Putty in Her Hands

by Lynn Shurr

  “Accidental brush fires are down fifty percent, the fire chief says. That saves the taxpayer money—and the air is cleaner,” Jane answered, not willing to be ignored. “I wish I could have gotten the council to ban burning off the cane stubble in the fall too.”

  Blackie Tauzin clamped a firm hand on her shoulder. “Not going to happen with all the influence the cane farmers have. Take your victories where you can, babe. Now, let the other women have their say.”

  “You should put a hand over her mouth,” Slick suggested with an angry glance at Jane.

  “Oh, she’d just bite me.”

  Slick reconsidered Jane, not the flashiest woman he’d ever seen, and everyone knew he loved flashy. “I do like me a woman with spirit.”

  “You’d have to fight me for her.” Having no idea what role Miss Lolly planned to play, Merlin redirected the conversation to Julia. “I believe Ms. Rossi has some important information you need to hear.”

  “Ah, yes, I see you started with coffee and haven’t gotten to this part yet,” Julia said.

  Miss Lolly moved glacially but steadily toward Old Broussard who pushed his bulk up by the thick arms of his special chair to honor her presence. “Slick, get my favorite teacher a chair. Pour her some coffee.” After a moment, he sank into his seat like a heap of lava hardening into place.

  The large pot sat on the table, no NuNu in sight to pour. Slick obeyed and moved the sugar and milk closer if she desired any.

  All tucked in, Lolly said, “Why, thank you, Arnault. You were one of my favorite students too. Let’s hear what Julia has to say.”

  Jules went to stand beside Remy, almost touching elbows with him. “It’s come to our attention that you own the land where the Indian mounds sit and lease it for sugar cane farming to the Patin family.”

  Old Broussard heaved the fat of his shoulders. “Yeah, so, been knowing dem for years. Da Broussards bought dat field during da Depression when lotsa land went up for sale.” He turned a hostile, piggy gaze on Jane. “Dis gonna be some kind of trouble with da Chitimacha tribe wanting their sacred land back? Dat why you here?”

  Jane, leaning comfortably against her husband since they hadn’t been offered a place at the table, shook her head. “Not that I know of—but I believe those mounds precede their occupation in the area.”

  “Good, I didn’t never let nobody dig in dose hills ’cause maybe we have some Injun blood in the family way back from when da Cajuns first come here.”

  “We plan to honor that in the new Black Diamonds development,” Julia rushed to say. “Remy is the artist, but I took the liberty of sketching in the layout of the site. I am aware he wanted his buildings to reflect in the bayou, or in this case the lake. Instead of one long mass of buildings, we’ve split them in two to be built on either side of the mounds with a tower on each end. On the roadside, the planned gardens, pool, clubhouse—and a small museum at the base of the mounds to explain your heritage to visitors.” Grateful he hadn’t dressed up for this meeting, she grabbed a carpenter’s pencil from Remy’s hip pocket and added a new square to the plat. “There, the museum. If we can get permission from Jonathan Hartz, a dock and boat launch might be added to give access to the lake. I can envision the clientele of this project fishing and bird watching. Both hobbies have his approval.” She paused to take in some air.

  Jane chipped in by saying, “Once the crop is in, we could do an environmental impact study and get some salvage archaeologists from the university to search the base of the mounds for artifacts. They could also use ground penetrating radar to look inside without disturbing them.”

  “Probably hold up the project for years,” Slick complained.

  Miss Lolly jumped right over his protest. “Isn’t that exciting, Arnault?—how they can use technology to search without destroying.” She squeezed the obese arm of her former student.

  “Gimme a looksee.” Old Broussard seized the plat and shared it reverently with his teacher. “I like dis, me. Why you don’t come right out and show me dese plans, Remy? On doit pas se plainer avec le ventre plein.”

  “That’s translates as don’t complain on a full stomach. I have some Cajun in my background just as you have Native American. My grandfather spoke nothing but French. You are supposed to use the term Native American now, Arnault, not Injun,” Miss Lolly directed, ever the instructor.

  Remy, his face dark, said, “Neither project can go ahead while we are concerned with safety. I don’t see NuNu lurking around today. Where was he on Saturday night?”

