by Lexi Blake
By this time tomorrow she would have a lot of eyes on her, and some of them would be paid by Celeste Beaumont to make reports.
“How dare you show up on my doorstep,” she heard her mother say with a vehemence she reserved for the IRS and those who didn’t believe in the power of tarot cards. “You know I have a gun.”
“It’s Louisiana, Delphine,” a familiar voice said. “We all have guns. Well, if you’re going to shoot me, do it. I don’t have all day, and honestly I could use the eternal rest.”
She would know that dry, the-world-is-my-never-ending-annoyance voice anywhere. Celeste was here. She was on her porch, and a sudden terror threatened to take over. Was she alone or had she brought the police? Would she walk out there and Armie would explain he didn’t want to do it, but he had to take Luc into custody? Would a CPS worker be waiting to haul her little boy away?
“Seraphina, I need to talk to you,” Celeste said in a raised voice, as though she knew exactly where Sera was. “I’ll be on the porch when you’re ready. You seem to have a place to sit out here. I’m prepared to wait however long you need.”
She heard heels clicking along the front porch and then a squeaking sound that let her know Celeste had taken a seat on one of the rockers.
Her mom shut the door. “She can wait for all of time. I wish we had sprinklers so I could turn them on and see if that old biddy would melt.”
“She’s alone?” There didn’t seem to be a bunch of county workers waiting outside. She could see through the big window that only Celeste’s Benz was in the drive.
“Yes, she’s alone. She’s got a bunch of files, though,” her mom explained. “I could make a homemade flamethrower with a lighter and hairspray and burn them all up. She’ll have to have her lawyer write it all again. That might be a good way to deal with this. Kill her with legal fees.”
Her momma trying to MacGyver her way out of the situation was a bad idea. “I’ll talk to her. It’s best to find out what she wants now rather than later. Watch Luc. He needs his lunch soon.”
This likely wouldn’t take long. Celeste would barrage her with paperwork—none of which she would sign until a lawyer explained it to her—and then she would be on her way.
And maybe she would call Harry and talk to him. It wouldn’t be wrong to talk to him and make sure he was all right. He’d been through a lot, too. He’d thought he’d found some family, and now they were lost to him.
He was alone. Did he have to be? Celeste would come after her one way or another. Maybe he was right. Maybe they should face her together.
But not now because she’d sent him away. Now she had to face the enemy alone.
She walked out, unwilling to put this off for another second. She pushed through the screen door and onto the porch. Celeste was wearing her normal designer uniform. Sheath dress, fussy jacket, pearls she could clutch.
That wasn’t fair. Everyone needed their armor. Even Celeste.
“What can I do for you?” She wasn’t going to take the low road. She was going to act like the woman she wanted to be. Kind. Patient. Reasonable. Strong. “If you need to serve me with papers, I’ll take them.”
Celeste looked up and for a moment she seemed shocked that Sera was standing there. She looked down at the thick stack of papers in her hand. They were in a manila folder that looked like it had seen better days. “This? No. This isn’t legal paperwork. It’s medical records. Wesley’s records. I kept them. I know. I could have put them on the computer, but it’s hard for me to change.”
Now it was Sera’s turn to be surprised. “Are you worried about Luc?” She found the rocker beside Celeste’s and sat down. “Luc is healthy. I promise I don’t miss appointments, and I’ve talked to our pediatrician about the cancer Wes had. We watch him carefully.”
“I thought it might be helpful in case anything came up later,” Celeste said, her hands clutching those records like they were a lifeboat. “Luc might need them down the line. You should know that high blood pressure runs in my family. I had a grandfather who died of colon cancer. He needs to be careful about that and perhaps screen earlier than normal. I detailed some of it this morning, and I’ll send you an e-mail if I remember anything else.”
Celeste’s voice was perfectly steady, but there were tears streaking down her face.
