Restoring Hope

by Smith, C. P.

  “Then I’ll get a loan and buy my own car,” Hope retorted her hands on her hips trying to convey just how serious she was in this matter. He was not buying her a car.

  “I can’t believe I let you use sex to get your way,” Hope complained the whole way from the Jeep dealership.

  “A man’s gotta do what he’s gotta do to get his woman to toe the line,” Nic chuckled and then grinned as he took a right on Frenchman’s street heading towards The Bayou.

  They were currently in Hope’s new, all white, and loaded to the max Jeep Wrangler Sahara—with leather seats and tow package of course, Nic had insisted.

  Hope had made the mistake of A.) Challenging the man and B.) Expressing her love of all things Jeep when she’d said she would buy her own car. Two hours and multiple orgasms later, Nic had coerced her into letting him buy her a car.

  “You’ve been holding out on me, by the way,” Hope complained.

  “Sugar, in the game of life a man’s gotta have a few tricks up his sleeves.”

  “Interesting, so if I wanted to get my way then all I’d have to do is show you how flexible I am?”

  “Flexible?”

  “Very, very flexible,” Hope breathed out like a 1-800 phone sex operator and then finished with “I’ve been studying yoga for ten years to deal with stress, sugar . . . Does downward dog mean anything to you?”

  Nic’s grin fell and his eyes heated, “That just earned you a cell phone,” he bit out as he pulled into the employee parking lot and parked.

  “Wait that wasn’t supposed to happen,” Hope cried out.

  “Then you shouldn’t have mentioned the positions I can get you in,” Nic chuckled as he grabbed her neck and pulled her to his mouth, “Downward dog tonight, sugar.”

  “I’ve got a big mouth,” Hope sighed.

  “And you use it well.”

  “Don’t be crass.”

  “Don’t be cute,” Nic mumbled and then kissed her before letting her go and exiting the Jeep.

  Hope got out, slammed the door, and looked at her all white, to die for Jeep and grinned.

  “See ya, snowflake.”

  “Jesus, you named your Jeep?” Nic laughed as he hooked his arm around Hope’s neck and walked her to the back of the bar while pocketing her keys. Hope watched the keys disappear and frowned.

  “Are you ever gonna let me drive her?”

  “Tomorrow, after you’ve earned it yoga master,” Nic grinned and then opened the door and walked her in while she stared daggers at him.

  Before heading to the front of the bar, Nic kissed her sweetly, ran his nose down the side of her own and then whispered, “Make me something fiery, angel, just like you.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  The honeymoon period is beautiful to watch, Rose thought as her eyes followed Hope as she brought a meal to Nic at the bar. It had been more than two weeks since she’d jumped from that train and every day they grew closer and closer. The shadows they both carried in their eyes seemed almost gone, and the playfulness between them made Rose’s heart swell with happiness. She’d come to love Hope like a daughter and Nic was already like her son. She’d never met two people who deserved to be happy and in love more than those two.

  She knew there would be good times and bad times, you don’t go through what they had and come out unscathed. But, Nic was a strong man, and he could bear Hope’s troubles easily on his shoulders. Hope, she had come to find out, was tough as nails. Abused, scared to leave, lost her baby and had to sleep next to a man she despised. There weren’t many women who could bear that and not be irrevocably damaged, yet in her own way, Rose knew that she was. But, Hope was made of sterner stuff, had adapted the best she could to what life threw at her, and managed to survive with a good sense of self still within her. She figured there would be days that it would sneak up on Hope. Seeing a little boy playing or when a man raised his voice, but our life experiences make us who we are, mold us, shape our perspective and since you can't run from your past, you move forward. The key to overcoming past tragedies is to move on with your life, be productive, live life to the fullest, not bury yourself in the pain. What better way to thumb your nose at someone who tried to destroy you than to say, “Look at me, I’m still standing,” and Hope was doing just that!

  She confided in Rose, told her she still felt guilty for her son’s death, but placed the blame for the rest where it belonged, square on the shoulders of her dead husband. She’d told Nic the ugly details of her husband’s death, and he’d shared the emotional moment when he’d seen his daughter laid out on the table in the morgue. Talking about your pain with someone who knows how it feels is the first step in healing, and who better to share it with than someone you love and can understand, she figured.

