"Oh! You're Irish. How wonderful! Are you a student at Tulane?"
"Aye. I'm studyin' photography. Maybe one day I'll 'ave a show of photographs."
"That would be excellent. Let me know whenever you have something ready. I'll talk to Pierre."
"Lately most of my photographs have been of Patrick."
"It must be love," laughed Neely.
"Aye, it is."
Trista was about to burst. She was exceedingly grateful when the doorbell rang. It was Ray, Larkin, Christopher, Courtney, Cherie, Albert, and Dorothy. Trista introduced Jenna as Patrick's surprise and by first name only.
Everyone was warm and cordial. Ray said, "Well, it's about time Patrick brought you here."
"Excuse me?" said Jenna.
"I confess I knew Patrick had a female roommate because I had him watched before Lloyd Palermo was arrested."
"Ah," said Jenna. "Patrick said once 'e thought 'e was bein' followed. 'E was a bit apprehensive."
"I left him a voicemail, but I bet he never checked it."
"It's all roight. Ya were protectin' 'im."
"I think it's wonderful," said Larkin. Then, she joked, "Finally, another redhead for the family besides Cherie and me."
"Aye," agreed Jenna with a delightful smile.
Patrick, Raif, and Townes came in with the wildflowers Neely wanted and the ladies arranged them. Trista introduced Jenna in the same manner to her father and her husband. Raif said, "I was worried Patrick might never meet a woman, but I can see he has very good taste. He inherited that from me."
Jenna blushed but laughed. Raif made eye contact with Ray who mouthed, "The roommate."
By six o'clock, the house was jammed. Neely had arranged tables in the large open sun room so that everyone would be together to eat. She had the children's table for Cherie, Lydia, Leah, Roxanne, who wanted to change tables, Lucy, Marley, and Tate Blackwell. Ashton, Lacey, and Christine had to have high chairs close to their mothers. There were the young adult tables for Patrick, and now Jenna, Parker and Sheena, Trista and Townes, Courtney, Kyle, Kimberly, Tasha and Wesley Johnson, and Brian Baker's three children and their significant others. She had the adult table for Ray and Larkin; Terry and Carol Johnson; Brian and Olivia Baker; Saul and Deanna Blackwell; Amile Barbeau and his wife Francine who was pregnant for their first time at forty; Wylie and Esther Combs who came in for the occasion and had a chair for their baby, Forrest; Dupree and Lindsay, Miss Maxine Carmichael, who had been Parker Reynolds's one good foster parent and who Ray had tracked down and befriended, and Raif and her. Last, she had the wisdom table for Albert and Dorothy Reynolds; Walter and Audrey Betram; Auggie and Rona Fairchild; Estelle Funchess, Dupree's mother; Colleen DuPin; and Mother Superior Mary Alex Samuels who they had insisted join the family.
Jenna whispered, "Aire ya sure, Patrick, this isn't an Irish family?"
"No, this is Cajun."
As was the custom, the host had to tell what he was thankful for, make a toast, and say a prayer. Raif stood. "First, I'm thankful I have a big house. If this family keeps growing, we'll need two turkeys."
"We already do. I brought a fried one this time," heckled Ray.
Raif dipped his head. "Thank you, my brother, for your gift of foresight. Last year I was thankful for my fiancée. This year I'm thankful for my wife, Neely. She brings me joy with every moment. I'm thankful that the evil that has stalked this family has finally been put to rest, but I continue to pray for justice. I'm thankful for the friends and family I already had, but this year I am exceedingly thankful for three new daughters, Lydia, Leah, and Lacey."
Raising his left hand like a school boy Patrick thought, I can't believe nobody but Trista noticed the wedding band.
"Patrick, would you like to say something?" asked Raif playfully.
Patrick stood and made eye contact with his father. "Four new daughters, although Jenna's not exactly new. I know Trista has introduced her to everybody, but she didn't introduce her properly since I told her to let me do the telling. Jenna and I are married and have been for two years." Patrick exhaled before he fainted.
Raif set his wine glass on the table. "Excuse me?" His brow creased. "Perhaps, I misunderstood you. Married for how long?"
"Two years."
