Fireflies and Magnolias (3 page)

“I’m about to head over to Tammy’s house to watch a movie. The kids are finally asleep, and we haven’t had much alone time this week. What’s up with you?”

Nothing. Just hoping we could grab a beer like old times.

Their old times were gone now that his two closest friends had settled down, but he didn’t say that. Clayton was happy J.P. had found the woman of his dreams. No one deserved happiness more than his friend and Tammy and her kids.

“Nothing. Just leaving Rye’s.”

“Lucky you. What’d Tory cook for supper?”

Rye’s pint-sized wife might be a Yankee, but she could sure cook like a Southerner. “Hoppin’ John and the best skillet cornbread this bubba’s ever tasted.”

“That woman is a marvel.”

“Don’t I know it? Well, I’ll let you get on to your own woman.”

J.P. laughed at that. “My woman. Yes, yes she is. Everything all right, Clayton?”

Leave it to J.P. to pick up on his disquiet. He was the most sensitive of all of them. Clayton attributed that to him being a songwriter as well as a respected lawyer for country music’s biggest stars.

“Fine. Just a little frustrated. I talked with Megan. She’s not any closer to discovering our leak’s name.”

There was a pause on the other end of the line, then J.P. said, “While I’m not completely comfortable with this situation, maybe you should let me be her point of contact. Talking to her only reminds you of Amanda.”

Amanda.
The only woman Clayton had let himself fall for, the only woman he’d ever taken home to meet his mama. A tabloid reporter, she’d lied about her job in order to pump him for information about Rye, and even worse, his own revered daddy, Jimmy Ray Chandler, whose country music legend lived on from the grave.

Clayton had thought they were getting closer, so he’d privately shared certain details he knew as Rye’s deputy manager, only to see them featured in her newspaper not long after. If that hadn’t been devastating enough, his personal recollections about the night his daddy and his band members had died in the accident were released shortly thereafter.

He knew the bitter sting of private information made public, and it was what made this whole mess so personal to him. He wouldn’t let it go. Couldn’t let it go.

Amanda had been his inspiration for hiring Megan. Any man could be brought down by a combination of lust and sweet-talking. Hadn’t he been a prize stooge? Gunner wouldn’t be any different.

“You want to swing by and have a quick beer?” J.P. asked.

He knew J.P. meant it, but it would be rude to take him up on the offer. “Maybe later this week when you have a night off. Don’t want to keep your woman waiting.”

“Okay. I’ll give you a holler. Night, Clayton.”

“Night, bubba.”

When he hung up, he headed into Nashville to one of his favorite honky tonks. Just because he was going out without any wingmen these days didn’t mean he couldn’t find some fun. And if carefree women with bawdy laughs and big hair weren’t doing it for him as much these days, well, he would apply himself to the task with renewed dedication.

More than anything, he needed to steer his mind off the past and the threat Amelia Ann embodied to his present.

In Susannah McGuiness’ family, the seventh day of the week had always been held sacred. She and her three siblings had dressed in their best clothes to attend church with their mama, and in the afternoons they’d all enjoy a big meal together. Now they had the privilege of listening to their mama preach. But though Reverend Louisa tended to a large flock, her family always came first, and they still kept their Sunday tradition of spending the afternoon together. And since her brother had found the love of his life, Tammy, their family tradition had expanded to include her and her family.

J.P. was a hard man to track down these days. He’d always kept busy with work, and now he spent most of his free time with Tammy and her two adorable children. Susannah couldn’t be happier for them, but darn it all, she missed her brother. Since he was hosting Sunday dinner today, she’d decided to head to his house early so she could talk to him privately before dinner.

J.P.’s country house was even more picturesque now that Tammy had completely redesigned the grounds and gardens. How lovely that she had planted her roots here at the very beginning, not knowing how they would intertwine with J.P.’s. Smoothing back her brown hair from her face, Susannah checked her reflection in the rearview mirror of her sporty Audi.

In her sermon this morning, Mama had told the story of a young mother who’d prayed for another child after losing her baby. After two years, God had finally answered her prayer. Susannah had been moved to tears, which wasn’t abnormal in one of her mama’s sermons. Mama usually messed up her makeup. But she looked more put together than she felt. Decent hair day despite the persistent humidity. Mauve lipstick on her lips. No mascara smudges around her green eyes. Presentable. Then she laughed at herself for sitting in her brother’s driveway and staring at herself in the mirror.

