She slid into a padded lounge chair while Noah readied the boat. She’d offer to help, but knowing absolutely nothing about boats, figured she’d help best by staying out of the way. She sipped the drink and watched the shoreline slowly disappear amid engine noise and vibrations.
She closed her eyes and concentrated on the rocking of the boat. She stretched out, getting comfortable. Noah turned off the engine and it was quiet now. The only noise was the quiet sound of the waves slapping the side of the boat and low music from the stereo.
“You okay with your drink?” Noah asked, stepping out onto the deck.
“Yeah.” She’d taken only a few sips so far. Needed to keep her wits around this guy. He was far too dangerous to her nervous system.
“Dinner’s about ready. I have to finish up the salad. You want to eat in there or out here?” he asked, motioning to the small table.
“Out here would be perfect,” she said, getting up to help.
“Relax. I got this.”
She reclined back in the chair. Noah turned the music up louder. This time he’d chosen a cheesy Caribbean music channel. The song about piña coladas and getting caught in the rain made her smile. This may not be a real vacation to others, but it was for her. It was a short vacation from reality. No Eddie. This was heaven. The sea air, the boat, the music. Freedom. Bliss.
***
Noah
Noah paused in the doorway, about to speak. His breath caught as he looked at Emily. Her eyes closed, face relaxed. The worry lines around her eyes were gone, lips curved in a genuine smile.
He didn’t want to disturb her. But he had to put the two plates somewhere. Couldn’t stand there indefinitely. He set the plates down on the table quietly. Emily slowly opened her eyes.
“Looks wonderful,” she said.
He had filled the plates with cheesy seafood enchiladas, huge slices of crusty French bread to sop up the juices, and a multi-colored fresh salad. He had to admit, he was proud of himself.
Emily scooted closer to the table. He noted her glass, half-full but mostly watered down.
“Want another drink?” he asked.
She stared at the glass, thinking for a second. “Sure.”
He grabbed the glass to go freshen it. When he returned, she was eyeing the plate.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“Nothing, why?”
“You haven’t touched anything yet.”
“I was waiting for you.”
“Oh, okay.” He smiled as he took a seat across from her. “Been a while since I cooked like this.”
“Oh, really?”
“Yeah, I like to cook. Not as much as Joey, or probably you. I only know a few recipes. Just started cooking when I retired from the service. I always cook too much. It’s a lot easier to just pop in a pizza or eat at Glinda’s.”
“You did well,” she said after sampling the enchiladas. “I may have to get the recipe.”
“Sorry. Old family recipe,” he said. He’d never admit that he’d gotten the recipe off Joey a few weeks ago. He’d added a few of his own touches, so technically it was a family recipe. It just wasn’t that old.
“Darn,” she said.
She smiled and met his eyes for a moment. She quickly looked back down at the plate.
“We ate out a lot when growing up. You know that Dad worked offshore and was gone a lot. Carly inherited mom’s culinary skills. She couldn’t make boxed macaroni and cheese without burning it. I never had much interest in it until a few years ago.”
“That’s a shame,” Emily said.
“About my lack of interest or my mom’s culinary skills?” he asked.
“Both.” Noah saw the hint of a grin. He noticed she had finished off the drink. “Another one?”
“Yeah, one more.”
He returned with a full glass but made it weak. He could see that she was hesitant about drinking too much.
“I have the estimate ready for the repairs on your house,” Noah said.
“You do?” she asked. “What’s the damage?”
He told her the number.
“That’s not as bad as I thought.”
“Like I said, it’s mostly cosmetic; you should be back in the house in a few weeks at the most.”
She smiled, and his stomach quivered.
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“Thank God,” she said.
Noah began mentally rearranging his work schedule to make sure she was back in the house as soon as possible. He’d call Joey and Ryder to help one Sunday. They could work on the house, then watch the Saints.
She took a few more bites of food then pushed the plate away.
