Magnolia Bay Memories

by Babette de Jongh

“He didn’t take him when he walked out.”

  “Great,” Reva said. “I guess I’ll find out what kind of mess that cat has become when I get back to my house.”

  “I guess you will,” Heather agreed. She shifted her focus to Abby. “I’m going to take Josh and Caroline home now. Do you think you could get Quinn to give Erin a ride home later? She wants to stay and help with the cleanup.”

  Abby nodded. “Sure. Or I’ll take her myself. No problem.”

  “Thank you. Come on, Caroline. It’s time to go.”

  Caroline popped up like one of those suction-cup frogs. “Okay, Mama.”

  As Heather walked away with the twins, Reva noticed how brittle she looked, as if she was barely holding herself together. Did Heather think this self-inflicted trauma was better than reaching out for the chance at happiness the universe held out to her? Reva shook her head. “I hope I’m never guilty of whacking a gift horse on the rump and telling it to get the hell away from me.”

  Sara sidled up to Reva and Abby. “What is going on?”

  “I’ve said too much already,” Reva said, “but you should give Heather a call later on. She’ll need a friend to talk to, and I’ve already tried. It’s someone else’s turn, I think.”

  “Okay, I will.” Sara turned to Abby. “Now that y’all have the grand opening out of the way, I guess you’ll be shifting to wedding planning?”

  “It’s mostly done,” Abby said. “All but the actual decorating and last-minute stuff. Thanks for offering your photography skills on the day.”

  “It was the best wedding gift I could think of,” Sara answered. “I’m honored that you’re taking me up on it.”

  “Do you know that in all the years Bayside Barn has been in operation,” Reva said, “it’s never been a wedding venue before? This’ll be a first. I wish we had time to grow some jasmine or climbing roses on the arbor Quinn is building for the ceremony.”

  “Ribbons and plastic flowers will be fine for us,” Abby said. “And I’ll plant something pretty afterward to commemorate the occasion. Maybe whoever gets married there next will reap the benefit.”

  “Yeah, and I was hoping it would be…” Reva sighed. “Never mind.”

  A really tall guy—had to be six foot six—came up to them.

  “Hello, ladies,” he said in a deep, silky voice.

  They all looked way, way up to meet his serious—and seriously attractive—chocolate-brown eyes.

  Abby and Reva both answered, “Yes?”

  Sara said “Hello” in a tone that suggested she’d just had the wind knocked out of her sails. And rightly so, Reva thought. This guy was serious eye candy. Not as pretty as Heather’s Adrian, but then again, there was no comparing Superman to Kylo Ren, was there?

  This guy, whose long black hair fell in loose waves to his wide shoulders, didn’t have the sort of face you’d call gorgeous or even traditionally handsome. A better description would be…arresting. Compelling.

  “Hey, um…” He seemed adorably abashed being the object of such close regard. “I’m here to help my friends”—he glanced over at a polished-looking couple who were bending down to look at some dogs in a nearby kennel—“choose the right dog for them.”

  Reva took charge, hoping that Sara would remember to close her mouth sometime soon. “Sure. I’ll help you find the right people to talk with.” Reva looped her arm through his and walked toward his friends. “Were you interested in a certain dog?”

  He pointed out a black mastiff-Rottweiler dog inside a huge kennel that was still only big enough for the dog to stand up and turn around. “This one, I think.”

  Reva looked around and couldn’t find any of the folks wearing the T-shirts that would identify them as volunteers for the organization manning this tent. “I’m sorry. I don’t see any of the right people here at the moment.”

  Reva glanced over at Sara, who had composed herself and was now smiling instead of looking as if she’d been smacked upside the head. “Sara, could you come over here? Maybe you can help…um…” She looked way up at the guy’s…smoldering sex appeal. That was another good description that had eluded her before. “I’m sorry. I didn’t get your name?”

  “Justin.” He stuck out a hand, and when she shook hands with him, his hand completely engulfed hers. “Justin Reed. I’m a dog trainer. I’m helping my friends choose the right dog. We’d like to take him on-leash, maybe to one of those fenced areas, if that’s okay, and work with him a little.”