  “Not here. We caught him doing crystal meth. You know how the old man feels about that shit. Give him two weeks’ notice, but he came in next day and said he got a regular job better than flippin’ burgers, and we could just fuck off,” Slick said. “Sorry for the language, Miss Lolly.”

  “Where?”

  “Don’t know.”

  “I told him las’ time you come here to let t’ings be, but dat boy, he tetu.” Old Broussard knocked a pudgy fist against his head.

  “Hardheaded,” Miss Lolly said. “But you are not, Arnault. I failed to teach you good English, but oh, how you shone in mathematics. No wonder you’ve made such a big success of the Barn, better than in your grandfather’s day when I sometimes shook a leg out here. You should grasp this new opportunity.”

  “Your investment money is still in the bank. I told Slick to pass that along to you. Not a cent is going into the Queen.”

  “He tole me, Remy.” Old Broussard stroked his bristly multiple chins.

  “I also recall your keen interest in history. That explains why you kept those mounds safe from destruction. Perhaps you’d like to contribute to the restoration of the Queen. I am sure Remy would place your name on one of the rooms.” Miss Lolly maundered on as if this idea just occurred to her.

  Julia held her breath. Truly, she didn’t want her beautiful ballroom to be named for the graceless Arnault Broussard. Remy came up with an immediate and better idea.

  “We have a magnificent mahogany bar we’re having refurbished off-site, and we’re rebuilding a modern kitchen. How does Broussard’s Bar and Eatery sound to you?”

  “Too many Broussards around here. How about T-Fat’s Bar and Restaurant? Me, I could kick in for fixin’ up dat bar.”

  “Oh, but Arnault, you shouldn’t call yourself that. It is degrading,” Miss Lolly said.

  “Miss Lolly, you about da only one who remembers my given name is Arnault. And look, me, I’m fat.” Old Broussard flapped his flesh-heavy arms. “It ain’t no insult now. I’m as famous around here as Fats Domino. Dat name never did him no harm.”

  Remy proposed the compromise. “T-Fats’ Bar and Arnault’s Eatery.”

  “Bon. Shake on it now, but gimme some papers soon. I got to tell the Patins dere’s another sugar cane field gone. They ain’t gonna like it, but too bad.” He summoned Remy forward and engulfed his hand.

  “It’s a deal, Nonc.”

  “All you, sit down. Have some coffee before you go. Slick, you talk to your boy again when you find him. Say Old Broussard wants the Queen left alone—and dis lady here with da big plans.” He gestured to Julia to sit on his left. “See if we got any cookies in da kitchen too.”

  No cookies, but Slick returned with a pecan pie—one of the few desserts the Barn offered besides ice cream and bread pudding. With a fist full of forks, a knife, and a stack of plates crowded onto a tray, he muttered about his no-good son NuNu as he set the places. Old Broussard sent him back for a container of vanilla ice cream to top the pie all around. Julia ate her portion with gusto. She’d work it off today and with a clear mind—the Queen saved, and Black Diamonds being built. Both problems solved.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Back in the parking lot, Miss Lolly allowed Merlin to lift her into the cab of Julia’s truck. He spun her around once before seating her. “Great job in there,” he said in that basso voice of his.

  “I knew I could be of assistance. Inside that grossly overweight body is a g
ood man with a fine brain, a man who can see reason.”

  Remy had the broken ribs to doubt that, but he kept quiet as Tauzin put his hands around Jane’s waist, gave her a spin, and lofted her into his immense truck painted a custom electric blue that matched his eyes. He drove a double cab to accommodate his boys, but it was still a mean machine.

  Jane leaned out the window. “Always gives me a thrill when he does that. Julia, wonderful work. I can’t wait to tell Celine and Jon. So glad I came along.”

  “You did the research. I can’t thank you and Miss Lolly enough.” Julia waved as their vehicle ground up the oyster shells on the lot and left.

  Remy held the door of the Regal Restorations truck open for Jules. “Want me to twirl you around and lift you into the driver’s seat?”

  “Don’t you dare.”

