The Magnolia Affair (18 page)

On Election Day, Paxton Tanner became the next state senator from our district. He was humble and gracious. He promised his constituents to listen to all of them, no matter their affinity for blue or red. His speech was televised across the state, because his story had become popular. He was popular. I watched it from his couch while Pepper slept at my feet.

Paxton was right. Voters forgave. They also forgot.

We spent the holidays together in a cabin we rented in Vail. My family was upset and confused I didn’t come home for Christmas, but they knew I was mourning Spencer. I wasn’t sure Avery would want me to invade her cheery time at home. It was better for everyone if I stayed away.

Worse than that were the calls from Spencer’s mom. She wanted to see me, wanted some reminder of her son over the holidays. The problem was, I didn’t.

I didn’t want anything to be the same. Everything had to be different. Vail was different. My life with Pax was different.

He dropped the bags on the living room floor. I looked around our cabin, if you could call it that. It was more like a winter palace.

“This is incredible.” The fireplace was lit. There was a twelve-foot Christmas tree in the corner. There were wrapped white and gold boxes under the limbs. I smelled dinner in the oven.

“You like it?” he asked.

I looped my arms around his neck. “It’s beautiful. When you said we were renting a cabin I pictured a one-bedroom log cabin for some reason. A week of flannel and drinking beer. Maybe we would hang up a wreath.”

He chuckled. “It’s Christmas time. I tend to go over the top.”

He pulled my hands from around his neck and squeezed them. “Where’s your ring?” He traced the empty place on my finger.

I reached into my pocket and slipped the rock over my knuckle. “I-I just wanted to wait until we were out of town.”

He kissed my forehead. “I understand. You’re not ready for everyone to know about our relationship.” He led me to the fireplace. The heat felt good. “But soon everyone will know that you’re going to be my wife. Soon. And then you can wear it everyday.”

I closed my eyes and leaned against his chest. “Pax, I still need more time. I’m sorry. The holidays are bringing up a lot of memories.”

He tilted my chin with his forefinger. “Don’t apologize. We’re here together. We’re getting married. If you need a little time to get your bearings I get that.”

“Thank you,” I whispered. It was good to be out of Charleston. Away from my boxes of Christmas ornaments and Spence’s tacky blinking lights. Away from the silly stockings we had given each other. Away from the holiday parties.

“Do you think you’ll always wear the other ring, though?” His eyes locked on my right hand.

“Does it bother you?”

“I know it’s sentimental, Audrey, but another man put that on your finger. I don’t wear the one Sarah gave me. It’s in my dresser drawer. At
home
.”

I yanked on the platinum band. I hadn’t thought it would make Pax uncomfortable. The truth was I didn’t consider his feelings when I looked at it.

“I’m not asking you to take it off.” He squeezed my shoulders.

I shook my head. “I know, but you’re right. I can’t wear your ring on one hand and Spence’s on the other.” I wedged my wedding band into my pocket where the engagement ring had been.

He grinned.

“How about a couple of drinks?” He walked to the bar. It was stocked with every liquor imaginable.

“Sounds good.” I nodded.

He placed a couple of glasses on the granite top and started to pour us generous servings of brandy. His phone rang.

“Tanner,” he answered. “Yep. Yep. I think I could bring them on board. They’re old family friends…yep…we could use their support.”

He handed a glass to me and walked into another room, the phone pressed to his ear.

I curled up on the couch, savoring the brandy as it warmed me from within. We might have been leaving as much of Charleston behind as we could, but I knew the future was always going to be tugging on Pax.

The chalet was decadent right down to the bearskin rug. It could have housed several large families for the holidays. It was an extravagant trip—something I never would have been able to afford.

I watched the flames flicker.

He returned ten minutes later and sat next to me on the couch. It was snowing and everything outside had a white glow, even in the dark.

“Sorry about that. We’re working on adding to the donor list. I need big names.”

“I thought you had big names.”

“I need bigger.” He took a swig of brandy.

“Don’t people know you’re on vacation?” I questioned. “It’s Christmas.”

“It doesn’t really work like that. I’m not going to be governor without the backing the campaign needs. I’m kind of at their mercy right now.”

“I’m not sure how I feel about that.” I stared at the falling snow.

“Look, it’s going to be hectic for awhile, but we’ll figure this out together. I need you to support my career. I can’t do it if you’re not on board.”

“I do support you. I never saw myself in politics. It’s just so different, Pax. And it’s Christmas. Can’t we just have this?”

