“Lâches Pas la Patate? Of course! That song’s ancient,” he said, feigning disbelief that she didn’t recognize the Cajun classic. “It means don’t drop the potato.”
“What?” she choked, laughter threatening again. “What the hell?”
“Well, that’s the literal translation, but that saying means hang in there or don’t give up,” he explained.
“Wait,” she said, shaking her head. “I’m sure I heard Lafayette and Ville Platte in there somewhere.”
“Yeah, the singer’s talking about how he never gives up. He takes care of business, and he doesn’t drop the potato. He goes dancing with all the beautiful girls, but he doesn’t drop the potato,” Jacques translated. “And even when he forgets himself and things get hot, he doesn’t drop the potato.”
“Lâches pas la patate,” she echoed with a nod. “I’m definitely going to have to remember that one. You have to admit, it’s not such a bad way to be woken up.”
Jacques could only roll his eyes again, making Rainey giggle.
“It sounds like your grandfather has taught you a lot,” she added, her voice going soft again.
“He’s taught me everything,” Jacques said, the vehemence in his voice taking him by surprise. “Everything that matters.”
He glanced over to find Rainey nodding, her smile illuminating her whole face. She looked so happy, and somehow, he understood she was happy for him. That he had someone like Pal. With her smiling at him that way, Jacques wanted more than anything to reach over and take her hand. He gripped the steering wheel instead.
Talking to her. Making her laugh. Having her smile at him. It had to be enough.
They drove in silence, Jacques, for one, lost in his own thoughts.
“Can I ask you a question?” Rainey’s voice pulled him back a few minutes later.
“Yes… of course.”
But she didn’t ask. She was quiet for so long, Jacques glanced over at her to find her watching him intently.
“What?”
“I want to ask you something, but I don’t want it to upset you.”
“Ask me anything.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Jacques saw her plant her bare feet on the seat and rest her chin on her knees. He gave himself permission to take in the sight of her for a full second before putting his eyes back on the road.
And it was worth it. But even though her pose was unbelievably cute, he could see she was still hesitant.
“Nothing’s off limits,” he said, giving her permission.
He heard her draw a fortifying breath beside him. “Do you ever talk to your dad?”
Ahh. So, that’s what this is about.
“Yeah, sure,” he told her. “Not as much now as when he first went in.”
“Do you… do you mind me asking?” Her voice had gone small, and Jacques couldn’t resist touching her then. He patted a hand on her ankle. To reassure her, he told himself.
“No, I don’t mind.”
The skin of her ankle was cool, soft. Incredibly smooth. And quickly a memory since he did not let his touch linger.
“So… why don’t you talk to him as much as you used to?” Her voice was still soft, but he could hear the urgency behind it, her need to know.
Jacques drew in a breath and brought his mind back to that time. “I guess I needed him a lot more then,” he said. “In the beginning, it was really hard. For me. For him. We had to adjust to our new lives. I needed that grounding, so he’d call just about every day.”
Beside him, Rainey nodded rapidly as if she completely understood.
“And then I got a little older and better understood what he’d done, and for a long time, I was just angry,” he said, letting himself meet her eyes for a moment. The color, green glass and lightning, was so vivid, her eyes wide as she listened. “So, some days, I needed to yell at him. Some days I needed to hang up on him. And others, I wouldn’t come to the phone at all.”
“You were angry? Does that mean you’re not anymore?”
Jacques let a grim chuckle escape. “I think I’ll always be angry about what he did to his life. To our lives,” he said, shaking his head. “But that anger has cooled over the years.”
Rainey crossed her arms on top of her knees and resettled her chin.
“Do you ever go to visit him in Angola?”
Jacques nodded. “For a while I didn’t. The high school years were pretty rough as you might imagine,” he admitted, wincing at the memory. “I didn’t want to claim him most days. But Pal and I go see him every few months.”
They’d gone, in fact, the day before Easter, and Jacques wasn’t looking forward to the next time. Not because he had anything against seeing his dad, but because the drive was almost three hours one way, and it took a lot out of Pal. But with no hope for parole, they’d be making the trip for the next six years.
