“That’s Finn Duhon,” Rosa Valenti said. “Eileen’s brother. Isn’t he a hunk?”
Lobelia stared at her. “A hunk? Where would you get a word like that from, Rosa Valenti? Too much of that awful reality TV, I expect.” Lobelia’s favorite show was Desperate Housewives but that was different altogether.
“He’s such a nice boy,” Rosa said. “He came by the other day, and he reminds me of his father—”
“God rest his soul,” Lobelia interrupted.
“Yes,” Rosa said. “Finn’s still not at peace with Tom’s death. He’ll accept what happened in time, but he’s not ready yet.”
“Why would he come by to see you?” Lobelia asked. Of course she knew why. “He’s nosing around, I suppose. Could be he’d be better off leavin’ that alone.”
“Shh,” Rosa said.
Eileen sat next to Mrs. Merryfield and gave her a shy smile. Finn and the boy said something about wanting to be nearer the door for more air and took themselves off. “I don’t suppose we’re interestin’ enough for them,” Lobelia said, but she forced herself to smile. “It’s nice for you to have your brother home, Eileen.”
The noise level rose abruptly. Emma and Sandy emerged from the kitchen, both of them overdressed if anyone ever had been, and helped the new girl and Holly Chandall fill plates with softshell crabs, crawfish, shrimp and little puff pastries—deep-fried like the shellfish, Lobelia hoped. She could smell fresh hot biscuits and hotter honey.
The women gave up trying to push the trolley between the tables and stationed it in front of the piano instead. They plopped overflowing plates on each table, passed out napkins and plastic glasses, and stood back for Ona to pour beer. Lobelia liked a little beer in the evenings. Made her sleep better.
Finn studied the room, checking to see who was there. He thanked Annie when she brought food for him and Aaron, and Ona for the beer she poured. Aaron got a glass, too, and looked sheepishly at Finn, who pretended not to notice. He and Emma had exchanged glances when he arrived, and he’d decided it would be easier on both of them if he didn’t sit too close.
“Everyone in town’s here,” Aaron said. “I’d be scared if I had to play the piano in front of them.”
“You don’t play the piano,” Finn said.
“If I did.”
John Sims came in looking harried. He saw Finn and slid into a chair beside him. “Wouldn’t want to miss this,” he said. “Big deal in a town where nothing happens.” He put a whole softshell crab into his mouth and crunched. When he could speak he said, “Best thing I ever tasted—since the last best thing I ever tasted. I just got back in town. Haven’t even been home.”
Finn had met John a couple of times since he came back and remembered him from childhood summers John had spent with his grandparents in Pointe Judah.
“How’s the cleanup coming?” John said.
“Mmm?” Finn raised his brows.
John demolished another crab and drank some of his beer. “I know what it’s like to clean out after old folks. Took me forever, what with all my traveling. The grandparents kept everything. You getting ready to sell?”
In this town there were few secrets. “I haven’t made up my mind,” he said.
“I didn’t think I’d stay,” John said. “But I got a territory out here—I’m a pharmaceutical rep—and I like it here, so—” he spread his hands “—here I am. You can live cheaper here, and I figure I can always make do with the money from the rental if I have to.”
Finn was getting more information than he needed, but folks around here talked freely, something Finn had gotten away from. “Sounds like a good deal.”
“You know who’s next door?” he said, elbowing Finn. “In the house I rent out? You remember my grandparents had the two lots they made into one, and two places on it?”
Finn shook his head.
“My great-grandmother used to live in the second one. That Secrets group uses it now.” He shook the fingers of one hand. “Some of them are hot. I don’t know what goes on in there, but you should hear the screaming. The woman who rents the place is wacko—never goes out.”
The idea of John Sims watching Emma come and go from Secrets made Finn’s scalp prickle.
Emma wore a cream lace top over a camisole and drapy cream silk pants. Finn did his best not to watch her every move and failed. He’d caught a glimpse of her feet in high sandals for the first time, and the sight had given him a sexy jolt. So he’d developed a foot fetish—he could get to like it. Her slender feet and deep pink toenails turned him on. Everything about her turned him on. Lying in her bed, holding her, making love, sleeping, talking, sharing what mattered to him most, had brought him close to a woman in a way he didn’t remember.
Holly Chandall rang a fork against a glass and kept on ringing until the crowd quieted down. “I hope you’re enjoying the food,” she said, smiling and spreading her arms. “You’ll find my cards on the table by the door. Annie and I will be glad to cater your events. Now, what you’ve been waiting for, Emma and Sandy are going to entertain us. You didn’t have to buy a ticket, but we know you’ll be generous with your donations for the children’s library. We’ll pass out envelopes.”
