by Anne McClane
Lacey didn’t understand his question. She felt very dense.
“Like him,” Nathan mused. “He was a terrible poker player. I think that’s one of the many reasons he despised me.”
Lacey was as stone-faced as the whitewashed figures at her back. “Because you could beat him at poker?” she asked.
“He never could read a bluff,” Nathan said.
Lacey stepped one foot toward, then away from, Nathan. “What are the odds?” she said.
“Of what?” Nathan stood, still as a statue.
“Nothing,” she said. She returned to the bench.
“No, what are you getting at?”
Lacey looked up at Nathan, but avoided his eyes. “Well,” she said, “from what I can tell, Villere is an addict and not that smart. And I know he was acting alone, at least on that day.” She stopped herself from saying “on that day your father-in-law was killed.”
“I don’t know how I know it,” she continued, “but I just do. No one would send that guy off alone to complete a job.”
Nathan walked toward the bench. The distance between them disappeared.
Lacey took a deep breath. “So what are the odds that he would wind up killing your father-in-law on the same day you confronted him?”
Nathan shook his head. “One to one,” he said.
He bent down before her and took her hand. She let him. “Look, Lacey. Things were coming to a head. I knew someone was trying to have me killed. And I knew my father-in-law was behind it. I had to do something. And that man—Villere—was always the wild card.”
Lacey pulled her hand away and held it against her chest.
Nathan wouldn’t allow it. He grabbed her shoulders, gently. “Lacey, no. I had nothing to do with Villere. I would never, ever, do anything to put you in jeopardy. I’ve told you that before. I meant it then, and I mean it now.
“Look, you’re not following me at all,” he continued. He stood. “All this crap was happening then. So the odds were good that all the pieces would come together, sooner rather than later. And the truth is, he set all this in motion. Whether Villere was acting alone on that day or not, it all began with some deal my father-in-law made.”
Lacey looked at the ground. “So you think he got what he deserved.”
“Christ, Lacey. No. Do you really think that about me?”
She looked up, held his gaze for two seconds, and stood. “I honestly don’t know you that well, Nathan. And you just said if he had survived, he would have tried to finish the job on you. So it wouldn’t be out of line for you to think he’s better off dead.”
“No,” Nathan said. He towered over her. “This is not what I wanted to happen,” he said. “I wanted never to see him again, to be free of him, but I didn’t want him to die. That would make me as bad as him, and I don’t want that.”
“What do you want?” Lacey asked.
Nathan inhaled, relaxing his shoulders. More heat lightning lit up the sky.
“A life that’s my own,” he said. “To be an example for my kids. To raise my kids.”
Lacey nodded. She backed up toward the bench. “I’m still unclear on some things,” she said. “Did your wife throw you out? And you said you barely escaped a murder charge.”
“Yes,” Nathan answered. “And not quite. That was a bit of an exaggeration.”
Lacey scowled. “That’s not something I would exaggerate about.”
“Let’s just say I was under some intense pressure until all the crime scene results bore my story out,” Nathan answered. “And Villere got the light on him.”
“He confessed?”
“I don’t know. I just know the heat was off me.”
Lacey remembered the moment she’d run into the room and seen LaSalle dying. She still wanted to know what had transpired in the moments before. But something told her the less she knew, the better.
After a moment, Lacey asked, “When did you move in with your parents?”
He returned to the bench. “It’s still in process. Lisa and the kids have been staying with her mom. It’s not far from our house.”
“How is Mrs. LaSalle doing?” Lacey felt a sort of bond with widows. Or at least an obligation to inquire.
“Okay,” he answered. “Better than you would think. She, believe it or not, is more understanding than Lisa.”
“I’d believe it,” Lacey said.
“I want split custody, right down the middle, and I think my mother-in-law might just be the voice of reason there,” he said.
Lacey chose her words carefully. “I hope so. For the kids’ sake.” She wanted to take his hand, but didn’t. “I’m sorry, Nathan,” she continued. “Breaking up a family is awful enough on its own, without all,” she paused, “without all this other stuff.”