  Rose looked around the bar, saw they had a light crowd and since she was so happy at that moment for her friends, decided they needed an impromptu party to celebrate love conquering all.

  “Big Daddy!” Rose shouted through the kitchen pass-thru.

  “Comin’ old woman, where da’ fire?”

  When he reached the window, Rose smiled, and hooted, “Grab your scrub-board it Zydeco time.”

  Big Daddy hooted back and turned to Roscoe, Rose’s husband, who’d made an uncommon appearance at the bar and shouted, “Rosie in da’ mood for a partay,’ grab your accordion old man and let’s rock da’ house.”

  “Well, all right,” Roscoe agreed and moved to Rose’s office where she kept one of his piano-accordions for just such emergencies.

  Rose turned around smiling after watching the two men get their instruments and shouted, “Time to get to da’ ass shakin,’ Abby, move dem’ tables and make Maman a dance floor.”

  Hoots and hollers could be heard around the bar as Abby and the other waitresses began moving customers to booths and stacking the tables in the corner. Big Daddy and Roscoe came out and stood at the wall while Rose pulled out her harmonica and blew it.

  “Listen to Maman y’all,” Rose shouted, “Dis’ here a celebration of life. We can no change da’ past, but we sure as hell can enjoy da’ ‘futcha. Laissez le bon temps rouler, let’s bring dis’ house down, yes?”

  Roscoe squeezed the piano accordion in and out, as his fingers flew across keyboard. Big Daddy ran a spoon down the front of his scrub-board keeping the beat with Roscoe, as Rose blew her heart out on the harmonica.

  Hope, still standing at the bar watching all this play out, started laughing at the sight before her. Customer's jumped up, swinging to the beat of Zydeco La Louisianne as others hooted and clapped to the beat. Nic stood, reached across, lifted Hope over the bar, and led her to the dance floor as the song played loud.

  Swinging Hope out and then back to him Nic showed her how to do the two-step again as Rose watched and figured God was smiling down on the sight.

  They played “Ma Tit Fille” “Parley-nous a boire” and “Zydeco Gris-Gris” all while Nic kept Hope close as he led her around the dance floor.

  After an hour or more of dancing, the trio of musicians called it an evening, but turned on the overhead music keeping the atmosphere alive and everyone dancing. Rose and Roscoe moved to the bar, popped open a bottle of beer, and then touched their bottles together as they watched Nic and Hope sway to a slower Cajun song.

  “Rosie, you done good. Those two remind me of you and me not too long ago,” Roscoe told his wife and then he kissed her cheek.

  “What you mean remind you of not too long ago?” Rose asked raising her eyebrows.

  “All right, woman, I only meant—“

  “Roscoe, you love me and you know you do.”

  Roscoe grabbed his wife by the hips and pulled her into him nuzzling her neck. “My Rosie is the love of my life, my sunshine, my Mississippi Queen,” he murmured in her ear, and not for the first time in their forty plus years together, Rose shivered at his touch.

  Rose wrapped her arms around her husband, laid her head on his chest, and listened to the sound of his heartbeat. She l
oved Roscoe fiercely, and when he touched her, he made her feel twenty again. As she stood there in the warmth of his embrace, her eyes moved to the window, and she stiffened when she caught sight of Kat standing in the window, watching Nic and Hope as fury sparked in her eyes. Rose pulled back from Roscoe and looked in Nic’s direction. When his eyes landed on hers, she jerked her head towards the window. Nic’s face showed confusion until he looked and saw Kat for himself. She didn’t move from the window when he caught her staring, didn’t even try to hide the contempt she had while watching Nic and Hope dance. Nic grabbed Hope’s hand and led her off the dance floor taking her to Rose and Roscoe.

  “Stay here,” Nic ordered and Hope watched confused as he walked to the door, wondering where he was going until she saw Kat in the window, both arms crossed under her large breasts looking like she could spit nails.

