Bayou Brides

by Linda Joyce

  “You really love him?” Marquis asked quietly.

  Nola planted her feet on the floor and threw up her hands. “No, I’m crazy sick about the man. But…” The wind in her argument dissipated. “Leave me alone. Go away.” She curled up on the couch into a tight ball.

  “You taught me about positive possibilities,” Kayla accused. “So where’s your oomph? You want him here. I want him here. Let’s work on this together.”

  “Just for the record, I want him in New York for the summer while I’m there,” Marquis interjected.

  Nola narrowed her eyes at him. “Well, you got your wish, didn’t you? Both of you, please just go. Leave me alone.”

  Kayla sighed. “I can’t. I need you to help me get him back. I want to share Arceneau’s with him. Buy Henri out. Rex can buy a farm here, if that’s what he thinks it will take to make the restaurant stand out more. Besides…” Kayla looked down at her hands folded in prayer. “You asked me what I wanted for him. I want him to have the love of his life—you.”

  Tears welled in Nola’s eyes. “I want him, too.”

  “So help me help you.”

  “I can’t ask him to give up New York. I won’t give up my life here. There’s no hope.”

  “It’s called compromise. It’s called working on a relationship.” Marquis stood. “Nola, you have to talk to Rex. You don’t want to sing melody the rest of your life. Harmony is better. Decide on a tempo and work out the rhythm.”

  “It’s a 12/8 beat.” Her chin quivered.

  “The blues?” Kayla asked.

  “Find your bridge,” Marquis continued. “Or this sad shit will be the coda of your life.” He motioned for Kayla and headed toward the door.

  Kayla hugged her, then left shaking her head.

  “Get out!” Nola shouted. “Leave me alone. If I want help, I’ll ask for it.”

  Nola flipped off the light. In the darkness, she hugged her chest. “I’ll get used to him being gone,” she whispered. “Someday.”

  ****

  Rex sat in the office at the farm and stared out the window at the Pennsylvania scenery. It wasn’t yet time to plant in the field, but thankfully the arsonist hadn’t torched the greenhouse where their organic lettuces and kale grew.

  He rubbed around the large burn on his forearm. Trying to throw himself into work, he’d manned the grill rather than running the line. His concentration was off, resulting in the ugly wound. He’d lost his focus. Hell, it wasn’t missing. It stayed behind in New Orleans. He couldn’t get into the rhythm of the kitchen. And in his frustration, he broke nearly every rule he ever set for himself about how to treat employees. The evening host had stepped into the kitchen, cautioning him to keep his voice down as the customers could hear his swearing. If he was going to fight with anyone over anything, he wanted it to be with Nola. That would mean they were together and working on a future.

  “Yo, Rex.” Carter, one of his business partners, walked through the door, slapped Rex’s boot-clad feet off the desktop, and parked in the spot. “What’s the deal?”

  Straightening, Rex handed over spreadsheets from a stack of papers on the desk. “We make enough to hire a full-time farm manager.”

  “I’m not asking about the numbers. What’s with you? It’s like you burned with the building. Your mood is scorched. You’re as much an eyesore as that crumbling building.”

  “It’s coming down tomorrow.”

  “Do you need to be going down, too?”

  “Down?” Rex looked over at Carter and shook his head.

  “You’ve been back for a few days. Yet it’s like your body arrived, but your heart and mind are someplace else. What gives?”

  Nola. Every waking moment I think of her. Dreaming is the only time I can touch her.

  Rex shrugged. “Nothing. Doing my job.”

  “Phillip and I had a meeting last night when the restaurant closed.”

  “Where was I?”

  “Don’t know. You left before we could tell you we wanted to talk.”

  Rex sighed. “I gave you what you came for. I’ll see you back in the city later. I’ll be at the restaurant on time.”

  “Phillip and I think you need to go home. Go back to New Orleans. Something changed you on this last trip. You won’t say what, but we’re betting there are loose ends still needing some closure. We’ve always worked as a team for the good of all. You’ve been outvoted this time. Dude, you lost your father less than two months ago. We think you need some time off.”

  Rex narrowed his eyes at his business partner and friend. They’d met in culinary school and competed to out-create each other with new dishes. “Are the two of you conspiring behind my back?” But could this be the answer he’d been looking for?

