The Unmasking

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The Unmasking Page 19

by Emilie Richards


  “Springtime.” Lamar kissed his fingers in a classic Maurice Chevalier gesture. With a hug for Abby and a quick wave to Bethany, he was gone.

  “I love Lamar, Mommy,” Abby said, watching from the tall windows as he disappeared down the sidewalk. “When I grow up I’m going to marry him.”

  “I love him, too, and I think you’re the only person who’s special enough for him,” Bethany gave the little girl a hug.

  “Bethany?” A deep voice sounded behind her. She turned and saw that Lamar had left the door open.

  “Justin,” she said, feeling another gush of warmth. “Please come in.”

  “Was I interrupting anything?” His tone was stiff, and she straightened.

  “Of course not. We just got up. Come have some coffee and cereal with us.”

  Justin stepped inside, carrying a box he slapped down on the counter. “No, thank you,” he said formally.

  Wrinkling her brow, she put her hands on her hips, trying to figure out what was wrong. So many times she had tried to understand what Justin was feeling, and so many times she had failed. “Listen, would you please tell me the problem? It’s definitely too early to be reading your mind.”

  His expression changed to one of mocking surprise. “Maybe I interrupted something I shouldn’t have?”

  It was an answer, albeit not a very clear one. “Talking to you is like trying to transcribe a foreign language. What did you interrupt?”

  “A touching scene where you and my daughter proclaimed your love for that Cajun Goliath who just left your apartment at this tender hour.”

  “What’s a Goliath, Mommy?” Abby asked with interest.

  “You can see I’ve neglected her religious training, as well as compromised her innocent morals,” she said dryly. Turning to Abby, she answered the little girl’s question following with: “Do you suppose Bum’s girlfriend is still in the courtyard?”

  “I’ll go see. How long do I have to be gone?”

  “Not very long, sweetheart.” Just long enough for me to tell your daddy where to go and where to get off. “And don’t touch the cats, okay?” she added.

  “I’m sorry, Bethany. I had no right to be upset about who you have in your apartment,” Justin said after Abby disappeared down the steps. “I’ve got no claim on you, do I?”

  “That’s right. If I want to make coffee for a friend who’s just stopped by, then I will. And I don’t want you ruining Abby’s relationship with Lamar, either. She’s crazy about him, and there’s nothing in the world wrong with that.”

  Despite his apology his eyes were cold. “Are you crazy about him, too? Do you really love him?”

  For a moment she was tempted to say she was hopelessly in love with Lamar. How could he think she had kissed him that way last night when she loved another man? It was a childish flash of anger, but the only lies she had ever told him had brought nothing but heartache.

  “Lamar’s the brother I never had. His family’s helped fill the place my own was never capable of filling.”

  She watched his expression cloud over, and oddly it revealed, not hid, his concern. Still, she decided it was time he understood. “Justin, I figured out early that the only way to make sure people paid attention to me was to never ask for anything. I don’t mean to make it sound like my childhood was all bad. Lots of people did notice and support me, but it’s taken me this many years to discover I’m worthwhile, not for what I give but just because I’m me. Lamar and the Robicheaux family like me for no good reason. And I love them for that.”

  He moved forward, enfolding her in his arms. He began to massage her neck, aware, she thought, how stiffly she’d been holding it. “I wanted to tell you so many times you didn’t have to work for my love, that you had it without even lifting a finger.”

  The anger drained out of her, but now she was poised on shifting sands. “I’m not sure I can stand any more revelations right now. I still haven’t adjusted to last night’s.” She could feel Justin’s lips in her hair and his thumbs caressing the back of her neck. He murmured something she probably wasn’t supposed to hear, and finally he released her.

  “No more revelations, then.”

  “I love these rare occasions when I can figure you out. When you’re not hiding your feelings.” She pulled back and examined him with a calculating eye. “I’m going to make you a mask for Mardi Gras. Something secretive and mysterious. Elegant. Perfectly suited to Justin Dumontier.”

