The Magnolia Inn(48)

“You could be right,” Sugar said. “She was a tall brunette, rather slim built, and when she and Tucker were home and came to church with her parents, they seemed like the perfect little couple. Her mother wanted grandkids, but she and Tucker didn’t seem to be in a big hurry for them. She’d taught the little kids’ Sunday school class, so it wasn’t any surprise to us when she became a schoolteacher and got a job in Dallas. I’d worried about a small-town girl going to the big city, but Melanie did fine. Met Tucker and got married. Then she was killed in an auto accident, and you know the rest.”

“Thank you,” Jolene said.

“And now moving on,” Sugar said. “Dotty raves about you working at the Gator. I wasn’t real happy about that, but it’s what you know, and I reckon you can take care of yourself.”

“Had to have something to pay the bills and buy food after Reuben did what he did,” Jolene said. “So you’re having a good time?”

“Oh, sweetie, we’ve been having the best time. We spent a couple of days on that beach where we scattered your folks’ ashes. We stood there in the edge of the water and remembered the day we scattered their ashes. It’s such a peaceful place. I’m glad that you wanted to put them where they’d honeymooned. Then we fished and picnicked. I love this journey,” Sugar gushed, “but I miss home. It’s takin’ a lot of adjusting, goin’ from the Magnolia to an RV. Don’t tell the girls I’m homesick—” Sugar’s voice cracked. “If they knew, they’d beg me to come back, and I couldn’t do that to Jasper. He’s barely over the way Reuben . . . no need in talking about that anymore. It’s crazy how a person can love a new life and miss the old one at the same time.”

“I miss you, too, Aunt Sugar. Why don’t y’all swing back through here as you zigzag across the states?” Jolene got up and went back inside. “It’s our secret, but if you change your mind, you can come back to Jefferson and live right here in the inn with us.”

“Thank you. It’s starting to snow.” Sugar’s voice wasn’t still up to normal. “We’re near Savannah, Georgia. Love you. Bye now.”

“Love you right back. Bye.” Jolene hit the “End” button and picked up the broom to carry it upstairs.



Tucker was applying the final sanding to the areas in the bathroom that he’d already gone over with the electric sander. The process now was to hit it with fine-grit paper wrapped around a block of wood before he textured the walls. After that it would be ready to tape off and paint. He was listening to his favorite country music playlist through the earbuds of his MP3 player and wouldn’t have even heard the phone if it hadn’t been in his hip pocket. He jerked both wires from his ears and answered without even looking to see who was calling.

“Hello, Tucker, how are you this morning?”

“I’m fine, Carla.” Of all the people in the world, his mother-in-law was the last person he wanted to talk to that morning. He didn’t need the yearly reminder that it was close to Melanie’s birthday.

“I hear that you bought interest in the Magnolia Inn and that you’re remodeling it,” she said.

“That’s right,” he said.

“I’m glad you’re nearby. We’re getting together again this year to celebrate Melanie’s memory on her birthday. Just burgers cooked on the grill and homemade ice cream. We’ll eat around seven, but come early if you can. You were a big part of her life, Tucker. We’d love to have you join us,” Carla said.

“Thanks for the invitation. I’ll see what I can do,” he said. “Right now, I’d better get back to work. Thanks for calling.”

He hit the “End” button before she could say anything else and then sat down on the floor beside the vanity. He didn’t need to spend time with Melanie’s family once a year to keep her memories alive. A lump the size of a basketball settled in his chest, making it hard to breathe. This would be Melanie’s third birthday since she’d died. Her mother had called the past two years to invite him to join them in remembering her, but he’d never gone to one of their celebrations.

He laid his phone on the vanity and stared at the place where a mirror would hang later. The blank wall became a screen for memories. He could see his grandfather’s face, standing proudly beside him as his best man at the wedding. His grandmother sat on the front row of the church, beaming and wiping tears at the same time. Cancer got his grandpa the next year, and six months later his grandmother simply didn’t wake up. Tucker had always figured she died of a broken heart.

That was his entire family, gone in less than a year. His father had come over the border to work for his grandfather one summer. His mother, Debra, had gotten pregnant during that time, and his father had been deported. When Tucker was six weeks old, she’d disappeared in the night, leaving a note behind that she’d gone to be with Joseph, Tucker’s father. She’d written several times, but before he was a year old, his grandparents got word that his mother and his father had both died in an accident when the bus they were riding collided with a semitruck.

If a person could really die of a broken heart, though, why was he still living? His chest tightened; his breath came in short gasps. He had to get away, even if it was just for a while. He passed Jolene on her way up and managed to get a few words out, saying that he needed something from the trailer.