Charlie slipped her hand into his. “Remember when we first met and you quoted Jules Verne. I was floored that there was a guy out there still reading A Journey To The Center of the Earth.”
“You looked at me like I’d grown another head.”
“Science, my lad, is made up of mistakes, but they are mistakes which it is useful to make, because they lead little by little to the truth.” Her smile turned serious at the edges. “I think they’ve been playing it safe, not wanting to take a risk. Maybe they need to make a few mistakes to get to the truth.”
Austin thought of Perry and wondered if his mistakes were going to bring him back safely, or if the truth would be much harsher. Eventually the juvenile justice system ran out of options and teens ended up in the adult prison system. Perry had a rap sheet a mile long and had been on his last chance.
She squeezed his hand. “Hey, if you really think it’s that horrible, I’ll stay out of it.”
He shook off his dark thoughts and said, “No, I think you’re right.” He forced a smile. “It’ll be fun.”
The concern deepened into outright worry. “Is there something―”
“Look, food’s here.” He pushed his water glass out of the way and made space for the dishes. He could feel Charlie’s gaze on him as the waitress put the steaming pot pies in front of them but he didn’t look up. It wasn’t really fair to her to bring his work home with him. They had enough to do with the wedding just two days away.
Charlie didn’t push the issue and he was thankful when she picked up her fork instead. He’d explain soon enough. Then again, maybe Perry would turn up and he wouldn’t have to tell Charlie that he’d failed one of the most vulnerable kids he’d ever met.
***
Rem did his best to look as if everything was hunky dory as the fast-moving conversation in By the Book flowed on without him. He’d hurt Flannery without any explanation and it must have seemed like a surprise attack to her, out of the blue. It was one thing to joke about annoying habits, and quite another to air them in front of everyone.
Now a wedge of anger had forced itself between them. It showed in the way she was half-turned from him, focusing on Bix and Alice and the baby, as if he was already gone from the room.
How had it come to this? He knew how, but his mind shied away from the truth. His world had been upended, everything was off-kilter. It had been coming on for a long time, like the overhanging snow he’d see on his apartment roof in Boston. As the sun came out and the temperature rose, it would slide by centimeters down, down, down until it hung precariously over the edge, waiting for just the right vibration or one more degree of warmth. He’d be at his desk and hear a crack, then a long sliding whoosh as the snow was set free from its perch. Then there was a short silence until the dull thump as it landed on the ground.
His feelings for Flannery had been inching toward the edge for months, and her taking the apartment next to his was the tipping point. But instead of sitting safely at his desk and watching the snow hit the ground far below, Rem was standing below, looking up as the wreckage of their friendship came speeding toward him.
Rem glanced at Flannery, letting himself take in the curve of her cheek, the line of her jaw, the arch of her brow. He had never realized how much he loved looking at her, and that was going to be the first impulse he curbed. He’d keep her at a distance, at a point where she couldn’t see what was going on in his head and his heart. As soon as he got some space, he would try to go right back to being friends. Easy, comfortable friendship. The way it had always been before everything got so complicated.
***
Flannery listened to Alice describe the apartment features and made appropriate sounds of approval. She tried to look disappointed when Alice said the internet was slow, the hot water heater only held a few gallons, and the kitchen was impossibly small, but she really didn’t care. Flannery wasn’t the kind of person who preferred newness over charm. Besides, her mind was still back on Rem’s cruel outburst. Maybe he was under a lot of stress at the university. Or maybe it was the gaps in information that he kept running up against. Whatever it was, he’d taken it out on her and she was reeling.
“Flannery?”
A young man paused just inside the doorway. He removed his black cowboy hat and walked toward them, a bright smile spreading over his face. She’d always suspected Justin Foshee had had a crush on her in high school, but she’d told Rem that Justin seemed about ten years old to her. Not very nice, now that she thought about it.
Justin didn’t look like a kid anymore. The rosy red cheeks and high-water pants were gone, he’d grown a chin and about six inches in height, and sported a fine beard. It wasn’t a scraggly one, either, like he’d simply been too lazy to shave for a week. It was groomed, tidy. The warm brown eyes were the same but otherwise, everything about him seemed polished and mature.
