Dwelling Place

by Kathleen Y'Barbo

  Sophie tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Like what?”

  “Well, like what is his level of commitment to this action? If Ezra Landry is a reasonable man, maybe he can come to understand that his grandmother wanted you and the girls to have the house. I emphasize the word maybe.”

  “Can’t you just explain it to him? You knew Nell almost as well as I did, and you’re a lawyer. He might listen to you.”

  “I can’t do that. Ezra Landry has legal representation; thus I am enjoined from communication outside those channels.”

  Sophie raised her brows, and Bree added, “Legally I can only speak to his attorney, not him.”

  “Oh.”

  The coach’s whistle chirped, signaling the end of practice. In response the girls raced to huddle in a circle around him.

  Sophie sighed. A few minutes from now, ten girls would come running toward them wanting juice boxes and orange slices. She’d hoped a conversation with Bree might lead her to a solution. Now that their time together had almost run out, she was nowhere near solving the conundrum that Ezra Landry’s lawsuit had become.

  Then an idea dawned. “But I’m not enjoined, am I? From talking to Ezra, I mean.”

  “Oh, I don’t like the sound of this already, and I don’t even know what you’re planning.” Bree gave her a sideways look. “Do you even know what enjoined means?”

  “Yes, madam attorney, I know what enjoined means. What I want to know is, are there any laws against me speaking to the man?”

  “In general, no.” She leaned forward. “In specific, maybe. What do you have in mind?”

  Sophie smiled. “Don’t worry, Bree. I’m not going to do anything stupid.”

  “Define stupid,” Bree said as the girls came rushing up. “In my opinion, spending any amount of time with the opposing party in a lawsuit is the opposite of smart.” She spied the deputy heading in their direction and pasted on a broad smile before leaning over to address Sophie. “And in case you’re not catching my meaning, the opposite of smart is stupid. Just stay away from him and let the professionals handle this.”

  Reaching for the bowl of orange slices, she shook her head. “Don’t worry, Bree. I’m only trying to make this lawsuit go away so the girls and I can live in peace.” She chuckled. “I’m not going to fall in love with him or anything.”

  “Who’s in love?”

  Bree looked past her. “Well, hello there, Deputy. Speaking of love, I just love those sunglasses of yours. You must tell me where you found them. I need to buy my brother a birthday gift, and that’s exactly what I’m looking for.”

  For the next few minutes, Bree and the girls’ coach carried on a conversation about everything from sunglasses and the weather to the color green and the health benefits of jogging. Through it all, Sophie handed out juice boxes and orange slices while marveling at her friend’s easy and enviable ability to speak to men. Before the last girl left, Bree had secured a date for a jog at the park that afternoon.

  “Despite what your T-shirt says, you don’t jog, Bree,” Sophie said when the coach left. “And guess what? I happen to know Phil is a marathon runner. How are you going to keep up?”

  Bree grinned. “That is the least of my worries.” She rose and gathered her purse and keys. “The real concern is what will I wear?”

  “Bree!”

  “I’m kidding.” She shook her head. “Hey, girls, how about we celebrate your win with pancakes?”

  Chloe giggled. “Nobody won, Auntie Bree. This was a practice.”

  “Just a practice, eh? Well, I guess that means no one wants pancakes, since it was just a practice. And, of course, no one would want to ride with the top down over to the diner on this glorious day.”

  A pair of seven-year-old voices rose in disagreement. Sophie covered her mouth with her hand so the girls wouldn’t see her amusement.

  “Well now,” Bree said as she tapped her temple with her forefinger. “Help me out here? Do we have a consensus? A ride in my convertible followed by pancakes at the Magnolia Café.” When the girls squealed their approval, Bree held up her hands to silence them. “Shall we invite your mom?”

  Three sets of eyes turned in Sophie’s direction. “You guys go on and save me a place. I’ll be right there. I just have a quick call to make.”

  Bree clicked the alarm on her car, then pushed the button to set the top in motion. The girls raced across the grass, each claiming the front seat as they ran.

  “Backseat, both of you, and buckle up,” Bree called. “You know the rules. Oh, and cover up with that blanket I left on the floor.”