  “Oh, my dear, you should never turn down the opportunity to let a man be a man, especially tall, dark handsome men,” Miss Lolly commented, having gotten her own thrill from Merlin. That explained her lack of protest.

  Regardless, Julia seated herself. “I’ll see you back at the Queen.”

  “It’s half past eleven. Meet me at the Black Box for an early lunch.” From the light in Julia’s blue eyes, he could tell she thought that was a euphemism for celebratory sex. Not what he had in mind.

  “After that pie, I don’t have much of an appetite—for food. But I’ll be right behind you.”

  Remy noticed she ran a yellow light to keep that promise. He didn’t bother to help her down from the truck, but held the door into the Box for her. She laid the sheaf of papers with the property’s details and the crude sketch she’d drawn on his desk, anchored it with the new ballerina she’d brought back from New Orleans, and sailed into his arms.

  “We need to talk,” he said.

  Jules took a step back. The light in her eyes faded. Her expression became one that Remy imagined he wore when women broke up with him, but he’d never cared for any of them like he did for Julia.

  “Aren’t you pleased with today’s results? Both our projects are moving forward.”

  “Jules, you took my dream and changed it without consulting me. You must have come up with this idea when we were standing on top of the mound before the trash fire—yet not one word. I stood there like a fool today letting you do all the talking because I had no idea what was going on. I went to the Barn to make certain you and Queen were safe, not to let you outshine me in every way. As Miss Lolly said, sometimes you have to let a man be a man.”

  “It wasn’t my intention to take over the meeting. I had to wait until Jane verified who owned the property. If the Patins held it, no sense moving forward with the idea. Only another disappointment for you.”

  Remy placed his hands on her shoulders and looked into her eyes. “When did Jane bring the papers to you? I suspect it was yesterday when you foisted the old ladies off on me for a tour.”

  She stared down at the toes of her work boots. “I didn’t know if Jane had good or bad news and didn’t want you to hear.”

  “What about last night? You couldn’t have told me then, brought me in on your plans, let me do some proper sketches to show the old man?”

  Julia raised her eyes. “You don’t like my layout. I’m no architect. That’s your job. Now that we have the land, you can build Black Diamonds any way you want out by the lake.”

  “I think you are a little too used to being the boss.”

  He didn’t expect the hard shove to his chest that backed him up against the desk. “I wanted to restore your dream, surprise you with the gift of Black Diamonds, the project you gave up for me. Being the boss had nothing to do with it. I thought we worked well in tandem at the Queen, so well that Black Diamonds could be our project too, not only yours. Sorry for my stupid mistake. I’ll keep my hands off!”

  Remy thought she’d finished, sure if she had a beignet handy, she would grind it into his face right now. How wrong he was. Blue lightning struck from her eyes.

  “You didn’t tell me you took that beating to protect me, not simply to square things with the Broussards. I had to overhear it when I walked into the room today. Do you know how hard it was to move forward, to speak calmly after that? It’s fine for you to sacrifice for me, but I’m not allowed to give anything back?”

  “Jules, you still aren’t safe. Weren’t you listening? The old man and Slick have lost control of NuNu. They won’t bother you, but he might.”

  “Then, I’ll have to look out for myself and guard the Queen too.” Jules checked her watch. “You’re the boss on this project, and I’m still on the clock. I need to get back to work as soon as I pack my stuff.” She turned and mounted his metal staircase, the one he’d never fallen down. She made the steps ring as she rounded the second floor and headed for the third. He rushed after her, setting up his own clamor in the stairwell.

  Remy took the stairs two at a time and still didn’t arrive in time to prevent her from flinging her clothes into bags and sweeping her cosmetics from her side of the sink. Rage packing.

  “I knew this wouldn’t work.” The words Remy most dreaded hearing from her lips.

  “You aren’t giving us a real chance. We hit our first bump in the road. Are you going to let that send us both into a ditch?”

  “I have to rethink this.”

  “Where? How?”

  “Going to stay in the motorhome for a while. The uncles will look out for me if I need looking after at all, and we’ll watch over the Queen day and night.”

