Chapter 30
Chapter Thirty
Magnolia
I’d spent more time with my mother in the past week than I had in the previous twenty years.
Things were happening fast with the sale of Lansford Development and the creation of our nonprofit, faster than I ever could’ve imagined. I hadn’t asked for this project, and I still had less than zero interest in Lansford, but I was surprised at how invested in the nonprofit I was becoming.
When I’d shared the ideas from girls’ night with my mother over lunch last week, she’d been enthusiastic about them, agreeing a women’s campus with multiple kinds of support and resources was a fitting way to use the proceeds.
I’d told her about the night Felix had kicked me out and how I’d managed to get my feet under me afterward.
She agreed I was lucky to connect with Dotty. Most women didn’t have a Dotty.
Our first step was to find a buyer for Lansford, and as if it was meant to be, we now had one.
My mother had surprised me when she’d shown up at the Earthly Charm open house, saying she wanted to become involved in Dragonfly Lake life again and start making connections for our project.
Like me, she hadn’t really fit in before, being the wife of a tyrant and having practically more money than the entire rest of the town combined.
In the past, her social life had been more wrapped up in Nashville’s high society.
That was where the galas were, the benefits, the organizations she’d chosen to volunteer for back when she still lived with Felix and me.
She was starting over here, just like I had.
Somehow, as if some higher power was making things happen for us, she’d ultimately found our buyer at the open house when Dakota had introduced her to Ian Finley, Dakota’s grumpy billionaire roommate.
Long story short, Ian was more than qualified to purchase Lansford, and he’d been looking for a business opportunity now that he’d walked away from Wall Street. Lansford was in his wheelhouse.
Over the past week, our lawyers and his had worked nonstop to forge an agreement that would work for all of us.
It wasn’t finalized yet—we were told that could take weeks—but Dave, my grandfather’s estate attorney who’d sat in for most of the negotiations, said he didn’t foresee any problems cropping up.
In the meantime, we were working on plans for our nonprofit. We’d lined up the assistance of more lawyers and a nonprofit consultant my mother had met years ago through her volunteer efforts.
Today my mother and I were at the Dragonfly Diner for a late lunch work session to organize our ideas before we had our first official meeting with the consultant.
Presley’s wedding was only two days away, so my plate was overflowing, but now that my mother and I had our purpose, we were both impatient to get the ball rolling.
“You ladies look like you’ve got some serious business going on here,” Patrick, the server, said, making a circle with his hand to indicate my mother’s notebook and my laptop on the table. “Are we ordering lunch today or just having beverages?”
“Definitely lunch,” I said.
We put our orders in, then got down to business.
The consultant had sent us some materials with an overview of topics we needed to address.
“The first question is where we want to locate,” I said, glancing at the list. “I think we’ll have to build.”
“I agree,” my mother said. “Finding a property that would work for everything we want would be a long shot.”
“We’ll need apartments and a headquarters for offices. Classrooms, community center, a workout facility…”
“What do you think about a medical clinic?” my mom asked. “Maybe we could get doctors to volunteer their time for a few hours each month. These people likely won’t have health insurance at first, so what do they do for health care?”
“Good idea. We could do the same for counseling. Why don’t we start a wish list of all the things we’d like. A dream list with no budget restrictions for now. That’ll come later.”
“I like that. Our pie-in-the-sky list,” she said.
I opened a new document on my laptop and added the items we’d already mentioned.
“What if we had a community kitchen where residents could apply their lessons in cooking and nutrition?” I asked. “Kind of a cooperative setup.”
“That would cut down on paid staff if residents had some responsibilities like cooking, cleaning, landscaping…”
“I love that,” I said. “We could even turn these into hourly jobs so people can begin earning a paycheck right away. If we’d have to pay someone to staff the kitchen anyway—”
“It might as well be a resident who needs an income.”
“Exactly.” I typed in some notes. “Are you thinking Nashville or Dragonfly Lake or somewhere in between?”
Patrick dropped off our lunch, so I pushed my laptop to the side but kept it close enough I could type. My stomach growled at the aroma of the juicy cheeseburger and fries on my plate.
“I’d forgotten how good simple diner food can be,” my mother said.
I didn’t imagine a diner was someplace she’d ever frequented. When I was growing up, we’d had a cook, so we hadn’t dined out often. When we had, it was often to some high-dollar, fine-dining establishment in Nashville.
“We might have more options in Nashville,” my mom said, going back to my question about location, “but I’d prefer Dragonfly Lake. It’s a lot more peaceful, more of a respite.”