“Justin?” It was a silly question but she felt the need to make sure.
“That’s me,” he said, laughing. His voice was deep and resonant.
Rem held out a hand and the two men shook. Bix nodded in his direction and Justin reached out, touching the old man’s arm and guiding Bix’s hand to his.
Alice smiled at him. “Good to see you again, Justin,” she said.
“You, too. Are you back for Christmas?” he said, looking at Flannery.
She noted that he hadn’t asked about Rem. Maybe he already knew he was in Natchitoches only for a semester.
“I just moved back. I’m the new director of the Natchitoches Parish Library. What about you?” she asked. To her utter embarrassment, her voice cracked on the last syllable. She felt her cheeks go warm and hoped no one had heard the squeak. Really, Justin wasn’t that good-looking. He was definitely double-take worthy, but nothing to lose her composure over. She was simply surprised at the change from awkward high school kid to full-grown man.
“I guess there’s somethin’ in the water,” he said with a smile. “I’m back for good. Took a job teaching English lit at St. Mary’s High School. I’m in the middle of grading fifty papers on the symbolism found in Through the Looking-Glass.” He grimaced. “I decided I needed a break, for my sake and the kids’ grades.”
“Oh,” Flannery said and even though she tried to sound causally interested, the sound had come out as if she’d had a revelation. More surprises, that was all. Through the Looking-Glass was one of her favorite books. If Flannery had been the suspicious type, she would have thought Justin already knew that and had trotted out the title just to be impressive. But it was just a coincidence. There was no way Justin could have known. Only Rem knew things like that. He could name her top twenty favorite books of the top of his head, and then name the top twenty in each genre.
Alice cleared her throat. “I ran into your mama the other day at the Piggly Wiggly. She’s real proud of you. I bet the kids love your classes, too.” She rocked Emily Jane for a moment. “Are you here to pick out something specific?”
Flannery wondered if Alice didn’t like Justin. There was something in her tone that seemed a little too polite.
“Yes, ma’am. I had a hankering for Jack London. Not sure why. Maybe too much Lewis Carroll.”
“Can there ever be too much Lewis Carroll?” Flannery asked, trying to laugh it off. The man just maligned one of her favorite authors. He wasn’t looking so handsome now.
“No, surely not. It’s probably the weather,” Justin said quickly. “I always need something exciting to read when it’s pouring rain.”
“Got that right,” said Bix. “And this is some good weather for readin’ Jack London. I’ll show ya where he is.” He motioned for Justin to follow him and started toward the shelves.
“Oh, well I―” Justin looked at Flannery and seemed to come to a decision. “We should go have coffee sometime. Catch up.”
“Right this way, son,” Bix called as he crossed the gleaming checkerboard foyer.
“We’ve got quite a collection of Jack London,” Alice said. �
�Call of the Wild, The Sea-Wolf…” She motioned toward Bix. “He can’t see that you’re not following him. You’d better go.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Justin took a few steps in that direction but he was clearly waiting for Flannery’s response.
She hated coffee dates. In fact, she wasn’t really a person who liked dates at all. They were awkward and stressful. She’d spend hours picking out something to wear, sit through a few stilted hours of conversations, and then have to field questions from all her friends and family.
Flannery hesitated a little too long and Justin said, “What do you say? Just a cup of coffee. For old times’ sake.”
Rem made a soft sound in his throat. Flannery decided in that moment that she’d really like to go on a coffee date with a handsome Creole boy who clearly found her intriguing. She needed more people in her life like Justin. He saw the Flannery of today, not twenty years of pratfalls and stupid choices. Maybe Rem couldn’t imagine someone wanting to take her out on a date, but it did happen. Maybe not regularly, but it happened.
“That sounds great,” she said with a big smile. “I’d love to.”
“Right over here,” Bix called.
“I’ll call you, then.” He was walking backwards now, trying to finish their conversation and still make progress toward Bix.