“I’m full. It was wonderful.”
“Coming from you, I take that as a compliment. I guess you don’t want dessert, then?” he asked.
“Oh gosh, no. I don’t know where I’d put it.”
“Good,” he said, laughing. “I didn’t plan that far ahead.”
“You should have said something. I would’ve brought something.”
“You wouldn’t have eaten it anyway,” he said.
“True.”
“Sure you’re finished?” At her nod, he started picking up the plates.
“Let me help,” she offered, standing up.
“I got it. You just sit and enjoy.”
She smiled. He took a moment to straighten the kitchen, rinsing the plates and putting a plate together to for her to take home.
“Is this music okay?” he asked, coming back to the deck.
“It’s fine,” she said. “Makes me feel like I’m on vacation.”
“That was my intention.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re very welcome.” He settled into the chair next to her this time. He looked at the hand that rested so close to his. He wanted to reach out and touch her, but refrained. She was finally relaxed, and he did not want to ruin that, didn’t want to spook her.
“You look comfortable,” he said.
“Actually, I am.”
“That’s good.”
She was silent, and he was at a loss for words. She looked so peaceful sitting there. He didn’t want to disturb her. Did she want him to talk? Or did she like the silence? He felt like an insecure teenager all over again. Finally, he chose to sit there with her, listening to the faint music playing and the sound of the waves.
***
Emily
She dozed off, only to wake later as Noah covered her with a blanket. She smiled sleepily in thanks. He pushed a strand of hair away from her face.
“I should get back,” she said without opening her eyes.
“Why?”
Emily tried to think of an answer. Finding none, she burrowed into the blanket. “Where’s Oscar?”
“Oscar’s fine. He’s curled up with Sadie.”
She smiled, still not opening her eyes.
“Okay,” she said, and drifted back off to sleep.
Hours later, she woke up. It was still dark, but with a hint of color along the horizon. She snuggled under the blanket Noah covered her with. A glance over to the other lounge chair told her that Noah had fallen asleep as well. Obviously, he wasn’t one to snore. Eddie could snore the roof off a building. Emily didn’t know how many times she’d had to poke Eddie to roll over, or get up and sleep on the couch. And when he started drinking heavily, it had gotten worse. Thankfully, he’d started passing out on the couch most nights, leaving her alone in the bedroom.
Emily stood up silently, wrapping the warm blanket around her shoulders. She wandered around the deck that surrounded the houseboat, and around to the other side, hoping to not wake up Noah.
Later, she heard movement in the houseboat and realized Noah must be awake. Bless him, he’s making coffee, she thought, hearing rustling in the kitchen.
Shortly, he appeared. Sadie and Oscar followed close behind. “I have coffee brewing. While it’s going, I’m going to head back. I’m sure the dogs ar
e ready for a break.”
She smiled. “Go ahead, I’m enjoying the view.”
The sunrise was breathtaking. The low-slung clouds were shades of purple and pink. The ocean was still, like a sheet of glass. Soothing.
“If you get too cold, come on in. I don’t have the heater on yet, but at least you’d be out of the wind.”
He was always so thoughtful. Such a contrast from Eddie. She frowned. Why must she always compare the two? They had nothing in common. Noah had served in the war, Eddie had served himself. Noah asked how her day was, Eddie had complained about his days.
The man was too damned hot. He was damn good looking, a hero, and considerate. Why couldn’t he have a wart on his nose? Or an attitude? Why did he have to be so damned tempting?
The sun was finally beginning to rise. The clouds were now tinted varying shades of pink and blue colors that the water below mirrored. It was like looking out into a pastel watercolor by Monet.
Emily felt the boat turn, and the horizon started to change. She could now see land. The inn came into view, and so did the dock. She felt a small pang of disappointment that the boat ride was ending.
Working quickly, Noah secured the boat as they reached the dock. The dogs bounded out the moment he opened the small gate and off they went.
