Along the Cane River: Books 1-5 in the Inspirational Cane River Romance Series

by Mary Jane Hathaway

  “Mrs. Olivier, I’ll go get the food. Just point me in the right direction,” Andy said.

  Paul picked a stand farther down the sidewalk and Andy headed down the packed walkway. Paul didn’t blame him at all for trying to get out of this conversation. He’d get out of it too, if he could.

  “I just met her.” He stopped. That really wasn’t the way to get his mother to like Alice. “Come on, let’s sit down and I’ll explain.”

  They walked for a bit and found a free table. Paul could see Andy in line at the meat pie stand, chatting with a girl in jeans and a cowboy hat. He smiled. Whatever Andy may think about this trip, he couldn’t deny he was being entertained. Their last business trip involved hours and hours at a hotel bar, watching most of their colleagues slowly get drunk.

  “So, tell me about this gal.” Mrs. Olivier peered toward the bookstore. “Why did she high-tail it out of here like that?”

  Paul paused, trying to think of how to explain Alice.

  “Honey, the look on your face…” She started to laugh. He’d always loved the way his mama laughed, full-throated with her head thrown back. She looked so much younger than her years.

  “It’s complicated, Mama,” he said. He hated that phrase, but it didn’t seem as if a better term was available.

  “Your cousin Jimmy says that every time he gets a new girlfriend and he don’t want us to harass her.” She glanced at the bookstore again. “Does she live there in that fancy place?”

  “Above her shop. It’s a rare book store.”

  “Oh, honey, I bet you just love her for that!” His mama reached over and grabbed his hand. “Is that how you met? Looking for old books? Did you tell her about your collection? You’ve always been such a reader, just like your granddaddy.”

  “Sort of. We’re renting the apartment next to hers and…” He stopped at the look on his mama’s face. “I know what you’re going to say.”

  “Do you, now?” She sighed. “You’re a big boy, Paul. I won’t be telling you how to live your life. But I know how hard it is to live right when the world is living all wrong.” She squeezed his hand. “Listen to me. All worried ‘cause you’ll be living next door to that pretty girl when you’ve been on your own in New York City for years.”

  Paul wanted to remind her he wasn’t staying long, that Andy was his roommate, and that she was looking miles down a path he didn’t even know if he was walking.

  “Who are her people?”

  “Her family name is Augustine. She said her parents died in an accident.” He watched realization dawn on his mama’s face.

  “I remember it. That was a bad one.” She looked down at the table, picking at a little hole in the plastic top. “Drunk driving, they said. His family blamed the wife and her family blamed him. Kids got caught in the middle. Shipped off to the grandma’s house and the grandma wasn’t as sane as she shoulda been.”

  Paul shook his head. He couldn’t imagine that kind of change. His childhood had been ugly, but it hadn’t varied in its ugliness. “I’ve never met anyone like her, Mama.”

  She nodded, waiting for him to go on.

  “We’re both real shy. I mean, she can sure let you know when you’ve done wrong. The first day we met, we got into it over some old books. She’s tough as nails and twice as sharp.” He smiled at the memory. Paul could hear the way his speech was shifting from New York to Louisiana. Being with his mama always did that.

  “Watch out for that, son. The drama is exciting for a while but it wears a body down. And some folks raised in it sometimes don’t ever know how to live in peace.”

  “I know. And it’s not the arguing. I would love to never argue with her again. I just want to be near her. She’s like the antidote to all those years of cocktail party chatter. When she talks to me, I feel like she cuts to the heart of it all. Oh, and she speaks Creole about as well as anybody I’ve ever met. It’s like we’re just the same, deep down.”

  “Except for the part where she hates your guts,” Andy said, dropping into a chair. He laid out the little paper containers of meat pies and removed bottled Cokes from under his arm.

  “She doesn’t hate me. Not exactly,” Paul said hastily. “Just the company. And the new store. And what we do for a living.”

  Mrs. Olivier had been in the process of picking up a meat pie, but she paused, the pie halfway to her mouth. “But she likes something about you well enough to be kissin’ you under the trees in front of the whole town.”