  At least, she wasn’t returning to New Orleans where Todd waited ready to console her, he’d bet his life. Maybe the guy wasn’t trying to harm the project, but he sure as hell had fallen in love with Jules. Remy understood how that could happen all too well. He needed to fix this. He eyed the bed and held out his arms.

  “Not now, Remy.” Julia hefted her bags and started down the staircase. He didn’t dare offer to help.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Remy gave Jules an hour to simmer down—always wise, he figured. Then while making a sandwich and coffee he didn’t really want, he fretted that she’d think he lacked passion because he hadn’t followed her immediately to duke it out. Yeah, he’d been to Italy and witnessed some really public shouting matches between lovers both in person and over cell phones. Remy, the ever cool one, didn’t think he had that in him, not on a job site and not at home. Were they really compatible? He had to hope opposites attracted.

  Back at the Queen, he searched the site for Jules, but found only her uncles working on crack repairs in the lobby walls. An impressive scaffold like some kind of complicated jungle gym reaching much higher than the one in the ballroom filled the center of the vast space. He approached Sal setting up a patch for a wider area. “Have you seen Julia?”

  “You better believe we have. She threw her stuff in the motorhome and put clean sheets on the overhead bunk. What did you do to piss her off?”

  He couldn’t truthfully answer nothing—but a complicated issue like this wasn’t meant to be shared. When Remy failed to answer, Sam said, “Yeah, Julies is pretty even tempered most of the time, but when she blows up, it’s big.” He cupped his lips and shouted, “Fire in the hole!”

  “You do realize I can hear every word you say up here. This dome is like an echo chamber.” Julia rolled to the side of platform where she’d been lying on her back taking pictures of the fruit and flowers plaster medallion in the ceiling and peered over the edge.

  Remy moved toward the scaffold. “Do you have your lifeline attached?”

  “I will when I stand up to start the cleaning.” She shoved herself upright. A whiskbroom in her hand fell free.

  Remy jumped back. If it had hit him, not much damage would have been done, not as much as say one of her pointed metal finishing trowels plummeting toward the floor. He couldn’t help but remember how she’d handled the crowbar and hammer when he came across her trespassing, how magnificently unafraid she was. That time, he’d held a shotgun. This seemed
like a similar standoff. She had the height to her advantage.

  “You need to put up some nets if you keep dropping things,” Remy shouted.

  “Not like Jules to be so clumsy,” Sal remarked.

  “Sorry. I usually have Todd to pick things up. Put it in the bucket. I’ll hoist it.” Julia’s voice reverberated in the dome.

  She sure knew how to push his buttons. If this was a test, Remy planned to pass with high grades. “I’ll bring it to you.”

  If it wasn’t, for certain she couldn’t run out on him again. While he didn’t fear heights, Remy preferred the solidity of a bucket truck when he did inspections that many feet off the ground. Regardless, he placed a foot on the built-in ladder and scaled it to the top.

  “Oh-ho, look at him go,” Sammy shouted, thoroughly enjoying the spectacle.

  Jules sat cross-legged waiting. Remy ducked under the guardrail. He cocked his hardhat back and squatted in front of her. “Your whiskbroom.” He offered it to her as if holding a dozen American Beauty roses bouquet.

  She accepted it like it was—only a whiskbroom. “Thanks. You can leave now. If you stay here, better get your lifeline on.”

  “You are my lifeline, my partner in this and all projects to come.” He put the warmth of hot lime into his words.

  Far below, one of the uncles said, “Aww, ain’t that sweet?”

  Julia remained unimpressed. “Very romantic. Todd’s line is hooked on right over there. Use it.”

  “You brought Todd up here?”

  “In the ballroom. I wanted to show him some things—and don’t even let your mind go there. What is your problem with the guy?’

  “I told you. It’s all the time you spend with him—and the absolute fact that he is in love with you. I know that feeling well.” He would have said, “I love you too” if the uncles hadn’t been eavesdropping.

  “I’d describe it more as admiration, hero worship if I were a man. I sent Todd away to keep the peace. Regardless, I’ll be seeing him tomorrow. Some of the casts for the ballroom ceiling are finished. I need to take a look and bring a few back to see how they fit.”