  Rose kept a hand on her shoulder and tightened it when she felt Hope try to move towards the door. Nic looked back at her as he opened the door and shook his head when he saw the look on her face. Rolling her eyes at him, he bit his lips together to keep from laughing at her expression and then slowly shook his head again. Nic wondered if she’d ever fuckin’ listen to him without some sort of argument, verbal or non-verbal. Sighing, ‘cause he was pretty sure the answer to that was no, he decided right then he didn’t care, she was so fuckin cute when riled up he’d let it slide.

  Back to the matter at hand, getting rid of Kat, he pushed through the door and met her on the sidewalk.

  “You need something?”

  “You bought that tramp a car?” Kat hissed.

  Nic sucked air through his nose and tried to censure his reaction. When she got a bug up her ass, like now, nothin’ he said got through so he bit out, “Watch your mouth.”

  “I can’t believe you’re letting that slut play you like this. She’s only after your money, sugar, you need to wake up and see her for who she truly is,” Kat shouted.

  “I’m giving you fair warning, Kat, watch what you say or I’m done.” Nic growled low.

  Kat moved forward and put her hands to his face, trying to reach him like she used to when they were married. Nic’s head jerked back and then he stepped back, not wanting her hands on him in any way.

  “Baby, please,” Kat begged, “Forget this woman and come back to me and Nicky, we need you.”

  “Nicky has me, always. But I’d sooner die than let Hope go.”

  “You don’t mean that,” Kat panicked reaching for him again.

  Nic grabbed her hands and pushed them down, needing her to finally fuckin’ get that they were done.

  “I’ve never meant anything more, I love her with everything I am,” Nic answered, and watched as her face paled for a moment and then grew angry again.

  “You’d choose a woman who threatened the mother of your child?” Nic’s face showed confusion and Kat jumped on it. “I was minding my own business and she threatened me like a common street thug. Ask Rose, she was there, ask her if your precious Hope threatened to take a hand to me if I so much as looked her way again.”

  Nic looked through the window at Rose and Hope and figured she wasn’t lying. He didn’t give a shit if Hope had threatened Kat, what he did give a shit about was she had kept it from him. This whole scene could have been avoided if she’d just told him and he’d have dealt with Kat himself.

  “You believe me, don’t you sugar?”

  “Oh, I believe you. I believe you got in her face and she pushed back, that I absolutely believe,” Nic gritted out then watched Kat explode.

  “She’s a whore, worse than a whore she’s a gold-digging, murdering, drug pushing piece of shit,” Kat screeched her control going from calm to out of control like a hair-trigger and Nic moved into her, getting right in her face.

  “Shut your fuckin’ mouth,” Nic thundered, his voice holding a lethal edge. “I’m done with your shit, you stay away from Hope do you hear me? You so much as look her direction your monthly manicures are gone. She sees you on the street your fuckin’ car is gone. She breaks a nail because you upset her and I will sue for custody, do you understand me? Whatever fuckin’ game you think you’re playing, it ends today. Except for Nicky, you don’t exist for me. I don’t know what happened to the woman I married all those years ago, but, you, Kat, are so far from that Georgia Peach that it turns my stomach to even call you my ex-wife.”

  Kat stepped back when Nic was done, put her hands to her hair and grabbed hold, like she was hanging on by a thread.

  “I don’t understand? This doesn’t make any sense,” Kat mumbled in shock, trying to wrap her head around the fact that he’d choose some whore over her.

  Watching as Kat battled some inner dialogue, he didn’t care at if she figured it out, he was done being jacked around by this woman. Looking through the window while he waited for Kat to clue in, Nic watched Hope walk to the bar and take the phone from Henri’s hand. She put the phone to her ear, said something to the caller, and then her face fell and the color drained from her cheeks. “Shit,” Nic muttered and turned back to the door as Kat tried to stop him. He shrugged off her hand, and forgot she existed as he headed to the bar, eyes on Hope as she started the tremble. When he reached her, he grabbed the phone from her hand and asked, “Who’s speaking?”

  “This is Detective King with the Reno police department, who’s this?”

  “Nic Beuve, Hope’s man, why are you calling?”

