Chapter 7
Chapter seven
MAGNOLIA
“Ican smell the booze seeping out of our pores, and it’s making me sick,” Sutton grumbled, choking back a gag as we sat across from each other at Clary’s for brunch.
Our collective hangovers prevented us from dress shopping, and the most we could muster were satellite-dish sized pancakes and Bloody Marys from our favorite spot.
“Will they ever learn? Will they ever stop taking advantage of free cheese and wine while their friends try to run an upscale business? Stay tuned to find out!” I said dramatically, sipping slowly on my cocktail.
“Honestly, I think the best part was when you jumped on that horse Charlie made out of old bicycle parts and tried to ride it while yelling, ‘Hi-ho-silver!’ at the top of your lungs. That was about the point where Dane started feeding you cheese and cutting your wine with water so you didn’t embarrass him anymore.
” She eyed my outfit—pumpkin-covered leggings paired with an old Savannah Academy hoodie that had once belonged to Lee—and burst out laughing. “What are you wearing?” she asked.
“Listen, I woke up in my bra and underwear with Pickle trying to get romantic, licking the cheese and cracker crumbs out of my cleavage. I just found the first clean things I could and put them on.” I took a sip of my coffee, letting the warm liquid pool in my empty stomach.
“Any clue what happened to my boyfriend last night?”
Sutton almost spit out her drink. “Boyfriend? Oh, the strides we’ve made.”
I shrugged, a vague recollection of saying goodbye to Dane flitting through my mind before my brother walked me home.
I remembered Dane’s snarky, offhand comment about how much simpler things would be if I moved into his swanky Drayton Tower apartment.
Beyond that, though, everything was fuzzy. Lord knows how I responded to him.
“Well, I’m sure he’s sorely disappointed you two didn’t get fully acquainted with each other last night.” Sutton winced, her eyes darting around the room nervously.
The blurred lines of last night started to unfurl a bit, and I recalled Dane getting handsy in the back hallway of the wine shop and my insistence that someone take me home before things went too far. Had he gotten a little rough? Or angry? I couldn’t remember.
I shook my head, trying to rattle any sense of recollection to the front of my mind. “I’m going to wash my hands and dry heave a bit over the toilet before the pancakes get here. When she drops them off, will you ask her to bring a gallon of water to the table?”
In the bathroom, I took in the state of myself.
Last night’s mascara was smudged, and my spotty foundation was letting the freckles I always tried to hide peek through.
At least my new short haircut was still on point.
Eunice had treated me to a keratin blowout the last time we hit the day spa, and now my once-wild curls fell effortlessly into a sleek, long bob.
I gave myself a nod of encouragement and headed out of the restroom, ready to face the day.
Shaking my hands to air dry them in the small, stuffy hallway of Clary’s, I sauntered back to the table, taking my seat across from Sutton, whose back was against the wall of framed photos from the movie Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil.
I couldn’t really be sure, but it looked like John Cusack was slightly judging my hangover.
“Hey, serious question,” Sutton started, bringing her cup of coffee to her face. I surveyed the table and our various beverages and let out a chuckle.
“Is it why two girls who drank so much last night are so thirsty today? Good question.” I chose the glass of Diet Coke from the assortment of drinks, taking a long, eager sip.
Sutton’s eyes grew as big as the pancakes in front of us, and she moved the coffee cup closer to her face, covering her mouth.
“Nope. Not that. But yes, this is ridiculous. I was just wondering, um… remember that time you said that if you ever saw Lee again, you’d strangle him with the strings of his stupid guitar and shove his Grammy up his ass?”
Still keeping my eyes on my best friend, who was now visibly sweating out the wine, I nodded. “That sounds an awful lot like something I would say, yes.”
“Well, now’s your chance.” Cringing behind her coffee cup, she let out a series of long, panicked laughs.
“Good morning, ladies. Sutton, seriously, I would know you two in Times Square. Hiding behind a coffee cup isn’t going to help.”
Lee Wilder himself was standing over our table, and I was caught with my mouth open like a grouper fish, unblinkingly staring at him with a huge bite of pancake dangling off my fork. Sutton howled.
“I know a massive hangover when I see one,” he said, turning to the table behind us. “Mind if I borrow this chair?” The couple, some locals, were instantly starstruck and nodded, murmuring about how much they liked the latest single he’d written for Rhett Dawson.
Sutton finally lowered her coffee while my mind emptied of all coherent thought. Lee watched me with amusement.
“Um, hi,” he offered. A fourth chair made its way to our small table for two, and a tall, raven-haired gentleman took a seat next to Sutton, watching the awkward reunion unfold.
“Which one’s Magnolia?” he asked, grabbing my fork and taking a bite of our breakfast. “Has to be the one that looks like a deer in headlights. That makes you Sutton, the chef. I’m Ryan, Lee’s writing partner.”
Sutton watched Ryan with disgust, and I finally closed my mouth, swallowing my bite without chewing.
