The Magnolia Inn(62)

“You are evil,” Tucker groaned. “So I fell off the wagon. I had a good reason.”

“No, you had an excuse. It’s pretty plain that you like this misery that you put yourself through, so you’re not getting a bit of sympathy from me,” she told him. “You know my past, but if you want to talk about reasons why I feel this way, we can go over it again. And just so you know, my truck is out at the end of the lane. I had to walk in freezing rain and sleet all the way to the inn at three o’clock in the morning, only to fall over your drunk ass when I tried to turn on the light. I’m plumb fresh out of sympathy, so make your own eggs and toast.”

“That was real? I thought I was dreaming,” he muttered. “You wrecked your truck? Why?”

“Look outside.” She carried her dirty dishes to the sink, rinsed them, and put them in the dishwasher.

He shielded his eyes and glanced out the window. “Good God! You drove home in that? Why didn’t you call me?”

“I did. You were passed out. And now I’ve got things to do.” She left the room with Sassy right behind her. “Your cat doesn’t even like you this morning.”

She heard him swearing and got a whiff of burned eggs. Then there was a scraping noise as he trashed those and started all over. She hadn’t felt such a surge of anger in years, not since her mother had passed. If only she could hit something—anything that would make noise. There was nothing but a small plastic trash can in the corner. With one well-placed kick, it went flying across the room and bounced off the wall, sending wadded-up balls of paper scooting across the floor. Sassy flew off the bed and attacked them as if they were mice, batting them under the bed and from one end of the room to the other.

Even that didn’t put a smile on Jolene’s face. She hoped that he would move his ratty old trailer back to Marshall when they got finished remodeling. She’d gladly mail him his half of the profits if he just left.

She couldn’t stay in her room all day. She had things to do, so she took a long, deep breath and headed toward the laundry room. That day, they wouldn’t wash their clothes together. She’d separate them and do only her things. He could damn well do his own.

When she went back through the kitchen, he reached out to touch her arm.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t here for you last night,” he said.

“Prove it,” she said.

“What does that mean? You knew that yesterday was a tough day for me. It was Melanie’s birthday,” he said.

“And it’s her birthday the same day every year. Just like it was every year before she died. Are you going to get drunk every time? If so, I’ll mark it on the calendar so we don’t have guests that will stumble over you when they come downstairs for a cookie or a glass of milk,” she said.

“I don’t like you so much right now,” he snapped as he stormed off toward the bathroom.

“Well, I don’t like you at all,” Jolene said.

She put her white clothes in the washer, and while the cycle ran, she dusted all the downstairs furniture, the pictures, and even the window ledge where a cardinal watched her through the glass. “You’re not going to make me feel guilty. More than two years is enough for him to pull up his bootstraps and get on with life.”

When she finished, she went back through the foyer and into the utility room to get the vacuum. She heard water running in the shower. He’d better enjoy it, because if they lost electricity, there would be no hot water. But maybe an icy shower was exactly what he needed.

When she came back through the kitchen, Tucker was sitting at the table with a cup of coffee in his hands. His eyes still looked like hell. His hair still sported a few water droplets, but it had been combed. And he was wearing clean sweats, even if they didn’t match.

“You said to prove it. Just exactly how do I do that?” His tone was still grumpy.

“Don’t do it again,” she told him.

“Ever?”

“That’s right. Think about it. We have guests on a Saturday night and they come in late from a family reunion or a movie and stumble over your drunk ass in the foyer. That’s real good for business.”

He sucked in air and let it out slowly. “You ever give your mama that speech?”

“More times than I want to remember, only it was about being sober enough to go to work and get through her eight-hour shift five days a week. And what sent my last boyfriend, Johnny Ray, packing was the same problem. God hates me. He keeps putting you drunks in my path,” she said.

He took a sip of coffee. “So how long do you stay mad when you get to this boiling point?”

“Don’t know. A week. A month. I’ve never been this angry before,” she said.

“Never?” He raised a dark brow.

“Nope, because always before if I got mad, I could move out or kick whoever upset me out. I have to live with you, so it may take a while.”

“Whew!” Tucker wiped his brow.

“You caused it. Now live with it.” She left him sitting there as she went to her room to read a book for the rest of the afternoon.





Chapter Nineteen

Tupelo, Mississippi

While Jasper made breakfast that morning, Sugar used the time to give Jolene a call. It rang four times before Jolene answered.