Page 17 of Just a Number (Magnolia Row #2)

MICAH

F or the entire week after Labor Day, Nana and I are busy rearranging the store and cataloguing everything we bought the week before.

Patsy’s husband Garion and his brother had to come on Wednesday after hours to help me move and reassemble some of the heavier pieces, and by Friday, we have a packed store full of new-to-us items.

I’ve only had brief texts with Garrett since I saw him in Montgomery. If I’m being honest with myself, I much prefer the company of the definitely-successful, intelligent, sexy architect over the insecure, who-knows-if-he-even-has-a-real-job, boring computer guy.

When I take a step back and compare the two, it’s comical.

There is no comparison. Rhodes is leaps and bounds better than Garrett.

The problem is I still don’t feel like I’m good enough for him, and it makes me uncomfortable.

He could get any thin, confident, educated girl he wants. Why would he want me?

I’m walking through the store with my phone, recording a video to show off our new products on social media, when I catch Nana standing in her office door, giving me an amused look.

“You know the chandelier you asked about?”

“For Rhodes?”

“That’s the one. I called Julian since I figured he would know what happened to it.”

“And?”

“You’re never going to guess who has it.”

My heart sinks. “Pauline.”

Nana laughs. “The one and only.”

“Well, so much for that.”

“No, I think if we go over there?—"

“Nana, I am NOT going to Pauline Cavendish’s house.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t want to die.”

“Oh, she’s harmless.”

I make a face. She knows the stories about that crazy old bat better than I do.

“Well, maybe not always,” Nana continues, “but I can handle her.”

I shake my head. “I’ll let Rhodes know.”

I text Rhodes to let him know we found the chandelier, and he says he’ll be in town next Friday to see it. We make plans for dinner, which sends butterflies all through my gut.

At least I have a week to plan my outfit.

* * *

T hat night I meet Kendall, Sistine, and Patsy at Cattywampus. We get our usual high top in the center of the room where we have a good 360-degree view of everyone and everything for optimal gossip.

“Soooo,” says Patsy, looking at me. “What’s the latest on SAM?”

“Who?” I ask. It’s a common enough name, but I still don’t know a Sam.

“Sexy Architect Man!” She gives me a huge smile, showing off the adorable little gap between her two front teeth.

“Seriously?” I ask.

“Patsy’s been calling him that in our group chat,” says Sistine.

“What group chat? I haven’t seen this.”

“The one we have to talk about you and your love life behind your back,” says Patsy.

“She wasn’t supposed to know about it,” says Sistine.

“This is all very enlightening,” I say. “It must be a boring thread.”

“Garion said SAM was with you and your Nana at an estate sale last week.”

“Well, yes, but?—"

“He’s spending time with Nana too!” says Kendall. “That’s promising! Does she like him?”

“She loves him, but that’s not?—"

“Have you gone out again?”

“No. He asked me out, but I had plans with Garrett.”

They all slump back in their chairs and look at me like I’m a moron. I can’t disagree with them.

“What?”

“You turned down a date with Sexy Architect Man for a loser who uses you when it’s convenient for him?” asks Patsy.

“He didn’t stand you up this time, did he?” asks Sistine.

“No, I saw him.”

My face must’ve fallen, because Kendall reaches out and grabs my arm. “Are you okay, Micah?” she asks in her sweet Kendall way. “You look so sad.”

“I’m fine, it’s just… I don’t know. I’m getting bored with Garrett.”

“Praise Jesus!” says Patsy, loud enough the people at the table next to us turn to stare.

“What about SAM?” asks Kendall.

“His name is Rhodes.”

“Whatever,” says Sistine. “Are you seeing him again?”

“Yes, Nana made sure we exchanged numbers.”

“Thank God for Nana,” says Patsy.

I roll my eyes at her. “We’re going to go out a week from tonight when he’s back in town.”

Patsy squeals, again drawing attention to our table, and Kendall claps like I won the lottery.

“Micah,” says Sistine in all seriousness, “don’t freak out and get insecure on him. You deserve to be happy. If he’s going to treat you well and go out of his way to get to know you, be open to it. If he’s asking you out, he obviously thinks you’re good enough.”

Damn her. She knew what I was thinking without me saying a word.

“I’ll try. I promise.”

* * *

R hodes meets Nana and me at the store a week later to ride to Pauline’s house.

He’s as handsome as ever, hands in his pockets and bright-eyed as the morning sun.

He’s had a haircut, which only makes the angles of his face look more pronounced and masculine.

And he smells like Adonis. I swear I could get drunk on him.

Nana gives him a hug and tells him as much.

We take Rhodes’ car since he offers to drive, and I let Nana have the front seat so I can admire him from behind.

She directs him to Pauline’s massive Greek revival house a few blocks off Magnolia Row’s main historic district.

The azaleas in front are unkempt and the grass hasn’t been cut in ages, but it’s easy to see the former majesty of the house.

Shame it’s home to an absolute witch.