  Sara came over with her phone in her hand. “I just sent a text. They’re next door grabbing something to eat. Said they’d left a note that they’d be right back, but it must have blown away.” She smiled at Justin, and a gust of wind caught her long copper curls and sent them flying, proving her point. “I don’t doubt it, either. This wind!”

  “Sara, this is Justin,” Reva said. “Can you help him and his friends take this dog to one of the play yards?”

  “Yes, of course.” Sara bent down to unhook the leash that had been fastened to the door of the crate, then asked the big black dog to sit. He sat, and Reva sent a silent “Good job” to the dog, who cocked his ears and glanced toward her but went back to staring straight ahead while Sara unlatched the crate door and hooked the leash to his collar.

  Reva’s phone in her pocket beeped with a loud emergency alert alarm. She let out a surprised yelp and just about jumped out of her skin. Several other phones nearby went off as well, and a ripple of “Whoos!” and “Ohs!” and “Ooohs!” went through the crowd. Reva silenced her phone and was still reading the message when the alarm went off again. “I get it,” she fussed at her phone, hitting the mute button for the second time.

  Sara gave the leash to Justin. Without speaking a word, Justin looked down at the dog, who responded immediately by sitting at Justin’s side and training his gaze on Justin, awaiting further instruction. The couple who’d come with Justin so he could help them choose a dog sidled up to join the conversation. “What’s going on?” the pretty blond woman asked. “Was that an Amber Alert?”

  “Incoming storm alert,” Reva answered absently. They had thirty-six hours’ notice to prepare for the arrival of a tropical storm with the potential to become a hurricane. But she was more interested in the arrival of this guy, a kindred spirit, whether he knew it or not.

  Reva had never met another animal communicator before, aside from her niece, Abby, whom Reva had trained herself. But this big guy standing in front of her definitely was one.

  Did he know it? Or was he like Cesar Milan, who seemed to think that his training ability was all due to the accurate observation of body language and the astute application of behavior modification techniques?

  “Yeah?” Justin looked up at the still-clear-blue skies. “When?”

  She flapped a hand. “Couple days. It’s just a tropical storm. I doubt it’ll turn into more than a Category 1, if that. We’ll be fine.”

  The woman’s eyes opened wide. “You mean a hurricane?”

  “Just a little one. More likely, just a tropical storm.”

  “We’re from California,” she said. “We’re used to earthquakes and fires. Aren’t you worried?”

  “If it was expected to be bigger, yes, we’d be worried. But with these smaller storms, we’re more concerned with flooding than wind. And we’re on high ground here. This bluff has been built up over centuries.”

  “Sounds like you’ve got everything under control, but…” Justin took his wallet out of his back pocket and flipped it open one-handed while the dog at his side looked on with interest. “If you do need help with evacuating the animals, we can provide transportation.” He gave Reva his business card.

  “Oh, yes,” the pretty lady said. “We’ll be filming in New Orleans for the next few months. We have access to any sort of vehicle you’d want. Buses, ambulances, whatever. The props department can get anyth
ing. If y’all need help, let Justin know.”

  “Thank you.” Reva looked down at Justin’s business card. “We will.”

  Now, she was the one who probably looked like she’d been smacked upside the head, and she reminded herself to close her mouth. Justin wasn’t just a dog trainer; he was an animal trainer for the film industry. His picture showed him cozying up to a full-grown tiger, something that made Reva feel immediately and intensely jealous.

  “Sara,” Reva said weakly, “would you please show Justin and his friends to the play yard? I need to see how things are going next door.”

  Maybe Justin and Sara would hit it off and exchange numbers. They clearly had some chemical thing going between them. But since Reva had struck out matchmaking between Heather and Adrian—who had seemed so right for each other—she might as well put any ideas about those other two out of her head.

