Page 28 of Just a Number (Magnolia Row #2)

MICAH

J ust get through the day.

Get through the day, and tomorrow I can deal with whatever shit my mother dragged in. I can figure things out with Rhodes, and I can try to find my new normal.

All I need is to get through this day. One heavy step at a time.

At least my dress is a “good cut for a big girl.” I roll my eyes every time those words echo in my brain. It’s not surprising, coming from my mother, but I wish she hadn’t said them in front of Rhodes. I already feel like we’re mismatched somehow without anyone bringing it to his attention.

We hardly talk on the way to the coffee shop. I want to forget everything from this morning and focus on saying goodbye to my nana. While Rhodes drives, I close my eyes and focus on my breathing, hoping this will calm me enough to not fall apart.

When we arrive, Sistine has a table reserved for us in the back corner, and Patsy and Kendall are waiting.

“Oh, honey, you look beautiful,” says Patsy, giving me a big hug.

“You do,” says Kendall, who also squeezes me.

They each give Rhodes a hug in turn, and we sit as Sistine approaches with tea, coffee, and bagels. Once we’re fed, Sistine sits with us and I proceed to tell them about my mother arriving with her chaos.

“She can’t stay there,” says Sistine. “That should be your house.”

“Surely Nana had a will,” says Kendall. “She planned for everything else.”

I shake my head. “I can’t think about any of that right now. I’ll deal with it later.”

“Of course,” says Patsy. “But if we need to go over there and kick her out, you let me know. I’ll throw her in the back of Garion’s truck and haul her you-know-what out of town. Maybe we can feed her to Kendall’s alligator.”

This gives us the laugh we very much need, and we spend the rest of breakfast talking about the chilly but cooperative weather, how many people we expect to see at the service, and Kendall’s movie star boyfriend coming back to town.

By the time we leave, I’m feeling more relaxed and at peace with what I have to do.

The visitation, the service, and lunch go by in a fog.

Most of Magnolia Row turns up, and Patsy has to stand beside me and remind me of who some people are.

Rhodes stands at a polite distance throughout, checking on me frequently and calming me simply by being there.

Every time I look up to see him across the room, I feel stronger.

My mother, on the other hand, is all over the place. She goes from crying with Nana’s friends to laughing with people from her high school class. She sees this as The Christa Show, and I struggle to not show my annoyance.

“Ignore her,” Sistine whispers several times under her breath.

Apart from my mother, the day is nice. Everyone has lovely things to say about Nana, and even Pauline Cavendish, dressed head-to-toe in black sequins and wearing a giant hat with a fake crow glued to the top, shows up at the visitation to pay respects.

For the first time in my life, I appreciate her “airing out her crazy,” as Nana always said.

She looks completely absurd, but it makes me laugh, which I need.

“Your grandmama was the only woman in town worth a damn,” Pauline says to me before giving my mother a dirty look. “Good luck with that one,” she adds, nodding towards my mom, who is telling a story to someone I don’t recognize and waving her hands around like a drama queen.

With that, Pauline walks to the back and says something to Rhodes. He blushes, then looks at me as she leaves. I wonder what she said, but I don’t have time to think too much about it before the next person in line is waiting to give me a hug.

When we’re finally alone in the car once it’s all over, I ask Rhodes about it.

“She said I’m an idiot if I don’t snatch you up,” he says. “I know she’s a lunatic, but I think she really loved your nana.”

“Everyone did,” I say, then quietly cry as he drives me home.

* * *

D ozens of people show up at home with more food and more flowers. Patsy even has to pus some of the casseroles her car to put in her freezer since I ran out of room.

By evening, everyone clears out save Rhodes and my mother. Patsy has to get home to her kids, Kendall’s boyfriend is leaving tomorrow to go back to LA, and Sistine has to go to the coffee shop to make sure her employees cleaned and closed the store properly.

“Well,” my mom says, “I told a guy I went to high school with I’d meet him up at Cattywampus for some drinks.”

I’m sitting on the couch next to Rhodes when she says this. We’re holding hands and I’m leaning on him.

“How long are you staying?” I ask, knowing full well this is a loaded question.

My mom cocks her head to the side and looks like she’s bewildered I’d ask.

“Well, this is my house now,” she says.

My heart sinks. I do not want to deal with this.

“Nana left you the house?” I ask.

“I’m her only daughter. Of course she did.”

“Did she have a will?” I’m struggling to hide the contempt in my voice.

My mom storms out of the room and comes back with a document that looks like it was signed by Nana. It’s short, barely two pages. Rhodes and I read through it, and it says all her property and assets are to go to my mother. Rhodes says nothing, but gives me a concerned look.

“We’ll talk about the store and everything later,” she says. “I gotta go.” She grabs her jacket and purse and walks out the door.

My stomach turns and my face gets hot. “I feel sick,” I say to Rhodes.

“Micah, we can talk to a lawyer. This doesn’t look like a properly probated will and?—"

I hold up my hand to stop him from talking.

“My brain can only process so much at a time, and I’m way beyond my bandwidth for the day,” I say. “Maybe for the month.”

“I understand,” he says.

I shake my head. “I can’t stay here with her,” I say.

“We can get a room at the hotel.”

I nod and get up to pack my bags while Rhodes also collects his things. My entire body feels heavy as I grab my clothes, a few books, and my favorite pink blanket.

Rhodes meets me in the living room, takes my bags, and loads them in his car. I stand in my living room, looking around in disbelief. The only life I’ve ever known is over. The person most important to me in the world is gone. My home is gone. My store and my career are probably gone too.

How do people get through this? It’s physically painful. Every fiber of my being is heavy and screaming “no.” The simple act of walking feels like dragging lead.

“I hate to say this,” Rhodes says, coming back into the house. “But if there’s anything of your grandmother’s of any value, sentimental or otherwise, you may want to take it with you.”

He has a point. I walk back to her room, stepping over the mounds of bags and loose clothes my mother left scattered all over the place.

I grab a Piggly Wiggly tote full of my mother’s shoes, dump it in the floor, and place Nana’s jewelry box inside.

I also grab some photos, a Wedgwood ring tray, and Waterford crystal cross she bought on a trip to Ireland with my grandfather.

I also take the orange and brown crocheted afghan off the bed and hold it to my face.

It still smells like Nana, and it’s all I can do to keep from sobbing.

Rhodes leads me to the car, his hand on my back. I take one last look at the house as he drives me to the hotel.