Sweet Tea & Cigarettes

Chapter 1

The bell above the diner door sounded sick.

Not a cheerful little chime. Not even a proper ring. Just a rusty metallic cough every

time somebody walked through the entrance.

Magnolia stood on a ladder beneath it with a screwdriver clenched between her

teeth while the Alabama heat rolled through the open front door hard enough for her

tank top to stick to her skin.

Sweat slid down the back of her neck.

Somewhere behind her, bacon grease popped loudly on the stove.

”You’re gonna electrocute yourself.” Aunt Darlene called from behind the

counter.

Mags pulled the screwdriver from her mouth “That feels dramatic.”

”You said that right before setting your Nashville apartment kitchen on fire”

”That was one time!” Mags said surprised that her Aunt remembered that

incident.

Darlene snorted “Twice actually”

The old men crowded into the corner booth laughed into their coffee cups.

Mags ignored them rolling her eyes and went back to tightening the loose

screws above the doorway. The diner smelled exactly the same as it had when she was

seventeen - grease, sweat tea, burnt coffee, lemon cleaner, and cigarette smoke

permanently soaked into the walls no matter how many years had passed since

smoking indoors became illegal.

Nothing changed in Bellrose, Alabama. Not the peeling vinyl booths, not the

ancient jukebox that only played half its song, not the regulars who gathered every

morning to gossip about people they'd known their entire lives.

Mags had spent four years trying to outrun this town and somehow it feels like

she never even left.

Outside, tires crunched over gravel across the highway.

Without thinking, Mags glanced through the diner windows toward the auto

shop sitting directly across the road. Her stomach dropped immediately.

Beau Calloway leaned over the hood of an old pickup truck with grease staining

his hands black. Old rock music drifted faintly from the open garage bay doors while

the July heat lit the sweat across the back of his neck.

God.

Four years away, two failed relationships, one disaster of a life later and

somehow still one look at Beau still knocked all the air out of her lungs.

He looked different now. Broader through the shoulders, tattoos curling down

both forearms beneath the sleeves of his faded black T-shirt. His dark curls were

longer than she remembered, damp from sweat and curling against the back of his

neck. But the biggest difference sat in his face. Beau looked tired. Not sleepy. Not lazy.

Exhausted. Like life had been pressing down on him for years and he’d gotten too used

to carrying the weight.

As if sensing her staring, Beau glanced up. Their eyes met through the diner

window. Everything inside Mags tightened. Neither of them moved.

The last time she’d seen Beau had been two Christmases ago at the gas station

on the outskirts of town. Fourteen awkward words beside the beer cooler before he

grabbed a can of Bud Light and disappeared.

Mags looked away first.

Coward

The bell above her head gave one final metallic clank before dropping off the

wall straight to the old wooden floor.

“s**t-”

The ladder wobbled violently beneath her. Mags grabbed for balance too late.

Before she could fall, a large hand caught the side of the ladder and held it steady. Her

heart skipped a beat painfully.

“Are you always this graceful?” Beau asked

His voice had gotten deeper. Rougher.

Mags looked down slowly.

Big mistake Up close, Beau was worse. The smell of motor oil and soap clung to him. Sweat

darkened the collar of his shirt. A faded scar cut through one eyebrow she didn’t

remember him having before and his eyes - still green enough to ruin her entire day.

“I had it handled” She muttered

“You almost busted your ass.”

“Almost doesn’t count.”

A tiny smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth before disappearing just as

quickly. That somehow hurt more than if he’d never smiled at all.

Darlene appeared behind the counter carrying a coffee pot.

“Well would you look at that”

Mags groan quietly.

“Haven’t seen you two in the same room without glaring since high school.”

“We’re not glaring.” Mags said immediately.

“You absolutely are.” Darlene replied

Beau rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.

“Morning, Miss Darlene”

“Don’t ‘Miss Darlene’ me, boy. You haven’t stepped foot in this diner in six

months”

“I’m sorry I’ve been busy.”

“Mhm.”

Darlene pointed toward the broken bell laying on the floor.

“Fix that thing and I’ll feed you”

“That’s bribery.”

“No sir, that’s Southern hospitality.”

Beau took the screwdriver from Mags before she could argue. Their fingers

brushed. Tiny contact. Barely there but still enough to send heat crawling up her arms.

Mags hated herself for noticing.

Beau picked the bell up off the floor and tightened a few screws on the bell then

climbed the ladder easily, steadying himself against the wall while tightening the

screws back in place. When they were younger, Beau fixed everything - broken bike chains, kitchen

sinks, Mag’s wrist after she jumped off the barn trying to prove that she could. He’d

a;ways been good with his hands. That thought arrived entirely uninvited.

Mags cleared her throat hard enough to hurt. The bell gave a clean ding once

Beau adjusted the wiring

Show-off.

“There.” He said, climbing back down.

Mags crossed her arms

“You’re annoying.”

“You still talk too much.”

Before she could answer, Darlene slid a plate piled high with bacon onto the

counter.

“And there’s the s****l tension I’ve been waiting for.”

“Jesus Christ,” Mags muttered.

One of the old men in the corner cackled loudly. Beau looked like he wanted to

walk directly into traffic. Unfortunately for everyone involved, the diner floor

interrupted first. A sharp c***k echoed beneath the room.

Everybody froze.

The sound came again but longer this time. Wood groaned somewhere beneath

booth six. One of the regulars slowly stood,

“That ain’t normal.”

The floor dipped slightly beneath the booth leg. Coffee sloshed across the table.

“Oh hell” Darlene whispered.

The wood then gave out completely. The booth dropped halfway into the floor

with a violent crash. Splinters exploded into the air. Dust filled the diner while dishes

somewhere behind the counter. People shouted and stumbled backward. Mags

instinctively grabbed Beau’s arm. He moved in front of her automatically.

“Everybody back up.” Beau barked.

The entire diner fell silent except for the settling creak of broken wood. A jagged

hole gaped beneath booth six. Dark. Deep. Wrong. Dust floated through the sunlight

streaming from the windows. Nobody moved, Nobody breathed. Finally Beau reached behind the counter for a flashlight. Mags followed him carefully toward the edge of the

hole while Darlene muttered prayers under her breath

“What the hell is down there?” Somebody whispered

Beau clicked on the flashlight. The beam cut through the darkness beneath the

diner. At first, Mags only saw dirt, old pipes, rotting support beams, and mud. Then

something pale caught the light and her stomach twisted instantly.

“No way..” She whispered

A human hand reached upward from the dirt.

Bones

Half buried beneath decades of mud and collapsed wood. Darlene covered her

mouth sharply. One of the old men cursed under his breath. But Beau - he went

completely still beside her. Mgs looked at him. Really looked at him - at the sudden

absence of color in his face, at the way his jaw locked tight enough to twitch. Then she

his gaze downward.

A rusted silver watch still circled the skeleton’s wrist. Even beneath years of

dirt, the engraved initials were visible.

R.C.

The air disappeared from Beau’s lungs beside her. Ray Calloway - his father, the

man who vanished fifteen years ago without a trace.