by Tina DeSalvo
“I don’t know what the hell you said,” he shouted back, turning the car around and heading back to the main road. “Relax. She doesn’t drive that way on the main roads. Just on her own property.”
“That does not make me feel any better. There's a huge ditch on the side of this road.” She looked at him. “You don’t look like that excuse makes you feel any better either.”
“Not a ditch. A bayou.”
“That is not a bayou. It’s too small and dry to be a bayou.”
“That’s Little Bayou Avril. It has water in it in April. The spring. I’m not going to argue about this with you now.” Beau turned onto the highway. He hit the gas pedal and the sports car went from 0 to 70 in seconds, feeling as smooth and gradual as if they were just on a leisurely Sunday drive. “See. There she is. She’s driving much slower.”
“She’s stopped at a red light!” She opened her door and started to get out, but the light changed and Tante Izzy took off in a jerky acceleration. “Go. Go. Go.” Jewell shouted to Beau, closing her door.
“I’m going. Calm down.”
Jewell strained to look inside the truck, past the gun rack in the rear window. “Your family should consider evaluating her gun privileges, too. Oh, my word. Is that Mimi trying to take the rifle out of the rack?”
“Looks like Ruby’s stopping her. Oh, wait. That’s cousin Pearl. I see her blue dress and dark hair.”
Tante Izzy reached the next red traffic light and slammed on the brake, stopping in the middle of the intersection. Jewell jumped out and raced to the truck. She knocked on the driver’s window and opened the door. “Mimi, leave that gun alone,” she said in French. Then she began speaking in English. “Ruby, would you mind climbing into the backseat with her and sitting on Mimi’s hands?”
Ruby answered ‘yes’ in Cajun French, opened the passenger door and got into the backseat, shoving and pushing on the other ladies who were protesting how tight it was. Pearl climbed out of the truck and walked to Beau’s car and climbed in. Beau got out of his car and walked toward the truck.
“Tante Izzy, put this truck in park…Please.” Jewell continued in French. “I’m driving.”
“You sound upset. Do you need a ride? Did Beau kick you out his car?” Tante Izzy looked out the window at Beau, who was approaching her truck. “He looks upset too.”
“I think it’s because you were driving like a wild woman,” Ruby said from the backseat. “You scared me to death.”
Tante Izzy harrumphed. “You don’t look dead to me.” She put the truck in park. “I just didn’t want to be late for bible study, dat’s all.”
“I think you should let Jewell drive,” Ruby said, looking at Beau, who was standing next to Jewell. “Tell her, Beau. She’ll listen to you. All women do.”
“My Jewell is a good driver,” Mignon interrupted. “She never had a wreck a day in her life.”
“You can’t say the same thing, Tante Izzy,” said Beth.
“Jewell, you drive my car,” Beau said, patting Tante Izzy on the shoulder. “You don’t mind if I drive your truck and let these ladies calm down a bit.”
“I can’t sit on her hands, Jewell,” Ruby shouted. “Her big ol’ rings are cutting into my derrière. It hurts. I’ll be so embarrassed if I have to go the ER and get stitches in my fesse.”
“Stitches?” Jewell laughed, and lowered her voice. “Just don’t let her touch the rifle. She can’t be trusted with firearms.” She looked at Beau. “Thanks for offering to drive Tante Izzy’s truck but I think I should stay with Mimi.”
Beau ran his hand through his hair, looked at Mimi staring at the rifle in the rack. “Take her into my car, away from the temptation.”
“If she goes in you car, Beau, I go, too. I’m takin’ care of her. She is my responsibility.” Tante Izzy insisted.
“Okay. Allons.” Jewell motioned for them to get out of the truck. Tante Izzy, Ruby and Mimi slid, grunted, waddled, and pushed their way out of the truck into the middle of the intersection.
Beau jumped into action, directing what little traffic that came by safely around them. He joked with the people in the cars, too, diffusing what definitely could’ve been a really dangerous and embarrassing situation, especially when Mimi and Tante Izzy started arguing in French over who would sit in the front seat. While they argued, Beau moved Tante Izzy’s truck to the side of the road next to his car. When he walked back to his car, Pearl had settled the argument over riding “shotgun” by telling them that she was not getting out of the front seat of the fancy two-door car. She just wasn’t doing it.