It was the one thing Sera could never hold out against. She gently put a hand on Celeste’s. “Or you could call or come by. This does not have to be a war between us. I wouldn’t mind Luc having another grandmother. But that’s all you can be. You can’t make Luc a replacement for Wes.”
Celeste nodded, but her eyes were on the yard. “I know that. Sera, I’m sorry. I have spent a lot of time recently pondering my own hypocrisy. I’ve been in your position and I blamed you for not making the same choices I did. In many ways, your choices were braver than mine, and I didn’t appreciate that mirror I had to look into.”
She could rail at this woman. She could demand more than a simple apology, and there were plenty of people who would say she had the right. Having the right and using the right were two different things. In the face of Celeste’s emotion, she couldn’t find righteousness. She could only find compassion. “I wasn’t in your shoes. I don’t know what I would have done if I had been.”
“Somehow I think you would have found a way to deal with it better than I did.”
“I think your kids turned out pretty great. Isn’t that what matters at the end? I know Wes loved you.”
For the first time, Celeste turned her way. “Did he hurt you that night? Is that why you wouldn’t talk to him again? Please understand I’m so sorry I blamed you for Wes leaving. I know why he left now. He wrote a letter to Cal. He said he was so sorry for what he did to you that night. He asked Cal to check in on you, to tell you how sorry he was, but Cal didn’t actually get the letter until . . .”
“Until after Wes died,” she finished because Celeste couldn’t. “And no, he didn’t hurt me. He got very angry with me, but we just made a mistake.”
“I think he wanted to take responsibility for that. He wanted to let you know how sorry he was,” Celeste explained. “I had Cal make a copy of the letter for you. It’s here.”
She opened the folder and pulled out a single sheet of paper, handing it to Sera.
She took it, and a few moments later, she was crying, too.
“I did love him,” she whispered, staring down at his handwriting. “Just not the way he needed.”
It was Celeste’s hand that came out to cover hers this time. “You loved him the only way you could. We can’t make people love us. God knows I tried. I was hoping that when you feel comfortable, I might get to see Luc. Here, of course. I would like to spend time with him.”
Sera nodded and so much of her worry fled. Celeste might be wearing her uniform, but it looked like she’d taken off the armor and laid down her weapons. “Of course. You can see him today if you want. We’re about to have lunch. It’s sandwiches, though. Momma made a ham and we’re having leftovers. You don’t have to eat.”
“I would love to,” Celeste said quickly. “My dad used to fry us up bologna for sandwiches. My sister and I would watch him. It was the only thing he could cook, but I think they tasted better because he would talk to us while he did it. He would tell us funny stories.” She dabbed her eyes with a tissue. “I think one of the hardest things about all this self-revelation has been the realization that I miss my parents so much. They’re all gone. My mother and father and sister. I’m the last one left.”
“That’s got to be so hard.” Sera wasn’t going to point out that she had her kids and now Luc. No. It was a different kind of pain, being the last one left, having no one who remembered what it meant to be a child in that particular world. She relied on her brothers, and Celeste hadn’t had anyone.
“Well, I made some decisions that kept me apart from my sister,” s
he admitted quietly. “I want a different life now. I need you to know I’ve called Quaid and told him to stop everything I asked him to do yesterday. I’m not going to come after you. I promise you that, and I promised my kids. I would like to be a part of Luc’s life, but only in a way that enhances it. Not in a way that causes chaos. I’ve got some thoughts on that, but we can talk later.”
Sera was willing to listen. “Okay.”
Celeste was silent for a moment and Sera let it lengthen, let them find some comfort between them.
“Sera? Did you read the part in Wes’s letter about the young woman? Mila?”
She nodded. “I’m glad he was happy. Do you want to look for her? My brother knows people who could help.”
“I know what happened. Cal looked for her after he got that letter,” Celeste explained. “She was in the vehicle with Wes. They were heading into a town where there had been some trouble, and she was going to translate for them. She died with the rest of them. I’m going to reach out to her family.”