Jacques just hoped Pal would last that long. A lot longer, really. Pal never said it outright, but Jacques sensed he was waiting for the day when he could spend the kind of time with Xand that they got to spend together. He didn’t give it much thought, but after twenty years behind bars, Pal’s home was the only one his father had to return to.
And as far as Jacques was concerned, that was just fine. Xand owed Pal for taking over as a father figure when he couldn’t raise his own son. Jacques wouldn’t shy away from taking care of his grandfather as the years advanced, but he hoped Xand planned to do the same.
“What’s your dad like?” Rainey’s question pulled him away from his thoughts about the future, and he smiled at her in gratitude.
“Well, he’s not the same man he was when he went in,” Jacques offered. “And, yet, he’s still him.”
“What do you mean?”
“He’s had a long time to think about what he did and who he hurt.” Jacques shook his head. “He killed two people. Two sisters in their thirties who’d just gone the movies together. My father had never hurt anyone before that, and even in the pen, I doubt he’s hurt anyone since.”
Jacques realized as he spoke that he’d never shared this with anyone.
“I mean, in prison, you have to be able to take care of yourself… My dad’s big. Bigger than me, and when he went in, he got bigger still, and I think it’s just because he didn’t want to have to hurt anyone again,” he said, picturing his father, all muscle, salt-and-pepper goatee, looking like someone who just broke out of hell, but in reality, he probably wouldn’t squash a spider. “Inside, he started reading all these books on mindfulness and meditation. I think that made him a better person. If there’s such a thing as a Cajun Buddhist, Xand Gilchrist is it.”
This made Rainey laugh as he’d hoped it would.
“Has he ever heard you play?”
A rueful grin claimed his mouth. “Yeah, I send him videos. The last one was from the Festival show.”
“You send him videos?” Rainey sat up, looking surprised.
“Yeah, the prisoners at Angola don’t really have internet access, but they do have Jpay, which is sort of like Facebook for inmates, but you have to pay for it. I can send him emails, videos, music. With permission, we can video chat.”
“Oh, wow. I had no idea…” she murmured. “He must be so proud of you.”
To this, Jacques could say nothing. His father was proud of him. Extremely so. Jacques often joked that because of his dad, he could boast an unusually higher concentration of incarcerated fans than most indie musicians. But he couldn’t help resenting that his dad had never seen him play live. Jacques had never looked out into the crowd to see his father smiling up at him.
It was only one of the thousands of moments Xand Gilchrist’s devastating choices had robbed from him, and these Jacques found almost the hardest to forgive.
“I think I’ve struck a nerve,” Rainey murmured.
He couldn’t deny it. “You said nothing wrong. I just can’t help but wish he’d done things differently.” And once he’d said this, it seemed easy to tell her the rest. “
And for all of the suffering he’s caused and all the years he’s lost, that man is still hung up on my mother.”
Her soft gasp was the only response she made. Jacques probably should have stopped talking then, but he couldn’t seem to.
“With as much misery as she put him through, her leaving for good should have been the best thing to happen to him. It should have set him free… But it didn’t.” He shook his head. “That’s one thing about him that’s never changed, and I can’t understand it.”
Silence spread through the car, and Jacques resisted the temptation to put on music. He might have freaked Rainey out with his revelations about his father and their relationship, but it was real, and more than anything, he wanted whatever happened between the two of them to be real.
Silence was real, so he made himself get along with it. Which was why he nearly jumped when she spoke.
“I used to feel that way about my mom.”
“What?” He glanced at Rainey to find her eyes gazing out the windshield. It was almost five o’clock, the low sun streaming in from their left and illuminating her profile in golden radiance. Her light brown hair gleamed, tempting him to touch it.
“Before John Lee… before the accident,” she said, her voice dropping low. “My mom put up with everything… I. Hated. It.”
The set of her jaw and the way she bit out the words affirmed as much, and again, he wanted to reach for her.
