Shadows of Home: A Woman with Questions. A Man with Secrets. A Bayou without Mercy

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Shadows of Home: A Woman with Questions. A Man with Secrets. A Bayou without Mercy Page 28

by Deborah Epperson


  Silence permeated the room while she reviewed the reasons Royce gave her on why he turned away from medicine. Even without knowing about his brother’s experiences in Vietnam or about the guilt he still felt at not being able to save Corporal Scott’s life, Cliff had uncovered the truth. In the beginning, Royce’s feelings of guilt had clouded his vision, but now it was fear of failure that rendered him unable to pursue the life she knew he still yearned for, the life of a healer, the title of doctor of medicine.

  Elita rubbed the back of Cliff’s hand. “When did you get so smart?”

  “I’ve always been smart, but I’ve had to play that side of me down a bit. After all, I didn’t want to make you and big brother look bad.”

  She pointed her finger at him. “You just went from smart to delusional.”

  He laughed. “I did it because the women I date prefer funny over witty and good times over good conversation. I give them what they want and—”

  “And they give you what you want. Right?”

  “A gentleman never tells.” Cliff put two fingers to his lips and pretended to lock them.

  “Well you’d better not try any of your funny business with Danielle because she’ll kick you down the road so fast you’ll have skid marks on your behind.”

  Cliff leaned forward. “Danielle? That’s Nurse Doucet’s name?”

  “Yes.” Elita said, only half-heartedly annoyed at her slip of the tongue.

  “Does she have a boyfriend? Is she seeing anyone special? She doesn’t wear any rings so she’s not married or engaged.”

  “Many women I work with in the hospital don’t wear their wedding rings because they’re always slipping on and taking off gloves.”

  “So is she married or engaged or not?”

  She didn’t answer, preferring to savor the building desperation in his voice.

  “Come on, Elita. Show some mercy to a sick man.” He faked a cough.

  “You have a broken leg, Cliff, not pneumonia.”

  “But I’m a man in pain, both physically and mentally. And you could relieve some of my pain if you weren’t so damn stubborn.”

  No longer able to control her laughter at his theatrics, she spilled the beans about Nurse Danielle Doucet.

  “Do you know her well?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Have you known her a long time?”

  “All her life.”

  “How?” Cliff grabbed the bedrail. “Dammit, I feel like I’m pulling teeth. Tell me everything you know about her, please.”

  “Okay.” Elita walked to the end of his hospital bed. “My mother had four sisters and three brothers. Danielle is the youngest daughter of my mother’s next-to the oldest sister, Bernadette. Aunt Berni, as we call her, married a man named William Doucet. They moved to this area from Grand Isle in 1965 after Hurricane Betsy devastated the town and destroyed their home. Uncle Will is an electrician and works for—”

  “Stop! Stop!” Cliff waved his hands at her. “I see what you’re doing here. You’re drowning me with information.”

  “You ask me to tell you everything I knew about her.”

  “Ha, ha. Can’t you say she’s your . . . .” His brows furrowed in concentration. His finger moved across empty air as he mentally tried to decipher the information and connect the dots of Elita’s relationship to Nurse Doucet. “She’s your cousin,” he said in triumph. “Nurse Doucet is your first cousin.”

  “That’s right.”

  “Couldn’t you have said that in the beginning?”

  “I probably shouldn’t have told you anything, especially since she won’t give you her name herself.”

  “Then why did you tell me about her?”

  Elita chewed her bottom lip wondering why she’d told him about her cousin. Cliff still exhibited that witty, boyish charm of his, but something about him felt different. He had showed her his serious side. Buried deep inside, Cliff possessed a thoughtful, introspective nature, but in the past, anytime a conversation turned somber, he changed the subject or brushed it off with a joke. He seemed different now, more mature. But a near death experience often did that to a person. She’d never played matchmaker before, but thought they’d make a cute couple. Serious Danielle and impulsive Cliff. Like her and Royce in reverse. Would that be a good thing? Maybe.