  “Hell, yes. But for the good of all of us. You’re dragging down morale at work. Can’t have that. When you’re ready to come back—”

  “What if I don’t?”

  “Not return?”

  “Yeah, what if I go and can’t return?”

  “It’s not like planes are going to stop flying between here and there. What do you mean, can’t?”

  Nola. I need to be with her. Otherwise, I’m existing, not living.

  “My father left the books in a mess. My sister needs my help.” Rex sighed. “New Orleans always has been, always will be, my home.” Conjuring up images of the city, recalling scents of brackish water and frying grease, remembering the notes played by the students in Nola’s band—that he could handle. But being denied the opportunity to ever hold her again. Kiss her lips. Make love to her. That wasn’t a life. He needed her the same way he needed New Orleans.

  Carter shrugged. “Do what you got to do. I’m your friend. You got to be happy. The business part—it’s just business. If it isn’t working for you, Phillip and I will offer to buy you out, or work out a compromise that suits everyone.”

  “Compromise…” Rex muttered. Why couldn’t he and Nola find a compromise? “Let me think about it.”

  “You do that. And until you make a decision, Phillip and I have decided to relieve you from your management duties.”

  Carter rose from his spot and slugged Rex in the arm. “Dude, just keep us in the loop.”

  Through the window, Rex watched him climb into his SUV and drive away. Somehow he’d just gotten fired. Well, not exactly since he owned a third of the company, but the net result was pretty damn close.

  He glanced around the room. Everything was just as it was the last time he’d been there. As though his coming and going had no real impact on anything. The business would carry on with or without him.

  Did Nola feel the same way?

  Ring. Ring.

  “Hello, Mrs. Trahan. How may I help you?”

  “Mr. X. Rex Arceneau, we have a problem that you need to fix.” Biloxi’s tone snapped at him.

  “My sister, bless her heart, has dragged herself here. My family is very concerned. She looks like death warmed over. Her hair is barely combed. Her eyes sunken in. Your sister tells me Nola called in sick on Monday and Tuesday at Harbor House. The only thing she’s done all week is take care of that blasted community band.”

  Was Nola sick? Rex rubbed his chin. Had something happened to her? “What do you want with me, Mrs. Trahan?”

  “I want to know if you’re in love with my sister. Kayla says you are.”

  He’d told Nola he loved her. She hadn’t said it back. “I don’t see what my feelings for your sister have to do with anything. I’m here. She’s there.”

  “Mr. Arceneau, I know a little about family feuds. My husband can fill you in on all the details, if you’d like. But I can’t think you’d want one between ours. A Dutrey-Arceneau feud doesn’t have a nice ring to it.”

  “Noooo, can’t say I see a benefit to that.”

  “Then I’ll expect you tomorrow evening at my parents’ anniversary party. Be prepared to crawl on glass to win my sister back. I know you’re a fabulous chef. I hear you play a good horn. And I hear yo
u have near perfect baritone pitch. You’re accomplished in many of the arts.”

  What did he say to that? “Thanks, Mrs. Trahan, I think.”

  “Compromise. It’s an art, too. One I suggest you start practicing right now. See you tomorrow, X. Rex Arceneau.” Mrs. Trahan ended the call before he could try to make her understand and practice his compromising skills with her.

  Rex raked his fingers through his hair and leaned back in the chair, lifting his feet to the desktop. “Nola,” he whispered into the silence of the room. “I’m coming home. It’s time I put my efforts into my next dream.”

  But did Nola’s feelings match his? He sensed she did, though she’d never said.

  It was time to find out.

  Chapter 23

  Saturday morning dawned, promising perfect weather. Nola had risen early to practice yoga on the upstairs gallery at Fleur de Lis to find some peace from missing Rex. Thankfully, Mother Nature cooperated. Throughout the morning, the humidity remained low, only rising slightly during the early afternoon.

  The start of the party was still a few hours away. So far, everything was running smoothly, thanks to Biloxi. Nola brushed her hair as she watched the activity on the front lawn from her bedroom window. A rented van arrived for the second time that day. Her brother Linc directed it to a spot on the backside of the tent. It was the place designated for Kayla to unload and start her setup for dinner service. Her stunning anniversary cake had been delivered on the first run to Fleur de Lis early that morning.