“Magnolia, I…” Lee started, nervously biting his bottom lip, an uncharacteristic tick for someone known for his brazen confidence, especially around folks with vaginas and pulses.
“You know what,” I practically screamed, shoving my chair away from the table and colliding with the table behind me, knocking over their plates and drinks, sending everyone into a shouting frenzy. “I just remembered I need to go get those flowers! The flowers, yes.”
“Magnolia, you got the flowers yesterday,” Sutton, ever so subtle and not picking up on social cues due to her borderline still-drunken state, stared at me blankly.
“Yes. Ha! But the flowery flower ones are not just the regular flowers. They’re… flowers.” I fumbled with my wallet and threw a twenty-dollar bill at my best friend, gritting my teeth at her to shut her mouth.
“Yes! Oh right, the flowery flowers. Okay, girl,” she winked. “I’ll call you later.”
She turned her attention to the random gentleman sitting to her right, helping himself to her bacon. “Excuse me, who are you? Stop eating my breakfast.” She slapped Ryan’s hand away from her food and shot me a wide-eyed, crazy grin.
I dashed out of the restaurant, pushing through the dozens of patrons gathered by the register waiting for a table.
A light rain had started outside, and people had been moving from the front of the popular dining spot into the counter-seating only area.
If I had a bulldozer, I would have run them all over.
As I marched through the drizzle, my heart raced. I thought I’d braced myself for this moment, but nothing could have prepared me for the whirlwind of emotions I felt when I saw him. The raw pain, the undeniable pull, and the sudden urge to strangle him…
I was halfway down Abercorn Street when he caught up with me.
“It’s been ten goddamn years, and the first time I see you, you run away! Magnolia, please, talk to me!”
I spun around, my hangover making everything wobble along with me.
A wave of nausea crept up my throat, and I shot Lee a hard look, trying to get my bearings.
Over the past ten years, he’d somehow grown taller and filled out.
His t-shirt stretched tight over a muscular build, showing off the results of whatever workouts he’d been doing.
He clearly had been taking excellent care of himself.
The lanky kid I remembered had turned into a confident, well-built man, and it threw me for a loop.
His dark-blond hair, once cropped short, was now slightly longer and darker, letting his natural curls peek through.
His big, sky-blue eyes locked onto mine as he gave me a quick, half-hearted smile.
My eyes settled on his full, soft lips, and as if on cue, he ran his tongue across the bottom one, making my stomach drop.
“Hi,” he offered, bringing me back to reality. I said nothing in return.
I’d known Lee for most of my life, and I could tell when he was wrestling with whether or not to reach out and touch me. I took a step back.
“What are you doing here?” I finally spat out.
“Well, I’m in Savannah because it’s my momma’s birthday, and she’d fly to Nashville and hang me if I didn’t show up.
” He pressed his lips together, trying to smother a laugh.
“And I’m at Clary’s because they have the best pancakes in the city, and that’s not even up for debate.
” He was trying to crack a joke, but I still crossed my arms and glared at him.
He took a half-step forward, clearly debating once again whether to reach out.
But after one look at my ‘don’t even think about it’ stance, he shoved his hands into his pockets and rocked back on his heels, like he’d just realized petting a cactus might be a better idea.
His shoulders dropped, and I almost felt bad. Almost.
“It’s nice to see you,” he said, keeping his eyes glued to the ground between us.
“I wish I could say the same, but it’s not,” I snapped.
He let out a brief, soft chuckle and met my eyes. “What did you do to your hair, Maggie?”
I watched his arm twitch, wanting to reach out and run his hands through my straightened long bob—probably now puffing out sideways from the rain—a stark difference from my long, wild red curls. I decided not to approach the subject of my makeover.
After all, if he wanted to see my evolution, he should have stuck around to see it firsthand.
“Your momma must be happy that you’re home,” I said, straightening myself and pulling my shoulders back in an attempt to exude confidence, the likes of which I definitely did not feel.
“She wasn’t at the house when I got there, so I stopped to get something to eat. Actually, no one was home except Dottie. I don’t suppose you know where they are?”
“Eunice has hair and nails until around noon, and then Marie Venuti is taking her to lunch at the club. Vance and Dane are playing golf with John and your cousin Joey—the one from Boston. He’s here for her party.”
He nodded and laughed a little, dropping his eyes back to his feet. “Right, well, it’s good to know they’re still embracing you.”
Wait until he found out just how much I actually was being embraced by his family.
“You’d know all of this if you ever called your momma. I’m running late. I’ll see you around, Lee. Welcome home.”
“That’s it? I come home after ten years, and that’s all you have to say to me? Listen, I’m sorry I didn’t call when Cole died. I just didn’t know what to say, and I knew how hard you’d take it, and I didn’t…”
I’d pictured this moment a thousand times, but now that it was here, I had nothing to say to him. Well, nothing nice anyway.
So, I flipped him the bird and stomped on home.