  “You have a blanket?” Sophie chuckled. “Why didn’t you get it out when you were so cold back there on the bench?”

  “It didn’t match.” She stood shoulder to shoulder with Sophie until the girls were settled in the car; then she turned to face her friend, a serious look on her face. “Soph? What are you planning?”

  “Nothing my lawyer would disapprove of,” she said.

  Bree’s eyes narrowed. “Why do I doubt you?”

  “Oh, ye of little faith,” she said with a giggle as she tossed the remains of the morning snack into a bag.

  “Oh, me who knows you too well.” Bree shook her head. “Promise me you won’t do anything to jeopardize this case.”

  She looked her friend in the eye. “I promise. Remember what I have to lose here.”

  “All right, then.” Bree shouldered her handbag and followed Sophie toward the parking lot.

  Sophie tossed the bag into the trash container at the edge of the parking lot, then strolled over to kiss the girls. “Be right there, I promise,” she said.

  Once Bree’s convertible disappeared around the corner, Sophie climbed into her van and shut the door. In contrast to the chilly weather outside, the sun had warmed the vehicle’s interior to a toasty temperature. For a moment she wished for Bree’s lighter-weight ensemble.

  She riffled through her purse until she found the business card she’d tossed in there more than a month ago. Setting the card on the console, she reached for her cell phone and punched in the numbers. Expecting to leave a message, she jumped when she heard a man’s voice on the line.

  “Mr. Dubose, please.”

  “This is Major Dubose.”

  Major. Sophie suppressed a groan. In the background she heard noises that indicated he might be outdoors.

  “I’m terribly sorry to bother you on a Saturday, but. . .” She paused in an attempt to collect her thoughts and exit the call gracefully. “I was trying to get in touch with Ezra Landry. I know he’s a client of yours. I can call back and leave a message on voice mail if you’d like.”

  Fifteen

  “No, really, it’s fine,” Ezra heard Calvin say. “I’m afraid I’m at a little disadvantage though. You see, I’m not in my office.”

  Ezra continued to loosen the lug nut on the spare tire while his buddy made himself comfortable leaning against the lone tree in the narrow front yard of Calvin’s on-base house. The task complete, Ezra moved on to the next and found it wouldn’t budge.

  “Hey, Cal, you gonna talk all day, or are you going to help me get this car back on the road?” When Calvin smiled and waved away the question, Ezra’s irritation rose. “Look, pal—this is your car, and I’m doing all the work.”

  “Yes,” Calvin said to the caller, “in fact, that is Mr. Landry. Would you like to speak to him?”

  He held the phone out to Ezra, chuckling. “It’s for you. Now give me that lug wrench, and I’ll show you what a real soldier can do.”

  “Who is it?”

  Calvin mouthed the words, “A woman.”

  Ezra took the phone and watched Calvin strut back to the car, laughing all the way. “What’s so funny?” he called, but Calvin merely pointed to the phone. “Hello?” he finally said. “Landry here.”

  “Mr. Landry? This is Sophie Comeaux.”

  He shot a look at Calvin that would scald a cat. Did Calvin know to whom he was speaking?
Surely not. The look his buddy gave him was full of too much amusement to know the caller was the interloper now occupying Nell Landry’s house.

  “Hello? Are you there?”

  Returning his attention to the phone, Ezra offered Calvin his back. No way could he concentrate with Cal staring at him. “Yes, I’m here.”

  “I’m sure you’re surprised to hear from me.”

  Ezra left the statement hanging between them. He had nothing he wanted to say to her, nor did he intend to encourage any sort of conversation. If he remained silent, perhaps she would hang up more quickly.

  “I remembered that you said if I wanted to speak to you I should contact you through your lawyer.”

  Silence. If she were here, he’d give her the boot camp look. That usually had one of two effects: gleaning the truth or sending the party running. In this case he’d vote for the running.

  “I was just at the park, and, well, I guess you’re not interested in why I was at the park.”

  “Nope.”

  “Yes, well, all right,” she said. “Anyway, I found Mr. Dubose’s—”

  “Major Dubose.”