  Reva went back to her house, wondering what sort of state she’d find Winky in. Poor cat had been bounced around so much in such a short amount of time that she feared he would never trust humans again. “Winky?” Reva walked toward his crate in the laundry room. “How you doing, kitty?”

  The poor cat sat in his litter box, his face tucked into the far back corner of the crate. His head was down; his eyes were closed. Reva cautiously opened the crate door in case he thought about running, but he sat still and unresponsive. She reached into the crate to touch his hunched back. He didn’t flinch or hiss or try to run. He didn’t move at all. “Hey, buddy. What’s wrong, huh?”

  She knew what was wrong, but she was hoping to start a dialogue, to get him to express his feelings about being abandoned. “Do you feel like talking about it?”

  She didn’t get a sense of yes or no. She didn’t get anything at all. Winky had shut down emotionally to such a degree that Reva couldn’t reach him.

  ***

  Adrian sat on his balcony early the next morning and watched the river drift past. He still had trouble believing that Heather had kicked him into the friend zone, which honestly wasn’t that far from the curb. He knew exactly what the let’s be friends line meant because he’d used it himself more times than he could count.

  He’d used it on Jamie, who’d been just as ready to move on as he had, so they’d actually been able to be friends after the breakup. But no mistake; it had been a breakup. That’s exactly what let’s be friends meant. He learned that when his high school girlfriend found somebody new the month after he moved to Houston. Let’s be friends. Yeah, right.

  He missed Heather already.

  He missed her kids.

  He even missed the damn cat and regretted not taking Winky with him when he left. Winky would have given him some comfort. But at the time, Adrian hadn’t wanted to take even a minute to do what needed to be done to make that happen. He’d been so angry and upset that he hadn’t wanted to do anything other than get the hell out of there.

  He was halfway home before he realized that his parents would be worried that he’d just disappeared. He pulled over and sent a text claiming that something work-related had come up and he had to return to New Orleans right away. Then he sent step-by-step instructions they could follow to get to the highway when they were ready to head home.

  He couldn’t believe he’d run away like an embarrassed kid. Stupid. He had been too shell-shocked to think straight, as numb as he’d been when that ski first hit him in the face.

  The pain was coming on stronger now, along with a hefty dose of anger at Heather for not even giving them a chance. He felt as isolated and uprooted now as he had when Hurricane Katrina had torn through New Orleans and ripped through his life.

  Adrian realized that because of what he’d been through, he could empathize with animals whose lives were impacted by events over which they had no control. Adrian had promised to ride Charlie no matter what happened with Heather. The poor horse had done nothing wrong. But now, through no fault of his own, Charlie would be stuck in his stall again with no one to ride him.

  Okay, not strictly true because Adrian felt sure Quinn would spend time with the horse. But for Quinn, it would be a perfunctory obligation. For Adrian, it had been a pleasure and a joy. For him and for Charlie, it had been the beginning of a relationship.

  And hell, he had relationships with Heather’s kids too, no matter what she thought. What right did she have to yank the foundations out from under all those relationships?

  Tired of sitting on the balcony and fuming all by himself, he thought about calling Jamie but decided against it. Fuck-buddy sex wasn’t going to help his situation, and he liked Jamie too much to damage the friendship they’d managed to salvage from the ashes of a few too many meaningless hookups.

  Besides, Jamie wasn’t Heather. The only reason he and Jamie had managed to be friends after being lovers was that neither of them really wanted the other. And he did want Heather. Still.

  Aimless, he went back inside and turned on his laptop. Took care of some business, billed some clients, took on that new job he’d been angling for. They wanted him to come to Dallas to meet everyone and observe the company setup in person, so fine, he’d go to Dallas. He e-signed the contract, made the bookings, then emailed his itinerary to the company president. He would fly out first thing in the morning, then stay for a couple of weeks. That should get him over the worst of this.

  By the time he got home from Dallas, he would be over his failed-before-it-even-got-started relationship with Heather.

  And, he realized, it was just as well that he hadn’t brought the cat.

