Whispered Southern Secrets (Magnolia Grove #11)

Chapter 6

Chapter Six

Honey

I’m not attracted to the preacher. I’m not attracted to the preacher. I am in no way actually feeling attraction to the man standing at the podium. It would be preposterous. Okay, fine. I am and it’s a mistake and I need to figure out a way to end these pesky feelings. I look up to the cross hanging in our church and silently pray.

God. You and I both know what’s happening here. I’m not sure why you’re testing everyone in here with a pulse by having your most gorgeous creation stand before us and expect us to remain pure in thought. I would like to take this moment to say bravo on the craftsmanship. He truly is a work of art. Henry Cavill is your best work, in my humble opinion, but he’s on up there. I need strength. I’m trying to be the granddaughter Mimi and Pepaw deserve. I know the one-night stand was wrong. Believe me, it will never happen again. Lesson learned. Please now let me find this man less attractive. I know you have bigger issues, and you know what… never mind. There are so many worse things happening in the world. Sorry. I’m sorry. I’m wasting your time. Thank you for all my blessings. Thank you for Mimi and Pepaw. Thank you for my health.

“Honey,” Mimi whispers.

I stop praying and open my eyes to my grandmother. “I’m sorry. Yes?”

“We’re standing up to sing the hymn, sweetheart. I was worried you’d fallen asleep.”

“No, I was praying.”

I take the hymnal and stand. Mimi leans closer to me. “That was a long prayer. You okay?”

“Not even close. But I will be.”

Mrs. Jinny must be having trouble with her fingers because she starts to play but stops and begins massaging her hands. J.D. doesn’t hesitate. He slides on to the bench next to his mama and begins playing with her. The moment warms my heart. A man who loves his mother so much can’t be bad. Then again, didn’t Norman Bates adore his mother? I’ve been wrong about men before. I lack good judgment when it comes to the male species. Yet I know—I know—J.D. is a good one. He’s sharing the piano bench with his mother so she can still play a few notes to keep doing what she loves.

I’ve been viewing him with so much prejudice. It’s been three years and we’ve both gone through some changes in that time. Plus, J.D. was right. I needed to let go of my anger. I’m always on guard with everyone. Even when I’m pretending that I’m happy and everything’s fine. It’s not fine. And it won’t be until I let go. J.D. told me to let go and give it to God. I look up to the ceiling again. Doesn’t seem fair to pass this mess onto to anyone. I know He can handle it but why should He have to? All the signs were there before I got myself into this, so I need to own it and work through it.

I’m easily angered because I’m insecure about having gone through a divorce so young, and knowing I went into that marriage when there were enough red flags to sail the seas—yet I thought I could play captain. The church my parents attend flat out disowned me. The sign that says All Are Welcome, apparently it’s for decoration and doesn’t mean literally all. They told me if I wasn’t going to “do the right thing and save my marriage,” then not to return. My parents still attend. Mimi wasn’t appalled and told me to get to Magnolia Grove. I put off coming here for a long time. I wanted the divorce to be final and no loose ends. Then I didn’t want to put Mimi and Pepaw in any uncomfortable situations. Like what I experienced with Mrs. Lamshire.

Speaking of, I watch as at the end of service she approaches J.D. with a pretty brunette. J.D. smiles and shakes their hands. God really did go all out for him. He was so handsome. So handsome. I start to look away but then all three heads turn to me. Mrs. Lamshire and Peggy begin walking toward me. Mimi is on one side of me and there’s people blocking the other side of me. Looks like I have no choice but to jump over this pew.

“Honey, you look as pretty as picture.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Lamshire.” I’m already on edge. She’s being… nice. It’s disturbing.

Mrs. Lamshire looks over her shoulder and then back to me. “I realize my comment was out of line.”

Mimi’s brows furrow. “What comment?”

“That’s quit all right, Mrs. Lamshire. I’ll see you ladies later.”

“Well would you mind, dear, letting Brother Johnny David know how this conversation went?”

Mimi holds up a finger. “Excuse me, would someone mind cluing in an old lady?”

