Mama smiled. “It’s all gone. Nothing more to worry about.”
“That’s not completely true,” a distinctly male voice said. “I’d like to think I might give her something to worry about.”
She saw her mother’s smile broaden. “You have a visitor, honey, so I’m going to get some coffee.”
“Get me some, too,” Bliss said, although Mama seemed to think the request funny.
“How about you and I go get our own coffee at the Java Hut as soon as you get out of here?”
“Bobby,” she said softly.
He grasped her free hand in his. “It’s me,” he said.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I should’ve told you.” His face blurred; then her vision cleared again. “They found it after the accident. I was afraid to tell anyone. Only Mama knew.”
“You don’t have to be afraid anymore, Bliss,” he said. “I’ve spoken to your doctors. You’re going to make a full recovery.”
Bliss let her heavy eyelids close. “Good,” she said as she flirted with the temptation of sleep. Then a thought occurred, and her eyes flew open. “Amy’s cake. I need to bake her cake.”
“Rest, honey,” he said. “It’s all under control.”
“But the cake.”
Bob silenced her with a soft kiss. “The cake,” he said softly, “is no longer needed.”
“What?”
He nodded. “You were right. Chase wasn’t the one.”
Bliss shook her head gently. “I’m sorry, Bobby. I’m really, really sorry.”
Before he could respond, sleep overtook her.
❧
“Hospital food is the absolute worst.” Bliss shifted positions on the sofa and watched Bobby puttering around her tiny upstairs kitchen.
Bobby grinned and toyed with the preposterous apron he’d tied around his middle. “Then you won’t have expectations I can’t compete with.”
“You didn’t have to do this, you know.”
“I’m doing this because I want to, Bliss, so relax and let me pamper you.”
“But I’m perfectly fine. The doctor told me I could resume my normal activities in a few days.” She swung her legs over to let her feet touch the hardwood floor. “At least let me—”
Dizziness overtook her, and Bliss covered it with a smile. “Something smells wonderful. What is it?”
“Crawfish pie. Your recipe.”
Bliss felt her stomach growl and welcomed the return of her appetite. “How’d you get that?”
“I’ll never tell.” He gave her a wicked grin.
Bliss chuckled. “Either Mama or Neecie, most likely.” She frowned. “Say, have you heard from Neecie?”
Bobby pointed to the coffee table. “You got a postcard. I put it with the mail. I got the same one. Looks like things are moving slow, but steady progress is being made.”
“That’s great news.”
She reached for the stack of mail and retrieved the postcard with the photograph of a map of Hawaii on it. Reading the lines her friend wrote gave Bliss hope the Gallier family might one day be whole again.
“Dinner’s almost ready,” Bob said as he made his way toward her. “And I’ve got a surprise for you.”
“Oh?”
He nodded just as someone knocked on the back door. “And that would be your surprise now.”
Bob trotted over to the door and opened it while Bliss climbed to her feet. A striking woman with dark hair gave Bob a hug, then turned to Bliss.
“Bliss, may I present my daughter, Amy.”
“Oh, Amy,” she said with a smile. “I’m so glad to finally meet you.”
The brunette embraced Bliss, then held her at arm’s length. “Daddy’s told me so much about you. I certainly hope he has the good sense to marry you before you realize what a pill he is and take off.”
“I heard that, Amy.”
She glanced over her shoulder at Bobby, and Bliss was struck by how much she resembled her father. “Good,” Amy said.
“I think it’s a bit early to talk about weddings, don’t you think?” Bliss asked.
Amy and her father exchanged glances. “I’d say timing’s everything,” Amy said.
❧
Two weeks later
“Bliss, are you sure you’re up to this?”
“I’m fine, Bobby,” she said. “Besides, it’s just a walk by the bayou.”
“All right, but how about you humor me and take a rest over here?” He pointed to a spot near the banks of the Nouvelle. “Remember this spot?”
Bliss smiled, then kissed her fingertips and pressed them to Bob’s forehead. “It’s the spot where I tripped you.”
“Funny, I remember it as the place where I fell for you.” Bob entwined his fingers with hers. “The last place I fell for you. The first will always be Mrs. Benton’s third grade classroom.”
“Bobby, you’re so silly.”
He gathered her into an embrace. “No, Bliss, I’m not. I’m serious.”
Then he gave her a serious kiss that lasted until the roar of an airplane’s engine interrupted them. “Well,” Bobby said, “that looks like one of mine.”
Sure enough, the plane bore the logo of Tratelli Aviation on the tail. While she watched, the plane went into a dip and a spin, all the while emitting white smoke.
“Is there something wrong with it?” Bliss asked.
Bobby settled her into his embrace. “Hush and watch,” he whispered.
Before her eyes, a question appeared in the sky above Bayou Nouvelle: Bliss, will you marry me?
