Chapter 13
Magnolia
Twenty minutes after Nash leaves, Charlie opens the front door. Piper is still sleeping in her room. Her schedule is a little different since she doesn’t get home until two in the morning, usually. But Charlie is hardly ever home late morning like this.
“Why are you here at this time? You’re back early,” I say.
Charlie walks in the door, covered in dust. She locks the front door with our top chain latch before sliding out of her coveralls and unlacing her boots. The latch is the only thing that keeps the door from randomly popping open.
“Had to let the electricians do some work.”
Charlie is a general contractor and specializes in remodels. It looks like she’s been cutting a lot of drywall today, based on the white powder covering her hands and face. With the coveralls removed, it’s a stark difference between her clean arms and dirty face.
“I need a shower,” Charlie announces. “Sometimes I wonder if I should get a regular job like you.”
“Hey, guess what? I’m still fired.”
Charlie tiptoes through the living room, leaving a little trail of dust in her wake. “At least you’re consistent!”
Piper walks into the kitchen as she finishes twisting her hair up in a messy bun. “Oh, don’t forget. She’s already picked up another job.”
I stick out my tongue at her. I made the mistake of mentioning my fiancée-for-hire gig to her.
“Wait, let me shower, and then you can tell me everything.” Charlie marches down the hall toward the one bathroom.
“But hurry up because I have to go to work soon!” Piper yells after her.
“What time is your shift tonight?” I ask as I walk into the kitchen to survey the damage.
“I have to be there at four this afternoon,” Piper replies.
I stare at the inside of our empty fridge.
None of us are really meal planners and preppers. It’s not really a big deal because our schedules are so random. Except it’s not good when you’re hungry and you have nothing to snack on.
“I’m starving.” I open the fridge. There’s a bottle of Sprite. “I should go to the store. But I don’t want to.”
“I’ll bring home some peanuts,” Piper promises.
“I ate the last of the cereal this morning. I guess we’re gonna have to buy groceries this week.” Charlie says from down the hall. “By the way, I met your boyfriend!”
“Charlie Baxter! Get your butt back out here!” I yell.
She tiptoes back toward me and grins sheepishly. “He was coming down the stairs when I got home.”
“He left a long time ago!” Oh this is bad. I love Charlie. One of her endearing qualities is that she’s incredibly blunt. It also means you never know what she’s going to say to someone.
“Yes, we were talking for a while. I like him.”
“You like him?”
“Yeah, he seems nice and respectful of you.”
“You realize he’s not actually my boyfriend, right?”
Charlie grins. “But he could be!” And then she turns and runs for the bathroom.
I’m going to have to try and remember to ask Nash about his conversation with her.
Piper makes a pot of coffee and sits on the couch while she’s waiting for it to percolate. “I have some cash from tips last night. How would you feel about walking to the bakery and getting all of us lunch while I go back to bed for an hour?”
“It’s a deal.”
I walk to the bakery with Charlie’s and Piper’s requests.
Piper got in extra late last night after doing inventory, and I don’t blame her for wanting to get a little more sleep.
And she’s footing the bill for my snacks.
Walking to the bakery is the least I can do, and it gives me time to talk to my mom.
I unlock my phone and click on my mom’s name. She answers on the second ring.
“Hello? Magnolia, how are you? Is everything all right?”
I’m not usually the one to call, so no wonder she’s worried. Which also makes me feel like a crappy daughter, because I love my mom, so why don’t I call her more often?
“I have a fake fiancé.”
Something crashes in the background of the call, and I wait to see if she dropped her coffee cup or if she fainted. I open the door to Buns & More Bakery.
It smells like heaven in here. They have delicious food, but my cinnamon rolls are better—in my objective opinion. And it makes me think that someday I really could have a bakery of my own. But for now, I’ll just dream of it.
“Did I hear you right? You have a fake fiancé?” Mom demands. Good, she dropped the coffee cup, not herself.
“It’s a little hard to explain.”
“Well, you either explain, or I’ll find someone who can drive your brother to his hockey practices and I’ll show up on your doorstep,” she threatens.
Some people have scary dads who would do anything to protect them. I have a scary dad and mom. She always says that if anyone hurts me, all I need to do is tell her. She looks great in orange.
“Hold on one second. I’m grabbing snacks at the bakery for the girls.”
I slip my phone into my pocket and pick out a couple of muffins and a breakfast sandwich for Piper. I hand over the cash, then walk away with the box of goodies.
I pull out my phone again. “Sorry, had to get us some lunch.”
“Start talking, missy.”