  Paul grinned. “Yup, apparently so.”

  His phone dinged and he reached for it automatically. An email showed on the screen and he tapped it, feeling his heart rate double at the sight of Alice’s name. Won’t be able to meet tonight. He read the note twice, three times. Hadn’t she understood when he quoted Elizabeth Barrett Browning? He thought she’d kissed him because he was BWK.

  He leaned back, running a hand over his face. Alice had kissed him as Paul, the man she couldn’t stand. That news rocked him to his core. She must feel just as strongly for him if she could forget everything else that was happening, everything she’d vowed to fight. She didn’t seem to be the kind of woman who picked a fight for nothing. Or took a kiss lightly, either.

  “Uh oh. That’s not a good look.” Andy was chewing slowly, watching Paul.

  “No, everything’s fine. Just… took a step backwards when I thought we were going forwards.” Paul tossed the phone onto the table and picked up a Coke. “But I’m not going to worry about it now. Tonight,” he said, raising the bottle, “tonight we’re going to enjoy ourselves. Here’s to the new Natchitoches, Louisiana branch of the biggest and best company in gaming.”

  His mama and Andy raised their Cokes in unison. They clicked the glass bottles together and drank, smiling.

  Paul picked up his meat pie, letting Andy take over the conversation for a moment. Andy asked his mama about hiring someone to come cook for them. He smiled as his mama seemed to take it as her personal responsibility to find a good local chef to make them a few meals a day. She took that sort of thing very seriously.

  He let the smile fade from his face as he thought of Alice’s note. He wasn’t going to give up. Now, more than ever, he needed to tell her the truth. Their online connection had been strong enough for him to seek her out in the real world. Their connection in person had overshadowed all of that.

  Paul took a long draught of Coke and stared at the dancers on the stage. At this point, he could still walk away. He could find another place to rent, avoid any contact with her, and let that kiss live in his memory as one perfect moment.

  He thought those words to himself but knew it was a lie. He was going to walk this road to the end, for good or bad. And he hoped with everything in him, it was going to be for good.

  ***

  Alice trotted up the steps to the cathedral just as the bells started to toll. She was never late. Ever. Except for today. She’d tried on ten dresses and none of them looked right. Maybe Eric was right and she needed to take up running. She’d finally picked a pretty pink top with a black skirt. She probably looked like a waitress from one of the cafés . And her hair… there was no taming it. After thirty minutes of fixing, she’d given up. By the time she’d stopped trying to accomplish the impossible, she’d realized it was now or never. Well, now or take the car. She hated to drive just a few blocks. It was wasteful and finding a good parking spot was a bear.

  She had just not been able to get herself in gear. It wasn’t just that she kept checking her email, wondering why BWK had not written her back. She hoped he wasn’t angry. But there wasn’t any reason for him to be upset with her. They’d barely gotten to know each other. Just a few notes. Nothing real. Except that it felt a lot more real than her relationship with Eric.

  Maybe she’d had trouble this morning because she’d slept so badly and then she dreaded trying to get down the hallway without running into Paul or Andy. She sighed. There was no way to come back from last night. The only option was complete avoidanc
e. Then again, she’d said that before and it hadn’t worked out.

  “Hey there, sweetie. Find yourself a spot real quick-like.” Helen Delassixe gave her a kiss on the cheek and tugged her toward the aisle. Alice felt the angst of the morning slowly fade away at the touch of Helen’s papery skin, a little cloud of baby powder accompanying the kiss. The elderly woman had been part of Alice’s Sunday morning since she was a child, before the cathedral was named a minor basilica, and before Alice had become a respected bookstore owner.

  The organ was just reaching its usual roar when Alice slipped into a pew and reached for a hymnal. She knew most of the songs by heart, but if the organist decided to go for that fourth verse, she’d have to get out the songbook anyway. She sung familiar words and felt the muscles in her shoulders start to relax. Sunday morning was her favorite time of the week, bar none.