  Her brother had pitched in, along with her cousin Carson, Branna’s brother, to set up tables, then covered them with turquoise tablecloths and beachy accessories Biloxi had selected. Chairs were unfolded, one for every guest. Her brother even oversaw the placement of the flowers and candles for each table, though he did have some help from Sophie, Biloxi’s French sister-in-law. Whispers among the family hinted that a romance was budding between Linc and sweet Sophie.

  Nola smiled when the pair appeared together leaving the tent. Linc placed a flower in Sophie’s hair.

  “They make a cute couple, but she’s so headstrong, like Nick. I don’t think it can last,” Biloxi said.

  Nola turned. “Don’t you believe in knocking before entering someone’s bedroom?”

  “The door was ajar. It’s not like you’re hiding a man in here.”

  True. However, she’d willingly break the house rules if she could have some time with Rex. What was he doing that moment in New York?

  Biloxi ran her finger over the screen of her electronic notepad, then looked at her watch. “We’re completely on schedule. Let’s go down and make sure Kayla has everything.”

  Nola smiled. “I’m going to check on Camilla. I haven’t seen her since I arrived.” She didn’t want to explain that she hadn’t spoken to Kayla since she tossed her and Marquis out of her apartment. Her only contact had been a curt text to say she hadn’t resolved the issues with Rex.

  “Is something wrong?” Biloxi’s forehead wrinkled with concern.

  “Nothing. Now go. You’ll be able to settle any nerves Kayla is having. I’ll be down in a bit.” And she would, but when she came face-to-face with Kayla again, she wanted their conversation to be private. No eavesdropping by well-meaning family who’d want to fix the problems in her life.

  After Biloxi left, Nola went down the hall to Camila and Jared’s room. “Hey there,” she said, knocking on the open door. “May I come in?”

  “Yes! I need the company.” Camilla winced as she scooted in the bed.

  “I mean this in a good way, you are so big. And you’re glowing. You look radiant.” Nola took the chair beside the bed.

  “Greta comes and plays games to keep me company. Your sister is so wonderful to me. She set up a camera so I can watch the party tonight.” Camilla pointed to the computer monitor on the antique chest of drawers.

  “Are you sure you’re not a spy? We’re not using the real silver, so it’s not like anyone will steal anything.”

  Camilla playfully slapped at her. “No, Boo, but it will make me feel a part of all that’s going on. Have you seen Aunt Deidre’s dress? Woo-hoo!”

  “Momma is a fashion bee. She casts a long shadow. But, I hope I’ve inherited her genes. I want to look that good when I’m her age.”

  “And have a marriage as happy as hers.”

  Nola eyed her. “Not you, too!”

  “It’s a curse. You’re next in line. When are you going to lasso that Rex and get him to the altar?”

  “What do you know about Rex?”

  Camilla smiled. “Darlin’, what don’t I know. X is for Xavier. Rex is his middle name. He’s a king, all right. And from the look on your face, you’ve got it bad. I’m telling you—you got to do what it takes if you want true love. It’s work. It’s a full-time job, but a complete labor of love.”

  Nola blinked. Her vision blurred as her eyes misted. “There’s just no way. He’s New York. I’m New Orleans.”

  “You both share the ‘New’ part,” she joked. “Jared and I are northwestern and southern. We live here, but spend our summers at the ranch. Nola, I’m telling you, find a compromise with Rex. Otherwise, darlin’, you’ll be existing, not living, with a broken heart.”

  Camilla offered a tissue. Nola snatched it from her hand. “Dang you. I miss him so bad. I haven’t heard a word from him all week.”

  “Believe in miracles. Now, I need to rest.”

  Leaving the door slightly ajar, Nola left her cousin’s room and headed back to her own. She pulled a cushion out from under her bed, lit a candle, and began to meditate. Something she’d practiced a couple of times a day since Rex left. It was the only thing that saved her sanity. That and her band kids. Lordy, she didn’t even want to sing.