Noah came outside with coffee. The smell was nirvana.
He handed a mug to Emily. “Good morning.”
“Morning,” she said.
“Betcha didn’t plan on staying out this long, did ya?”
She laughed. “No, definitely not.”
“Complaining?”
“Not a bit. It was very relaxing. Thank you, Noah.”
“My pleasure,” he said, causing little ripples in her nervous system. She shivered.
“Still cold?” he asked.
“Maybe just a little,” she lied.
“It’ll get warmer,” he said, grinning at her. Somehow, her reaction had nothing to do with the cold, and everything to do with him.
Chapter Eleven
It was time to cook a gumbo. Joey’s seafood gumbo had been great, but she was craving a chicken and sausage gumbo. She would make it from scratch, roux and all. Cooking was good for the soul, Grams always said. Emily’s soul definitely needed some soothing. But first, she needed a pot to cook in.
Emily rubbed cooking oil along the inside of Grams’ cast iron pot. She had cleaned out the rust, and it was time to finish seasoning it. The oven was preheated, and the pot wiped down with oil. All she had to do was let it sit in the oven for three hours. She would check on it periodically and put on more oil when necessary.
After sliding the pot in the oven, Emily poured a glass of wine. Not one of the best brands, but when living on a tight budget, one could not be choosy. She flinched a little at the taste, added some lemon-lime soda, and then tried again. Much better.
She remembered making her first roux with her Grams. She had been impatient with all the stirring.
***
“That stirring is good for you, cher,” Grams said after Emily complained. “You ain’t got nothing to do but think and stir. You know how many problems I’ve solved by making a roux? Most problems can be solved in the time it takes a roux if you just put your mind to it. And if you can’t solve it, maybe you need to spend some time prayin’ about it.”
Fourteen-year-old Emily stared down at the black cast iron pot. She had already been standing at the stove for what seemed like hours.
“Keep stirrin’, cher,” Grams said from the sink. “It’s not ready yet.”
“How do you know?” Emily asked.
“It hasn’t been long enough, for one thing,” Grams said.
“This is taking too long,” Emily said. “Why don’t we use the stuff from the jar? Everyone else does.”
“No roux in a jar for me, cher,” Grams said, as she always did.
Emily grabbed the old wooden spoon and kept stirring. She was sure her arm was going to fall off before Grams declared the roux the right color. The color of a copper penny, Grams had said.
Emily wished she’d gone fishing with Noah and Pops. She looked longingly out the window at the blue gulf water. She’d rather be out there in the sun than cooped up in this kitchen all day stirring roux. Why did Noah have to make her mad the day before?
Talking to that other girl like that. Didn’t he know she was no good for him? And when Emily had said something, Noah had gotten all mad. And Emily said she just wasn’t going fishing, then.
Emily heard the back door open and close. The guys must be back. She straightened her back and refused to look as they came in the kitchen.
“Hi, Emily,” Noah said as he came in behind Pops.
“Hi, Noah,” Emily responded, still refusing to turn. Which was unusual. Emily and Noah had been inseparable since Emily had moved to Bon Chance.
With her back to Grams and Pops, she missed their exchange of smiles.
Emily stirred the roux.
“Emily, why don’t you go and help Noah carry in the shrimp? I’ll finish up the gumbo,” Grams said.
She shot Grams a furious glance. Grams smiled back innocently, eyes wide.
“Fine,” Emily said. She followed Noah out the back door.
“Emily?” Noah said as he grabbed one end of the ice chest full of shrimp.
“What?” Emily asked.
“I’m sorry about yesterday,” Noah said. “You were right. Ryder told me that Jill has been after him for weeks now. But, she didn’t tell me that. I think she was trying to make him jealous.”
“I told you so,” Emily said.
Noah sat the ice chest down and looked at the ground. “I’m sorry, Emily. I shouldn’t have bitten your head off like that.”