“I’m so sorry to hear that.” Sorrow welled inside her again, fresh and purer than the day Wes had died. There was a sweetness to it now, a knowledge that she didn’t have to hide anything, that one day if they met again, there would be no anger between them.
Celeste’s face was red with emotion, and it made her beautifully human. “Sera, is it wrong for me to hope that maybe she’s with him? That she’s looking after my boy?”
“I hope she is. I hope he’s happy.” Sera let her tears flow for the young man she’d cared about, for the father Luc would only know from stories. And she held Luc’s grandmother’s hand, their fingers intertwined, lending each other strength.
This was how it always should have been. Two women who loved a man, each in her unique way, sharing their grief, making it easier for the other. If Celeste wanted to, they could make an incredible team in loving that man’s son, in helping Luc have the future she was sure Wes would have wanted him to have.
“Everything okay?” her mother asked quietly. She stood at the doorway, Luc in her arms.
She’d definitely been listening. Sera stood, wiping her eyes and smiling at Luc. “It’s all good. Luc, baby, come here. I want you to meet someone. This is your other grandmother.”
Luc’s smile went wide and he held his arms out because that kid had never met a stranger, never held back on offering his boundless affection.
Celeste stopped, looking at him, her gaze soft. “He has Wesley’s eyes. Oh, he’s so beautiful.”
Her mother handed him over and Luc studied his new grandma, his hands coming up to brush away her tears. He leaned forward and kissed her like he was kissing away a boo-boo.
Celeste held him close and looked Sera’s way. “Thank you.”
“I’m already Mom-Mom,” Delphine declared. “You have to be Mimaw. You look like a Mimaw. Or Granny.”
“Grandma will work fine,” Celeste said, shaking her head. “Or Luc can call me anything he wants to. Hi, baby. You’re so precious.”
“He is.” Sera relaxed for the first time in what felt like days.
“Well, come on in,” her mother said. “I’ll make us some sandwiches and I’ve got sweet tea.”
“Thank you, Delphine,” Celeste said with a tentative smile. “You know, I was thinking we could have your book club out at Beaumont House.”
“Now why would I do that?” Her mother’s hands had gone to her hips.
“Because while Ralph wouldn’t get the stick out of his backside long enough to enjoy anything, he did put together an amazing collection of wine,” Celeste pointed out. “There’s over three hundred bottles. They’re expensive, and I was never allowed to drink one unless Ralph was trying to impress some politician or businessman. I think the Papillon Literary Society should tear through it.”
Delphine had perked up considerably. “Yes, I think you would fit in quite nicely.”
Celeste kissed the top of Luc’s head. “Here, I’ll follow you in a moment, but there’s one more thing I need to talk to Sera about.”
Delphine took Luc back. “It better be to talk some sense into her about that nephew of yours.”
She walked into the house, and Celeste turned Sera’s way.
“You have to give Harry another chance,” Celeste said. “He loves you. He didn’t betray you. Won’t you please call him?”
Harry. Sera could now go to Harry with no fear. “I will. In fact, I’ll go talk to him now if you don’t mind. I know where he’s staying.”
Celeste agreed, and within moments Sera was on her way to the motel, her car shaking with every mile.
It died as she made it to the parking lot of the hideously titled No Tell Motel. She tried to turn the engine over but got nothing. Frustration welled as she put it in park and set the brake. At least she’d made it there.
But she didn’t see his truck. It wasn’t sitting outside the room he’d told her he was in.
Had he gone out to grab some food? Or maybe gone to her house? She wouldn’t put it past him to sneak in and do some work even though she wasn’t talking to him. She knocked on the door in case he’d parked somewhere else, but no one answered.
“You looking for the big guy?” The man who owned the motel had a bag of trash in his hand as he walked out of the room next door. “He checked out. Said he was leaving town. Sad because that dog of his might be my best guest.”
Harry was gone? “When did he leave?”
“Not more than ten minutes ago.” The man nodded toward the road. “Looked like he was taking the highway toward New Orleans.”