  Or it had been until a movement caught her eye. She glanced to her left in time to see Paul and his mother coming up the side aisle. Alice felt her mouth drop open and her hands went numb. He wore a nice suit and tie, looked freshly shaved but about as tired as Alice felt. She wondered how long he’d stayed at the festival. She slouched down, hoping they would pass by and head for the front pews. Surely he’d want to be seen by the congregation, especially if he was trying to win support for his store.

  Instead, his mother turned her head and caught Alice’s eye. She smiled, then tugged Paul to a stop. He was staring down at his feet and seemed to follow where she was leading without looking up.

  His mother wouldn’t… she couldn’t… but she did. Alice watched in growing horror as his mother stopped at Alice’s pew, stepped to the side and motioned for Paul to go first. He genuflected, then looked at Alice for the first time.

  She wished she could have seen her own face, because she figured they wore the same expression. Surprise, shock, dread. There was nothing like seeing your make out partner from last night in church the next day.

  “Hey,” he whispered as he side-stepped into the pew.

  “Hey,” she whispered back, and scooted down several feet. She looked longingly at the far end and wished she was bold enough to just keep going until she hit the next aisle. Or even slip away and come back at a later service. But her manners wouldn’t allow her to be so obvious.

  The organist decided three verses was enough and let the last few chords fade away. Alice mumbled the opening greeting and hoped her face was set in a smile. Of course, he couldn’t see her expression since they were shoulder-to-shoulder. He smelled wonderful, as usual, except he lacked the old book smell this time. She let her eyes slide to the left, taking in his charcoal-gray suit and nice dress shoes. She’d figured he spent all his time in T-shirts and jeans, but of course he would be wearing a suit every now and then. Even when the whole world thought you were the cat’s meow, you still had to dress up for church.

  After a few minutes, the congregation settled into the pews for the first Bible reading. As she sat, Alice snuck a look at Paul’s mom. Her dark hair was pulled back and she had just a hint of makeup on her face. She seemed perfectly at ease. Alice would have liked to believe his mom was trying to bring them together. But it was much more likely his mom was trying to give a little nudge in that special way that moms always have. Guilt was always a great way to get the message across, just in case Alice thought she could get caught kissing Paul and get away with it.

  The words all seemed to blend together and Alice clenched her fists, letting her nails dig into her palms, forcing herself to concentrate. As the lector finished the first reading, Alice shifted uncomfortably. She never could have imagined the torture of sitting just feet away from the man she’d kissed, then run away from, and his mother whom she’d refused to meet. At the announcement of the Gospel, the congregation moved to stand and Alice shot a glance at Paul. He looked calm enough, but his jaw was tight and the line of his mouth didn’t speak of happy Sunday vibes. Well, if he thought he was uncomfortable, it was nothing compared to what Alice felt.

  ***

  The last hymn finally faded away and Paul dropped the hymnal into the pew pocket. He cleared his throat, leaned closer, and whispered, “Sorry. I never would have decided to sit in the same―”

  “Paul!” His mama had ahold of his elbow. “Why don’t we have your friend over for lunch?”

  He saw the look on Alice’s face and it would have been funny if he hadn’t felt just the same.

  “Mrs. Olivier, thank you so much but I really should get back,” Alice said, a hint of panic in her voice. She was edging out of the pew, looking around her.

  “You keep the store open on Sundays?” His mama narrowed her eyes. “Or do you have another date?” The another seemed to reverberate in the air between them all.

  “No. And well, no…” Her face turned bright pink. She shot Paul a look and seemed to be asking something, but he shook his head.

  “Please come to lunch, Alice.” He gave a little shrug as he said the words. She met his eyes and at first he thought she was going to argue, but then he added, “please”.

  Her lips turned up at the corners. “That would be lovely,” she said. “I walked here today but I can go home to get my car and meet you wherever you’re going.”

  “Wonderful,” his mama said. “I was just fixin’ to make a little something at Paul’s new place. So, I guess we’re going the same direction.” They walked in silence down the steps and he tried to catch Alice’s eye, but she resolutely faced forward.