  “It’s been years since I participated in carnival, and I almost never went in costume, even as a child. I never wanted to.”

  “The Creole Spirit,” she continued as if she hadn’t heard. “I’m going to make you a mask and a costume.”

  He smoothed a strand of hair back from her face, his eyes dancing. “But you can’t make me wear them.”

  “They’ll be so wonderful you won’t be able to resist.”

  “Well, I have something you won’t be able to resist, either, although it doesn’t have anything to do with carnival.” At the doorway, he called to Abby. When she arrived he motioned to the box on the counter. “This is for you and your mother. Go ahead and open it.”

  The little girl struggled with the string tied around the rectangular box, finally slipping it off the edges. Inside, nestled in white tissue paper, were two burgundy running suits trimmed in charcoal gray. There were soft charcoal T-shirts to wear with them, too. Abby pulled hers out and pushed the box to Bethany, who held hers up to her cheek. The material was thick and fleecy, almost as soft as velvet. “They’re beautiful, Justin. There’s just one problem. We don’t run.”

  “That can be remedied. Why don’t you both put them on?”

  “I’ll wear it, but you can’t make me run in it,” she teased.

  “You won’t be able to resist.”

  “I don’t have any running shoes,” she shot back as she closed the bedroom door, Abby at her side.

  “That’s because I have to take you both with me to fit you for the shoes.” Clearly, he wasn’t going to give up.

  They emerged a few minutes later, and Justin nodded his approval. “They’ll do very nicely,” he said as his eyes lingered on Bethany’s T-shirt. “Shall we go for the shoes now?”

  “I can’t. I’ve got to finish masks, go to the grocery store, work downstairs for a couple of hours.” She remembered Lamar’s invitation. “And then we’re all invited to a crawfish boil at Audubon Park with the Robicheaux family.”

  “I’m invited, too?” he asked in surprise.

  “The Cajun Goliath requested I bring you.”

  “What time is this party?”

  “Anytime, but for sure we have to be there at four.”

  Abby wrapped herself around his legs, and Justin ruffled her hair. “I’ll pick you up at two to go shopping for groceries and shoes. Will that give you enough time to do everything else?”

  “Why don’t you eat breakfast with us before you leave?”

  Only Justin didn’t leave. As the morning slipped by they both found excuses to prolong his stay. Bethany introduced him to the art of mask making and the hot-glue gun, and Justin practiced with leftover feathers, creating a collage of mismatched colors and textures on a plaster gauze form she had rejected. In an attempt to hide blobs of glue that had landed in the wrong place, Justin added great clumps of sequins. The result was hideous, but Abby fell in love with the mask and demanded it for her own.

  When it was time for Bethany to open the shop, Justin insisted on coming down to help, and the three of them stood behind the counter, scaring all the less-confident customers away. Seeing the problem, Justin pretended to be a customer himself, complimenting Bethany on everything about the shop each time somebody came through the door.

  A pair of ladies came in to buy masks for their grandchildren, and were so impressed with Justin’s enthusiasm they bought masks for themselves, too. One of them caught sight of his creation behind the counter, and tried to buy it for a friend who lived out of state. Abby refused
to part with it, and Bethany had to bite her lip not to laugh at the disappointment on his face at missing his first sale.

  By far the most enjoyable part of the morning was watching Justin have such a good time. His smiles were spontaneous. His tightly-coiled body was loose today and liquid in its athletic grace. When Valerie came in to relieve them, Bethany was genuinely sad that the morning had ended.

  Motioning her back into the shop after Abby and Justin had already gone out by the back door, Valerie rolled her eyes. “If we were fishin’, girl, I’d say that one was a keeper.” She laughed at Bethany’s grin. “Looks like I’m not the only one who noticed, huh?”

  They stopped by the apartment long enough to snack. Abby and Bethany cleaned up as Justin brought his car to the front. The grocery store trip was uneventful, except that two attractive female acquaintances of Justin’s stopped to exclaim over Abby and look curiously at Bethany. The shoe store was so crowded that Justin ended up fitting them himself, carefully tying Bethany’s to be sure they were the correct size. She remembered Lamar’s joke about his brother Aldus, and her laughter obviously mystified Justin, but for once she was in no hurry to explain.