“Bye,” Flannery said. Justin wasn’t playing it cool. Everyone in a thirty foot radius knew that they were going on a date. She wasn’t used to being the center of attention and it felt strangely satisfying.
“Well, now, about that apartment,” Alice said, clearly trying to get the conversation back on track.
“Rem doesn’t want me to move in,” she said.
Flannery felt vindicated at the shocked silence. No Southern gentleman would tell a woman he didn’t want her as a neighbor. It was the opposite of being hospitable. To hear it coming from a friend was downright rude.
“He says I’d be a bad roommate and I’d better look elsewhere.” Flannery lifted her chin and waited for his defense.
If she had a choice, she’d simply not move into the apartment, but she’d already given notice on the little place she’d rented. Her landlady had told her this morning that she’d found another tenant and wanted to be sure she was out in time. Flannery simply hadn’t considered any other possibility.
His mortified expression caused a twinge of regret in her, but she quickly pushed it away. Rem had started it all. If he didn’t want her to call him out in front of everyone, then he should have thought it over before saying what he did. The worst part about it wasn’t what he’d said, but what he hadn’t.
Rem, the person who hadn’t minded bunking with her on sweltering camping trips or slogging through frog gigging excursions or driving to New York in an old two-door car with three cats, couldn’t bring himself to live next door to her. Did he think she was going to blare loud music or hog the hot water? More likely he thought she would be knocking on his door every five minutes, wanting to hang out.
A flood of shame went through her at how accurate his fears had been. She’d assumed they’d have movie nights with popcorn and Saturdays mornings cooking waffles and maybe even share the paper. There had even been the hope of a road trip to New Orleans to hear the bands or maybe even a weekend in Holly Beach when it got warm enough. He was busy researching and teaching, but they’d spent countless afternoons reading silently together. Flannery hadn’t considered that any part of Rem’s life would be off limits to her. It never had been before. But something had changed in their friendship and she hadn’t noticed until she’d assumed too much.
“Well?” Flannery prompted.
Rem seemed to be struggling to find an answer. Those brown eyes she loved were filled with confusion.
Flannery couldn’t hold her glare and dropped her gaze. She couldn’t really blame Rem. Too much time Skyping, emailing and texting can do that to a friendship. It was hard to really connect when you weren’t in the same room. And now that they were, she had to face the truth. She wasn’t first for Rem anymore. She might not even be second. She was somewhere lower, somewhere around annoying little sister who wouldn’t leave him alone. The knowledge hurt more than she could have ever imagined it would.
Chapter Seven
“A friend is someone who knows all about you and still loves you.”
― Elbert Hubbard
Rose Chalfant gently pulled the little T-shirt over Elizabeth Olivier’s curly hair and guided one chubby hand after the other into the soft flannel sleeves. Paul and Alice had spent a small fortune converting the top floor of By the Book, but the building was over a century old. Drafts happened, and even in Natchitoches, chilly Decembers sucked the warmth right out of a little baby.
Rose glanced out the window at the pouring rain and shivered. She’d thought postponing their honeymoon to the spring was a good idea but now she wished they’d gone ahead and taken several weeks in a sunny climate. Blue said he’d heard rumors of a white Christmas and although Rose knew her husband was thrilled at the idea, she herself hoped it was only the weatherman’s wishful thinking. Then again, anything that gave them a break from the incessant rain would be welcome, even if it brought the city to a halt.
Rose kept one hand on her little charge as she reached for the soft pair of leggings that went with the baby’s shirt. The baby always seemed like she ran a little colder than her twin. With a practiced motion, Rose slipped on the tiny leggings and selected a pair of socks from the little bin at the end of the changing table. After a moment’s hesitation, she also chose a soft merino wool sweater with embroidered roses. At six months, Elizabeth had already spent the first three months of her life crying and now that the colic had faded, Rose wanted to keep her as comfortable as possible. The poor baby had already suffered enough. They all had.