  “I’m tired of secrets.” Her simple statement surprised her as much as it did Cliff.

  “What secrets are you talking about, Elita?”

  “All secrets, every secret. Secrets I’m keeping. Secrets being kept from me. I’m tired of them all.”

  Cliff held out his hand. She came around the bed and laced her fingers with his. “Did you know about Matt and Aunt Virginia being lovers?” he asked.

  “No.”

  “Did you know they planned to marry?”

  She shook her head. “Did you?”

  “Nope. Did you know about their new business?”

  “No, I thought Uncle Matt . . . never mind. It doesn’t matter now.”

  “Royce knew about it all. I’m not surprised he didn’t tell me, but I’m shocked he didn’t tell you.”

  “He gave them his word he would keep their secrets. Can’t fault him for that, can we?”

  “No, but it still feels like we were relegated to the kid’s table, doesn’t it?”

  She shrugged. “A little, but like I said, it doesn’t matter now.”

  “Do you think there are any more secrets coming down the pipeline?”

  Only the biggest secret yet, she thought. But she wouldn’t be the one to tell Cliff about them having a cousin in common. Still she didn’t want to lie to him. “If they come, we’ll deal with them. Right now, I know two things for sure.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I’m happy you’re doing well enough to go home soon, and I’m headed back to Chicago the day after tomorrow.”

  “But what about Royce? You can’t go until your straighten things out with him.”

  “After what happened the day of the fire, Royce doesn’t want to see me. He told me to go back to Chicago and he’s right. It’s time I left the Caddo.”

  Cliff straightened as best he could. “Royce was wrong to say that to you and you were wrong to doubt him. It was a wild day and you both acted a little crazy. It’s a wash. Anyway, even when you two fight, you never stop loving each other. Right?”

  “I’ll always love Royce but—”

  “No buts. He’ll always love you too. So kiss, make up, and tell Nurse Doucet to go out with me.”

  Elita laughed softly. “Cliff, you always have an angle.”

  “I love you both and want you to be happy.”

  “I know.” She kissed his forehead. “Take care of yourself.” She turned to leave.

  “Wait, Elita! You can’t give up on Royce now, not when . . . .”

  She swiveled around. “When what?”

  Cliff rubbed his hand across his brow. “It’s sort of a secret, but—”

  “Stop! I told you I’m tired of secrets. So keep whatever it is to yourself.”

  “Royce has a new friend. My burn doctor, Doctor Burkett. He and Royce have become friends. They played golf, and Royce went to dinner at Doctor Burkett’s home and met his family.”

  “That sounds like a good thing to me. Royce certainly needs to get away from his office more and relax.”

  “It’s a great thing!”

  Elita frowned. “So why is that a secret?”

  “Doctor Burkett was checking my burns one day when the news came on the television. They showed pictures of the war in Vietnam. He said he’d been drafted shortly after getting his medical degree and the Army sent him to work in a medical field hospital in Korea. I told him about Royce dropping out of medical school to serve as a medic in Vietnam.” Cliff rubbed the back of his neck. “I mentioned that Royce won’t talk to anyone about what happened in Vietnam or about why he didn’t go back to finish medical school.”

  Elita fisted her hands on her hips. “In o
ther words, you told this stranger everything Royce wanted to keep private.”

  “He’s a doctor, and he’d thought about giving up medicine when he came back from the war because he was sick and tired of being around so much death and dying. I figured maybe he could help Royce. God knows, I can’t get through to him.”

  She walked over to his bedside. “Is this why you asked me if Royce had told me about his experiences in Vietnam?”

  He nodded. “The doc is a real subtle guy. He must be doing something right because Royce comes up every day and they have lunch together.”

  “I’m afraid you’re setting yourself up for disappointment. I know you hope Royce—”

  “My hope is in Doctor Burkett’s ability to help my brother heal. My faith lies in Royce. He’s the finest man I’ve ever known and I want him back.”

  Elita pressed her fingers over her eyes.

  “I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

  “Royce doesn’t know how lucky he is to have you in his corner.”

