The Road to Bayou Bridge

by Liz Talley

  “As in romantic? Have you kissed her or made any overtures?”

  Darby frowned. “What’s that got to do with anything?”

  “Oh, man. You slept with her. Dude, that’s way complicating things. That’s a total screwup, man.”

  “Aren’t you from Oklahoma? You sound like you stepped off Venice Beach. And no judgment please.”

  “What do you want me to say? Lie to you?” Hal’s voice was a mixture of amusement and concern. “And don’t forget, Shelby’s my friend, so I’m not unbiased here. She and I worked together on several programs for the base school, and she’s a gem and not deserving of being hurt.”

  “I know. I’m not hurting her. We aren’t together. Not really. We were an expectation, and come to think of it, you sort of made her an expectation.”

  Hal was silent for a moment. “Maybe I did. Sometimes friends think they know best and push for what suits them, but this is not about me or what I think is best for you. It’s about you and what you want. As for Shelby, you need to shoot straight because I happen to know she thinks you are headed in her direction. You pretty much indicated that when you scheduled a job interview at her father’s firm and packed up all your earthly belongings for Seattle.”

  “I know. I’ve already talked to her. She’s not happy, but I was honest.”

  “Good. So about this thing you have with—what’s her name?”

  “Renny.”

  “Yeah, Renny. I’m not saying to not follow your heart, but you have to make sure your feelings aren’t some leftover remnant of a time when things were easier for you. God puts things in front of us that need to be there. Renny could be a barrier or could be a gift. You’ll have to figure that out.”

  “That’s the kicker. When I’m around Renny, I feel like I came home because here is where I’m supposed to be.”

  “That might be the case,” Hal said, with a sigh. “Nothing wrong with spending some time with her and seeing if what you feel for her is real.”

  “You think?”

  “Yeah, but don’t be afraid to use distance to give yourself some clarity.”

  “You think I should leave Bayou Bridge?” Darby sat up, not so comfortable with his rock-solid mentor’s decree. Didn’t sound like Hal to suggest he run away from a problem.

  “Not yet. You have things to sort out obviously, plus I don’t need Picou hunting me down and working me over. But, when the things get too intense and you feel like you just climbed off the Gravitron, pull away and give yourself some space. I understand there are others involved here, but you’re also trying to decide your future, so it’s okay if you need to pull back. It’s also not a do-or-die situation. If you go to Seattle, it doesn’t mean you pick Shelby. If you stay in Bayou Bridge it doesn’t mean you’re destined to be with this girl. You’re trying on absolutes.”

  Darby supposed he had made it too black-and-white. First, he needed to focus on himself without contemplating love, or the lack thereof. He had to decide where he belonged. He had to decide if coming to Bayou Bridge meant coming home.

  “And remember, just because you figure out what you want doesn’t mean happiness will fall into your lap with a smile and kiss, but at least you won’t be trying to pull on a shoe that doesn’t fit just so your feet are covered.”

  Darby flopped back onto the bed. “What is it with everyone and shoes? And what’s a Gravitron?”

  “You never rode one at a carnival? The things that suck you up against the wall?” Darby heard Hal’s smile and could visualize his old friend with his socked feet propped up in the patched recliner he refused to throw out. “Look, I know you, son. For the past eleven years you’ve been told what to do. Heck, I guess you’ve been told all your life what to do. Even I set Shelby and the idea of Seattle in front of you. Now, you’re faced with making a lot of decisions at once—where you live, where you work and if you even want a serious relationship. You’re rudderless.”

  Darby had never thought about it in that light, but his friend was correct. This was the first time he’d ever had the freedom to decide anything for himself. No wonder he struggled with a direction. “You’re a smart man.”

  “Darn right I am. Why do you think the Lord called me into His service? He doesn’t pick dumb-dumbs.”

  “Yeah, He leaves them for the court system.”

  “That would be the devil’s work, my friend.”

  Darby laughed. “I thought giving myself time would be all it took.”

  “Time’s not a bad thing, but you can’t just bob in the current. At some point, you’ve got to take off for shore. Your job is to figure out where that shore is.”