Mrs. Lamshire makes a show of mock horror, “Oh Minnie dear. You’re not old. Gracious no.”

I fight the urge to roll my eyes. Mimi isn’t convinced either. “Flattery will get you nowhere with me. What is this comment business that required you to apologize?”

“She’s not required to apologize.” I say.

Peggy bites her bottom lip and then says. “Brother Johnny David did strongly encourage it. And she’s trying to get on his good side.”

“And what did you say, Mrs. Lamshire?” Mimi’s voice is still sweet, but there’s a firm edge to it.

“I was defending you.” Mrs. Lamshire holds her hands out. “She was being rude to Brother Johnny David. Rushing him off while we were speaking. Then pretended to care about you being upset if the food wasn’t hot enough. Never mind you devoted your life to your daughter. Then she moved off with that man.”

“Her husband,” I grumble.

“And now here this one, you devoted your life to her, and just like her mother she married the first guy her gave her a compliment. I know you begged her not to. She left and married him anyway, only to have it blow up and then come crawling back with her tail between her legs. You and Millard are good people. Y’all don’t deserve the ungratefulness of your daughter and now granddaughter.”

I raise a hand. “All good points. But he wasn’t the first guy to give me a compliment. I counted to ten before settling.”

Mimi’s bottom lip trembles. “Mrs. Lamshire. I’m going to walk away before I say something I can’t take back.”

“Let’s go, Mimi. It’s okay. She apologized.”

Pepaw and I guide Mimi toward the double doors at the front of the church. Except we don’t make it more than three steps. Mimi nods, turning suddenly, and charging toward Mrs. Lamshire, “You know what? The good Lord already knows exactly what I’m a’ thinkin’ and I know I will regret walkin’ off and allowing you to speak so cruelly about my grandbaby.”

Mimi advanced on Mrs. Lamshire before anyone could react, but at the same time it all happened in slow motion. She takes the brown leather handle of her purse and twists her body in a more perfect stance than a professional baseball player. She swings the purse and it connects with Mrs. Lamshire’s shoulder. Gasps are heard all around. Pepaw snickers as he tries to guide Mimi away.

“I’m a’ goin’ now.” Mimi straightens her shoulders back.

“It’s not our place to caste judgment.” Pepaw affectionally pats Mimi’s shoulders before giving them a gentle squeeze.

“No, it’s not. That’s true. But God’s so busy. Thought I’d give a hand.”

“You’re always eager to offer a helping hand,” I say fighting back a smile.

Pepaw, Peggy, and Mrs. Lamshire all turn to give me a stern look. I shrug because it’s the truth.

We get Mimi home and go sit on the back porch that overlooks the river. My worst fear of Mimi defending me came to be. Mimi still swears she doesn’t regret it for a single minute, and that if anyone should be ashamed it should be Mrs. High and Mighty Lamshire.

“So church pot lucks are going to be more awkward,” I tell Mimi and Pepaw as I hand each of them a glass of iced lemonade.

“No. We’ll move forward. You don’t worry about it, Honey. This isn’t the first time Mrs. Lamshire and I have had a spat. And knowing her, and that mouth of hers, it won’t be the last.”

There’s the woman I used to be. The woman I am. And then there’s the woman who I want to be. For reasons I can’t explain, I feel a sense of purpose here in Magnolia Grove. It seems like everyone has found there’s, but I’m still looking for mine.

The morning air feels nice as I walk aimlessly around Magnolia Grove. My auburn hair is swept up in a high pony tail on top of my head. I’m wearing black shorts and a pale blue shirt that has a ball of yarn and crochet hooks that reads “I’m a HOOKER in my spare time.” Another gift from Mimi. Pepaw didn’t think it was funny.

There’s a foul whiff in the air and I worry the sewer ditch might be backed up. I’m about to turn around when I hear a faint sound. Anxiety courses through me as I wait for the sound again. There it is. A faint whimper. It’s coming from the ditch. I walk to the edge and hold my breath. There’s the source of the sound. A sweet little puppy is trapped. He looks like a beagle or some kind of hound dog. It’s hard to tell because he’s covered in mud. Or at least I hope it’s mud. He keeps trying to climb up but it’s too slick that he can’t get his claws to grip. Fear like I’ve never felt grabs hold of me. If I go for help it might be too late. There’s only one thing to do, I’m going in.