  “We asked Mrs. Cummings to keep in touch with us in case we had news or needed to alert her to John Cummings location. I called to inform her that as of two days ago, he’d skipped town.”

  “Fuck,” Nic hissed and grabbed Hope around the waist and drew her to him.

  “That would be my reaction if Mrs. Cummings were my woman, so keep her safe.”

  “Won’t let her out of my sight, you can count on it.”

  “Have her keep in touch so we know where she is at all times and I’ll call her cell if we have any news.”

  “I don’t want her upset anymore, you need to relay whereabouts you can do that through me,” Nic barked at the detective, then rattled off his number, and then disconnected with “Later.”

  Hope had buried her head in his chest, and when he hung up, he wrapped both his arms around her and held on tight.

  “He won’t get near you,” Nic vowed in her ear and she held on tighter.

  “He’s gonna find me and then all of you will be in danger,” Hope whispered, scared out of her mind. She should have left on that train to keep them all safe from John.

  “He’s not gonna touch you, I’d kill him before he did.” Hope was too lost in her thoughts to hear him and tried to pull away.

  “I should leave, he can’t find me if I keep running,” Hope told no one particular and Nic tightened his arms, tried to hold on to her as she pushed hard to escape. “I need to leave to keep you safe,” Hope cried out, struggling against him, “I need to leave, let me go,” she shouted and Nic pulled her back, locked his arm around her and pulled her into the kitchen and away from prying eyes.

  He took her to Rose’s office and shut the door, then sat down on the couch and pulled her into his lap. She buried her head in his neck and sobbed as Nic envisioned his hands around John Cummings neck.

  The calm before the storm, Nic thought as Hope cried in his arms. He knew once she had time to digest everything, she’d be pissed, and he needed her pissed. Scared she would run, pissed she would fight. He needed her to stand beside him and fight for their future, not run scared trying to keep him safe.

  Slowly her sobs turned to hiccups and he felt her arms go limp. Rose came in as he held her, bringing her purse and sagely advice. When she saw Hope had fallen asleep from exhaustion, Rose whispered, “You hold on tight to her, you hear me? She stubborn when she ‘tink she protectin’ you. Dis’ man will not take any more from ‘tite ange do you hear what I sayin’? Don’t you let her pull away from you, fight her everah’ step, yeah?”

  “Yeah, I hear yo
u Rosie.” He’d sleep with one eye open if he had to, to keep her safe and save her from herself.

  Standing with Hope in his arms, she woke slightly when he moved and she snuggled into him mumbling, “What did Kat-woman want?” Nic chuckled; no doubt she’d learned that phrase from Rose. He wanted to argue with her about not telling him about her encounter with Kat, but figured that was water under the bridge considering John was on the loose. Then it occurred to him he needed her pissed and fighting mad. It didn’t matter whom she was pissed at, just as long as she was something other than scared.

  “She wanted me to know she thought you were a whore and that you threatened her,” Nic told her, thanking his ex for finally giving him something besides a headache.

  “I’m sorry, she said what?” Hope asked her voice suddenly less sleepy and turning angry.

  “It’s not important, angel, go back to sleep.”

  “Not important? Did you just say she called me a whore and you don’t think that’s important?” Hope bit out.

  Nic set her on her feet and she glared at him. He was so relieved to see her pissed he pulled her in his arms and kissed her while Rose stood by and laughed.

  Pushing back from Nic, Hope shouted, “How dare she call me a whore. She sleeps with every Tom, Dick and Harry and calls me a— is she still here?” Hope asked Rose over Nic’s shoulder.

  “I not notice, Cher, you want me to look?”

  “I’ll do it myself,” Hope answered and then broke Nic’s hold and marched out of the room.

  Nic watched her leave and then turned to Rose. “Kat’s gone isn’t she?”

  “Mebbe’, mebbe’ not. If she still here I’ll pop da’ popcorn and watch—you like butter on yours?”

  Nic rolled his eyes for patience, then to be on the safe side chased after his woman. Though, the thought of Hope tearing into Kat did put a smile on his face.

  “And though she be but little, she is fierce,” Nic whispered Shakespeare’s words, and thought the man was thinking of a woman just like Hope when he wrote them.