  “I’ll find my course,” Darby said.

  “I’ve no doubt you will, but don’t forget to nourish your spiritual life. Remember, God has a plan for you, Darby Dufrene, whether it’s in Louisiana, Seattle or Timbuktu.”

  Darby said goodbye and hung up, thinking about the chaplain’s words. Darby had never been overly religious, though he’d gone to Catholic grammar school and had been forced to attend Mass by his mother and father. It wasn’t until he met Hal that he’d even thought about God and what role He played in his life. So was Hal right? Did God have a plan, and had Renny been part of it all along?

  Or was his marriage and ensuing strong feelings for the girl he’d once loved part of a roadblock he had to get past in order to move forward?

  He wasn’t certain.

  But what he was certain about was the fact he needed to be proactive. To get off his keister, lick his finger and hold it up to test the wind. Only then could he figure out where to point the prow of his ship.

  And all things pointed toward Renny. She may not be willing to risk her heart, but shouldn’t he be willing to risk his? Perhaps it was time to stop flirting with fate and grab hold with both hands.

  If Renny was his future, he wasn’t going to be certain until he started swimming toward her.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  RENNY WATCHED HER MOTHER as she thumbed through the sales rack at the discount store. Bev was a shopaholic and loved to paw through all kinds of junk at bargain stores specializing in the stuff no other decent shops wanted.

  “Ooh, look at this sparkly shrug. I can wear this over my gown for the Krewe of Janus ball. Do you think it will match the beading on that blue gown I bought last summer?” Bev wiggled the hanger, making the sequins dance.

  Renny had no idea what her mother was talking about, so she nodded. “Sure. It’s kind of neutral.”

  Bev eyed the swatch of beaded net critically. “I don’t know.”

  “Well, we can look over there.” Renny pointed to another crowded rack. “It’s your birthday present, so I don’t mind your choosing something at regular price.”

  “But there’s an extra thirty percent off this rack. Why spend money when you can save it?” her mother said, hanging the glittery gray shrug back on the rack and turning toward the rack with the new arrivals. “But then again, you did stand me up on my birthday lunch.”

  “But then again, you lied about my husband leaving me.”

  “Husband?” Bev snorted. “Not really. And how is that divorce progressing? Has he filed the petition?”

  Renny shook her head. “Not yet, but he will as soon as Sid Platt drops off the papers for him to sign. Would have been done yesterday, but Darby said Sid got held up with something more important. I’ll waive service and it will shave off a couple of weeks on the process, but the petition should be filed within the week.”

  Bev picked up a cashmere coat of puce with a gray faux fur collar and held it in front of her. “Good. Aaron has a nephew who has a friend who’s a pharmacist. I always thought it would be nice to have a man who knew a little something about drugs. What do you think? Want to go to coffee with Bill?”

  “You don’t know how much that statement explains about you. And, no, I don’t want to do coffee with Bill...or anything else with him. And just because I forgive you for ruining my one good relationship doesn’t m
ean I’m up for you screwing another one up for me. I’ll find my own bad dates, thank you very much. And, Mom, I don’t need a man to be happy.”

  “I know. I don’t need a man to be happy, either, but we women can have everything nowadays. I believe there was a perfume commercial that intonated as much back in the eighties. Always been my theme song...’cause I’m a woman.”

  Her mother was cracked, that was the problem. “Okay, Gloria Steinem, calm down. It’s just that all my life you’ve harped on me succeeding at all costs. You said yourself days ago that you sabotaged my relationship with Darby to insure I didn’t throw my future away. I’m in my future—I’m a successful biologist who defied the odds doctors set before me. So why do I need Bill or Bob or whoever the pill guy is?”

  Her mother’s lips pressed into a thin line as she jerked hangers along the metal rack with ear-grating frustration. “Because I want grandchildren. Barbara Hassell has two already and she gets to buy them the cutest clothes, and besides it will take your mind off your soon-to-be ex-husband.”

  “You’re trying to set me up with some guy in order to assure grandchildren you can buy cute outfits for and to keep me from seeing Darby?”