  But dammit, he deserved a chance to say goodbye to Charlie. He sent a text to Heather:

  I’ll be going out of town for a few days. I’m going to your place today to ride Charlie one more time before I leave. I’ll come when you’re at work and the kids are at school.

  He didn’t ask Heather for permission. Fuck getting her permission. Adrian had made a promise to that horse, and he intended to keep it. He’d go today and spend some quality time with Charlie. He’d double-check with Quinn that he would be around to ride Charlie while he was away.

  And when Adrian got back from Dallas, he would insist on the right to continue riding Charlie on a regular basis. Hell, maybe he’d even insist on buying the horse from her. There were plenty of high-dollar full-board horse barns around here where he could rent a stall.

  It wasn’t like Heather spent any time with Charlie anyway beyond the bare minimum required for the horse’s upkeep. Maybe she would let him buy Charlie. Then at least he’d get a horse out of the deal instead of walking away with nothing but a broken heart.

  With a plan in mind and a tiny ember of resentment burning in his heart, he dressed in jeans and boots and a thin old T-shirt for riding, then stuffed a change of clothes and a pair of tennis shoes into his gym bag.

  A message came through from Heather:

  That’s fine! Charlie will be glad to see you.

  It seemed from the breezy tone of her text that she was already comfortable with her decision to put him in the friend zone. But then, a second later, another message came through.

  Please be careful.

  Adrian flipped a bird at his phone and headed out the door.

  Chapter 18

  Winky had to have his medicine, so neither he nor Reva had any choice but to engage in armed combat over it, Winky armed with claws and teeth, Reva armed with a thick beach towel and determination. She wrapped him in the towel and tried to stick the medicine-dosing syringe in his mouth, but he managed to break free and skedaddle between the washer and the dryer.

  Given Winky’s current attitude, dosing him had become a two-person job, but Abby and Heather were outside taking down the last vestiges of yesterday’s celebration and preparing for the incoming storm: bringing the pool patio furniture into the barn, bungee-cording the heavy polyethylene rocking chairs to the porch railings, taking down hanging ferns, wi
nd chimes, and bird feeders.

  Quinn was taking each of the vehicles to fill with gasoline and topping up jerricans for the portable generators because Reva’s house didn’t have a fancy propane-powered generator like the shelter did. Quinn was also exchanging propane tanks for the grill. Even though this storm was only a tropical storm, it probably wouldn’t be the last one this hurricane season.

  Quinn’s attitude was that they might as well be prepared for anything, and whatever supplies they didn’t use this time, they’d have on hand for the next storm. Reva appreciated his foresight.

  Reva found Winky hiding behind the dryer. “Thanks a bunch, Winky.” The damn cat had managed to disconnect the dryer hose in the process of hunkering down between the dryer and the laundry room wall. “Come out,” she threatened, “or I will move the dryer and drag you out.”

  He hissed and growled in defiance.

  Reva closed the laundry room door and put her back into the effort of moving the dryer. When she’d moved the dryer out far enough to squeeze through the gap, she tossed the towel over the cowering cat and scooped him up.

  She got a few scratches for her efforts but finally managed to dose him with both medicines, then threw him none too gently into the big dog crate she had outfitted for him.

  Hissing, Winky leaped into the litter box at the back of the crate. His one good eye was narrowed, but the other one was nearly shut. Despite the faithful and liberal application of the antibiotic ointment, that eye wasn’t getting better.

  It looked worse.

  Reva closed her eyes and tried to connect with the cat. “How bad does your eye hurt? The same as before? Better? Worse?”

  Nothing. She got nothing. She opened her eyes to see that Winky had turned his back on her. “Fine, then,” she said in a huff.

  But it wasn’t fine. Winky was being a turd, yes, but he had good reason. He’d made a giant leap of faith in trusting Adrian, and Adrian had betrayed that trust by abandoning him. No wonder Winky was mad. He had every right to be acting out, and his crappy attitude wasn’t a good-enough reason for Reva to deny him the veterinary care she was pretty sure he needed, even though he refused to tell her how he felt.