  “Yes, um, Major Dubose. Anyway, I found his card and figured I would leave a message, but instead he answered.”

  “You should have. Left a message, I mean.”

  “I couldn’t. He answered.”

  A carpenter ant made its way up the porch post, and Ezra studied it. As it reached the flat surface of the rail, Ezra flicked it onto the ground where it reconnoitered and began its climb once more. When it reached the rail, he sent it flying again, only to watch it head for the post one more time.

  Like that ant, Ezra felt he was getting nowhere fast.

  “Is this about the house, Miss Comeaux? Because if you’re accepting my offer, you could’ve told Calvin instead of me.”

  “The house?” Sophie paused, and Ezra hoped she was trying to figure out how to tell him she’d given up the fight. “I suppose it is about the house,” she continued. “Sort of.”

  “Then I need to give the phone back to the major.”

  “Look—I know you had plans to meet the girls after church tomorrow, but I was wondering. . . .” She paused. “I was wondering if instead you might be willing to come to a barbecue at my house a week from today.”

  My house. It took all he had not to correct her on that.

  She continued without waiting for his answer. “I know it’s a bit chilly out today, but the weatherman says we should be warming up tomorrow. Temperatures should be back in the 70s by next week. Perfect weather for a barbecue. You can come Saturday at five, can’t you?”

  “Five?” He turned to look at Calvin for help but found the man’s legs sticking out from under the car. Evidently he’d decided the lug nuts weren’t a priority.

  Great.

  “Is that too early?”

  Ezra forced his attention back to the conversation. “Early? No, it’s fine, but. . .”

  But what? He could probably find a million excuses for not attending this thing, but what if she intended to tell him in person that she was taking his offer?

  “But you’re probably wondering why I would invite you to dinner, considering.”

  “Yeah,” he said. “Considering.”

  “Two reasons.” She paused. “First off, I’m not proud of how I reacted to the current situation. And, second, I wonder if. . . I sort of hoped that once you get to know the girls and me, you will see what Nell meant to us.”

  At the mention of his grandmother, all the nice went out of the conversation. “I’m busy Saturday,” he said. “Thanks anyway.”

  “Give us a chance, Ezra. What if you’re wrong about your grandmother’s wishes?”

  He wanted to say no, wanted it with everything he had. Strange, but he opened his mouth, and the opposite sentiment came out. “Would you mind if I brought Calvin along?”

  “Your lawyer?”

  Her surprise stumped him. If she intended to give up, wouldn’t she want to finalize matters as quickly as possible?

  He understood a lot of things, but women were not one of them. “Is that a no?” he fired back.

  “No. I mean, that’s fine. I suppose.”

  “So it’s a yes?”

  Another pause and what sounded like a sigh. “Yes,” Sophie said slowly, “I suppose it is.”

  Ezra closed the fancy phone and set it on the porch rail in the path of the carpenter ant. This time he let the insect make its way around the obstacle to continue on.

  Reaching for the lug wrench, Ezra strolled to the car and tapped the bumper. Hard.

  Calvin shot out from under the car with a scowl. “What did you do that for?” he asked, rubbing his head.

  “Cancel your plans for next Saturday night.” Ezra knelt to tackle the stubborn lug nut with renewed fervor.

  “I don’t have plans for next Saturday night.”

  He smiled as the metal gave way and the lug loosened. “You do now, my friend. We’re going to a barbecue.”

  ❧

  “A barbecue?” Bree shook her head. “Oh no, I don’t think so. This is highly irregular.”

  Sophie leaned forward and rested her elbows on the table. She was glad the girls had met up with friends from the soccer team and were now headed for an afternoon playdate. The unplanned afternoon alone would be wonderful; the unplanned conversation with her attorney, though, less so.

  “Irregular but not illegal, right?”

  Bree considered the question a moment, then shot back several of her own in response. Once Sophie had answered them all to Bree’s satisfaction, the attorney nodded.

  “All right, I will give my blessing to this.” Bree met Sophie’s gaze. “But I don’t want you to sign anything, you hear? Nothing. Not even a paper napkin.”