  “Of course not. Ridiculous,” Bev said, finally looking up at her. “I wanted you to be successful, not lonely.”

  “I’m not lonely. I have friends and purpose,” Renny said, trying to figure out why her mother had suddenly grown so concerned with her social life. Was it Darby? “And I’m not losing my head over Darby Dufrene.”

  “So you’re in control of that situation, are you?” Her mother peered at her from over a rack stuffed with coats.

  Renny felt as if her mother had slapped her with that question. Maybe because she was afraid she wouldn’t be able to keep her hands tight on the reins of her heart. “Yes, I am.”

  “Good.”

  “Good.”

  For a few minutes they each browsed the racks, pretending their thoughts were of clothes and not of the complexities of life.

  On some level, Renny wished she had not picked up the phone when Bev called the previous night in tears because her daughter hadn’t shown for her birthday luncheon on Sunday. Even the meek Aaron had sent Renny a strongly worded text about blood being thicker than water, and some proverb from the Bible about forgiveness.

  Point made, Aaron the chiropractor, point made.

  After having listened to her mother, Aaron and her conscience, Renny invited Bev for a Tuesday evening of shopping and martinis at their favorite restaurant. After all, though Renny still ached from the betrayal, she loved her mother and could somewhat see the view from her shoes...even if what Bev had done had been deceitful.

  Forgiving her mother hadn’t been easy, but necessary. Renny loved her mother more than she hated what she’d done.

  Besides, the outcome of her and Darby staying together likely would have been the same. Back then, she and Darby had come from two different worlds, and Renny would not have gone much longer agreeing with Darby on his version of their future together. He’d always been the one to plan—sometimes offering her little say-so in what would happen once they married and graduated from Bayou Bridge High. She’d been so in love with him, she’d never questioned his ideas. So what good did it do to nurse a grudge against the one person who wouldn’t disappear from her life? Her mother hadn’t kept the two of them apart out of spite, only out of her misconstrued idea of protection.

  “So why do you think I can’t resist Darby?” Renny finally asked.

  “Because you are like me.” Bev glanced at her, brown eyes probing the mirror reflection of her own.

  “Really?”

  “More than you know,” her mother said softly, moving to another rack, dancing her fingers across the hangers, looking but not really seeing the garments before her.

  “What’s so bad about Darby?”

  “He’s not bad, but I always felt like he drowned you out. You didn’t complement each other the way a man and woman should. His personality blanketed you, maybe because he was a Dufrene, different from me and you.”

  “You judged him because he came from a wealthy, influential family?”

  Bev shook her head. “No, but I know you sensed it, too. You were never quite sure about him. That’s why you believed he was done with you. He was always a one-foot-out-the-door kind of guy, always looking for a better situation.”

  Renny shook her head. “That’s not true, because he didn’t actually leave me. I just thought he did.”

  “Maybe so, but neither of you fought very hard to get back to one another...I always thought that telling of your relationship. It ended up best-case scenario for you both.”

  Had it been for the best? Renny wasn’t sure. Something was off-kilter about Bev’s conclusions, and at the same time there was truth in her observations. Renny had never been absolutely certain of Darby.

  “Now this is nice,” her mother said, wrapping the gauzy shawl around her shoulders and doing a pirouette, effectively ending the conversation on the note she wished.

  And Renny let her. “Great, let’s buy it and move on to Chelsea’s. I’m starving.”

  Her mother spent another thirty minutes perusing the shoes section, which was a “quick” look according to Bev, before they got out of the store and back into the parking lot.

  Renny’s phone dinged with a text message just as Aaron pulled into the lot in his convertible Jaguar. He was pretty successful at cracking backs and liked to prove it.

  “Hey, bunny,” Aaron said, as he rolled down the window. “We’ve got reservations at Catahoula’s for seven-thirty. Better get a move on.”

  Bev looked at Renny and fluffed her hair. “Well, darling, it sounds nice, but I’m planning on having dinner with my Renny. Just a little girls’ night out thing.”

  Aaron’s face fell. “But I sent Renny a text about tonight. You got it, right?”