“I met a man at work when that fire alarm went off. He was really sweet. In fact, he made sure I didn’t get left behind when it was time to evacuate.”
“This is a good start…”
“And the next time I saw him, I was talking with him when he got a phone call that his grandpa was about to pass away. I guess he’d been on hospice for a while.”
“Oh,” Mom sighs. “That’s sad circumstances to meet under.”
“Exactly.” I spend the rest of the walk home telling Mom the story of how I became a fiancée for hire.
She’s silent by the time I finish and am back in the apartment.
“Mom, are you still there?”
“I’m here. I’m just trying to decide if I should come over there or not.” She sounds more amused than concerned now.
“Eugene to Bend is more than a two-hour drive, Mom.” I set the box down on the counter, and Charlie emerges from her room, wearing a cozy sweater and yoga pants. She rubs her hands together excitedly at the prospect of muffins.
“Thank you,” she whispers, trying not to interrupt my phone call.
“It’s okay. I’m talking to Mom.”
She walks around the counter to yell, “Hi, Juniper!”
“Is that Charlie? Put me on speakerphone,” Mom demands.
I sigh, knowing this isn’t going to end well. Mom loves Piper and Charlie and has practically adopted them. I’m the oldest of five kids…and the only girl. Mom likes to say she’s been horribly outnumbered ever since I moved out.
“Charlie! How are you, sweetie?”
“I’m good! How are you?”
“Magnolia was just telling me about this fake fiancé of hers. Have you met him?”
Trust Mom to get straight to the point.
“Yes! I think you’d like him actually. I met him this morning,” Charlie tells her. “Piper and I have been thinking that Magnolia should just keep him.”
“He’s that good?”
“Oh, yes, we like him. When are you coming over to meet him?”
“He’s not my fiancé!” I shout over the two of them.
They ignore me, and Charlie continues jabbering about Nash’s many great qualities, which she’s somehow figured on in a few short minutes of conversation. Even worse, she’s telling Mom that she would adore him if she could meet him for herself.
“I. Am. Not. Engaged,” I say again loudly.
“Is that any way to treat your fiancé?” a masculine voice says from behind me.
Charlie, Mom, and I go silent at the same time.
Slowly turning around, I face the source of the voice.
Nash is standing directly behind me.
“How did you get in here?” I gasp. “Why are you back? You were just here? I thought you had to be somewhere!”
“Who is it?” Mom asks. “Why isn’t this a FaceTime call?”
Nash glances at the phone on the counter between Charlie and me. “I knocked, but you didn’t hear me. And it’s not like your door locks anyway.”
“Is that him?” Mom yells. “Show me!”
I reach for my phone to hit End, but Charlie beats me to it and connects a video call.
“Hang it up!” I demand. “Nash doesn’t want to meet my mom.”
Nash is looking back and forth between us, and then a slow grin stretches across his face. “Actually, I do.”
He steps forward quickly and reaches over my shoulder to take the phone from Charlie.
Charlie, the dirty traitor, hands him the phone right away.
Nash turns his back to me, protecting the phone from my grasp. “Hi, I’m Nash. Magnolia’s fiancé.”
Mom eats it up. “It’s great to meet you! I know Magnolia wasn’t going to introduce us.” She calls to me, “Magnolia! He’s so cute!”
I reach around Nash, attempting to take the phone from his grasp and hang up on her. She’s going to embarrass me.
“Mom, it’s not real!”
Nash puts his arm out, catching me around the waist and pushing me behind his back.
“So, when’s the wedding date?” Mom asks.
“We were thinking spring. What do you think?” Nash’s tone is solicitous and warm.
I try to reach over the top of his shoulder, and he catches me by surprise as he leans down and grabs my leg at the same time, pushing me forward to be draped over his back like I’m getting a piggyback ride.
“What are you doing?” I shriek.
“I’m just trying to have a nice conversation with your mom, and you can’t keep your hands off of me,” he teases as he walks forward with me still on his back.
I glance at the phone and see my mom’s face smiling back at me.
He sits down on the couch, pushing my back against the cushions. He’s not sitting on me exactly, just leaning back against me. At least he didn’t go to the beanbag couch. I’d be flattened beneath him.
“What was your name?” he asks her.
“I’m Juniper, Magnolia’s mom. It’s so good to meet you. I only found out about you a few minutes ago.”
“So nice to meet you, Juniper,” Nash drawls. He’s not southern—it should be against the law for him to drawl. “You have a tree theme going with your names, don’t you?”
“Oh you noticed! My parents named me Juniper, and I felt like it was right to carry on the tradition with my kids. I have a Magnolia, Oakley, Linden, Hollis, and Rowan.”
