The Magnolia Inn(59)

Jolene shifted her gaze to Flossie. “What’s your story?”

“Fell in love. Lost him to Vietnam. I had my girls here and your aunt to help me through it all. Sisters of the heart, darlin’, are as important as romance. Not saying that whatever the end of your journey with Tucker becomes isn’t important, but . . . how do I say this.” Lucy stumbled over the words.

“You’re stepping into Sugar’s shoes with us and we need you,” Dotty said softly.

“Good Lord!” Jolene gasped. “I’m not wise enough to do that.”

Lucy fluffed up her kinky hair with her hands. “That’s your opinion, not ours. And we need a fourth woman in this friendship wagon.”

“But Aunt Sugar is still available by phone when y’all have a problem,” Jolene said.

“Yes, she is, but she’s on a decades-late honeymoon with Jasper. We’ll talk to her about some stuff, but we don’t want to bother her too much. So accept it, child—we’re all in this together.” Flossie giggled.



Dark clouds hung in the sky as Jolene drove back to the Gator that evening. Cars and trucks were already parked and waiting for the doors to open when Jolene arrived. Dotty had been right about drinkers finding their way to a bar.

But then, Elaine had proven that years ago. And once Jolene started bartending, she’d seen it for herself. Once her mother had spent the night in her car when it slid off into a ditch. Thank God whiskey didn’t freeze, because if it did, she had enough in her that she could have died from the inside out. But even that wasn’t a speed bump for Elaine. The car had a few scrapes and a dented fender, but it wasn’t messed up too bad. It ran well enough to get her back out on the ice the next night so she could go to the bar again.

Dotty threw an apron toward Jolene when she saw her coming inside. Jolene wrapped it around her waist, bringing the strings back to the front and knotting them in a perfect bow. She’d learned long ago to never tie it in the back when a customer reached over the bar and pulled the strings. Her tips had gone flying every which way, right along with her pen and notepad.

“So did you bring a go-bag so you can stay with me if it gets too slick to drive?” Dotty asked as she picked up an apron.

“No, I’ve driven in snow up to the runnin’ boards and even outran a tornado a couple of times. I’ll be fine,” she said.

Dotty opened the door, and only five people came inside. Mickey was one of them, and instead of standing or sitting beside the door, he hiked a hip on a barstool. “I got a job with a beer delivery company out of Tyler, and I think every store in East Texas is stocked up and ready for this storm. I was wonderin’ if you’d let me off tonight. My girlfriend is worried about me drivin’ all the way home in bad weather. If you’re not comfortable not havin’ a bouncer, I can stay, but . . .” He let the sentence dangle.

Dotty reached across the bar and patted his cheek. “I got a sawed-off shotgun under the bar if things get too rowdy, but I’m not expectin’ a big crowd. You go on home, and drive safe.”

“Thanks, Miz Dotty. I’ve never had to toss anyone out yet, and since I’ve got the new job, you might want to reconsider keeping me on Friday and Saturday nights,” Mickey said.

“We’ll talk about that later,” Dotty said.

Mickey disappeared, and Dotty turned to Jolene. “There was a time I thought maybe he might ask you out.”

“Not my type.” Jolene smiled.

Dotty wiped down the already clean bar. “What is your type?”

“Have no idea right now, just know what isn’t,” Jolene answered.

The door opened and a blast of arctic wind blew half a dozen cowboys into the place. Jolene took a minute to scan their faces, not finding Tucker among them. She was a little disappointed, and yet she hoped that he was home with Sassy, watching television or maybe measuring something for the next room they’d work on.

More than a dozen people filed in next—ready to drink and party, not a bit afraid of the weatherman’s forecast. Dotty and Jolene became too busy drawing up pitchers and mugs of beer and even making a few fancy drinks to talk any more.

“Madam Fate, if you are real and you spent all these years setting this up, then I’d sure like to know what your endgame is,” Jolene whispered.



Montgomery, Alabama

Sugar was watching the countryside fly by at sixty-five miles an hour. When they left South Carolina, the plan was to take their time driving to Kansas and then head back west again in a zigzag pattern. They’d already called ahead and made reservations in an RV park in Alabama for tonight.

It wasn’t until Sugar looked at the calendar that she realized that it was Saturday. If she were home, she’d be thinking about church in the morning—maybe ironing one of her Sunday dresses and making sure she had a decent pair of pantyhose. Girls these days had stopped wearing hose, but not Sugar. She had given up her girdle years ago, but she’d told Dotty that they’d damn sure better bury her in pantyhose or she’d come back to haunt all three of them.

If they were home, she and Jasper would get up on Sunday morning, have pancakes, and go to church. Bless his heart, he’d been so good all these years to have dinner after church with her friends. After Bruce died, he’d had to endure the women without the benefit of another man. And not one time had he ever complained, so she needed to buck up and stop feeling sorry for herself.