“It wasn’t until we lost John Lee th-that…” Rainey stopped and pulled in a long inhale through her nose, her shoulders straightening and spreading as she did.
Jacques couldn’t help but admire her strength.
“… that she finally gave up hope on him.”
A moment passed. “I wish she’d done it years before. Maybe watching her do it then would have made me stronger.”
He felt his head check back. “You are strong.” He had his eyes on the road when he spoke. They were outside of Hattiesburg, and even at five o’clock, the traffic on that stretch of interstate was next to nothing, but the landscape was dotted with hills, and as much as he wanted to look at her, he needed to keep his eyes trained ahead.
Rainey made a little snort of laughter beside him. “Strong is the last thing I am,” she muttered.
With one hand, he let go of the steering wheel and pointed at her with every sentence. “You’re making a cross-country trip to save your sister. That’s heroic, my friend. That’s strong.”
His words made her smile, though he saw she fought it.
“If I were strong, I’d be able to make this trip on my own,” she said, her tone a touch patronizing. Jacques distinctly felt as though she was thanking him for his gallantry, but suggesting that his words fooled no one.
Irritation smoldered in his gut. “Whether you drive or not has nothing to do with it,” he countered. “I’ve never done anything like this.”
Jacques waited for her to respond, and when she didn’t, he hoped his words had sunk in. But when the silence stretched further, he didn’t find it as tolerable as when he’d been the topic of conversation.
“You know what Pal would say, right?” he asked, wanting to ease the tension and bring them back to the easy space they’d enjoyed all afternoon. He glanced at her and caught her slight frown.
“No. What?”
“You didn’t drop the potato.”
Rainey rolled her eyes and sniffed a laugh, but it worked. The mood in the car felt light and effortless again.
“Have you given any thought to where we should stop tonight?” he asked after a few minutes.
Beside him, Rainey checked her phone. “If you can handle another three or so hours, we could make it to Birmingham.”
Way to go, Floyd.
“I bet we can find a Best Western there that allows pets,” he ventured.
“Oh, cool. Did you ever stay in one with your dog?”
Jacques couldn’t help his grin. “Nah, just something my neighbor said.”
“Well,” she said, tapping the screen of her phone. “He was right.”
“He usually is,” Jacques muttered.
Chapter 20
“All we have left for the night are suites, ma’am,” Ashley the desk clerk told her in a stunning Alabama twang. “But one of them is pet-friendly. I’m afraid we don’t have any standard rooms available for tonight on account of the cheerleadin’ competition.”
Ashley hadn’t needed to tell them about the cheerleading competition. The sign on the hotel’s marquee had specifically welcomed all participants in the Alabama High School Sports Association State Cheer Tournament. And a lobby full of toned, chirpy, and gum-popping teenage girls would have been the next clue.
They’d only stood in line near the check-in counter for all of three minutes, but Rainey was fairly certain no fewer than nineteen girls had already made bedroom eyes over her head at Jacques, so when smiling Ashley mentioned said cheerleaders, Rainey couldn’t bring herself to smile back.
Two of them had even approached Jacques and in almost synchronized harmony asked if Archie was his dog, and those were now pooled at Jacques’s feet, petting her poodle.
“That’s fine. We’ll take two of those,” she said quietly, trying to ignore Archie’s betrayal as he tipped over onto the hotel lobby floor and let his undercarriage show.
“Archie, shameless,” Jacques scolded under his breath, and it was enough solidarity to keep Rainey from grinding her teeth together.
“Awright, ma’am. Each suite is $159 a night plus tax and a $50 pet deposit.”
“Wait, what?” Jacques said, pulling his eyes from Archie and his cheerleading orgy.
Rainey ignored him, fishing out her credit card, so Alabama Ashley smiled up at him. “Hi, sir, I was just saying that each suite is $159 a night plus tax and that there’ll be a $50 pet deposit on the pet-friendly room.”
Jacques turned to Rainey frowning. “What are you doing?”
“I’m paying for our rooms. What does it look like I’m doing?”