  “Paul, why don’t you go get the car while we wait for you in front?” his mama asked. Paul nodded, feeling his stomach drop into his shoes. Leaving his mother alone with Alice was the worst case scenario but he didn’t know how to avoid it.

  With a sigh, he trudged off to the parking lot, hands stuffed in his pockets. He loved his mama but she wasn’t known for being demure and quiet. She spoke her mind, especially when she felt her son was on the wrong track.

  It seemed most of the congregation was skipping the doughnuts and heading for breakfast. There was already a line of cars backed up at the parking lot exit, waiting for a chance to get onto the road. Paul wondered if Andy would be awake. Maybe he could run interference between the two of them and Alice wouldn’t have to suffer through the third degree. That was assuming she wasn’t getting an earful right that minute. At the thought, Paul doubled his pace, beeping the remote unlock button, slipping off his jacket and angling into the seat.

  He’d acted without thinking last night and he couldn’t believe how the situation had gotten more and more complicated. She probably hated him enough as it was, without having to deal with an angry mother bear. Alice was as far from a seductress as could be, but Paul knew how mothers thought. They always believed their child was a saint. His mama was going to give Alice the what for, and make sure she understood that Paul was a good, Catholic boy.

  He slid the car out and took a place in the long line of cars waiting to exit the lot. Well, it was a proven fact he was far from perfect. Alice shouldn’t have to pay the price for that. If he could just get over there quickly enough, he could keep that from happening.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Soon, silence will have passed into legend. Man has turned his back on silence. Day after day he creates machines that increase noise and distract humanity from the essence of life, contemplation, meditation. ― Jean Arp

  Parishioners streamed out of the double doors and after greeting Father Carl, a few headed to the hall for doughnuts and strong coffee. As much as Alice didn’t want to face Paul, watching him walk away had filled her with panic. She stood off to the side of the cathedral, arms wrapped around her middle, Mrs. Olivier waiting quietly next to her. The silence between them felt like an accusation. Alice searched through the crowd, hoping someone would come over and rescue her, but there were only a few waves and one fly-by kiss from old Mrs. Gerbier, her second-grade teacher.

  As the crowd thinned, Alice waited for Mrs. Olivier to say something. Shame mixed with frustration, an
d she repressed a sigh. Of course Paul’s mother was curious and wanted to get to know her. She couldn’t blame the woman for wanting to poke her nose into the situation.

  Mrs. Olivier tucked her hand into Alice’s elbow and smiled, her eyes the same dark brown shade as her son’s, but the wrinkles around them spoke of years of sun and laughter. “My goodness! There were so many people you couldn’t stir ‘em with a stick. We never came to this church when Paul was little. It was too big for us. It still feels a bit fancy for the likes of little ol’ me. I should have dressed up better.”

  “I think you look real nice.” Alice knew when one woman mentioned her looks, the other should offer a compliment. It wasn’t hard to do. It was clear where Paul got his good looks.

  She patted her hair. “Oh, my beauty operator made me look like Betty Boop this week. I don’t know why I bother except I’ve been goin’ to her for years. I can’t just stop. That would be downright rude.”

  Alice smiled. She could see her dilemma.

  “You like to cook?” Mrs. Olivier asked, as if the topics were related.

  “I― I do, actually.”

  “What do you make? Desserts? My sister has the best peach pie recipe. It’s got a secret ingredient.” She leaned close. “If you’re real nice, I might tuck it in your Christmas card.”

  Alice blinked. No words occurred to her. This wasn’t what she was expecting.

  “Paul told me your breakfast got him out of bed one day. He says he wandered up and down the block looking for bacon and hash browns.”

  “He’s got a good nose,” she said, her lips tugging up. She wondered if Paul had mentioned punching her ex-boyfriend that day, too. Probably not. She turned a little, facing Mrs. Olivier. “He speaks Creole really well. Did he learn it from you?”

  “Oui,” she said, pronouncing it “way,” and letting it stretch for a few syllables. “Myself and my family. He wasn’t always real proud of where he came from, but in the last few years, that’s changed a bit.”