Emily looked at him, his head down, his feet drawing nervous circles in the dirt, and smiled.
“It’s okay, Noah,” she said.
He looked up, eyes meeting hers.
She smiled and held her hand out. “Friends?”
“Always,” he said.
***
Emily sipped the wine. Maybe if she’d taken time to cook a roux, she’d have solved more problems. More time? She snorted. When?
Feeling a little cooped up, she decided to enjoy some porch time. She grabbed a southern cooking magazine and the wine and headed outside. After corralling Oscar inside, she settled into the comfortable Adirondack styled chair. She propped her feet up on the railing.
Eddie would’ve complained, “What do you think you’re doing?” Never would he have actually thought about helping with the cooking or the cleaning. Even when he had lost his job, he still felt like it was beneath him to help with what he considered “women’s work.” He was content to lie on the sofa, drink, belch, and not do a damn thing.
One day, she had spent the whole morning trying to bring some semblance of order to the house. A wasted effort, but had tried anyway. Eddie had woken up from a stupor, stumbled around a bit, and grabbed a beer from the fridge. Moments later, he was passed back out on the sofa. The beer bottle had overturned, spilling dull brown beer over the sparkling floor she had just mopped.
Emily shook her head at her own stupidity. How had she lasted that long?
Too long. But not anymore.
She took a sip of wine and opened the magazine, scanning the pages. She dog-eared a few recipes to look at again later. After dinner, she’d take Oscar for a walk down the beach. Maybe take the bottle of wine too. She’d let Oscar run, and she’d drink wine and sink her feet in the sand.
Emily’s phone beeped. Great, it’s Eddie again. His messages that morning had been angry, drunk, and almost unintelligible. She looked at the phone and was pleasantly surprised to see a text message from Carly.
Carly: What’s up?
Emily: I just started seasoning a pot.
Carly: K. Cool. How about I come over?
Emily: C’mon.
Carly: Be there in ten. Whatcha drinkin’?
Emily: Wine.
C
arly: I’ll bring a bottle! Girls’ night! C ya in 10.
Emily smiled and set the phone down on the chair. That was definitely better than a text from Eddie. Emily set the magazine down and stared off at the gulf. How nice it would be to actually have a friend to talk to. To laugh with. To just hang out with. Soon, Carly was there with a bottle of wine tucked under one arm.
“How’s it going?”
“It’s goin’,” Emily said. “You?”
“Been a long day. I had to go get my stuff from dickhead in Biloxi this morning. I can’t stay there. Going to stay with Joey until I figure out what I want to do.”
“Ahhh. I see. You definitely need a drink, then,” Emily said, and got up to get a glass of wine for Carly.
“You okay?” Emily asked Carly as she sat back down.
“Yeah. I’ll survive. I always do.” Carly frowned, then seemed to shake off the sadness.
“Are you cooking something?” Carly asked. “Wish I could cook. I just don’t have the patience. I even tried stuff from that Homemade in Half an Hour show. Hell, I didn’t even know what she was talking about half the time. The first time I tried a recipe from that show it took me two hours! And the mess I made! Joey won’t let me cook.”
Carly sank down into the chair beside Emily. “Man, I can’t wait for Snapper’s to open. I need the diversion, and this place needs a bar.”
“Where do you go here when you go out?” Emily asked. Bon Chance had never been a hotbed of nightlife.
“Not much of a choice here in town. We go to The Wild Wahoo sometimes. And sometimes to 31, just across the parish line. Occasionally, Joey, Noah, and I will take a night off and go to New Orleans. It’s been a while since we did that though. We are going to a Saints game soon. You should come!” Carly said.
“I might do that,” Emily found herself saying. Carly finished off the drink and Emily rose to get another.
When she got back, Carly was leaning back, flip-flops discarded, and feet on the railing. The glittery purple polish on her toes contrasted with the weathered gray wood.
Tangled Up In You (Fleur de Lis Book 1) Page 7