  “At least talk to Royce before you leave, if only to tell him good bye. If not for his sake, for your own.”

  “I’ll think about it.” Elita removed her dime necklace. “Here, I want you to have this.”

  Cliff examined it. “A dime hanging on a piece of rawhide? I don’t get it.”

  “It’s a protective charm of sorts. Since I’m going back to Chicago, I won’t need it.” She slipped it over his head. “Tell Danielle I gave it to you. Ask her to explain the story behind it.”

  “She’ll know what it means?”

  “Of course. She’s bayou born and raised too.” Elita kissed his forehead. “Take care of yourself.” When she got to the door, she turned to look at him again. “I’ll put in a good word for you with Danielle. After that, it’ll be up to you.”

  He grinned and gave her two thumbs up.

  CHAPTER 28

  Elita placed a clean dishtowel over the pan of her grandmother’s homemade rolls and checked the kitchen again. Table set with Mamaw’s best china. Pots and pans washed and put away in the yellowing pine cabinets. Every scratch and scrape of the freshly mopped hardwood floors served as a reminder of its decades of life and the many Duprees who’d found shelter, sustenance and strength in the cabin’s wooden embrace.

  She opened the old rounded top icebox. Mamaw’s tarte `a la bouille pie chilled on the bottom shelf. The sight of the delicious custard filling in the sweet crust made Elita’s mouth water. Two pitchers of fresh-brewed sweet tea rested on the top rack. According to Mamaw, running out of sweet tea during a special dinner fell just short of being a sin.

  Tonight’s meal would be a unique experience for all. Not because it was her going away party, which is how Virginia labeled it when she telephoned to say she, Uncle Matt, and Susan wanted to come over for dinner before Elita left for Chicago. It’d be a first because after waiting, hoping, and praying for eighteen years, Mamaw would be sitting down to supper with both her granddaughters, even if the youngest didn’t know her true connection to the Dupree family yet.

  Mamaw took offense when Virginia insisted they should bring the meal because she didn’t want her new mother-in-law having to prepare a meal for five on such short notice, especially since they had invited themselves. After much cajoling by Matt, his mother finally conceded to letting them bring the main meal, but Mamaw proclaimed she’d make her famous rolls and a special dessert. That ended the discussion.

  Elita hung her apron on a wall hook next to her grandmother’s. She ran her hand over the worn cotton cloth. Frayed, stained, and faded, it remained Mamaw’s favorite despite having received many fancy new aprons over the years. But fancy and new wasn’t Mamaw’s style, so they resided in a drawer in the pine sideboard, worn only when she served a special meal like tonight.

  “How does this here dress look, Baby Girl?”

  Elita turned to find her grandmother standing just inside the kitchen. Pearl wore a shirtwaist sky blue dress accented with tiny darker blue flowers on it. “It’s lovely. That shade of blue looks good on you.”

  “You don’t think the flowers are a bit much?”

  “Not at all. Is that dress new?”

  “Estelle talked me into buying this thing to liven up my wardrobe.” Pearl ran her wrinkled hand down the sleeve. “The shoulders are a might big. It don’t hang right on me.”

  “It fits fine and is a good break from all the solid colors you wear.”

  “I like solid colors.” She walked over to look at herself in the mirror above the sideboard. “Looks like a field of Texas bluebonnets exploded all over me.”

  Elita clamped her lips together to smother a laugh, one her grandmother wouldn’t appreciate. She’d never seen Mamaw fuss so much over her appearance before. Pearl Dupree wore what suited her and cared not a whit what anyone else thought. Her concern over what dress to wear signaled her excitement and nervousness over Susan’s impending visit.

  “Did Uncle Matt say if they’d told Susan about him being her biological father?”

  Pearl eyed her granddaughter. “No, and we ain’t going to ask him or spill the beans tonight. It’s their place to tell her, not ours.”

  “I’d never say anything to Susan. Besides, I’m sure we’ll know one way or the other by the way they act when they arrive.”