I agreed. “Maybe we could start a program with local businesses to help residents get entry-level jobs,” I suggested.
“That would certainly be easier here in town where nearly everything is a mom-and-pop.”
“And we know a lot of the owners,” I added. “The trick will be finding suitable land. We’ll need a real estate agent to start the search soon.”
We spent the next forty-five minutes talking about the rest of the list—our mission statement, researching similar organizations, and what we needed to set up legally, financially, and staffwise.
“Speaking of staff…” I switched my now-empty plate with my laptop so I could get back to typing easily, “as I understand it, we’ll need a board of directors—”
“I’ve got that covered,” my mom interrupted.
“Uh, what do you mean, you’ve got that covered?”
“I had lunch with several of the ladies I’ve volunteered with for years. People are excited about this. I’ve got six solid commitments plus two maybes for the board.”
I frowned, my gut tightening. “I hope you didn’t promise them anything, because I have friends here in town who are interested.”
“These women are experienced in nonprofits and running large events and big-city foundations, Magnolia. They’re the best.”
There was a thread of steel in her words, as if this was nonnegotiable and a done deal.
For our joint project, of which, last time I’d looked, the original idea was mine, and the decisions were supposed to be agreed upon by both of us.
I was all about working together, but to have her swoop in and take control of something we hadn’t agreed on?
“Hold up,” I said. “You can’t just form a board of directors without my input.”
“I didn’t set out to do that, but these women will be stellar. We couldn’t do better.”
I thought of Chloe, Presley, and Rowan. “Don’t be so sure. I’ve got three powerhouse friends who are interested.”
“I don’t think we want our board to get too big,” she said. “We might not need them.”
“It’s not a matter of needing them. It’s a matter of creating a diverse, effective board. Together. If we’re going to work together, I need to be included in decisions.”
“We need to be willing to split the workload, Magnolia. I might not know as much about operations, but I’ve been volunteering for many years. If there’s one thing I know, it’s women who’ve been involved in large, important nonprofits.”
“And I’m sure their input is valuable, but the women I’d like to present for the board are experts in business and in caretaking.”
“Well, I’m sure they’d be good, but I’ve got it handled. These women are committed.”
“You’re going to have to uncommit them until we can make the decisions together, Mother.”
“How am I supposed to do that? They volunteered, Magnolia. When someone offers to help, I know to get them locked in. This is good. It’s one thing we can check off our list. You should be happy for one less thing.”
“This is a critical thing,” I said. “A board of directors isn’t just about who volunteers. It’ll determine the direction this entire organization will take. I want our board carefully curated. It’s possibly the biggest decision we face.”
“But it doesn’t have to be a difficult one,” she insisted. “The people I promised positions are good, solid folks.”
“But you can’t promise them positions,” I said through clenched teeth. “Do you see how you basically just walked all over me by doing that?”
“I was embracing opportunity, Magnolia. What did you want me to say? No?”
“You’re going to have to call them and walk back your promise.”
She shook her head. “I can’t do that.”
“Well, I can’t work with someone who takes action behind my back. You and I agreed, Mother. We’re equals in this endeavor. We agree on everything, or it doesn’t happen.”
“And I fully intend to honor that, but I can’t go to these women and take it all back.”
“You’ll have to find a way. If you can’t, we’ll split the money from Lansford, and you can do what you want with your half.”
“There’s no need to threaten that,” she said. “Let’s not let emotions ruin this.”
“I might be emotional, but that’s not what this is about.
This is about working together, about you not going behind my back and making big decisions for me.
I’ve had enough of people disregarding me and making decisions for me for a lifetime.
If we’re in this together, we’re making the decisions together, or I’m out. ”
I didn’t want to fight with her. I wasn’t a fan of confrontation. But I wasn’t going to quietly accept someone taking away my autonomy over my life, my business, or this endeavor.
My mother gazed out the window, her jaw visibly tight. My heart pounded as I waited for her response, because I meant what I said. If she didn’t relent, I would walk.
Finally she said, “Fine,” through clenched teeth. “I’ll tell them we’ll be making our final selections in the coming weeks.”
“Thank you,” I said tensely. I glanced at the time and closed my laptop. “I think we’re done here today. I have a wedding to pull off.”
I threw enough cash on the table to cover my half of the bill, then slid out of the booth. “I’ll call you next week to continue the discussion.”
“Have a merry Christmas, Magnolia,” she said, her tone only a little softer.
“Same to you.” That was all the holiday goodwill I had in me at the moment. I needed to get to the barn and get a jumpstart on the decorating for the wedding.