Page 16 of Just a Number (Magnolia Row #2)

RHODES

I think about going to Cattywampus, but I feel weird being the lone guy at the bar, especially in a place where everyone knows everyone else. So, after spending a lonely night in my hotel room eating Big Ol’ Butts BBQ take-out again, I drive back to Birmingham at the crack of dawn.

I keep obsessing over whether Micah had a date last night. It was probably with someone younger who is closer to where she is in life. Someone without gray hair or a son in grad school. Someone who could give her a future with kids, PTA meetings, the whole nine yards.

Once I get to my loft, I text my son to check in, then dig Micah’s number out of my bag. I program it into my phone, then type her a message.

Hi Micah, it’s Rhodes. I made it home to Bham. I hope you have fun plans for the holiday weekend. Let me know if you want to meet up next time I’m in Magnolia Row.

It’s Labor Day weekend. The city should be relatively quiet, with most people going to the beach or lake houses to celebrate before the funky fall weather sets in.

I sit on the cold leather couch without turning on the television and stare at my phone. I’d forgotten how insecure dating makes a person.

Finally, my phone dings. It’s my son. He assures me he’s doing well and doesn’t need anything. He’s going to Lake Martin for the weekend with some of his friends from undergrad, and agrees to meet me for dinner on Monday on his way back through town.

I leave the phone on the coffee table and unpack my bag. I’m starting a load of laundry when I hear another message come through. Like a schoolboy with a crush, I drop what I’m doing and run to check it. I get butterflies when I see Micah’s name.

Hey! I forgot it was a holiday weekend! No plans yet, but I’ll see what my girlfriends are up to. Glad you made it back home okay. And yes, let me know next time you’re in town. I’d love to do dinner or something.

Part of me wants to be nosy and ask her how last night went, but the other part of me doesn’t want to know. At least she mentioned hanging out with her girlfriends specifically, which tells me she doesn’t have plans with whoever my competition may be.

And—the best part—she wants to see me again.

I respond that I’ll let her know as soon as I make plans to head back her way.

Once I finish getting my laundry going, I make a grocery list, head to the store, and come home with enough food to ensure I won’t have to leave until it’s time to meet my son for dinner on Monday.

I settle on the couch, turn on college football, grab my briefcase, and dig out the photo album from the museum in Magnolia Row.

I’m flipping through the pages, examining each photo meticulously to make sure I haven’t missed anything, when something in a photo of the lobby catches my eye.

Right above the fountain in the lobby is an elegant line of crystals hanging from the ceiling.

If I had to guess, it’s the bottom section of a massive chandelier that once graced the thirty-foot space in the entry.

I take a picture of it and text Micah, asking if she knows what happened to it. She responds quickly, saying she doesn’t but her grandmother can check into it. I thank her, then settle back into a quiet weekend alone.

* * *

M onday night finally rolls around after a lonely weekend and I’m meeting my son at Tasty Town for dinner.

He looks good, not too stressed yet, though it is only his first semester of law school.

We order hummus and entrees and he tells me about his professors, trying to develop new study habits to keep up, and his anxieties about moot court.

“What about you, Dad? The new firm going well?”

I tell him about Magnolia Row, the hotel, and even Micah and her grandmother. He’s smiling the whole time I’m talking.

“What is it?” I ask. “You’re grinning ear to ear.”

“I haven’t seen you this excited about anything since… well, since ever.”

“That’s not true. I’ve been excited for everything you’ve done.”

“Not like this. You’re so animated today. It’s a nice change, even if it is a little strange.”

“Thank you, I guess.”

“Are you seeing someone?” he asks, which completely comes out of the blue. He’s never once asked me about my love life. I’m taken aback and fidget with my almost-empty water glass while trying to think of what to say.

“Sorry to pry,” he says. “You never talk about it. I thought it may explain why you’re so happy all of a sudden.”

“Well, this project is the biggest thing I’ve worked on in a long time, and it’s coming together really nicely. It’s everything I wanted to do when I quit my job. But, if I’m being honest, the girl who owns the antique shop with her grandmother…. Well, she’s special.”

Mason’s face lit up. “So you do have a girlfriend?”

“No, no, no. We had one lunch date and said we’d see each other next time I’m in town. It’s very early. While I do like her, I have some reservations.”

“Like what?”

This feels like an out-of-body experience. I never thought I’d talk to my son about dating. Ever.

“She’s younger. She’s only thirty. Hell, she’s closer to your age than mine.” I sigh and run my fingers through my hair. “I’m still trying to wrap my head around it.”

“If she likes you, and you’re on the same page, it shouldn’t matter.”

Somehow, hearing the validation from Mason calms my anxiety like a blanket on a fire. Having his stamp of approval is everything to me.

“Maybe you’re right. We’ll see where it goes. It’s still early.”

“Well,” says Mason, “I want to see this hotel when it’s done. It sounds incredible.”

“It will be, yes.”

We eat dinner, talk sports, and he gets back in his car to drive to Tuscaloosa. I stand in the empty street and watch his taillights disappear. It’s a strange thing when your child becomes your peer, but I wouldn’t trade it for the world. He’s my best friend.

I return to my loft, trying to think of a reason to text Micah, but fall asleep before coming up with anything.

That night, I dream of dancing with her in the sparkling ballroom of the Florablanca Inn.