When Emma sat at the piano, Finn’s pulse speeded up. Nervous? He had to be nuts. It wasn’t as if he was about to play for a bunch of people.
Annie ran to turn out some of the lights.
A murmur of male voices came from outside, and Orville Lachance walked in with Carl Viator. Rather than sit down, they went around the edge of the room until they could stand in the lights that shone on Emma and the piano, and on Sandy in lowcut coral chiffon.
“Look at that,” John Sims said, leaning closer than Finn cared for. “How about them apples?”
He did not, Finn decided with a glance at Aaron, like John after all. Aaron was too engrossed in the front of the room to have noticed what the man said.
Emma ran her fingers across the keys and gave a thousand kilowatt smile. She’d told him she would be terrified, but it surely didn’t show. She played, “I Wish I Could Shimmy Like My Sister Kate,” with Sandy singing in a full, husky voice, and the place erupted. A contingent of refugees from Buzz’s stamped their feet and hollered until they were loudly shushed.
Finn couldn’t keep himself from looking at Orville Lachance, who smiled as if the woman at the piano was his adored wife and they had a perfect marriage. It’s all over for you, buddy. You had your chance. A man shouldn’t feel the way Finn did about Lachance. Emma had shared every word that passed between her and her soon to be ex-husband on Sunday. Why would he come here tonight?
“She’s got a great voice,” John whispered as Sandy quit “shimmying” and belted out, “Didn’t She Ramble” with enough volume and body language to start a chorus of whistles. Emma played flawlessly, effortlessly, that big smile never faltering.
When the piece finished and Orville could quiet the applause enough, he yelled, “I give you Mrs. Viator and Mrs. Lachance. Who says Pointe Judah can’t compete with N’awlins?”
More applause.
Finn made fists and fantasized about wiping the smile off Orville’s face.
“Now Emma’s going to play somethin’ I can’t sing,” Sandy said. “Take it away, Emma.”
Emma bent over the keyboard for a moment, settled her fingers and played a medley of Strauss waltzes that had the mostly older audience swaying to the music.
“I’m outta here for a smoke,” John said. “I’ll be back for the brunette.” He slipped outside.
“Emma’s real good,” Aaron said in Finn’s ear. “People your age like this, don’t they?”
Finn punched the kid in the side, just hard enough to tickle, and Aaron poked him back. “She can really play,” Finn said. Emma could play Strauss for him anytime. She could play anything for him. “I think she likes jazz best.” He’d better not sound too knowledgeable about the lady. “This is probably because she thinks this audience is mostly older.”
As
if to make a liar of him, Emma switched to “Soul Sister,” slipped easily to “Steppin’ Fast,” and raised hoots with “Such a Night.” She played one Cajun song after another, and the folks sang along—including Finn. It wasn’t Emma’s fault if Lachance didn’t know when to quit.
Sandy drank a long glass of water and opened a door from the kitchen to the side of the building with a Dumpster view. She’d seen John leave when she stopped singing. Her stash was getting low, but she couldn’t be sure he would have anything on him. But John didn’t hand out if she didn’t put out. She would have to get back inside in minutes, so she’d better make the best of the goodies she had left. She reached between her breasts and hooked out two pills, which she popped with some of the water. A girl with active fat cells had to do something to look after what she had. The highs were a side benefit, a side benefit she had to have.
“Smart girl,” John said in her ear.
She hadn’t seen him coming.
“Get back there. Over there behind the Dumpster.” He held her tightly around the waist and hurried her where he wanted her to go. “Don’t make a sound.”
In the black, rancid-smelling space where he spun her to face him, he whispered, “You don’t have to be here. Give the word and you can go back. I just thought you might be glad to see me.”
He needed to be put in his place. Her time would come. Tonight she wanted what he wanted. “I’m very glad to see you,” she told him, and he curled her fingers around a fat little envelope.
“Thank you,” she said. “What’s mine is yours, but make it fast.”
The arrival of Harold Chandall galvanized Finn. The man, big and blond, his eyes searching the room, smelled like trouble. Emma had told Finn about Holly’s decision to get a divorce, and from the look of Chandall, someone had told him, too.
“Stay put,” Finn told Aaron. “Everything’s okay.” He stood up, moved around his chair and leaned against the windowsill at the back of the room. From there he could move quickly to intervene if necessary.
Emma had played to the room in every way, and they gave it up for the good time she’d shown them. She stood and gave a quick bow, then sat again when Sandy ran back to her place by the piano. Before they could start again, Orville called for silence.
Chandall saw Holly, and his chest rose and fell visibly. He opened and closed his hands at his sides. He took a couple of steps, then stopped while he looked for the best way through the crowd.