Raif took several breaths. He glared at Patrick just as Trista had predicted. Then, he spoke slowly and softly. "Patrick Louis Gautier, how could you have kept that beautiful lady a secret for two years? How could she have let you get away with that? Why are you telling us now?"
"She threatened to divorce me."
"Good. For. Her. Patrick, in the garden. Now."
Raif started out the sliding door and paused. "Ray, would you bless the food so everyone can eat before the meal gets cold, please?"
"That's what microwaves are for. We don't eat without the host," answered Ray.
Raif nodded and gave Patrick the come-hither finger. Patrick followed his father. His mother's voice rang in his ears. "Surprise doesn't cover this."
30
A Miracle
Noone inside said a word except for Ray. He whispered to Larkin, "The tail I had on Patrick told me he was living with a girl. They even sent me a picture, but I had no idea they were married."
"Why didn't you tell Raif?"
"I did. I told him Patrick's roommate was a female, but I didn't tell him where she works."
"That would be?" She stretched her eyes wide.
"A gentlemen's club. She's a stripper."
"Ray." She shook her head. "You're exasperating sometimes. Too late now," scolded Larkin. "Be quiet. I want to try to hear Raif."
Ray glanced around. "So does everybody else." He's so soft-spoken nobody will hear him. I bet they're all wondering if this will be the one time he finally snaps and yells like I do. Nope. Not my brother.
Jenna sat uncomfortably at the table. She felt every person must be staring at her. Her eyes welled with tears.
"Excuse me," said Neely softly. She went to Jenna. "Come with me." She held out her hand and took the girl to the master bedroom.
In the garden, Raif asked simply, "Why?"
"Why what?"
"Where do I begin, Patrick?" He leaned his head to the side. "Two years. How did you meet her? When did you decide to get married? How did you get married? Why have you been lying for two years? Do you realize you've made me a criminal? I've claimed a married, independent child on my taxes for the last two years. Income tax fraud is a crime. Do you want the IRS to take everything I own and put me in jail? Talk to me, Patrick."
Patrick rubbed his chin and looked around at his mother's meticulously kept flower garden that had some kind of flowers blooming all year. The bronze, orange, crimson, and yellow mums seemed to speak encouragement to him. He took a deep breath and began.
"I met Jenna right after that plagiarism trash. The guys took me out to celebrate where she works. We started dating, and I fell in love, Dad. You know the night at Aunt Larkin's Christmas shindig when I got a call?"
Raif nodded.
"It was Jenna. She had been assaulted at work. When I saw the bruises on her arms, all I wanted to do was take care of her and make sure she was safe. I thought the best way to do that was as her husband. We went to Butler, Alabama, and got married. I couldn't tell you that Christmas because it was the first Christmas after Mom's death. You were still hurting so much. Then, there was the stuff with Trista and Townes followed by your involvement with Neely. Then, there was the Neely and Trista crap. Then, you were away. Then, the girls. There was never a right time."
Excuses are like asses, floated through Patrick's mind.
"Bullshit! This is not about me." Raif snapped. "Colleen told me you brought a girl to dinner at Amile's, and Ray told me your roommate was a girl. You were being watched during the Lloyd stuff while everybody else was under some kind of protection. I take it you never listened to Uncle Ray's voicemail to you." He shook his head. "What is it about this girl you don't want me to know? Is she an illegal
and married you for a green card?"
"No, Dad. I love her, and she loves me."
"Yeah, so much you kept her a secret until she threatened to leave you. There's something you're still hiding. What is it? If you don't tell me, I'll ask her."
"Mom's voice told me to tell you."
Chris spoke to Patrick too? "You heard your mother's voice, and didn't listen?" Raif snorted. "She talks to me too. I listen. Now, I'm giving you the chance to come clean. Don't make me ask Jenna."
Patrick shuffled his feet in the fallen leaves. "You wouldn't."
"Watch me."
Raif went inside. "Where's Jenna?"
Larkin said, "Neely took her to y'all's room."
"Thank you."
"Dad!" Patrick shouted at the door.
With a sharp point toward his son, Raif said, "You had your chance."
Raif walked into his bedroom to see Neely holding Jenna to let her cry. She sobbed, "I don't want 'im to 'ate me, Neely. I love Patrick so much."