“Thanks.” She raced back to her car. It was possible she could still catch him if she got him on the phone and asked him to come back.
And that was the minute she realized this time she was the one who’d forgotten her phone. She’d rushed out, eager to see Harry and put things right between them, not bothering to remember that her phone was on the charger and not in her purse.
How had she let that happen? She needed to get to him. If she let him leave, he might not come back, might not let her say all the things she needed to say to him.
She heard the crunch of gravel as a car pulled up beside her. She glanced over and saw a black SUV with white lettering that proclaimed it represented the Papillon Parish Sheriff’s Office. The tinted window lowered and Deputy Roxie King sat in the front seat in her crisply pressed uniform, her eyes behind a pair of mirrored aviators.
“Hey, Sera, you all right?” Roxie asked in her no-nonsense manner. She gestured to the back of her vehicle. “He saw you and made me pull over to check on you. I told him you’re a grown-ass woman who doesn’t need her baby brother making sure she doesn’t hang out at hooker motels, but he can be annoying.”
She looked in the back, and sure enough, Zep was there, his hands in cuffs.
He grinned her way, holding them up. “Don’t worry about this. It’s a thing between us. I think it’s her way of flirting.”
Roxie’s expression didn’t change but Sera could practically feel the woman’s eyes rolling. “He’s got a warrant for unpaid parking tickets.”
“I told you why I can’t pay them,” Zep insisted. “Sera needs a lawyer.”
“No, I don’t. Celeste came by and she’s dropping all legal action,” Sera explained. They still might be the solution to her problem. “I came to find Harry, but he just left. He was on his way out of town. If he leaves, I won’t know where he is, but I can’t go after him because my car broke down. I think I still might be able to catch him. He was on the road toward New Orleans.”
“Come on, Roxie. This is true love on the line,” Zep argued. “You know you can catch him. You can turn the lights on and make this happen. They’ll have to name their first child after you and everything. And I’ll have money to pay those parking tickets.”
The gorgeous deputy’s lips curled up sli
ghtly. “Well, I wasn’t doing anything important anyway.”
“Hey, I’m a dangerous criminal.” Her brother was frowning.
“Only to beer bottles and hot wings.” Roxie opened the door and got out, moving to let Sera in the back. “Let’s go find your guy. Hey, you want me to arrest him? I bet he would look good in cuffs.”
Zep’s eyes flared. “I knew that was why you did it. I make these things look good.”
“No,” Sera said, sliding in beside him. Unlike her brother, it was her first time in the back of a parish vehicle. Roxie apparently liked to keep it clean and cozy. “I want to hug him. I want to tell him I love him.”
Roxie got into the driver’s seat and flipped on her siren and lights.
Sera prayed she found him in time.
* * *
***
Harry stopped his truck and simply stared for a moment.
There was a gator in the middle of the road. A massive gator. He’d been in Papillon for a couple of weeks, and he knew they were in the bayou, but this was his first real look at one on a road, and this bad boy was taking up most of it. He was laid out lengthwise in what looked to be the sunniest part of this particular stretch of road.
Shep barked beside him, his big paws on the dash as though he was ready to go into battle.
If the gator heard all that canine aggression, he didn’t show it. The only movement was a slight shift of his big tail. It seemed to be missing the tip, the powerful thing ending in a stump.
He and the gator had something in common.
He glanced down at his phone. He had a couple of texts that stemmed from yesterday’s bat signal.
Sam would be able to spend a few days next week shoring up the indoor stairs, while his friend Lena was a master painter, and he’d helped out with her mother’s place after it flooded. She’d promised to bring her sister and swore she would work for gumbo. He had called a plaster expert, a roofer, and two sisters who specialized in restoration.
He had a small army ready to knock Guidry Place into shape in record time and they’d all agreed because somehow, someway, in all those jobs he’d done, all the drifting, he’d managed to make a little family for himself.