  Since they had to pass the Dumontier house to get to Audubon Park, he insisted on stopping to change into his running suit and shoes. The gray suit clung to his muscular body, emphasizing his long legs. The black T-shirt stretched tightly across his broad chest. Her reaction wasn’t lost on him, and he teased her for gawking. Mrs. Dumontier, who was sitting with them in the sunroom, just smiled and asked if they thought she needed to turn up the air-conditioner.

  Bethany scolded him when they were on their way again. “What’s your mother going to think after that comment about my professional appraisal of your body?”

  “I guess she’ll think that neither of us is oblivious to the other.” He turned for a second and flashed her one of his rare grins. “What did you want her to think?”

  “You’re impossible.”

  “Well, she knows that better than anyone.”

  Audubon Park was 240 acres of green grass, massive trees and blue water dotted with highly-indulged ducks. Unfortunately Bethany had neglected to find out what section of the sprawling acreage was hosting the Robicheaux crawfish boil, and they drove the entire perimeter before discovering the Cajun encampment on the shores of a lagoon nestled in the center. Parking as close as they could, Justin helped Bethany out of the car, and they both jumped back as Abby sped past them on her way to the lively gathering.

  “I thought you said she didn’t run. That child should be in the Crescent City Classic,” Justin said as he casually locked hands with Bethany.

  A large chunk of the Robicheaux clan from little towns up and down Bayou Lafourche were there to celebrate. In fact, there were relatives she had never met in her own travels south to visit with Lamar’s family.

  There were tiny Robicheaux in playpens under the spreading oak trees. There were slightly larger Robicheaux, who immediately captured Abby and added her to their frantic games. There were teenage Robicheaux, teasing and flirting with one another, distant cousins that they were. And there were adult Robicheaux, drinking, playing the Cajun card game bourre at portable tables and gossiping. Of course, not all of them were really family. In fact, Bethany had a suspicion that some weren’t even from Bayou Lafourche, but just onlookers who had been invited to join in the fun.

  Lamar’s mother, Vertalee Robicheaux, who was never called anything except Maman, even by nonfamily members, came forth to greet them. A tall, dark-haired woman with just a touch of silver in her long coiled hair, Maman was the prototype of the Gallic matriarch. Her face was wreathed in smiles as she said, “Ah, Beth. I knew you would come.” The two women hugged affectionately. “I tell Lamar not to come unless he gets you to say yes.”

  “I would never miss a chance to see you.” Bethany stretched her hand to Justin and pulled him forward to introduce him. Mrs. Robicheaux’s black eyes made a thorough sweep from toes to hair before nodding her approval.

  “I see now why Lamar brings that other woman with him today. You’ll be married soon, heh?”

  Bethany didn’t look at Justin. “ Justin is Abby’s father, and we are. . .” She searched helplessly for a word. “We are friends.”

  “Yes, it is easy to tell he is Abby’s father, him. But friends?” She laughed good-naturedly. “Friends do not make babies together. When the time comes to marry, you come to my church. We have a wedding you will never forget.”

  There was no time to gauge Justin’s reaction. They were caught up in a melee of introductions that soon separated them. Picnic tables groaned with mountains of food, a prelude only to the crawfish that were to be served soon. Bethany found herself eating boudin, a sausage containing pork, pork liver and rice, which was a Cajun specialty. There were mountains of raw oysters and pink spicy shrimp. A kettle with only a trace of thick brown-and-green testified that once gumbo had also been available.

  Cajuns were a hearty people well-known for their endurance under the worst of circumstances, and they thrived along the bayous of Louisiana, absorbing other ethnic groups, who became “Cajun,” too. When they had discovered that in the semitropical climate of their new home apples wouldn’t bear fruit for hard cider, they had embraced beer instead. Today the beer flowed freely, washing down the spicy food.

  “Hello, Beth.”