His frown deepened. “Rainey, with tax that’s four hundred dollars. I can’t let you do that.” She watched him reach into his back pocket and come up with his wallet. He slid a Bank of America card across the counter to Ashley.
“Put one of those rooms on this,” he told her.
“Whoa. Wait a minute.” Rainey snatched up his card before Ashley could lay her fingers on it. “You’re driving me all this way, and you’re not even charging me for it. I can’t let you pay for your room. You wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for me.”
Jacques’s dark brows furrowed, shadowing his already dark eyes. If Rainey hadn’t known him to be unfailingly gentle, she might have cowed. Indeed, the giggling cheerleaders at his feet fell silent.
“I’m here because I want to be here,” he said, his voice hard as flint. “And I can’t let you spend your money on my room.”
Rainey rolled her eyes. “It’s not my money. It’s Doc Dylan Reeve’s money.”
“Doc Dylan Reeves?! Oh my gosh! Is he here?” Ashley gushed, looking around. “He’s my mama’s favorite!”
Jacques ignored the girl completely, his eyes locked on Rainey. “I don’t care whose money it is. I’m not letting you pay for me.”
“It’s only fair,” she argued. “Besides, you bought dinner.”
He glowered down at her. “Dinner. Was. Burgers. And. Fries,” he said, biting off each word. He made to swipe the card from her hands, but for the first time in her life, Rainey proved herself the more agile, jerking her hand out of his reach and promptly stuffing his card down her shirt.
His eyes rounded as she tucked the plastic into her left bra cup. And then she watched his irises go completely black. It should have terrified her, but instead, it made her feel…
Powerful.
The cold rectangle of plastic against her breast seemed to make her stand taller than her five-foot-four stature, and a pulse of power coursed down her spine. She was so busy absorbing the sensation, she almost didn’t
notice Jacque spinning on his heel.
“Ashley, cancel one of those rooms. We won’t be needing it.” He brought his laser gaze back to hers, his pupils now just pinpricks instead of the nickels they had been before. “I’ll be sleeping in the car.”
Her newfound sense of power drained out of the soles of her feet, and she lunged for his arm. “Wait! That’s ridiculous.”
“And sir, I should point out,” Ashley drawled. “All persons on the premises must be registered Best Western guests with room assignments—”
He again ignored Ashley, holding up the forearm Rainey now gripped with both hands. He looked from it back to her.
“Are you going to let me pay for my own room?”
Rainey swallowed. She couldn’t let him do that. One day, he’d probably be able to afford the best hotel suites anywhere in the world, but not today. And despite his neglect — or because of it — Doc Dylan Reeves had given his two girls bank accounts that their normal living expenses could scarcely dent.
“I can’t drive myself, Jacques,” she whispered. “But this is something I can do.”
He eyed her for one hopeful second before shaking his head. “No, you can’t. Because I won’t allow it.” He reached for her fingers and started peeling them from his arm. “I’ll go find a place to park my car, and I’ll pick you up in—”
“How about a compromise?” She held on tighter, planting her feet in a futile attempt to anchor him. But instead of pulling away, he met her gaze with a skeptical look.
“What kind of compromise?”
The idea was so simple. Why hadn’t she considered it before?
Because it’s madness, she warned herself.
Ignoring her own cautious instincts, Rainey looked back at Ashley. “Your pet-friendly suite. Does it have two beds or a king?”
She couldn’t be sure, but she might have heard Jacques’s breath whoosh between his lips.
Ashley’s fingers clicked on her keyboard. “Let me check, ma’am… It’s got two double beds and a fold-out queen sleeper-sofa. It can sleep up to six,” she added helpfully.
Rainey shrugged as if the solution were obvious. “Well, there you go,” she said, the tremor in her voice clearly audible to anyone in the Best Western lobby. She was also keenly aware that she could only keep eye contact with Jacques for about a millisecond at a time. “Plenty of room. You can stay in the suite with Archie and me. It won’t cost you a penny, and it won’t cost me any more than what I’m already paying.”
Drive Page 20