Warm Nights in Magnolia Bay, Babette Jongh [book club books txt] 📗

“Won’t be wasted.”

Abby felt the wind in her sails die down. “But what if you lose?”

“What if,” Reva replied in a gently mocking tone. “Maybe we should forget about what ifs and think about what is.”

Abby’s mind felt scrambled, and she wished she had called Reva much sooner. “Please tell me what is, Aunt Reva. I think I need reminding.”

Reva took a deep breath, and Abby knew she was connecting into some other consciousness, maybe an animal or maybe an angel or maybe someone’s spirit guide. “Wolf tells me that Quinn loves you dearly—”

“Well, he hasn’t said so yet,” Abby responded with a huffy tone she couldn’t keep out of her voice.

“—And he is brokenhearted over what happened.” Reva didn’t pause or acknowledge Abby’s outburst. “He didn’t mean for his… Hang on—I’m searching for the right word…his unthinking actions…no, his hasty actions…to have any effect other than blowing off steam.”

That was almost exactly what Quinn had said.

“Wolf says that Quinn has come up with a plan to reverse the impact of his bad decisions, and he is already acting on the plan. Your hostility—”

“I’m not hostile!” Abby butted in.

“Your hostility,” Reva repeated patiently, “is reducing Quinn’s power in creating this change he’s working toward. You need to stop sending anger and start sending love. You need to release your frustration at the world’s unfairness and recognize that most people—like maybe sixty-one percent—are doing the best they can, given their circumstances. And I’m telling you that Quinn is part of the sixty-one percent.”

Reva’s words surrounded Abby like a warm blanket. “Should I go over there and apologize?”

“Leave it be tonight. Tomorrow is a new day, and when all is well, Quinn will come to you. Meanwhile, you have some inner work to do. Talk to Wolf; he has advice for you. Write in your journal; your higher self has advice for you, too. And once you’ve done all that, sit with Georgia and meditate on what you want to manifest for your future. She’ll help.”

Abby sighed. “But what about your future? What about the future of Bayside Barn?”

“Those are my concerns, not yours. Ever since this controversy started, I’ve been doing the inner work I’m advising you to do, and I’m certain that whatever happens will be for the greater good. Now. I want you to take the rest of the evening to journal and meditate. Will you do that?”

Abby’s conversations with Reva always ended up with a list of marching orders. “I will. Anything else I need to know?”

“Aside from the fact that I’m coming home this weekend?”

“Oh, shit.” Abby glanced at the calendar on the wall above Reva’s desk. Reva’s course was ending on Friday, and Abby would be picking her up at the airport in New Orleans late that evening. “Yes, of course. I hadn’t forgotten.” Not exactly. She would have looked at that calendar sooner or later.

“When’s the city council meeting?” Reva asked.

“Not this Friday but next,” Abby supplied. “That’s when they’ll make their decision—and if it’s in our favor, we have to hope that the mayor won’t veto. That’s honestly my worst fear, that we’ll have everyone on our side but the mayor.”

“And what is fear?” Reva asked gently.

“False evidence appearing real,” Abby answered dutifully. “I’ll try to remember that.”

“Please do,” Reva said. “And stop worrying. Let’s not put any energy into projecting outcomes other than those we want.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Okay, so. You have your marching orders?”

Now that Reva knew everything, Abby felt more settled and confident than she had in days. If Reva wasn’t freaking out, then maybe Abby shouldn’t be, either. “Yes, ma’am. Thank you so much for not blaming me for everything that’s happened on my watch. I’m really sorry, and I hope you’ll forgive me for letting this situation get so out of hand.”

“Honey, if you needed forgiveness for anything, I’d have already given it to you. But there’s nothing to forgive.”

“But—”

“Do me one more favor before you go to bed tonight, please,” Reva added.

“Anything,” Abby answered.

“Forgive yourself.”

* * *

Quinn tried to see the mayor that day, but the best he could do—after wasting over an hour getting cleaned up and dressed up and driving into town—was to make an appointment for the following day and go home. Sean was at his mom’s and Abby wasn’t speaking to him, but at least he had Wolf, who’d been lying by the pool house’s sliding glass door when Quinn parked his bike on the patio. “Hey, buddy,” Quinn said. “You want to come in this time?”

Wolf looked up at him sideways without lifting his chin off his paws.

“Well, okay, then.” Quinn stepped over the dog to enter the pool house, but left the door open in case Wolf changed his mind. “In case it matters, I’m grilling steak for dinner.”

Wolf declined to come inside, even when Quinn put a big, juicy steak out on the kitchen counter to marinate. Griff snuck in and hopped onto the counter, but Quinn caught the cat a split second before he could steal a taste of homemade steak marinade. (Abby’s cooking prowess had somehow sparked some culinary creativity in Quinn, but he planned to confine his newfound talent to grilling.)

Quinn tossed the cat out and took a cold beer out with him onto the patio. When he fired up the grill and put the steak on, Georgia showed up. She hung out until Abby called her, and it broke Quinn’s already-battered heart to see her and Wolf parting after each tried to convince the other to stay together. But Wolf refused to budge, and Georgia had to leave.

Griff tried to cuddle with Wolf, to offer him some consolation, but Wolf looked away and growled softly. When the steak was perfectly browned, Quinn dished up a delicious but lonely dinner, wishing Abby or Sean—or Abby and Sean—were there to share it with him. Wolf still wouldn’t come inside, and mosquitoes were starting to drift in, so Quinn admitted defeat and closed the door.

After dinner, he went to bed early, since