Rose lifted the baby from the changing table and went to stand by the window. The river was an ugly brown, flowing swiftly and high along the bank. That summer, Rose’s view from the downstairs apartment had been of green grass and sparkling water. The apartments on the second floor had beautifully carved fireplaces shipped from France and mahogany wood trim around every window. The floor-to-ceiling windows looked out on the river and in the afternoons, the sunlight reflected off the water into the living spaces. Built-in bookshelves, sixteen foot high ceilings, and cozy bedrooms made the apartments some of the most charming living quarters in the city. But even those who had studied the history of By the Book and knew about the Creole bricklayers and designers who had created such a work of art had to admit that there were drawbacks to preserving history, and for Rose, those drawbacks came in the form of tiny fridges, cramped bathrooms, and galley kitchens.
The upper floor had been storage for decades and horribly neglected, but still retained the charm and craftsmanship of the rest of the building. Paul and Alice had the floors refinished, exposed brick walls washed and scrubbed, light fixtures repaired, and the ceiling tiles buffed to a shine. They’d added a few walls to create more bedrooms and gave the play area some soundproofing, but there weren’t very many structural changes to what it had been for the past hundred years. Now, with the comfortable furniture, a large kitchen, soft area rugs, and modern bathrooms, Rose couldn’t think of a better place to start her married life with Blue. He’d wanted to move to their own house in the country but she’d convinced him that it would be easier on everybody if they moved upstairs for the time being. He worked in the building right next door, and she helped care for the babies during the day. They spent every spare moment together. Life was nearly perfect.
Rose stared out the window at the pouring rain as Elizabeth made small, unhappy sounds. Nearly perfect. She shouldn’t ask for more. It was greedy, really. Alice and Paul had given her a new start, and falling in love with Blue was more than she could ever have dreamed of after losing her place in a top law firm and getting dumped by her fiancée. And yet, as much as she hated herself for being unhappy, there was a part of her that needed something more.
&
nbsp; Not that she minded caring for the twins and Aurora. Rose loved it more than she’d loved her time as a lawyer, and she’d definitely lived and breathed working as a defense attorney. As she patted Elizabeth’s back, Rose felt the slightest twinge of unease. Of course she couldn’t go back. She’d been disbarred. There was no way to repair her career. Blue’s law practice was going strong despite being disowned by his powerful father, and if she attempted to get involved, it might cause more trouble for them both. But that faint tremor of― what was it? dissatisfaction? ― vibrated under everything she did, no matter how much she tried to convince herself she was perfectly content just watching Alice and Paul’s children.
A little voice caught her ear and Rose glanced over at where Aurora was working on her newest project. Andy McBride had given the toddler a miniature electrical switch board with moveable pieces and she was building a simple buzzer. It had gone off a dozen times in the last five minutes. Andy was Aurora’s godfather and he was determined that she have all the science games her heart desired, but perhaps he could have found a tech toy that didn’t sound so much like a car alarm.
Elizabeth let out a cry and Rose switched her to facing out, hoping the light from the window would make her happy. Elizabeth stuffed on fist into her mouth and gummed the edge of the sleeve, her little brow wrinkling at the lack of flavor.
“Manj pa ça, sha, mamzelle.” Rose pried the chubby fist from the baby’s mouth and rolled up her now-damp sleeve. Don’t eat that, Miss.
“Arèt ça,” Aurora said for good measure. She was almost three and really enjoyed telling her baby sisters to stop doing whatever it was they were doing. Rose noticed that Aurora used a tone that was far bossier than anyone used on Aurora herself.
Rose rocked Elizabeth an started to sing a Louisiana Creole lullaby very softly, hoping to soothe her. “Le soleil s’est couché , mon couer se cassé, le soleil s’est couché sur moi.” Alice preferred her children hear the language of their Cane River people and Rose was thrilled to speak so much of her native language. Rose hoped to raise her own children the same way, but she knew it would be an uphill battle. Although Louisiana Creole was making a comeback, she knew how hard it would be to raise fluent speakers in a modern Natchitoches.
Until Winter Comes Again: (An Inspirational Contemporary Romance) (Cane River Romance Book 6) Page 6