Fireflies and Magnolias (32 page)

As they walked out, Clayton gave in and nudged Rye in the ribs. Soon they were wrestling and horsing around like they used to as young men at Vanderbilt.

And it felt good.

Susannah never tempted fate by allowing others to see her art before she was finished. With Amelia Ann due to arrive in a few minutes, she surveyed the finished collage on her office computer. Any niggling fear she’d had these past weeks that her talent wasn’t big enough to express this horrifying topic finally disappeared. She knew from the way her heart fluttered when she looked at it that it was one of her most powerful pieces.

The effect she’d gone for was stark and simple. The details were what stood out and grabbed the viewer by the throat. The swollen, cut lip from a recent beating, the shame in a pair of downcast eyes…then the beaming smiles of the same women after they’d escaped their living nightmares.

The progression told its own story visually. Added to the media features, no fan at that concert would easily forget this night. Or the faces of domestic violence.

She was so happy to have had a hand in spreading that awareness.

Arranged on the coffee table, in the order she’d ranked them, were the stories of the women Amelia Ann had sent her to review. While reading their stories, she could have sworn she’d heard their voices telling her the tales. And learning about their suffering and joy had helped her glimpse beyond the two-dimensionality of their photos and see into their souls. She knew her piece was stronger for it.

Everything was on schedule. Soon she would be presenting this collage—after Clayton’s input—to Rye and the rest of the group. Oh, how that thought made her nerves jump like heat lightning in the wide expanse under her heart. To make matters worse, Jake would be there too. It had been tough to stop thinking about what it would be like to see him again. Of course, every time she went by her brother’s house, she hoped to run into him, but it hadn’t happened yet. Part of her wondered if he’d view her differently after seeing this piece of her soul.

There was a knock on the door, and she went to answer it.

Amelia Ann raised a red velvet wine bag tied with those killer bows she was so good at arranging. “I love your townhouse,” she said, giving her a hug. “The bold blue door suits you.”

Painting it had been one of her first acts as the new owner. Previously it had been a generic white—so not her style.

“Come on in,” she said.

After shedding her light fall jacket, a rich plum color, Susannah noticed with approval, Amelia Ann scanned her den. “I love your place. It has a homey feel. And I wondered what you’d choose for your personal art. I like the landscapes, but the women…well, they rock the house.”

Susannah couldn’t agree more. Two paintings of women who could have graced old Chanel ads hung in the room—one in a dramatic floor-length green gown holding a martini, the other in a curvy bold red dress standing on a French balcony overlooking the Seine. She loved to imagine herself as a bohemian artist in 1920s Paris, staying out late with other artists, talking about light and color and meaning.

“You said you needed to be somewhere later, but if you brought wine, surely you have time for a glass?”

A flush spread across Amelia Ann’s cheeks. “Yes, but I need to…oh, heck, I’m bursting to tell you. I’m seeing Clayton, and things are…in the stage where you want to spend every spare minute together.”

Susannah felt her brow rise of its own volition. “
Really?
”

Well, she’d suspected Amelia Ann might have a personal interest in Clayton, but she’d thought him too cold and stiff for her vibrant friend. There had to be sides to Clayton she hadn’t seen, and he’d obviously shown them to Amelia Ann. She only wondered how Rye had reacted to the news.

“I can tell what you’re thinking,” Amelia Ann said. “You’re wondering about my brother.”

“Well, yes,” she admitted, deciding one glass of wine might not be enough for this story. “To start.”

“Rye’s coming around, thank heavens. Daddy and Tammy are okay with it. J.P. knows too, I expect, but I haven’t talked to him. Oh, and Clayton’s mama discovered us together at his house and was downright unpleasant. It’s been a whirlwind. And I won’t lie, I’m freaking out a little right now just from talking about it…I’ve been trying so hard to be confident in the face of everything. I need to calm down.”

“What you need is a glass of wine,” Susannah said and headed into the kitchen to find a corkscrew. Heck, she needed a drink too. Her mind was reeling. Clayton wasn’t exactly what she considered settle-down-with material, but it wasn’t her place to make that call. What her friend needed right now was support, not another naysayer.

Amelia Ann came in behind her as she was topping off the second glass. She handed it over without a word, and her friend took a healthy sip.