“She knows we’re coming, right?” I ask as we get out of the car.

“No, she doesn’t have a phone,” says Nana. She closes the car door and approaches the house like she’s expected.

Rhodes has a worried look, and I grab his arm as we walk behind Nana. “We’re gonna die!” I whisper, and he chuckles before putting his hand on mine.

Nana ascends the stairs onto the wide front porch and rings the doorbell. Then we wait.

And wait.

She rings again, then goes to peer in the floor-length windows.

Apparently seeing someone, she waves. A moment later, Pauline is at the door.

She’s fully dressed in what looks like shiny silver pajamas, which sets off her white hair.

Her face is full of gaudy makeup, and she’s wearing even more jewelry than she was the day she showed up at the estate sale.

She’s holding a cocktail and is clearly drunk.

“Barbara Bonaventure. What the hell are you doing here?” she asks, one arm above her head as she leans on the door.

“Good to see you again, Pauline. We were wondering about something you bought a while back. Can we come in?”

“No. Tell Julian I’ll send him a check when I’m ready to.”

“We’re not here for Julian,” says Nana. “It’s about an item from the old hotel by the river.”

“Oh yes, the Florablanca Inn. I heard some out-of-town money bought it up.”

“They did,” says Nana. “You remember Rhodes from the other day? He’s the architect overseeing the restoration.”

Pauline turns her attention to Rhodes, looking at him like she hadn’t noticed him standing there until this moment.

“You were at the estate sale.”

“I was, yes.”

“What do you want with me?” she asks, suddenly taking interest. “You know, I haven’t had a man—" She starts to walk towards him, but Nana grabs her hand.

“He’s here on business, Pauline. Julian said you bought the chandelier that was in the hotel lobby.”

“I did.”

“Do you still have it?” asks Rhodes.

“I reckon I do somewhere.”

“You don’t know?” I ask. How can you not know if or where you have an entire chandelier?

She looks at me and stares. “That’s none of your business, girl.”

I roll my eyes.

“Pauline,” says Nana, “we’re looking to buy it from you so it can go back into the hotel.”

She takes a sip of her drink and tilts her head back. “It won’t be cheap.”

“My client has deep pockets,” says Rhodes.

“Come on, then. It’s out back, but we’ll have to go through the house since the fence fell.”

We follow her through the house, stopping to retrieve a set of hidden keys from a hallway buffet table. It smells like rotten plants and old perfume. A thick layer of dust covers almost everything, and the rooms are more packed than the ones at the estate sale a few weeks ago.

“Sorry about the mess,” she says. “My maid quit on me about twenty years back.”

“I can’t imagine why,” I say under my breath. Rhodes hears me and puts a finger to his lips.

We reach to the back porch, which is covered in old furniture that’s warped and rotten from being exposed to the weather. I shake my head. A lot of these pieces were probably beautiful at some point.

“Watch out for snakes,” Pauline says as we navigate the weeds.

Once we get to the carriage house at the back of the property, Pauline unlocks the door but is unable to open it due to the underbrush. Rhodes steps forward to help, kicking the weeds back while pulling on the decaying wood slab until it’s finally ajar enough for us to slip inside.

The carriage house is in even worse shape than the main house.

An old Mercedes convertible is parked on the left side, but the top has been eaten through and the interior has started to rot.

Countless paintings and vintage mirrors are leaning against the walls, and an open chifforobe reveals moldy, tattered clothing.

It reeks of must and decay, and I can’t help but cover my face with my cardigan to keep from breathing in the dust and mold.

Once my eyes adjust to the dim light, I see on the right side of the room, opposite the car, a huge lump covered in a dirty white sheet.

Pauline, still nursing her cocktail, grabs a corner and tries to pull it back, but it catches.

Rhodes motions for her to step back, and I help him carefully remove the sheet to reveal the chandelier.

It’s resting at a catty-corner angle, but it’s still striking.

It’s tiered like a wedding cake, and each layer has elegant looping arms curling up to hold the candle-shaped lights.

Hundreds, if not thousands, of crystals adorn every inch of the piece, and even in this dark, awful space, it’s easy to appreciate how beautiful it once was.

I look at Rhodes, whose face is alight as he stares open-mouthed.

“Pauline, why did you buy this if you were just going to hide it back here?” Nana asks.

“Ruth Cottar wanted it for Finnegan House.” Nana rolls her eyes as Pauline continues. “I really hate that bitch.”

“Well, if you’re willing to part with it, my client would absolutely want to purchase it from you.”

“Good luck getting it out,” she says.

Rhodes takes some photos with his phone and we follow Nana and Pauline back to the main house.

“Y’all want a cocktail?” Pauline asks when we get back into the air conditioning.

“Better not,” says Nana. “We have to get back to the store.”

“How can I reach you about the chandelier?” asks Rhodes.

“Well, I’m always here,” she says, as if the notion of reaching her by phone or email is simply ridiculous. “Besides, gives you a reason to come back and let me have another look at you.”

He smiles politely as we leave.