Pearl leaned her tall body forward and folded her long legs up against the dashboard as Beau tilted the seat as far forward as he could so Tante Izzy could climb into the back. It wasn’t working. Tante Izzy was small but not agile enough to maneuver into the small space.
“This isn’t going to work,” Jewell said, looking at the pink truck and Beth, who was texting inside of it. No doubt she was already telling all of Cane what a scene they created in the middle of the highway.
“I’ve got this, Boots.” Beau grinned his sexy grin, put down the convertible top, and lifted his petite aunt into his arms, carefully tucking her pink cotton dress tightly against her legs. “How you doing, darlin’?”
“I feel like a young bride,” she laughed, as he placed her into the backseat.
Jewell looked at Mimi. At nearly 180 pounds, she was going to have to get her in the car another way. “We really need to let Mimi sit in the front,” Jewell said to Pearl, who immediately blew out a heavy breath and got out of the car. But when Jewell turned to help her grand-mère into the car, she had her arms lifted up to Beau. He bent over, picked her up, his arms beneath her knees and shoulders, and placed her in the backseat like she was a young child.
“There you go, princess. You’re in your chariot.” Jewell’s heart swelled seeing how kind he was to her grand-mère.
“Now that we got this all settled,” Pearl said, sliding into the front seat of the BMW, “can we get to our bible study?”
“Be careful drivin’ my truck,” Tante Izzy called to Beau as he started to walk away. “Don’t you drive too fast or take a turn too sharp. I got some bouillé in a pot on da floor up front. It’s my turn to bring dessert for da potluck.”
Tante Izzy touched Jewell on the shoulder once she got in the car and started it. She glanced at her.
“I don’t understand,” she said. “Why did you stop me in da middle of da highway?”
Jewell pulled behind Beau as he led the way to the church. “I, uh…” She didn’t want to tell her that she’d stopped her because she was scared out of her mind by the way she was driving. She’d had that awful conversation with Mimi, the one that involved telling her she didn’t have the ability to drive safely any longer. She would let Tante Izzy’s family have that heart-to-heart with her when they felt the time was right…which would probably be soon. She could tell her the truth, though, about why they started to go after her in the first place. “I wanted to ask you about the Bienvenu family bible. The one that your mother and father had.”
“Oh, you mean da one I have in da truck?” She pointed to her pink pickup truck. “I use it for bible study.”
“That’s great! Are the family births recorded in it?”
“Births, marriages, deaths…my grand-pépère François gave it to my papa and his first wife when dey got married. My momma found it a few months after she married my papa. She was da one who recorded his first wife’s death in da bible and every birth and death after dat until she died.”
“We have a family bible from our mother,” Pearl said. “My sister, Beth, has it.”
“Are you a Bienvenu?” Jewell asked, wondering where in the generations Pearl’s bible began. Did she copy the earlier dates and record it in her bible as many families did?
“Yes and no. Beth and I are Cheramies. We married Bienvenu brothers.”
“Sisters married brothers,” Tante Izzy clarified. “Der
e husbands’ grandfather was Aguste’s second cousin. He came to America to work on the plantation. He came before I was born, but died when I was a little girl. He had t’ree sons. Dey are not all in my family bible. My brothers are and some of the children.”
There were so many Bienvenu heirs today, but she knew from her research there were only Tante Izzy and the families of Ben and Beau that were from the same branch as the original plantation owner.
And Martine.
Jewell was anxious to look at the recorded births to see if there was another name or notation that might have been overlooked or not noted anywhere else in her research.
“My momma has a family bible, ma sucrée,” Mimi said.
“You never mentioned it before when I was doing research on our family history and couldn’t find anything. I had even asked you if you had any documentation, including a bible.” Jewell wasn’t sure if Mimi was claiming to have a bible now because she wanted to be part of the conversation or if there was truth in her statement. It was plausible there was a family bible, but why had she told her there wasn’t one all those years ago? “Where is it?”