"It's gonna be all right, darling. Raif's here. Talk to him." She let go. "I'll be right outside."
"Be gentle," came Chris's voice.
Neely left Raif with his daughter-in-law. He said kindly, "First, I don't hate you. Why has Patrick kept you a secret? He's spouting all kinds of hogwash about my mourning and pain and problems. He's lying to me. Don't do the same. What's he keeping from me?"
"'E's ashamed of me though 'e won't say it."
"Why?" Raif shook his head as if he had not heard correctly. "You're stunning and sweet and intelligent. What could he possibly be ashamed of? Himself, I would hope."
"No, Mr. Gautier, 'e's ashamed of what I do. 'E doesn't want his family to know 'e married a stripper. I dance in a gentlemen's club, but that's all I do—dance."
She's ashamed too. That's why she's being defensive. "Oh." He dipped his chin to his chest, a slight smile on his face. "Isn't there something else you can do?"
"Not and make the kind o' money I do."
"Hmm." Raif sniggered and covered his mouth to try and stifle a full-blown laugh. "He's also afraid I'll cut off the gravy train. He's right. He's about to have to go to work for real—more than eight weeks during the summer."
Raif sat next to the girl. "Jenna, I'd like for you to find another job even if it pays less. It's not the safest job you could have. Patrick told me you were assaulted at work. Do something with your photography. I can't continue to support Patrick. He has to grow up. Has he even been going to summer school?"
"Aye. Don't ya know? 'E said ya pay for it." She nodded vigorously.
"I pay via the account I set up for him. I put money in his account, and he writes his own checks."
"'E's taken a full load each summer. 'E'll graduate this May."
"That's had to have been tough. I know he's taken at least eighteen hours each semester. He must be worn out and so must you."
Her big blue eyes still brimmed tears when she made eye contact with her father-in-law. "Aire ya gonna stop payin' for 'is education? All 'e ever talks aboot is comin' to work with 'is da."
"No, I'll pay tuition and books, but he's going to have to work for the rest. What about you? Who pays your tuition?"
"I do."
"Not anymore. Now, you can afford to get another job. I don't hate you. I do wish I had known about you sooner."
"I do, too." She took a deep breath.
Raif took Jenna's hand. "Where's your family? Are you here all alone?"
"Me grandmother lives in Dublin. She's all I 'ave."
"Does she know about Patrick?"
"Aye, but I canna afford to take 'im 'ome to meet 'er."
"How would you like for me to bring her here? Maybe for Christmas? Does she know what you do?"
Jenna shook her head. "She would be mortified."
"Find another job, honey. Would you like her to come?"
"Aye. It would be a miracle."
"Call me the miracle worker. Now, do you think we could go and eat? I'm starving. I can keep a secret, too. I won't tell anybody else."
"Thank ya."
Raif and Jenna came into the sun room with his arm around her. He showed her to her spot next to Patrick, who stared at his empty plate, and took his. Raif picked up his glass. "As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted, I'm thankful for my growing family." Raif raised his glass. "The more, the merrier." He bowed his head, blessed the food, and served his plate. Jenna looked at him. He raised his glass to her. She felt warm all over. She knew a miracle had happened. She was welcome in this family.
31
The Miracle Worker
Thenext day, Raif uncharacteristically went into the office. He normally took the whole Thanksgiving weekend off. First, he called Saul Blackwell for they had not had the chance to discuss the situation after dinner.
"Saul, I didn't want to bother you with this yesterday. What do I do to fix the tax thing for the last couple of years?"
"I'll take care of it, Raif. There are certain circumstances under which you can still claim a married child, maybe even his spouse. You might come out ahead in this. I'll get you whatever you need to sign. And if you do have to pay, well, you'll do what's right. We can also make payment arrangements if necessary. I'll get back to you. We may possibly be able to simply make adjustments before April 15th."
Raif hung up knowing his dilemma was in good hands. Next, he placed a call to Amelia Thornton on the number he had gotten from Jenna. "Mrs. Thornton, hello. I'm Raiford Gautier, Patrick's father."
The aging grandmother fretted easily. "Mr. Gautier, what's the matter? 'As somethin' 'appened to Jenna?"