  Renny pulled the phone she’d been trying to hide in her purse out, noting a text from an unknown number. She scrolled down. Sure enough Aaron had texted his special plans for her mother, including a supersecret surprise. Uh-oh, did that mean what she thought it meant? “Uh, sure, I got it right here.”

  “Aaron, honey, I appreciate your wanting to take me out two times to celebrate my birthday, but I’m not prepared to go to Catahoula’s tonight. Let’s go some other time.”

  “Well, I have a little something planned and—”

  “Oh, go ahead, Mama. We’ll have drinks another night. I’ve got to get to work early tomorrow anyway.” And she’d read the unknown text—Darby wanted to meet her at their favorite old stomping ground, McCavity’s, a little bar and grill in the middle of downtown Lafayette where she and Darby and their friends used to wolf down chili fries and drink beer using the ID Robbie Tarver had swiped from his older brother.

  After their words at the pond two days ago, she hadn’t expected to hear from him...at least not so soon. She’d given him some things to chew on, and, honestly, she’d been certain she’d scared him off. She wasn’t in the business of making Darby feel better about himself and she wasn’t going to take all the risks if they wanted to move beyond what they currently had. Were they friends, lovers or something destined to end badly?

  She wasn’t sure. What she was adamant about was not putting her heart out there to be kicked around. She could handle a lot of things but having Darby walk away again would leave her bleeding and broken.

  Control.

  That was the key.

  Her mother eyed her with a guilty expression. “Well, okay. I hate to leave you, sugar. Why don’t you call a friend to join you for dinner? Maybe that nice Carrie? She’s a sweet girl.” Her mother tucked a piece of hair behind Renny’s ear and straightened the tie of her short-sleeved sweater. Her mother’s actions made Renny wish she’d gone in for a trim and maybe a manicure. Bev made beauty a priority in life.

  Renny brushed Bev’s hand away. “I’ll be fine. Maybe poke around a few places I haven’t been in a
while. Y’all go on ahead.”

  Her mother tossed the bag with the shawl into her own sporty convertible and climbed into Aaron’s car. The man looked pleased his plans had taken shape. No doubt a piece of expensive jewelry sat in the breast pocket of his jacket.

  Her mother put down the window. “Oh, and, Renny, sometimes the past is better left in the past. Look ahead, my darling.”

  Then Aaron drove away.

  “Well, there’s a revelation,” Renny said to herself.

  “Huh?”

  She turned and saw a woman in sweatpants with a kid in tow staring at her. “Oh, sorry. Just talking to myself.”

  The woman waved her off and tugged the kid toward the store. Renny stood there in the middle of a parking lot in front of a strip mall in a run-down part of town trying to decide if she should meet her soon-to-be ex-husband for drinks and decadent cheese fries.

  Did she have anything better to do?

  And, really, was there anything better than doing Darby Dufrene?

  Not in her experience.

  * * *

  DARBY SET DOWN HIS BEER as she walked into the crowded bar. “You came.”

  “That’s what he said,” she quipped, hooking her purse on the back of the chair and waving a waitress over. “I’ve been shopping with my mother and I need a Bud Light.”

  He wasn’t sure if she was talking to him or Katy, their waitress, but it didn’t seem to matter. Katy took off for the bar.

  “Rough day?” he asked.

  “Not really, though dealing with my mother is always challenging. Always feel like I’ve been put through a wringer and come out a little worse for wear.” Renny pushed back her hair, giving him a glimpse of delicate ear and sweet, satin neck. He wondered if she smelled as good as she looked. Probably doubtful he’d find out with the scent of beer and fried foods smothering the place.

  “Thought you were angry with her about keeping my letters.”

  “I was, but I’m good at forgiving. Remember? I was angry with you, too. But I got over it—three times over it, if I remember correctly.” Her eyes blazed some sort of challenge, and this woman in front of him became something bold and outrageous, something far removed from a quiet biologist. It was as if the years peeled back, layer after layer, giving him the spicy, smart-mouthed bayou beauty he’d worshipped years before.