“Momma keeps it in the chest at the foot of her bed.”
Was it an old memory or a memory of someone else’s discussion? “What color was the bible?”
“Black leather with purple velvet.”
“Unusual.” Not something someone of their class would’ve had, if it was even manufactured. A custom-made cover could have those details. “I would love to see it.” Jewell would have to question her more about it later, before trying to formulate some conclusions.
“I want to see it too,” Tante Izzy said.
“Me too,” Mimi repeated.
“Don’t you have it?” Tante Izzy looked at Mimi.
Jewell glanced at her grand-mère in the rearview mirror, trying to gauge if she was truly present in their conversation. Her eyes looked bright, clear, and focused. “I gave it to Praline.”
Why in the world had she done that? Her mother would never appreciate the sentimental and historical value of the family bible.
“Who is Praline?”
“My mother.”
Pearl looked at Jewell. “Your grandmother named her daughter after a famous stripper?”
“Mais, non,” Mimi answered, not giving Jewell a chance to deflect the question. “Praline is my daughter.”
Pearl smiled. “My momma had dementia, too. I know how confused it makes them.”
Jewell sighed. She couldn’t falsely blame Mimi to save herself embarrassment. “Mimi isn’t confused,” she said, making sure her voice held no apology or excuses. “Praline, the famous stripper, is my mother.”
Pearl’s eyes widened. She gasped, but immediately closed her mouth.
“Son of a gun,” Tante Izzy shouted. “Do you t’ink she’ll teach me how to pole dance? I always wants to learn dat.”
“Oh, for God’s sake, Tante Izzy,” Pearl gasped. “Look, there’s the church.”
The blinker started flashing on Tante Izzy’s truck in front of them, saving Jewell from answering Tante Izzy, who was now chattering how she could use Mimi’s steady cane to learn to pole dance instead of a real fireman’s type pole because it was more her height. She only paused in her excited description to make the customary Catholic sign of the cross as they passed in front of St. Anthony’s Church to turn into the shell parking lot next to it. Mimi and Pearl had also automatically crossed themselves without thought.
Jewell parked behind Beau and immediately got out of the car and away from the pole-dancing conversation. Beau climbed out of the truck that looked an impossible neon pink in the bright afternoon sunlight. Masculine and totally comfortable in his own skin, he could have been exiting a black monster truck, the way he walked with confidence and ease, she thought, watching him close the door behind Ruby before walking over to their car.
“Enjoy the smooth drive in my hot ride?” he asked, grinning.
“Jewell’s stripper momma is goin’ to teach me to pole dance,” Tante Izzy announced to him as he helped her out of the car. “You wants to learn too, Mignon?”
She nodded. “Yes, I do.” She looked up at Beau, who was now helping her out of the car. “You’re a nice man.”
“Your momma is a stripper?” Ruby asked from where she’d walked up near the car.
“Not just any stripper,” Pearl said, coming around the car, anxious to share what she knew. “She’s the infamous Miss Praline from Bourbon Street.”
“She still has her figure,” Beth added. “How does she look like a twenty-six-year-old?”
“Must be plastic surgery,” Pearl chimed in, not sounding mean-spirited. “Maybe she’ll share the doctor’s name with us. I’d like to look twenty-six again.”
“He’d have to be God to get you looking twenty-six, Pearl,” Beth told her. “Maybe you can look fifty-six.”
“Do you think Praline would come to Cane for a benefit to raise money for the church?” Ruby asked Jewell. “I don’t think Father Mark will mind that she’s a stripper, being she’s so famous and all.”
“Sister Isabelle will,” Pearl said, tsking. “That’s for sure.”
“Oh, mon Dieu.” Tante Izzy rolled her eyes. “You always trying to get a celebrity for some kind of benefit, Ruby.” She turned to Jewell. “She almost got George Clooney to come one time. But Elli didn’t know him.”
“She knew his stylist,” Ruby added, as if that explained what the heck they were talking about. Jewell was getting dizzy trying to follow the conversation. She was just glad it had moved off her mother.