The sun sunk behind him. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I’ve been doing a lot of soul-searching,” he said. “I never realized the depth of my father-in-law’s contempt for me.” He opened his eyes and looked directly at Lacey. “I never thought he was bad man. I still don’t. And what I can’t figure out, is what did I do? What did I do to drive him to this?”
Lacey wasn’t sure if he was fishing for sympathy. She felt compelled to offer it, even if he was. “Don’t say that, Nathan,” she said. “You can’t think like that.”
He stared at her, wordless. A man in a skiff motored by in the lagoon, the engine at a low idle. His wake left waves lapping across the walkway.
“Look. I don’t know what your relationship with him was like. Or your relationship with his daughter, either. But think of your worst argument, with either one of them. Was it worth losing a life over it?”
“No,” he said. “That’s what I don’t understand. I don’t know what I did to deserve this.”
“Don’t go down that path, Nathan. It’s a slippery slope. People you love will do things that confound you. The best you can do is know your own heart.” The words surprised Lacey as she said them. But she could feel the truth of them. She took Nathan’s hand.
He stared at his hand in hers, and looked up into her eyes.
She inched backward in her seat.
“I’m going to be out of town for a while,” she said. She lifted her voice, trying to inject some levity. “So I won’t be around to get you out of any more jams.” She pulled her hand away and rested it on her hip.
Nathan straightened. “Oh yeah? What’s up?”
“I got work on a movie. Production accounting. Out in California. But it’s not permanent. I’ll be back when it’s over.”
“You’re an accountant?” he asked.
I guess there’s a lot we don’t know about each other, Lacey thought.
“No,” she laughed. “At least not a CPA. But I’ve done a lot of accounting work for Trip, and it’s something I’m good at.”
“You see? I told you you’d find something quickly. You need to have more faith in yourself,” he said. “Know your own heart,” he added with a wink.
She missed a beat. She wanted to turn the attention away from herself. “I’ll be back for the Villere stuff, whenever that is,” she said, stumbling over her words.
The lights in the walkway came to sudden illumination. Each had a patina of sheen covering it in the stifling air. Nathan stared at Lacey, mute. Neither was inclined to move. The heat, or something more internal, paralyzed them both.
Lacey wanted to articulate something about her feelings for him, but the words wouldn’t come. He’d said he loved her, what felt like a lifetime ago. But she could not bring herself to say it in return. A seed of that feeling was inside her, but it wasn’t ready to bloom.
“Strange, magical things are happening,” she said instead. “My part in your story is something I still have trouble fathoming.”
He looked at her. Sun glinted off the towering stainless steel sculpture embedded in the lagoon, swirling light patterns above his head.
“How is it that I encountered you under the 610 overpass that night?” sh
e asked. “Why am I a part of this horrible time in your life?”
Nathan made a lightning-fast movement. He pulled her in from the waist and kissed her—slow, hard, long. Lacey’s breath was stolen in that first instant. She gave in to the kiss, falling into the connection. She knew it was this intimacy she had longed for—this kiss was why she had contacted him, despite all her reasons otherwise.
He finally pulled back and placed a hand on her leg, close to her knee. He smiled, looking more relaxed.
“So, how long will you be gone?” he asked.
“Oh. I’m…I’m not sure.” Lacey struggled to stop her head from spinning. “Anywhere from eight weeks to three months is what they told me,” she finally said.
Nathan nodded. “I might just be starting to get my life back in order by then.”
“I’m nervous,” Lacey said. She was too preoccupied with the next few months to think about what might happen after she returned.
“What are you doing with the hound?” Nathan asked.
“Ambrose? He’s coming with me. Really, he’s the only thing keeping me grounded about this massive step I’m taking.” A flash of inspiration came to Lacey. She thought of her house vacant with only Tonti looking after it, and poor Nathan moving in with his parents.