Someone rapped on her car window, and she jumped in her seat. Her brother’s grinning face peered inside. Great. He’d caught her primping.

She opened the car door and swung her legs out, rearranging her tan skirt over them.

“We have a full mirror inside if you’d like a better view, Narcissus.”

For that, he got a slight punch in the stomach before she hugged him. “Funny.”

“
Oh, Susannah, oh don’t you cry for me
,” he sang out in his fabulous voice, a long-time family joke.

“I still don’t know why God gave you such a beautiful voice when I sound like a frog.”

“You do?” a little voice asked. She looked over to see the son of her brother’s heart.

Rory was the sweetest boy alive, and though he was only seven, he was an old soul who’d seen things no kid should see. Moving to Dare River had brought some of his innocence and playfulness back, largely because her brother loved goofing around with him.

“Ask her to croak like one,” J.P. said, biting his lip to control his laughter.

“Can I hear you?” Rory asked.

He was so adorable with his little blond cowlick and polite manners that she let out a ribbit, and J.P. laughed himself into stitches.

Rory only stared at her and said, “That was really good.”

“She practices three times a week,” J.P. told Rory with a straight face.

“I’m going to kill you,” she muttered under her breath.

He grabbed her and pulled her close. “Best not. Mama wouldn’t like it if you committed one of the Big Ten. On a Sunday no less.”

The Big Ten. They’d always joked about that growing up. Preacher kid humor.

“I wanted to come over a little early so we could hang out,” Susannah said.

There was a ripple of surprise across J.P.’s face as he pulled back to look at her. “You did? What’s the matter?”

“Not a thing, darlin’,” she said with a smile. “I’ve just missed you is all.”

Understanding dawned in his eyes. While all the McGuiness siblings were close, Susannah and J.P. had always shared a special connection because they were the two eldest.

“I’ve missed you too, honey. Rory, why don’t you run inside and check on the dogs? Make sure they’re not driving your mama crazy.”

The little boy gave a “Yes, sir,” and ran off.

He reached for her hand. “Come on. Let’s take a walk by Dare River. You can catch me up on everything before the masses descend.”

She glanced at the house. “Are you sure you don’t want to check with Tammy? I don’t want her to have to get everything ready without any help.”

“Everything’s ready. She’s sitting down with Annabelle, telling her stories about the chocolate fairies. Annabelle wanted to know what happens to them when the plants die down in the fall and winter. She’s afraid she’ll lose her chocolate fix every morning.”

It was hard not to smile as they walked across the expanse of his yard toward the path that cut through the woods to the river. J.P and Tammy had concocted a magical story for the kids about chocolate fairies who lived in the chocolate garden Tammy had planted in J.P.’s yard. It had helped the kids feel safe here, and the piece of chocolate they got on their pillows each morning had become a much-loved tradition. All the McGuinesses were crazy for chocolate, so the garden—and the story that went with it—was now a part of family lore.

“Annabelle is a smarty,” she told her brother as a woodpecker drummed its bill against an oak tree above them.

“You bet. I’ll have to keep on my toes with that one. She never forgets a thing. We’re discovering she has her Aunt Amelia Ann’s penchant for remembering everything she reads. Of course, she’s only just started kindergarten, but still…it looks like an eidetic memory runs in the family. Her teachers are amazed.”

The stroll in the woods soothed her like it always did. Someday she would have a place in the country like her brother. She couldn’t wait to walk in the woods with her own children and tell them fantastical stories about chocolate fairies, sleeping beauties, and rosy-cheeked dwarves.

“You’re so lucky to have those kids, J.P.”

“Don’t I know it?” His steady steps brushed the leaves on the path, and she sensed he was choosing his words carefully. “You’ve been running off after church ends the last few weeks, and I wondered if you wanted to talk about it.”

She gave him a sharp glance. “Has Mama said anything?”

“No, but—” he said, letting an audible pause follow the word before he continued, “—there’s been some chatter. It’s not like you to leave before fellowship.”