“Do you think Miss Praline would come judge the quilt contest at the Downtown Cane City Festival?” Ruby asked. So much for moving off her mother. Jewell shrugged.
“Tell your mother that if she wants to convert, she is more than welcome at our bible study,” Pearl offered.
“Convert to what?” Tante Izzy asked. “She’s Catholic like you and Mignon, right? Or is she Hindu or somet’in’? Hmm.” She thumped the side of her chin with her thin, bent arthritic fingers. “Come to think of it. I did saw her in a TV ad one time doin’ yoga.” She looked at Pearl. “Yoga ain’t as good for the leg muscles as pole dancin’. Right, Jewell? Pole dancin’ is better.”
Jewell looked at Beau for guidance in how to answer his aunt or what to say to his cousins, whose conversation had run amok. He was laughing. He was actually laughing. While she was sinking in red-faced misery, he was having a grand time. She shoved his arm hard. He stumbled a step.
“You see Mignon and these ladies safely inside. I’m going back to work at the barn.” Where she could make sense of the world.
She jumped in his car, ready to make a quick exit, but saw Mimi frowning at her.
“Do you want to come with me, Mimi?” she asked in French.
“No, ma sucrée. I’m having the time of my life. I’m going to learn to pole dance at bible study,” she answered speaking French.
Jewell’s mouth fell open. Never a dull moment...
As she turned to tell Ruby to call her when she was ready for her to pick up Mimi, she saw Ruby and Pearl flank each side of her grand-mère and help her walk toward the church. She heard Pearl speaking to her, offering her a walker to use. She’d done it in a way that wouldn’t bruise Mimi’s pride. Jewell felt a rush of emotion and relief. Maybe these women could finally convince her that it was time to give up the cane and use the walker.
“It’s one of those royal blue fashion models with a pretty sky blue seat. That chair is really special, Mignon. You’ll feel like you have your very own personal chair with you whenever you need it.”
“And it has a nice basket,” Ruby added. “It’s perfect for shopping at the estate sales you go to with Jewell. Think about how many more pretty things you can buy if you have that basket.” She leaned forward and looked at Pearl. “I think I want one, too. You don’t happen to have a second one at your house for me, do you?”
“No, just the one,” Pearl said.
“Well, you can’t have mine,” Mimi snapped.
Jewell’s throat was tight with emotion as she waited for Ruby to finish speaking to Beau.
“Go on,” she said to him. “We’re fine. I called my better half to come get us. Big John is happy to do it.”
“Thanks, Ruby.” Beau climbed into Tante Izzy’s truck.
Jewell started the car and took in a deep fortifying breath. It was going to be okay. Mimi was making progress. She would get around better with a walker. She enjoyed socializing.
“You see that work, work, work ethic,” Jewell heard Mimi tell the ladies escorting her. “She gets that from me and her momma.”
“What about her daddy?” Ruby asked. “Was he a hard worker too?” Instead of driving off, Jewell hesitated to hear what Mimi would say.
“No, he was a lazy good-for-nothing,” she began, speaking loud and clear. “He was a rich son of a bitch who never worked a day in his life.”
Pain shot into Jewell’s chest and her knees turned to rubber. Mimi had known who her biological father was when she’d sworn to her over the years that she did not.
Mimi had lied to her.
Jewell knew that as certainly as she knew the cloudless sky above her was blue. Mimi’s admission hadn’t been the statement of a confused woman. There was too much heat behind her words, emotion. Reality. If anything, it was the unguarded words of a woman whose dementia had stolen her ability to keep secrets.
Mimi had lied to her, all these years.
When Jewell was five, Mimi told her she didn’t know who he was. She repeated the same thing again when Jewell had asked her directly about his identity when she was thirteen and again while researching their family ancestry in grad school. Other than those three times, they had never spoken of him.
Although it didn’t feel true, Jewell wondered if Mimi had actually discovered her biological father’s identity later. Maybe she hadn’t lied at the time of their heart-baring conversations.
No. Dear God, no. Mimi knew. She’d always known. It hurt so much to learn that the one person whom she’d thought had always been honest and truthful with her was not.