She banished the thought almost as quickly as it had appeared. It left her too exposed to whatever it was Nathan was still going through. She decided saving his life twice was generosity enough.
“Maybe I need a dog,” Nathan said.
“How would your parents feel about that?”
Nathan laughed. “Yeah. One thing at a time, I guess.”
“Right.”
“So, I probably should be going,” Nathan said. He made no attempt to leave Lacey’s side.
“I…I just wanted to follow up on you,” Lacey said, feeling the need to say something. “And to let you know I was going to be out of town for a while. You have my number, right? In case you need anything, related to your situation?”
“Yes, I have your number,” he said. He laughed under his breath. “I think this undertaking is going to be a big deal for you. You might not want to come back. I think it’s great.”
“I’ll be back,” Lacey said. “How could I leave all this?” She swept her hand in what was meant as an ironic gesture, but the sculpture garden looked especially enchanting in the falling light. The irony was lost.
“We’ll see,” Nathan said. He stared at the blazing sunset. “I’m going to be fine, Lacey. I just have to keep up my stamina and get things set up through this…transition.”
“Transition sounds right,” Lacey said. “I think that’s a good way to look at it. For both of us.”
Nathan exhaled and stood. “Where is your car? I don’t want you walking through here alone in the dark.”
“You don’t think I can handle myself?” Lacey asked.
“No, I know you can handle yourself. But I was raised better than that.”
“I’m right outside the gate,” she said as she stood. She looked down and straightened a wrinkle in her shorts.
Nathan touched the side of her face. She gasped at the surprise. He tucked her hair behind her ear and rested his hand on her cheek.
“God, you are beautiful,” he said. “In every possible way.”
Lacey was mute. She didn’t believe it, but she didn’t mind hearing it. Not from him.
He kissed her again. This time without the element of surprise, but with the force of possession. There was an urgency coursing through him, and she felt it pass through to her. Remember me, remember this, she felt resounding inside her. As if I could forget, she said to herself. She placed her hand on his shoulder and pressed gently.
“I should go,” she said.
He nodded slowly as he broke off. He looked her straight in the eyes, almost through her, and said, “I meant what I said.”
“I know,” she said, and smiled. She grabbed his hand and said lightly, “C’mon, Romeo, it’s time to say goodbye. Walk me to my car.”
His intensity slipped away, and he relaxed. “Which way?”
“It doesn’t matter; either way will get us to the gate.”
He asked her where in California she would be, and said he had been to the central coast once. It was beautiful, he said. Lacey wondered if Nathan had multiple personalities, so quickly had his mood gone from soul-baring to walk in the park.
“So what’s the movie about?” he asked.
“Huh?”
“You said you’re going to be an accountant on a movie, right?”
“Oh,” Lacey said. “I’ve been told it’s a coming-of-age story with elements of magic and light.”
“What does that mean?” he asked.
Lacey laughed. “Exactly. I have no idea. I guess I’ll find out.”
Through the sculpture garden they exchanged theories about the different works they passed—the upside-down man who rang like a bell, Renoir’s Venus. The talk was small, but deep down, she knew she would forever after associate this place with Nathan. A beautiful place full of abstract expressions—some resonant, some head-scratching. It suited their relationship.
At Lacey’s car, there was no kiss, no embrace, no further confessions of the soul. Nathan placed his hand on her back to help her in. She smiled and said goodbye. He stepped back as she fastened her seatbelt and started the engine.
Looking forward, she jumped when she heard a loud tapping at her window. She rolled it down.
Nathan leaned in. The soul-baring intensity was back. “I’ll see you again soon.” He tapped the roof of her car like it was a taxi, turned around, and walked away.
About the Author
Anne McClane is a New Orleans native who spent sixteen years out west before finding her way home to embrace the mysteries of the Mississippi River Delta. She has many years experience in publicity, public relations, and marketing, which has provided a fine primer for writing about the speculative, abnormal, and outrageous.
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