  “Reckon so.” Pearl looked back at the mirror. “This dress won’t do. I’m gonna wear my solid dark green dress, the one with the white collar and cuffs.”

  “That’s a pretty dress too.”

  “What are you wearing, Elita? If you’re thinking of wearing those big legged pants or a short skirt that barely covers your rear, Missy, you best think again.”

  “No bellbottoms or miniskirts, I promise. I’m wearing a peach colored sundress and white flats.”

  “Sundress? Does it have sleeves? I don’t care to look at anyone’s armpits while I’m havin’ my supper.”

  “It has a matching short-sleeve jacket I can wear if you insist.”

  “I do. Now, I’d best make sure my green dress doesn’t need ironing.”

  “I’m going to take the boat out for awhile,” Elita said.

  “You’re gonna do what?” Pearl fisted her hand on her hip. “We got family coming.”

  “They won’t be here for a few hours yet. I want to take one last trip across Caddo Lake.”

  “Don’t lie to me, Baby Girl. You want to go see that Sutton boy. I heard you two had a fallin’ out at the clinic.”

  “I don’t even know if Royce is home. And yes, we did have a falling out after the explosion.”

  “Why do you need to see him now? Call him in the morning, before you go to the airport.”

  “I need to tell him goodbye in person, Mamaw. For my sake as well as his.” Elita searched her grandmother’s face for any sign of understanding. “Royce is close to Susan and his Aunt Virginia. They’re part of our family now. I don’t want my problems with him causing tension between our two families. Do you?”

  Pearl sighed, opened her clenched hand, and looked around the kitchen.

  “Everything is done, Mamaw. The rolls are rising and will be ready to pop into the oven by the time they get here.”

  “You won’t have time to take your bath and get dressed.”

  “I took my bath this morning. I only need ten minutes to get dressed.” Elita shifted from one foot to the other. “I won’t be gone long.”

  “If I had a nickel for every time you made that promise and broke it, I’d be—”

  “As rich as Dorothea Sutton.” She finished her grandmother’s familiar statement. “I know tonight is important. I promise to be back a half hour before they get here.”

  Pearl shook her finger at her. “You’d better keep that promise, Elita.”

  She kissed her grandmother’s cheek. “Don’t worry. Tonight will be great.”

  * * *

  Elita tied up her uncle’s boat at Royce’s dock. It’d been night the last time she’d stepped onto the dock. She wonde
red what became of the two armed men who’d followed her from Duck Island. Royce’s neighbors unknowingly came to her rescue by inviting her to the party celebrating the sale of their house. Odd, she thought, that the new owners hadn’t moved into the house.

  When passing Duck Island today, she’d slowed to get a better look at the cove. No boats moored there. No men with rifles, no problems.

  Elita mentally rehearsed her combination apology-goodbye-let’s stay friends speech. But the closer she got to Royce’s back door, the more desperate she felt. Logic, facts, emotions, regrets—they all balled together like snippets of torn paper stuck together with a damp flour paste and hardened into such a mangled abstract design, it would make Picasso envious.

  Mamaw was right. Elita should’ve telephoned instead of coming. Then she wouldn’t have to look him in the eyes. No, she should’ve written him a long letter pouring out her heart. Then, she wouldn’t have to see him or hear any angst, anger, or regret in his voice. She could’ve waited on tenterhooks to see if he’d phone or write her. But waiting would have been hell, and patience had never been her strong suit.

  “Dammit. Dammit. Dammit.” So lost in her thoughts, Elita didn’t hear the patio door slide open.

  “Is that a new way of saying hello?”

  She looked up, stared into Royce’s blue eyes. Standing there in faded jeans that rode low on his hips, no shoes, no shirt, his hair slightly damp, he looked more like the lover in her dreams than the friend she’d come to say goodbye to. Elita wiped at the beads of sweat lining up along her hairline. “Dammit!”

  “I got that part.” Royce stepped back out of the doorframe. “Come in. You’re letting all my air conditioning out.”

  She stepped inside. Her arm brushed against his chest. “Sorry, didn’t mean to hit you.”

 

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