He turned to her. “Will you, Bliss? Will you marry me?”
She looked up into the bluest eyes in Louisiana and said yes.
❧
On the first anniversary of the worst day of her life, Bliss Denison walked down the aisle of the little church beside the Bayou Nouvelle and became Bobby Tratelli’s wife. The ceremony was small and quiet, with Landon and Neecie Gallier standing up for them as best man and matron of honor.
The reception, however, was quite a different affair. From its location in a hangar at Tratelli Aviation to the catering done by Bobby’s friend the restaurateur James Berlin, the event was a celebration to which all of Latagnier was invited. The Broussard sisters loaned their expertise to everything from the decorations to the streamers tied to the wings of the Piper Cub waiting outside for their getaway.
“Are you sure you don’t want to take the limo?” Bobby asked his bride. “I have distinct plans on how we will be spending the honeymoon, and an emergency room is not part of the agenda.”
Bliss winked. “You’ve got plans? You told me you waited since third grade for this day. Now help me into the plane, and let’s get out of here, Mr. Tratelli.”
Bob’s father came over to offer a bit of last-minute advice to his son, then turned to give Bliss a hug. “Welcome to the family, dear,” the spry elder Tratelli said with a wink. “Don’t let my son fool you. He’s not near as stodgy as he might act.”
“Okay, Dad, enough of that.”
His mother linked arms with Bliss. “Dear, I cannot tell you how pleased I am that our son has brought you into our family. The Denisons and Tratellis go way back, you know.”
“I do,” Bliss said.
Amalie Breaux Tratelli smiled. “Well, then, you’ll appreciate the fact that we not only share common friendships, but there’s also a crib that Bobby’s uncle Ernest made for your grandmother Dottie that happens to be in Bobby’s attic. It was used for Amy. Perhaps someday it will be used again?”
Bliss felt her cheeks begin to burn. “But I’m afraid forty-plus is well past that age, Mrs. Tratelli.”
“Call me Mom.” She grinned. “And there are at least two examples I can think of where women believed as you just said, that they were too old to have a child: Abraham’s wife and me.” She giggled. “For you and my son, I pray a double blessing.”
Bobby wrapped his arm around Bliss and nuzzled her cheek. “What say we go put my mother’s theory
to the test?” he whispered.
“Stop that,” she said.
“You don’t mean it,” he replied with a wicked grin.
“Then let me rephrase,” she said as she weakly fended off a kiss. “Stop it for now.”
“When shall I resume?” he said as he looked at his watch.
“What time do we land?”
Bobby laughed. “I like how you think, Mrs. Tratelli,” he said.
“Same here, Mr. Tratelli.” She paused to blow a kiss to her mother. “Now let’s get going.”
She allowed Bobby to help her into the Cub, then waved as they rolled away from the terminal. A scraping noise caught her attention, and Bliss twisted in her seat to look for the cause.
There, tied to the back of the plane was a pink Barbie bike with white wheels and pink streamers. Unfurling from the back of the bike was an elegantly lettered sign, no doubt created by the Broussard sisters themselves at the behest of no one other than Landon.
It read Just Married.
❧
Nine months and three weeks later, Robert Tratelli III was born. Four minutes after him came little Sarah Rose.
Bliss Denison’s Crawfish Pie
Ingredients:
2 pounds peeled crawfish tails
1 stick margarine
1 can cream of mushroom soup
1 can evaporated milk
1 teaspoon cornstarch (mixed with equal amount of water)
1 tablespoon garlic powder
1/2 teaspoon white pepper (optional)
1 cup chopped onion
1 cup chopped celery
1/4 teaspoon cayenne pepper (optional)
1 unbaked piecrust (top and bottom)
Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Sauté onions and celery in margarine until done. Add soup, milk, and spices. Stir in corn-starch and cook until slightly thickened (about 10 minutes). Mix in crawfish and pour into unbaked piecrust, then add piecrust top, being sure to crimp edges together. Bake until crust is browned, approximately 45–50 minutes. Serves 8.
About the Author
KATHLEEN Y’BARBO is a tenth-generation Texan and mother of three grown sons and a teenage daughter. She is a graduate of Texas A&M University and an award-winning novelist of Christian and young-adult fiction. Kathleen is a former treasurer for American Christian Fiction Writers and is a member of Inspirational Writers Alive, Words for the Journey, and The Authors Guild. Find out more about Kathleen at www.kathleenybarbo.com.
Dedication
To Linda Kozar and Danelle Woody, precious sisters in Christ.
A note from the Author:
I love to hear from my readers! You may correspond with me by writing:
Kathleen Y’Barbo
Author Relations
PO Box 721
Uhrichsville, OH 44683
Wedded Bliss Page 16