  Instead of moving her mind into a peaceful place of rolling hills, babbling brooks, and chirping birds, her mind kept jerking back to the last kiss she’d shared with Rex.

  At the restaurant.

  In the dark.

  She was beginning to believe she’d imagined it through a tequila haze. However, once her mind locked onto the image, her body took over, experiencing all the tingling sensations his touch aroused in her. She settled into the feelings and savored the experience—it would be all she ever had of him. Would it sustain her in the future? After a few minutes, she blew out the candle, watching the smoke curl upward and wishing it could carry her love to Rex.

  She slid into a dress that had set her back over a hundred dollars at a secondhand store—the original price nearly five hundred. The large expenditure, she hoped, would stop Biloxi from teasing her about being so stingy with money. And stop her sister from picking out clothes for her.

  “Momma will be proud.” She glanced in the mirror at her reflection in the elegant purple tea-length gown with a lace bodice and long sleeves. It accentuated the narrowness of her waist. The full tulle skirt made it appear as though she glided rather than walked as she moved. The detail she loved the most about the dress were the tiny rhinestones sparkling around her waist.

  Nola braided her hair, then wrapped the long length into a bun on top of her head, securing it with pins. The dangling diamond earrings she borrowed from her sister made her smile. She looked good enough to walk a red carpet. The styling was complete when she slipped on purple, strappy, low-heeled shoes.

  Making her way to the tent, she wanted to be there before the guests began arriving at five p.m. She nodded to Kayla, then joined Biloxi and Linc waiting at the door to greet the party’s invitees. Her sister planned for their parents to make a grand entrance after all the guests had arrived.

  The ballroom set up inside the tent twinkled with a magical ambiance. A partition serving as a backdrop for the band glowed with tiny white lights. Up above, over the tables, strings of lights hung from tent supports like icicles. Balloons covered the ceiling and glittering stars dangled from their streamers, making them appear as though the stars twinkled.

  “Ready?” she called to the band
leader.

  “Let’s get this party started!”

  The combo played the first song on the music set list she’d carefully selected. She’d sung with these same musicians many times over the last ten years at nearly every event they played at Fleur de Lis. Their timing always hit perfectly.

  When her parents, Deidre and Sean Dutrey, appeared in the doorway, the band played a contemporary anniversary song written by a New Orleans musician who’d relocated to Dallas after Hurricane Katrina.

  All the guests rose and applauded. Nola tingled with excitement. She kissed Momma, then Daddy, as they paused to greet each of their children.

  Biloxi stepped to the microphone. “Thank you for coming tonight to help us celebrate the thirty-fifth anniversary of our parents. We hope you’ll enjoy the evening. The buffet is now open, courtesy of Arceneau’s in New Orleans. And, Daddy, all your favorites are there, plus some salad just for Momma.” Biloxi stepped off the stage. The band continued to play, and then she stepped back up. “Oh, one more thing. Our cousin Camilla is on bed rest due to her pregnancy. This camera over here is a way for her to witness the party. Please pass by and give her a wave. Everyone, enjoy.”

  On the way to the stage for her first song, Nola passed the five-tier cake perched on a round table in the middle of the tent. The turquoise cake covered in fondant matched the turquoise of the tablecloths. Each tier had been meticulously decorated with a band of lace that looked so real that Nola wanted to touch it to be certain it was edible. Seed pearls accented the lacey look. Kayla had topped the cake with handmade fondant flowers. The numbers 3 and 5 glittered in the middle. She had outdone herself. It was the most beautiful creation Nola’s artistic friend had ever made.

  Nola detoured to Kayla. “I’m sorry about what happened at my apartment. I’ll apologize appropriately later, but know that your cake is stunning. Thank you.”

  Kayla winked. “I plan to make one for you. I can’t wait until you’re Fleur de Lis’ next bride.”

  Nola tilted her head, uncertain what her friend meant, then continued to the microphone stand on stage.

  She applauded as the musicians finished their number. “This first song I’m going to sing is one of Momma’s favorites. Growing up, my sister and brother and I heard the stories of how our parents met. I’m sure most of your parents have stories like that.” She counted down for the band. “One. Two. Three.” Then she sang the song Roberta Flack made famous before Nola was born, “The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face.”