A band of iron coiled around her diaphragm. “I’m so tired of people coming up to me and saying things like ‘Tick, tock, tick, tock, Susannah. You’re thirty now. Time to start spending less energy on your career and look for a man. God helps those who help themselves.’ Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah.”

He sighed. “You know age doesn’t matter when it comes to the heart. God will bring the right man when it’s time.”

Her head knew it. Her heart was getting frustrated. “Then why do I feel like everyone keeps pressuring me? Or making me feel bad for not having someone already? Don’t they know that sometimes I wonder why I’m alone too?”

“Hey, now,” he said softly, then stopped walking and reached for her hand. “We both know the people at church mean well. They just want the best for you. How many times did they rag on me about being unmarried?”

Her brother could be so dense sometimes. “But you’re a man, J.P. No one pities a man if he’s single and childless at thirty. No one says, ‘Oh, you’re too picky, honey. You’re not looking enough with your heart.’”

“That heart stuff is horse shit, Susannah, and you know it. No one has a more open heart than you do. As for you being picky? Good for you if you are. I don’t want you settling down with someone you aren’t completely crazy about. You need that when you’re cleaning up the kitchen together after a long day. Trust me. I may not be married—yet—but I know that much.”

His righteous anger on her behalf heartened her. “I don’t see you refuting what I said about it being different for men.”

He snorted. “Not touching that one with a ten-foot pole. Come back for fellowship, Susannah. I promise to guard you from any of the older ladies’ nasty comments or contrived introductions to their balding, overweight sons.”

“Heavens, there have been plenty of those lately. I want to flee whenever I see one of those biddies walk up with her son just as I’m grabbing a donut. Sadie and Shelby scatter. Every. Time. Not that I can blame them.”

He cleared his throat, and she was sure he was partially holding back his laughter. “I’ve witnessed it. None of those women have a clue about what kind of man would interest you.”

“I’m just feeling the pressure, okay? I thought I’d be married by now. Most of my friends are starting to have families. I feel like the odd one out.”

“And now you feel that way with me,” he said with that keen understanding of his.

She opened her mouth to reply, but he shook his head. “We’ll make more of an effort to find time to be together, just us. I’m learning how to balance all this newness too.”

“I love you, John Parker,” she said, using his full name because it seemed more heartfelt.

“I love you too, Susannah.”

They resumed their stroll, holding hands, and to temper any guilt he might have felt at her earlier statements, she asked about Tammy and the kids. From there, they delved into his work, and soon he turned his gaze to her.

“How’s business on your end?”

There was a red leaf in the shape of a heart on the path, and she leaned down to pick it up. Nature always had a way of mirroring one’s mood.

“Business is great. I signed three new clients this week and am wrapping up a big decorating job with the Frelicks, who live about five miles from here. They have the most beautiful Southern mansion I’ve ever seen.”

“I’m glad to hear you’re doing so well,” he said easily, swinging their hands. “Do you have time in your schedule to volunteer for something?”

They’d all been volunteering since well before they could spell the word. Their mama had always taught them to give back. “Sure. What’s up?”

“Well, as you know, Rye is doing a charity concert to raise awareness and money for domestic violence. I’d like a member of the McGuiness family to volunteer to help out.” He grabbed a snapped branch hanging at an angle over the path and threw it aside. “I would volunteer, but with Tammy…I want to see how she handles it. It strikes a mighty personal chord, however happy she is that he’s doing it.”

Every time she thought of what Tammy had gone through at the hands of her ex-husband, Susannah wanted to kick him in the nuts. Repeatedly. “I’d be happy to help in any way I can. But why not ask Sadie and Shelby too?”

His mouth twisted. “Don’t tell them I said this, but Rye and I talked about it. We thought you would be less likely to go gaga over Jake Lassiter. You’ll see him some in the lead-up to the concert. You know Sadie and Shelby.”

Yes, she did. Trouble with a capital T. “They probably wouldn’t pester him. Much.”

“Or ogle him. Much.” J.P. laughed. “You know how they were when I had him over to celebrate Tammy’s gardening business. They couldn’t stop giggling, so I made sure not to introduce them to him. Y’all were clustered together, which meant you didn’t meet him either.”