  Bethany, who had been having a spirited conversation with Lamar’s brother Celin, an adolescent with a flattering crush on her, turned to find Danielle. She was dressed in a simple buttercup-yellow dress with sensible shoes, and her blond hair was pulled back in a braid. Nothing could disguise the woman’s delicate loveliness, but today she looked very much as if she belonged in the group of picnickers.

  “Well, hello. Are you having a good time?” At Bethany’s words, Celin, used to gossiping women, rolled his eyes and edged away toward a group of teenagers lounging beside the lagoon.

  “I’m having a wonderful time. Everyone is so nice. Imagine coming from a family like this.” Danielle looked around wistfully.

  “They really are something, but you have lots of family, too, don’t you?”

  Danielle seemed lost in thought. “My family isn’t the same, though. They expect so much. I was always supposed to be something. Do you know what I mean?”

  Bethany was surprised at the other woman’s honesty. “The Robicheaux are easy just to be yourself with.”

  “My father is a lot like Justin’s was.” She assessed Bethany. “Did you know Mr. Dumontier very well?”

  Bethany realized Danielle didn’t realize she had never had contact with Justin’s family until now. “I didn’t know him at all,” she said.

  “I didn’t know him very well myself. But after he and Louise lost their daughter, he went on some kind of campaign to make Justin into the perfect son. He was always after him to achieve this, achieve that. I guess Justin finally rebelled and left home to get away from all that pressure.”

  “I wasn’t aware of any of that,” Bethany said, surprised by the revelation.

  “Both my parents have pushed to make a social success. You know how it is in this city. My success or lack of it reflects on them. Up till now it’s been hard to have any life of my own, but I plan to make up for that.” Bethany watched Danielle search for Lamar in the crowd.

  “Danielle,” she said impulsively, “don’t make Lamar a test case for your independence. He’s too special to be used.”

  The other woman didn’t even flinch. “I can see why you might be worried,” she said, “but if my parents made Lamar king of carnival, I’d still be crazy about him. “

  Nodding toward the pond, Bethany gave her blessing to the strange match. “Then go get him. He’s right over there.”

  Danielle headed toward the lagoon, and Bethany found herself face to face with Justin. “I missed you,” he murmured against her ear. “What were you and Danielle gossiping about so seriously?”

  “Love, parents, carnival ki
ngs. What have you been doing?”

  “Playing bourre with Uncle Cyprien and friends.” He flipped his hand toward a card table surrounded with rowdy old men. “I barely escaped with my life.”

  “Let’s go for a walk,” she said, taking his arm.

  “A run,” he said. “There’s a track that stretches all the way around this pond. I’ll see if Abby wants to come, too.”

  Abby didn’t. With the promise that if Bethany ran she’d be able to eat an extra pound of crawfish, Justin persuaded her to make a lap around the pond with him. They jogged slowly. So little did the exertion disturb him that Justin looked as if he were taking a nap. On the other hand Bethany was panting before they got halfway around.

  “I have to stop,” she groaned. “I’m dying.” They slowed down a little more so they were nearly walking, and Bethany made it to the halfway point. “Go on without me,” she gasped, hanging on to an oak tree because she was afraid he would pull her around the second half of the track.

  “We can walk back.” He dragged her away from the tree to lounge on the grass by the pond. Before she realized what was happening her head was cradled in his lap.

  “I don’t understand the glamour of running,” she said finally, when her heart and breathing had slowed enough for conversation.

  “Well, it prolongs your life, keeps you thin, slows down the aging process.”

  “Is that why you run, Justin?”

  “I started running to forget. Now I run because I love it.”

  What had he needed to forget? His father and the pressures that had driven him north? The girl from Tallahassee he claimed to have loved? Whatever had been his reason, it fit the pattern that was Justin. Running was a solitary experience, under the sole control of the runner, dependent on nothing but determination and a pair of running shoes for success. Only now he was asking her to share that experience with him. Her exhaustion evaporated slowly, and finally she sat up.

  “Have I said thank you for the suit and the shoes?”

 

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