  Nodding, Sophie picked up her purse and reached for the check. “Oh, don’t worry. You’ll be there to keep me from making any mistakes.”

  “I’ll what?” Bree rose to follow Sophie to the cashier. “Oh no, you don’t. I am not going to put my official stamp of approval on this by actually attending.”

  “But you said it would be okay.”

  Slipping a twenty to the cashier, Bree frowned. “I said I would give this harebrained scheme of yours my blessing. That’s off the record, Soph, and only because I have seen some room for compromise in his case. I can’t just show up there. Opposing counsel will think it’s a setup. Besides, I have a lunch meeting next Saturday with a client.”

  “Then there’s no problem.” Sophie replaced Bree’s twenty with her own, then handed the money to the cashier. “You don’t have to be at my place until five.” She tucked Bree’s money into her friend’s purse, then offered her a broad smile. “See how nicely that works out?”

  “Nice?” Bree shook her head. “I have a bad feeling about this, Soph. Tell me you’ll reconsider.”

  Sophie affected a thinking pose by placing her knuckles against her forehead. A second later she dropped her hand to her waist and smiled. “Okay, I thought about it. Be there at four thirty.”

  “I thought you said five.”

  Turning on her heels, Sophie headed for the door. “I did, but I forgot how well you can toss a salad.” She stopped at the curb to face Bree. “You’ll be there, won’t you? Please?”

  “Hey, Bree, ready for our run?”

  Sophie grasped Bree’s arm as the girls’ soccer coach jogged toward them. “Bree, you just ate Belgian waffles. How do you propose to run?”

  Her friend offered a grin that broadened into a wide smile as her date drew near. “Well, hello there, Deputy,” she said. “You’re just in time.”

  He sent an acknowledging wave toward Sophie, then turned his attention to Bree. “I am?”

  “Yes, you are.” Bree gave Sophie a sideways look, then reached out to touch the coach’s arm. “I know we were supposed to go jogging, but I was wondering—would you happen to be any good with cars?”

  “Cars?” The big guy took the bait in two s
econds flat. “Sure,” he said with an air of authority. “What seems to be the trouble?”

  Bree winked at Sophie, then strolled toward her convertible. “It’s kind of hard to explain. Maybe I could take you for a ride and show you.” She paused. “Unless you’d rather run.”

  The next thing Sophie knew, she was waving at Bree and the soccer coach as they sped down the road. “If only I had a way with men like she does,” Sophie muttered as she climbed into the van.

  As soon as the words were out, she groaned. The last thing she needed to cultivate was the skill of attracting men. She’d already attracted one too many.

  A memory threatened, and with practiced skill she pushed it away. Her hand shaking, she attempted to fit the key into the ignition, only to watch it fall to the floor.

  Hot tears threatened. “This is silly,” she muttered as she leaned down to retrieve the keys.

  “What’s silly, chere?” a feminine voice called. “And tell me quick because I’ve got the best news.”

  Sixteen

  “Call her back.” Calvin swiped at the grease on his forehead, only making the stain worse. “I’m telling you, this can only spell bad news.”

  “Are you serious?” Ezra let the wrench drop into the tool box, then knelt beside the car to check his work on the lug nuts. “What am I supposed to do? Tell her my lawyer won’t let me go?”

  “Yes.”

  “Yes?” He watched Calvin stand and dust off his jeans, then head for the house. “And if you don’t, I will,” he said over his shoulder.

  “Wait a minute.” Ezra fell in step beside his friend. “I’ve been handling my own dating calendar for years, Cal. I don’t need you to speak to a woman for me.”

  Calvin stopped and gave him an odd look. “What did you say?”

  “What?” He searched his mind for anything that might have caused Calvin to react so strongly. Nothing.

  “You said it was a date.”

  Ezra shook his head. “Oh, come on. I didn’t say that. Well, maybe I used that word, but you know what I meant.”

  “Do I?” Calvin reached for the door knob, then turned back to face Ezra. “I’m very worried about this situation, Ezra. I am concerned you may be getting a little too close to the opposing party here.”