Mom loves it when people notice our themed names. She’ll probably get off the phone and sew Nash a stocking for Christmas at this rate.
“How is your grandpa?” Mom asks, changing the subject.
“He’s doing better, and all his numbers are good, so we’re hopeful. Thanks for asking.”
I peek around Nash’s shoulder to see Mom looking at him seriously.
“I know how hard it is to lose parents and grandparents, so I’ll be praying he keeps improving.”
“Thank you for that. And thanks for letting me borrow your daughter. She’s been the best fiancée I’ve ever had.”
I poke him in the back, about to say, I’m the only fiancée you’ve ever had, when I remember I’m replacing a real person. So, I guess I’ve been pulled ahead on the ranking to pass one person.
I still poke him on the back just for good measure. “You’re squishing me.”
He immediately gets up and moves to sit next to me so that he’s not flattening me anymore.
“So, are you going to visit your grandfather today?” Mom asks.
“Actually, I stopped by for something else.”
Mom’s eyes go wide. “Are you dating my daughter for real? Is that why you’re there?”
“Not exactly,” Nash says. “I came to replace their broken lock.”
I elbow him in the side. He turns his head slowly and looks at me, his eyes piercing as he gazes into mine.
I raise my eyebrows and meet his glare. “Replace our lock?” I whisper, hoping that the phone doesn’t catch my voice.
“It’s not safe. You need a front door that locks.” He doesn’t bother to whisper.
“Magnolia Marie!” Mom exclaims. “Does your front door not lock? Why doesn’t Charlie fix it?”
“She’s been busy. Besides we have a chain lock at the top,” I explain to her.
I turn to face Nash. His face is much closer to mine than it was a moment before. “You are not helping.”
“You need a good dead-bolt lock and probably a steel cage door, but hopefully, this will help for now,” he says.
His look tells me he’s not about to listen to an argument…so I keep my mouth shut—for now.
He turns back to my mom. “It was nice meeting you.”
“Don’t be a stranger! And thanks for looking out for Magnolia. Magnolia, your dad is going to be so mad when he finds out your door was broken!”
Picturing my dad’s worried and disappointed face when she tells him, I say, “Mom! Don’t tell him! Nash is here to fix everything.”
I narrow my eyes at him. If he was in a hurry to interfere before, he’d dang better step in now.
“Right, right. Nothing to worry about. I got them a doorbell camera too.”
“You’re such a nice boy,” Mom says as if he were still thirteen. “I look forward to meeting you in person.” She waves, then cuts the call.
Nash slowly extends the phone out to me and gives me a sheepish grin. “Sooo…”
I fold my arms across my chest and sit on the edge of the couch, refusing to take the phone. He wouldn’t give it to me earlier when I asked. Now he gets the worst consequences. I do my best to give him a haughty look.
He gently sets the phone down on my leg. “Are you mad at me?”
I look at him with narrowed eyes.
He gives me a puppy-dog look. “Don’t be mad…”
“You tackled me in front of my mother!” I exclaim.
“Ha, not true. You jumped on my back. I simply sat down on the couch.” When he sees my hot glare, he mimes zipping his lips.
He slides an arm across the back of the couch and smiles at me. “I brought you a present.”
“A door lock?” I try to keep a straight face, but I also think it’s incredibly sweet that he wants to protect us.
Nash reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a small box. He sets it on my lap, next to the phone.
I slowly flip it open to see a beautiful engagement ring. It’s a bezel-set diamond ring. It’s unique and beautiful, and it’s sitting on my lap.
“What’s this?” I say.
“It’s your engagement ring. Grandpa asked me about it yesterday.”
“Did you pick this out?”
He taps a hand against the back of the couch. “Yes. Is it okay?”
“You have amazing taste,” I manage as I study the ring.
He bought this for his fiancée…and it’s weird that I feel a pang of jealousy in the pit of my stomach. I want to ask him what she thought of it, but I don’t.
“It’s not the ring I gave Jane.”
He has a weird way of reading my mind.
“This is fake, right?” My brain is not helping me. I’m blurting out every awkward thing I can think of.
“No, it’s real.”
“What? You went out and bought a real diamond ring?” I gasp.
“It was pretty and looked like something you would like,” he says as he jumps up from the couch and hurries to the front door.
There’s a bag sitting on the shoe tray, and he digs out a screw gun and a new doorknob.
If I didn’t know better, I’d think he was embarrassed—and that idea gives me a warm, fuzzy feeling.
I slip the ring onto my finger. It fits almost perfectly. And he was completely right.
I do love it.