“I know, baby.” He took the glass from me and placed it on the table. “But I need you to understand this is part of who I am. This is my life.” He twisted my body until I was directly under him. “I need you.”

“I need you too.”

He kissed me. I arched toward him, drinking the brandy off his lips. My hands clinging to his back. The ring on my left hand sparkling in the firelight as he shed every stitch of clothing from our bodies.

I convinced him to wait until the spring to announce our engagement. Eight months would still seem undeniably quick to the public, but considering we were previously involved, it might not come across as rushed. His team had a way to spin our story into a tragic love story. We were suffering losses from our spouses and only together we could heal. It was masterfully choreographed.

The polling numbers hadn’t changed. The “Tanner for Governor” campaign would kick off in a year. Although, I knew it was already underway. The fundraising dinners were almost nightly. It took millions to be governor.

As soon as we returned from Vail Pax gave me the task of finding our new home. He said he would take care of selling both of ours, but he wanted me to choose a new place that would make me happy. A place we could start our life together.

He was in Columbia most days I met with our realtor, but I accepted that this was a way I could help him—lessen his workload.

It took a few months, but I finally settled on a house in a gated beach community. The rooms were large. The porch stretched from one end to the other. It looked nothing like our old neighborhood. I was certain it would be a fresh start for both us, but I knew it was more important to me than Pax. He would have been just as happy if I had moved into his house.

It fit our criteria. It was in his district and it was devoid of memories. Of course, we couldn’t move in until we were married. We were trying to let our relationship progress publically, and many constituents wouldn’t approve of our arrangement if we hadn’t exchanged vows. However, I could spend the next few months moving things in and planning the décor. We were going to start hosting dinner parties and lunches for our political friends. It had to look like a governor’s home.

The boxes were marked with large white labels. My handwriting scrawled across each one. I remembered how I used to take my time to make sure each letter was perfectly formed on the chalkboard. I had teacher handwriting, people used to tell me.

The hall closet was empty. It was easy, when I threw everything in trash bags. I looked at the black trash bag filled with teacher mugs and apple frames. I didn’t need them at the new house. I wasn’t a teacher anymore.

I insisted on packing up the house myself. I didn’t want Paxton involved. It was the last bit of my former life memorialized inside these walls. I didn’t want him intruding. Of course, that would hurt his feelings. Crush him, really. But I used all the excuses I could fabricate to keep him from helping. It worked, and I took two weeks sorting, packing, and trashing what was left of my life with Spence.

“Knock, knock! Audrey?”

I heard Cricket’s voice from my bedroom. I walked into the kitchen. They were all there. My neighbors from book club. The women who had taken us in when we first moved here six years ago.

“Hi.” I smiled.

“I’m glad we didn’t miss you,” Mrs. Ellerby broke the silence.

“No, I haven’t left yet.”

“I can’t wait to see the new house,” Jill added. “I’ve heard good things about that neighborhood.”

“Thanks. Yes, we’ll have to have you over.”

“Do you need any help?” Cricket surveyed the kitchen. “A few extra hands could make this go a lot faster.”

“No. I’m almost done. I’m just bagging up the rest of my clothes.” I had decided the clothes I could take. The rest was off to Avery or Goodwill.

“You sure, honey? We’d love to do something.”

“I appreciate it. Really. And thanks for stopping by. I was going to come see you all before I left.” We all knew that wouldn’t happen, but it sounded nice to say it. I could pretend I was the neighbor who did those things. The neighbor I always wanted to be.

“We got you a little parting gift.” Cricket held up a gift bag.

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“Well, since it seems you won’t be at the school anymore and who knows where Paxton’s career will take you, we just wanted you to remember us.” She waited for me to take it.

I tugged on the blue tissue paper, and pulled out a framed picture. “Oh, I never saw this.”

“We took it last summer at Tina’s book club. She was all geared up to start a blog and never did. Remember?”

“I do.” I nodded. It was also the first night I met Paxton. “It’s really nice. Thank you. I’ll find the perfect spot for it in the new house.”

They smiled and started shuffling toward the door. I hugged each one, knowing our paths probably wouldn’t cross again.

“Bye.” I waved and watched them filter across my lawn.

The for-sale sign had tipped over in the last rainstorm. I walked out and positioned it to standing. I looked up at the house. The perfect green grass. The wraparound porch. I had been happy here. Until I wasn’t.