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She lifts her head and pins me with a look. “Does this mean you're moving to Rosewood permanently?”
“Maybe.” My voice warbles in a weird way. Truthfully, I don't know if I want to stay here permanently or stick to my original plan of only being here for the summer.
She leans forward, her smile bright and eyes wide. It's almost childlike in its unadulterated glee. “I vote yes, move into Magnolia Lane permanently!”
I laugh, not at all surprised she'd say that.
Her palms splay flat on the table as she leans forward even further. “Think about how fun it would be for you to decorate Magnolia Lane. There are so many rooms, and I'm sure you'll want to keep some of Nana Jo's stuff. But, Eve, no one expects you to not make it your own, ya know? This could be perfect for you.”
She's brimming with excited energy, talking faster and louder than before. It's infectious in the best way.
“We’ll see, okay? I'm not saying no. First, I need to get my car fixed, then, I'll look for some work.”
She sits back into the booth, deflating a bit, like someone pulled the air from her. “Shit. I don't think you're going to find an interior decorating firm within a hundred miles. Not one that's deserving of your style, at least.”
“I know.” I already knew I'd have to pivot. Truthfully, I've been thinking of getting a job for the summer anyways. I don't want Cora to feel like she has to entertain me while I'm here. And I kind of like the idea of a routine, something fun even.
“You already know you have a job with me when I open my bakery, but that's not going to be for a while. I can ask my boss, Shelbi, if she can squeeze you in if you want,” she offers.
But her face pulls into a grimace, and even if I wanted to work with her, her expression tells me it's not going to work.
Cora has been dreaming about opening her own bakery for years. We've talked about it several times since we found out Nana Jo left her the money to do it.
I'm beyond excited for her and so proud my ears burn.
“You know I'm there if you need me when you open yours up, Cora. But I was thinking something a little different.” I lift a shoulder and let it fall down. “But I'm not going to even worry about that until I get my car fixed, ya know?”
“Sorry to interrupt, girls, but I couldn't help but overhear you're having some car trouble?”
I look up from my plate of fries to the woman standing at the end of our table.
Half of her long dark blonde hair held back at the nape of her neck with a black claw clip, small winged liner at the corners of her dark blue eyes, and the most beautiful shade of rose painted on her smiling lips.
I wipe the corner of my mouth with my napkin, my cheeks warming. “Oh, I'm sorry. Was I talking too loud?”
“No, you weren't, honey, but I was sitting right behind you. And since I happen to own a garage, I thought I'd introduce myself. I'm Dixie and I own RCGC here in town.” She extends her hand to me, and I notice her nails are painted the same shade as her lipstick. I absently wonder if that's her signature shade.
Nana Jo used to get her nails done every week, and while she loved to get different colors, she had a signature shade too.
Big Apple Red.
I always thought it was ironic because Nana Jo never liked big cities. She went to New York City for the shows and the food, she'd say, but she'd always leave because there were too many people for her.
I shake her hand. “Oh, I love your nails. Do you get them done in town?” I don't remember seeing a nail salon in the downtown area.
She pulls back and flicks her wrist to examine her nails. “It's a newer place over on Taurus, at the Oasis. Tell 'em Dixie sent you, and they'll hook you up.”
“Oh, that's so nice of you. I'm Evangeline,” I tell her, touching my hand to my chest and then gesturing across the table. “And this is my cousin, Cora.”
She looks between Cora and me with narrowed eyes. “You Ginny's girl?”
It takes me a second to respond, my mother's rarely used nickname catching me off guard. “Yeah, one of them. You know my mom?”
Dixie shifts her weight to her right, her hip jutting out like she's settling in for a story. “Your mom and I go way back.”
“No kidding?” Cora asks, her brows reaching toward her hairline. “Were you friends with my mom too?”
Dixie shakes her head, a few pieces of her blonde hair falling to frame her face. “Nah, Hazel was a couple grades ahead of us. But Ginny and I were thick as thieves since grade school. Until life took us down two different paths, as it often does.”