I take my phone out of my back pocket and place it on the ground. “Don’t worry. I’m coming little cutie.”

The smell is nauseating as I crouch down. “Easy does it,” I tell myself. It’s early, so the ground is coated in a cold morning dew. As I try lowering myself down, I realize all too late that it’s a lot deeper than it looks. I lose my footing and take a ride down the worst smelling slide of my life. The only saving grace is that I keep my chin up and no water splashes my face. Immediately I begin to gag and regret my decision.

A tiny whimper followed by a bark, however, makes all the foulness of the situation disappear. The puppy is alarmed by me joining him. I don’t blame him. No doubt I look like a crazy person.

“It’s okay. Hey, it’s okay, baby. I’m here to rescue you.”

As if he considers that a worse face he scurries away from me. Struggling to stay out of the water, climbing the muddy wall, and avoiding me, his little legs work so hard.

“Let me save you!” I call out. “I love you! I just want to help you! I wouldn’t wade in a shit ditch for just anyone!”

A part of me wants to cry with how gross my skin feels. Each step has me wanting to gag. The puppy must take pity on me because he stops moving away from me. He whimpers and gives little barks, but he doesn’t move. The closer I get, I see that he is very small, barely old enough to leave his mom. I scoop him into my arms and whisper my new found love and devotion to him.

“Little stinker,” I coo. “Yeah, you’re a little stinker. Don’t worry. We are kindred spirits. I, too, always find myself getting into deep shit. Trouble just seems to find us, huh? Yeah.”

Now to see if I can climb up this with a puppy in one arm. I dig my fingers into the damp soil and pull myself upward. I’m able to hoist myself up once more before we slip and slide down again. We don’t fall on our butts because I’m able this time to slow the fall by gripping the soil.

By my fourth try, I hear heavy footfalls. Someone is jogging. “Hey! Hey! Help!”

I’m motivated by the thought of help to climb even harder as I call for help. A pair of gorgeous blue eyes peep over at us. I look up to the sky and silently say, not funny.

“Honey?” J.D. stares at me in the ditch, and then at the puppy in my arm, then at the ditch, and then back to my eyes. “Do I even want to ask?”

“It’s a shitty situation. But I’ll be forever grateful if you’ll take Little Stinker so I can climb the rest of the way out.”

“Trouble,” he says as he shakes his head.

“No, I named him Little Stinker.” I think about it for a minute.” But you’re right, maybe he should be named Trouble.”

“Those are all terrible names.”

“Well we can discuss his name after we get him—and me—out of here.”

J.D. lies flat on his stomach and then leans over as far as he can to grab the puppy from me. I begin my climb and am shocked when two very large and capable hands wrap around my wrists and hoist me up. What is this man, a giant?

I hurry over to my new puppy and take him into my arms. “Whew-wee! We’ve got to get home and get a bath.”

“Maybe rinse off with a water hose first. Do a little pre-rinse cycle.”

That’s probably a good idea. I realize I’m standing here disgusting in front of him. “Thank you for coming to our rescue.”

J.D. sinks his teeth into his bottom lip and looks like he’s struggling to hold back his laughter. “Nice shirt.”

I realize I’m wearing my crochet themed shirt, that reads “I’m a HOOKER in my spare time.” I smile brightly. “Thank you.”

“And nice puppy.”

“Yes! I heard him crying and went to his rescue.”

“Then I heard you and went to your rescue.”

“Yeah… Don’t let that go to your head.”

“Too late.” He’s so gorgeous, and I hate how adorable his smile is.

Needing to remove myself from his stupid gaze and how completely swoon worthy he is, I make an exaggerated motion of needing to go. “I’m going to go shower now.”

“I’m going to go wash my hands.”

“Maybe wash them twice.”

“You too. I mean—Yeah. Have fun. Bye. Just bye.” He presses his lips together in a tight line.

“Thank you again.”

“You too.”

I almost laugh when I see his face cringe.