“Thank you,” she said, appearing calmer now. “I think I’ve staved off any hysterics.”

Hysterics. She almost laughed at the word, which was so Amelia Ann. “How about we sit down, and you can tell me more about it?”

“I will,” Amelia Ann said, her eyes scanning the room now, “but first you simply must show me the collage. I can’t wait to see what you’ve created.”

“You don’t want to hear my top three rankings for the media features first?” she asked, just to be a tease.

“No! We can do that later. I want to see what you’ve done.”

Since Amelia Ann was almost jumping up and down, she said, “Okay, I suppose I’ve put you off long enough. It’s in my office.”

She led the way down the small hallway connected to the den. Darting into her office, she jimmied the mouse so the image would reappear on her computer screen since it had gone into sleep mode.

“Okay,” she said, taking a deep breath. “See what you think.”

Her friend’s sharp intake would have concerned her had she not seen the tears in her eyes.

“Oh, my gosh,” Amelia Ann said in a hoarse voice. “I knew you were good, but you’ve outdone yourself. It’s amazing.”

“I had incredible subjects,” she responded and fussed with the hem of her pink top as Amelia Ann wandered closer to the screen, entranced.

“I adore the color backgrounds,” she said. “I wondered how you’d handle the lack of uniformity in the pictures. My God, the block color makes the women’s faces sure stand out, doesn’t it? It’s the most radical piece I could ever imagine on domestic abuse. This is going to look incredible on the giant concert screen. Oh, heavens, I’m already crying buckets. Thank you, Susannah!”

They gravitated toward each other like two magnets and hugged.

“You did great,” Amelia Ann whispered. “It’s sure going to make a difference.”

“
We’re
doing great. I’ve never done anything that’s felt this important before, and I feel blessed to take part in it.”

“You’re right,” Amelia Ann responded. “That’s how I feel when I…”

They edged back. Susannah knew her friend was weighing whether she were ready to share something else. Shelby and Sadie worried their lips too when they were finally preparing to share a secret. After heaving a deep breath, Amelia Ann told her about her volunteer job at a legal clinic in East Nashville.

Add another thing to her nightly prayers. Susannah sat back in her office chair in shock. “So all of these stories and photos—”

“Are real life to me,” her friend finished. “I think I’ve found what I’m meant to do.”

The passion weaving its way through her strong voice was something Susannah understood. She felt the same way about art. Her mama had supported her abilities, but she hadn’t waved off practical considerations. Everyone knew art wasn’t much of a career. So she’d charted a course that mixed art and business. Her decorating business provided the money and freedom that allowed her to pursue her art work.

“I’m happy for you,” she answered. “And now you have Clayton as well.”

She raised a hand to her heart. “Yes, I love him. Everything is…so beautiful between us. I haven’t said anything about this, but I’ve wanted to be with him for so long. It’s a miracle that he’s finally let me in.”

Clayton Chandler, a miracle? She was seriously going to have to reexamine her impression of him. Perhaps he was changing because of Amelia Ann.

“And does he love you?” she asked.

Her mouth curved into a smile, and Susannah had her answer. “I’m so happy for you. I hope he continues to be all you want and more.”

“You’re the best,” Amelia Ann said. “And as for what you’ve created, you’re going to knock everyone’s socks off when you unveil it. Rye is going to be gobsmacked.”

“Gobsmacked, huh?”

“Clayton too. Are you still sure you’d rather not present this to Clayton yourself? I know he’s going to love it.”

“No, why don’t you continue to be the go-between? You’ve enjoyed it.” The last word was said with a purr and delivered with a wink.

Her friend’s shrug was completely sassy. “I won’t deny it. Send me the file, and I’ll show him tonight? I won’t be able to contain myself.”

Susannah laughed. “Sure thing. Just promise you’ll text me and tell me what he thinks. Immediately. Good or bad.”

“Stop! He’s going to love it. Trust me. Clayton likes the truth served straight up.”

And if he didn’t, her friend was going to steam roll all over him. Of that she had no doubt.

“A toast,” Amelia Ann declared, raising her glass. “To the women who inspired this beautiful piece you created.”

