was perfectly manicured, and in spring azaleas spilled a profusion of pink, white and gaudy magenta blossoms over the landscape. But in July, as it was now, everything was unrelentingly green. Juliette didn’t believe in “tawdry” annuals along the walkways or hanging in pots from the porch ceiling. One brave gardener had edged the walkway with cheerful red geraniums and been fired on the spot for his audacity.
Maggie had timed her visit carefully. Juliette had a standing hair and manicure appointment at 10:30 a.m. Thursdays, so that she would be looking her absolute best when she met her friends for lunch and shopping in the historic district. By arriving at nine forty-five, Maggie knew she would only have to endure a twenty-minute grilling before being dismissed. No one kept Madame Monique waiting, not even Juliette. In fact, the hairdresser was the only person in all of Charleston that Maggie had ever seen intimidate her imperious mother.
“It’s about time you came to see me,” Juliette declared when Maggie walked into her upstairs sitting room, where she was drinking her morning coffee and finishing her raspberry croissant. She was already dressed in a stylish knit suit. A pair of one-carat diamond studs winked at her ears. Her makeup was flawless. Every highlighted blond hair on her head was in place, which seemed to mock the need for the impending salon appointment.
Juliette was fifty-seven, but looked ten years younger, the result of obsessive control of her diet and enough skin-care products to stock a spa gift shop. Her self-absorption might annoy Maggie, but it was simply the way Juliette had been raised. Her duty was to be an asset to her wealthy husband and a doting mother to her children. Unfortunately, there had been only Maggie upon whom to lavish all that attention. Maybe if there had been sons or another daughter to distract Juliette, Maggie wouldn’t have been the focus of so many maternal rules and regulations and would never have felt the need to rebel.
Now Juliette did a disapproving survey of Maggie’s simple red dress and sandals, then sighed before adding, “I thought you’d vanished.”
“Obviously you weren’t too concerned or you’d have hired a search party,” Maggie replied, bending down to give her mother a dutiful peck on the cheek. “How are you? You’re looking well.”
“I’m humiliated, that’s how I am,” Juliette declared. “I can barely hold my head up as a result of that debacle with your wedding.”
“You should be in my shoes,” Maggie retorted, though it was clear the sarcasm went right over her mother’s head. Everything was always about Juliette, how events affected her. By the time Maggie had hit her teens, she’d given up expecting a sympathetic ear.
“You still haven’t said why you haven’t been by,” Juliette complained.
“I’ve been away,” Maggie said, regretting that she’d bothered to rush right over, since it was evident her mother hadn’t been especially worried about her absence.
Juliette looked momentarily startled. “Away? Where? You never said anything about going away.”
“I rented a house on Sullivan’s Island. I’ve been out there for nearly a month now.”
“My heavens, why would you do a thing like that? What if your father and I had needed you in an emergency? Do you ever think of anyone other than yourself, Magnolia?”
“If you’d needed me, I would have known about it,” she said. “I checked my phone messages every day. Since there weren’t any from you, obviously there were no emergencies, so don’t make a big to-do about it now, Mother.”
Juliette regarded her with a familiar expression of dismay. “Sometimes I just don’t know what to make of you.”
Maggie bit back a grin. “Now there’s a news flash,” she muttered under her breath.
Her mother frowned. “What did you say?”
“Nothing important,” Maggie said. “I should run along now. I know you need to get to your appointment and I have to go to the gallery and check on things there. I just wanted you to know I was back.”
Her mother glanced at her watch, obviously torn. “I do need to go, but we really must talk soon, Magnolia.”
“About?”
“This fiasco with Warren.”
“The fiasco with Warren is over. It’s not open for discussion.”
“But I’m sure you could mend fences if you put your mind to it,” Juliette persisted. “He’s a reasonable man. I’m sure he’ll forgive you for whatever you did to upset him.”
“He’ll forgive me?” Maggie said incredulously. “Are you kidding, Mother? I didn’t do anything. He’s the one who called off the wedding. If there’s any groveling to be done, let Warren do it.”
“There it is again,” her mother said accusingly. “That stubborn streak of yours. It’s always been your downfall, Magnolia. If you don’t reconcile with Warren, what will you do?”
“I’ll survive, Mother. In fact, I’ve already gotten involved in an exciting new project that will take up a lot of my time for the rest of the summer. I’ll tell you about it next time I see you. Now, we both really need to get moving.” She leaned down for another quick kiss. “Love you.”
Duty done, Maggie was out the door and down the stairs at a clip an Olympic runner would envy. With her visit to Juliette behind her, life already looked brighter.
Maggie’s improved mood lasted only until she walked into Images and took a good look around at the displays that had been created in her absence. They were chaotic. Of course, she had no one to blame but herself. She was the one who’d gone off and left the decision making to her employees. She could hardly expect a twenty-one-year-old who dressed all in black and had pink streaks in her hair, or an art-school dropout whose mind tended to wander when she wasn’t in front of a canvas, to arrange the gallery with the same expertise and attention to detail that Maggie would. She was probably fortunate that they’d even bothered to uncrate the new shipments and price them.
“You’re back!” Victoria exclaimed when she stirred from reading her book. Judging from the cover, it was something dark and depressing, suitable for a woman in black.
“Indeed, I am,” Maggie said. “I see the new shipments came in.”
“Last week,” Victoria acknowledged. “I didn’t want to touch them, but Ellie said we probably should. The gallery was starting to look kinda empty, like we were going out of business or something.”
“Ellie was exactly right,” Maggie said. “Is there coffee made?”
Victoria stared at her blankly. “Coffee?”
“Yes, coffee. We make it every day in case a customer would like a cup.”
“Oh, I thought it was just for you, and since I didn’t know you were coming back today, I didn’t make any.”
“Never mind. I’ll make it, and as soon as I have a cup you can tell me what business has been like while I’ve been gone.”
“Actually, you’ll need to ask Ellie. I have an appointment at eleven, so she’s coming in early. Since you’re here, I’ll go now so I won’t be late.”
Maggie
