked over at Heather, who stood near the sink spooning cooked rice into a serving bowl. “Can I help with anything?”

  “Yeah, sure. Please pour the wine.” Heather plunked a spoon into the steaming bowl and carried it to the table. Jasper followed her, then collapsed under the table with a groan. “Y’all go ahead and sit. Josh, if you don’t mind, please let Adrian sit in your chair so he can sit between you and me.”

  “Okay, Mom.” Josh hopped into a chair next to the window and patted the seat next to him. “You still get to sit by me,” he said in a hushed tone, as if they were getting away with something.

  Adrian winked. “I’m glad.” And he was. Josh could be a bit exhausting, but other than that, he was easy to be around. Just about everything made him over-the-moon happy.

  Adrian poured a measure of wine into each of the two stemmed wineglasses. He swirled his wine in the crystal glass—good legs. Took a whiff: a nice-enough aroma for a wine that had probably come from the local grocery store. He took a sip: oaky, not too fruity, nice bite.

  Strange combo for the platter of baked salmon fillets surrounded by steamed veggies that Heather was bringing in from the kitchen, but he wasn’t a wine snob.

  When it came down to it, wine was wine, unless it was terrible.

  Caroline ca
me into the room, carrying two glasses of ice water as if they held nitroglycerin. Without a word, she walked around the table to set a glass next to Josh, then eased around Josh’s chair to slide the other glass close to Adrian.

  “Thank you, Caroline.” He kept his voice quiet, the way he’d done with the feral cat.

  She blushed and tucked her chin. “Welcome,” she whispered, then scuttled back into the kitchen.

  Heather brought the sauce and bread, while Caroline carefully carried two more water glasses to the table. As she went back for the final glass, Heather went to the foot of the stairs. “Erin,” she yelled. “Please don’t make me come up there and get you.”

  “I said, I’m coming,” he heard Erin yell back in a voice full of teenage rebellion. “I’m on the phone. Please start without me.”

  Heather came back, a look of apology on her face. “Let’s go ahead.” She sat at the end of the table between Adrian and Caroline, who sat across from him. “Erin will be down later.” She held her wineglass up and looked at Adrian with gratitude. “Thanks for helping with Charlie. It means so much to me, and I know it means even more to him.”

  He clinked his glass to hers. “It means a lot to me too. I didn’t know how much I missed riding until I got the chance to do it again.”

  They each took a sip of wine, looked into each other’s eyes and shared a moment of…well, he didn’t know, but before he could figure out what kind of moment it was, it was interrupted when Josh bounced in his chair, waving a fork. “Let’s eat! I’m starving.”

  Heather served Caroline, and Adrian took her cue to fill Josh’s plate. A cloth-lined wicker basket filled with chunks of cheesy bread got passed around. The sight and scent of the perfectly buttery and crusty bread made his mouth water. “This is amazing.” He set a piece of bread on the edge of his plate. “Y’all eat like this all the time?”