The crystal sang out when their glasses connected, and in that moment, Susannah’s heart felt as full as her wine glass.

Though she’d intended to come clean to her family—and then Clayton—sooner rather than later, Amelia Ann had used the work week as an excuse to delay the inevitable. It only made her feel worse that her schedule was less busy than it had been in weeks. Clayton was arranging the shooting of the media spots now that they’d selected their three choices, and as she’d predicted, Susannah’s collage for the concert had stunned him speechless. Amelia Ann’s work for the concert was essentially complete.

Worry had filled all that new spare time instead, like an hourglass with sand.

Tammy had checked in with her every few days, but she’d mentioned Amelia Ann’s revelation all of once, and only then to reiterate she would be there for her sister when she was ready to tell the rest of the family. Every time she envisioned it, fear threatened to crush her. How were they going to take the news?

When she woke up on Saturday morning, she was a junkyard of nerves. She’d spent every night with Clayton, and he’d picked up on her mood. Whenever he asked her about it, she put him off by saying she was working through something. So far he’d been patient, but she could tell he was concerned. Well, it was time to face the music and talk to Rye and her daddy. She wasn’t working at Community today, and Tammy would be off as well, although she’d be with her family. J.P. would be more than willing to watch the kids, she knew.

It was time to face the music.

She woke Clayton up and made love to him with something akin to desperation. After they both climaxed, they stayed intertwined—him still nestled all snug inside her—and he stroked her face and looked deep into her eyes.

“Please tell me what’s wrong, princess. It’s ripping my guts out, seeing you this upset.”

She caressed his back, fighting the urge to cling to him. “You know I love you, right?”

His eyes sought hers like she was a puzzle he was trying to piece together in his mind. “You know I do. Now tell me what’s wrong.”

She hugged him to her. “I need to talk to my family first. Today. I’ll tell you afterwards.”

He pushed back from her. “You’re scaring me, you know.”

She forced a smile, but she couldn’t sustain it. “Don’t be. Everything’s going to be okay. Just remember I love you.”

“You’re asking a lot of me right now,” he said with a sigh. “You know that, right?”

“I do. Can you…would you mind staying here and waiting for me?”

She hated to ask it, but she needed, no,
wanted
to have him here when she returned from Rye’s. He would hold her, and she would tell him what she’d done. He’d be upset, certainly, but he loved her. It would be all right. His strength would help her deal with the fallout of whatever happened with Rye and Daddy.

“I’ll be here,” he said with a terse nod.

“Then hold me,” she whispered. “Just a little longer before I go.”

He snuggled down next to her and pulled her to him, caressing her sweetly without saying a word.

Two hours later, she met Tammy at Rye’s house and nearly burst into tears when her sister pulled her into a hug on the front porch.

“I still can’t believe you’ve forgiven me,” she whispered against her sister’s neck.

“I do, and they will too.”

When Tammy drew back, Amelia Ann rubbed her arms against a chill that had nothing to do with the fall air.

“Just tell them everything you told me.”

Rye and Daddy were grim when Tory led them into the family room, and she almost laughed hysterically, wondering if they thought she was about to tell them she was pregnant by Clayton. One thing was for sure—they couldn’t be expecting what she was about to say.

Her sister-in-law sat beside Rye on the couch and took his hand. In a show of support, Tammy sat next to her on the adjoining love seat and squeezed her hand hard.

Daddy rose from his chair across from them to kiss her cheek. “Whatever you have to tell us, honey, we love you.”

With that encouragement, he sat back down. Amelia Ann took a deep breath, and like the anticipated pain before getting a shot at the doctor’s office, she knew a powerful hurt before she even opened her mouth.

“I was the leak,” she said in a hushed tone, shame lacing her voice.

Rye flinched. Tory’s mouth parted in shock, and Daddy, well, he clutched his heart, scaring her half to death.

“Tell them why,” Tammy said softly, and Rye glanced sharply at their sister as if he couldn’t believe she’d known something like this without telling him.

Through tears she explained haltingly why she’d called Gunner Nolan from Meade’s beauty parlor on that horrible hot day. At one point, Rye turned his head away as if he couldn’t bear to look at her, and she had to stop talking for a moment because she was crying too hard to get the words out.