"No, no. Don't worry. Everything's fine. Mrs. Thornton, I'd like to give Jenna a special Christmas gift—you. I'd like to fly you here for Christmas. I'll even gladly fly over there to meet you first and make the arrangements from that end."
"Mr. Gautier, I'm quite old. A trip to America might kill me—worse leavin' Jenna to come back might kill me."
"Then, I'm sure I could arrange for you to stay. We can begin permanent arrangements, if you'd like. I'm an architect. I could even build you a house if everything works out."
"Does Jenna want me there?"
"I think she misses you. I hear the catch in her voice when she talks about you. So, will you let me do this?"
"What kind o' man aire ya to do this for a stranger?"
"You're the grandmother of my daughter-in-law. That makes you family. We need to get the immigration process started so we can have you here by Christmas. I might take quite some time to make you a permanent resident though. I can fly out next"—Raif flipped through his calendar—"Wednesday. Will that suit you?" I will never tell this lovely lady that Patrick kept his marriage a secret from us. Damn it, son! I am still so angry with you.
"More than ya know, Mr. Gautier."
"Please, call me 'Raif,' and I'll call you whatever Jenna calls you."
"She calls me 'Gram.'"
"Then, 'Gram' it is. I'll see you Wednesday, Gram."
Raif's next call was to Pierre Charmant. "Raif, darling, what can I do for you?" Pierre greeted his old friend.
"You can give my daughter-in-law a job."
"Your what?"
"Yes. It seems while I was dealing with the loss of my wife, Patrick was dealing with the gain of his." Raif snorted over the line. "Patrick eloped two years ago, and finally found it necessary to tell us yesterday when the girl got fed up with living a lie and threatened to divorce him."
"That must have made interesting dinner conversation."
"You have no idea."
"Do tell."
"He married a bonny Irish lass." Raif affected an Irish accent. "She's a fledgling photographer. She might even have a show for you in a couple of years. Her brogue alone will bring in a crowd."
"Actually, one of my hostesses just quit. What has she been doing? Is she a student? Would this be part time?"
"Yes, to the last two questions. She has been—are you ready for this?" He took a
deep breath. "She has been dancing in a gentlemen's club."
Pierre cackled. "Patrick eloped with an exotic dancer?"
"Yes."
"Raif, I'll give the girl a job if you invite me to family Thanksgiving next year."
"Why wait? Come for Christmas. Bring Charles with you. Lord, the two of you have been together thirty years. Like I toasted last night about this crazy, mixed-up, very unconventional family, 'The more the merrier.'"
"Well, I accept. I also need to talk to you about an expansion. I'd like to annex the adjacent building, but it needs a lot of renovation. Which genius can you send me to make it grand?"
"Hmm. How about another novice with a lot of talent? How about Patrick? I've seen his designs. He's good. He gets it from me." Raif chuckled. "Besides, he has to work now that he's a married man."
"Well, I know he gets his talent from his father. Of course, I'll give him a shot."
"You know, Pierre, I'll look over whatever he gives you. He has to do an internship next semester anyway. He's lucky he has a business just dying to bring him on board."
"He's lucky to be your son. Send both of them around next week. I'll see you Christmas afternoon. Give my prize artist a kiss for me."
Raif leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. Lord, give me strength to deal with all of this. I've been on this emotional rollercoaster for two and a half years. Lord, I'm tired. I never realized how easy life was with Chris. I do thank you for my family. We are a miracle, aren't we? Thank you. I found my strength.
Raif's next call was to Ray. "I was wondering when my phone would ring," answered Ray. "Wanna talk?"
"Yes. Lunch at Amile's at noon."
"I'll be there."
The brothers met for lunch. Raif ordered two glasses of wine. "I need this to tell you the whole story, but I don't drink alone."
"Wow!" laughed Ray after hearing all the events. "It sounds like you really are a miracle worker."
"I'd still like to strangle Patrick, not because he married, as rash as that was. I want to knock a knot on his head for lying. How does he think that poor girl felt? It was completely selfish to keep her a secret. She really loves him, Ray."
Broken (The Raiford Chronicles #3 Book 1) Page 21