Page 16 of Divine Sense
“I’m just trying to provide outstanding service to a client. I try to be as polite and professional as I can.”Liar.
“Ugh, there’s that stupid word again.Professional.” She rolled her eyes and stuck her tongue out, looking like she’d just walked through horse poop left behind by one of the carriages that strolled down the main streets of Charleston. “You wanna know what I think?”
“Why do I feel like you’re going to tell me what you think whether I care to hear it or not?” My quick remark earned me another confident smirk from her.
With her arms leaning against the table, she locked her eyes on her target, ready to hit her mark with ease. She looked at me, the smirk on her face growing more with every passing second. The tension between us was so thick you could strum it like a guitar. I did my best to wall up the feelings I knew were growing inside of me as I sat across from her and watched as she aimed her words to hit her target dead on.
“I think you’re nice to me because you like me. And not in a ‘you’re my client’ kind of way.”
She watched and waited for me to respond and as I sat across her, I knew she’d caught me. Not just caught me in the feelings I knew were growing for her, but caught me in her web of attraction and desire. I knew, as she pierced straight through me with eyes that reminded me of expensive gemstones, that she’d never let me go.
What she didn’t know though, was that I was happy to have been caught.
11
MAGNOLIA
“Magnolia, can I count you and Daniel as two for this year’s Christmas party? I’m meeting with the caterer this week and need to give them a final headcount.”
I was sitting at the oversized antique table with my mother, helping her pick out invitations and linens for our family’s annual Christmas party which would be in two weeks. It had been nearly the same amount of time since I’d met Kolbi for coffee after my drunken night out. Part of me hoped he’d reach out, but he never did. I guess he meant what he said about keeping a professional relationship with his clients.
My hands sifted through the dozen or so samples of linens strewn across the table, looking for the perfect one. I always loved helping with the annual Christmas party as it was one of the few things my mother and I seemed to be able to connect over. As I held up a piece of cotton fabric, the texture of it reminded me of the bed I slept in at his place when he brought me home and took care of me.
“Magnolia?” The shrill of her voice brought me out of my thoughts and I looked at her. “Did you hear me? Honestly, I wish you would pay better attention.”
I took a breath before speaking and tried to steady my voice so it didn’t come out too harsh. “Well I’m paying attention now, Mother. What did you say?”
“I asked if Daniel would be coming to the Christmas party with you. I need to finalize the headcount for the caterers.” I had to turn away from her so she couldn’t see me roll my eyes.
“I’ve told you multiple times now, Daniel and I are over. So, no, he won’t be coming to the Christmas party with me this year.” I tried to speak calmly and politely to avoid an argument. When it came to Daniel, it was always my fault that we were no longer together and I didn’t have it in me today to fight with her. I just wanted to enjoy the planning process and get through the day without having her make me feel like I was a complete disappointment. She let out an exasperated breath and her shoulders slumped.
“I just don’t know why you won’t apologize to him. Daniel is a very sensible man and comes from a wonderful family. I’m sure if you?—”
“Mother, we have gone over this before,” I interrupted, my tone more firm and irritated than I intended. “Daniel cheated onme, not the other way around. I have nothing to apologize for and I won’t be made to be the bad guy in this situation. Can we please let this go and just focus on the party?” I watched as my mother set her shoulders back and pinched her lips together. The look she always gave me when I had upset her—a look I knew all too well after twenty-eight years of being her daughter. I opened my mouth to apologize for interrupting but didn’t get the chance before she stormed off. Manners were a big deal in our home and I hadn’t minded mine.
I tossed the piece of fabric I’d been holding down onto the table and slumped further into the 300-year-old chair. Almost on cue, Ms. Ruthie came in carrying a tray full of finger sandwiches and tea; mine and my mother’s usual meal when we planned this party.
“What’s wrong, sugar?” Her tender voice vibrated across the room, thick with her Southern drawl, and brought me a sense of warmth I rarely felt while I was in this house.
“I can never do anything right in her eyes.” I waved my hand in front of me towards where my mother had walked away and tried to blink the tears back. There was almost nothing in the world that I wanted more than for her to accept who I was and the decisions I made. But at every turn, it felt like I could do nothing but let her down.
“Oh, sugar, your mama loves you.” Ms. Ruthie had moved to stand next to where I was sitting and rested her hand on my shoulder. The feeling of it felt like an anchor, keeping me steady in the midst of a brewing storm. “She might have a different way of showing it, but she does.”
“Yeah if ‘showing it’ means making me feel like absolute shit all the time.” Ms. Ruthie clicked her tongue at me which was her silent way of scolding me for letting the swear slip. She was as traditional as Southern women came and to her, ‘true ladies never swear.’
“I’m sorry, I’m just so frustrated with this whole situation. Daniel cheated onmeand for whatever reason, I’m in the wrong. She just can’t get it through her head that we aren’t getting back together no matter how many times I tell her.” I threw my hands into the air and let them fall into my lap. Ms. Ruthie brushed my hair down with her wrinkled hand and leaned down to kiss me on top of the head just like she did when I was a girl. Her kisses were sometimes the only form of maternal affection I got.
“Don’t mind what she thinks. It’s your life, sugar, you need to live it in a way that makes you proud and you deserve to do so with people who value and respect you.”
“So can I live it without my mother?” I quipped, throwing the metaphorical knife at her even though she was already gone. “Because she doesn’t seem to respect me all that much.”
Ms. Ruthie laughed from deep in her belly and it was the kind of laugh you could feel in your bones. She swiped a soft hand down my head again and leaned over my shoulder from behind my chair before speaking again.
“Unfortunately, sugar, family is family and while we may not see eye to eye with them, sometimes we need to do our best to show them how to be better. Because, before ya know it, you might wake up and realize you have no family left.” She squeezed my shoulder and started back towards the kitchen, her words causing my heart to squeeze in my chest knowing that she was talking about herself. Ms. Ruthie had lived in our house my entire life, working for my parents but mostly acting as my caretaker. She had told me stories of her family and how much she missed them as many of them had passed on or moved far away. She was all on her own and hearing her words reminded me of how much I still had.
Before pushing the swinging door open, she turned and gave me a smile that was aged and weathered but full of love. Her dark as night but warm like the sun eyes paired with the wink she gave me lifted my spirits and made me feel the tiniest bit better. I took another deep breath and tried to shake off the interaction with my mother before returning to the samples on the table. After waiting for nearly an hour for her to come back and help, I decided to leave my picks for linens and invites on the table along with a note letting her know I would be back in a few days to go over the decorations with the party planner if she still wanted me to.
As I walked by the kitchen, I saw Ms. Ruthie helping some of the other staff polish the silver and when she looked at me, I tugged on my ear and gave her a smile which she returned without pause. On my drive home, I let my mind wander as I drove under the hundred-year-old oak trees that canopied the street and over the bridge back to my townhouse downtown. I wondered about the Christmas party and who would come and about how it would be four hours of schmoozing the important people of Charleston in an attempt to get them to vote for my father. While this was the annual Sinclair Christmas party, he was using it as an unofficial campaign event to get more sponsors and votes for his run for senate. Normally these parties weren’t bad because I always had Daniel or Margaret to keep me company. This year I’d be an orphan as Margaret was spending the holiday in Paris with her parents and Daniel was, well, not my boyfriend anymore.