“I hadn’t planned to make a public announcement at this point,” Orville boomed, “but I’m too pumped being here with all of my friends to keep it to myself any longer. I’m runnin’ for state governor, and it’s people like you who give me the strength to go ahead. I want to be your man at the state capitol.”
Finn shook his head. The guy was unbelievable. With every shout of “Orville Lachance, Orville Lachance,” he glowed.
“To celebrate this wonderful evenin’—” He jogged to Emma’s side and snatched up her hand. “I’m announcin’ I’ll match whatever gets collected for the kids’ library tonight. And double it!”
Don’t let him use you like that, Emma.
But she kept a smile on her face, and she didn’t take her hand away.
Chandall took advantage of everyone’s attention being elsewhere and made a lunge, but Finn was faster. He stepped in front of the man and said, “Evenin’, Harold. I need you to step outside.”
“Get out of my way.” Harold’s face worked. He struggled with his rage.
“Get hold of yourself. You won’t help anythin’ this way. Come on, let’s talk.”
“Who the fuck are you?”
Noise in the room swallowed the epithet. “You used to know me. Finn Duhon.”
Chandall blinked. He seemed to hover between rushing Holly and doing what Finn asked.
He turned on his heel and hurried from the room. Finn followed and caught up with him beside a dark SUV. “Get the fuck out of my way,” Harold said, climbing in and slamming the door. He floored the gas and shot backward before screeching out of the parking lot.
Finn looked through the windows of Out Back. He could hear laughter and raised voices from inside. Looking at Emma with Lachance tonight, he would defy anyone to think they were other than a couple. Emma wouldn’t be the first woman to change her mind about something major.
If she did, what did that make Finn—a convenient lay?
25
Taking the first step didn’t make you weak.
Emma waited for Finn to answer his phone and sat down.
“Duhon,” he said, and there was nothing welcoming there.
“It’s Emma.”
“Hi.”
She rested her elbows on the kitchen table. “All day I’ve been tellin’ myself I shouldn’t be the one to make this call, but I’m makin’ it anyway.”
“Sounds as if you’re not good at takin’ your own instructions.”
What did that mean? “I guess not. Was I wrong to call you?”
“Why would you think you might be?”
Teddy jumped on the table, and rather than shoo her off, Emma gathered the cat onto her lap. She needed something warm and alive to hold on to. “I saw you at Ona’s last night.”
“Wouldn’t have missed it. I told you I’d be there. You were really good, and so was Sandy. You could take that show on the road.”
You’re staying away from the subject we should talk about: us. “Thank you very much. I think Sandy had fun, and I know I did. I’d forgotten what a charge it is to get lost in the music and only come out when people clap. Heady stuff.”
“You should play a lot, Emma. You’ve got too much talent to waste.”
She bit her lip.
“Emma?”
“I’m here. Thanks again. One minute you were there at the back of the room, the next you were gone. What happened? Did somethin’ important come up?”
“You don’t have any idea why I left?” he said.
“No.” But from the question and the way he asked it, she could tell that something had happened.
“We’ve made love. We’ve shared things I’ve never shared with anyone.”
Her heart thudded. “We both did. You didn’t have to remind me about what’s happened between us. I’m not goin’ to forget. Ever.”
She heard him expel a breath, a long, long breath. “I thought… It seemed right, but maybe it wasn’t. Maybe you aren’t in a place where you can know what you want yet,” he said.
Teddy screeched, and Emma released her. She’d been clutching the cat to her. “How can you say that?”
“I’m thinkin’ out loud. It’s not what I want to believe, but how did you think I’d feel, watchin’ you hold Orville’s hand and smile around while he was talkin’ as if you were the happiest couple in town?”
She thought she’d explained how she intended to get through her divorce, how she hoped to do it without anger. “You wanted me to make a scene when Orville got near me?”
“Look, if you’d changed places with me, you might have understood. You might understand now. You should be able to figure out what I’m feelin’, but you can’t. I’m not blamin’ you, just tellin’ you the way I see it. Let’s give it some time.”
Emma held her breath, bracing for him to hang up. He didn’t. “I’m at home,” she said. “My folks’ place. Would you like to come up for an early dinner? I could fire up the barbeque.”
“I’m not at home.”
Where are you? “I see.” She couldn’t ask him where he was. “Maybe when you get back?”
“It’ll be too late, but thanks for the offer.”
“Finn, did I hurt you last night?”
He snorted. “What makes you think that? I’m a grown-up, a man. Men don’t hurt.”
Sarcasm didn’t suit him. “I thought we understood each other,” she said. “I still think we do, but we haven’t had enough practice together to deal with a scene like last night,” she said.
“Emma… Emma, we never c
ould have enough practice at scenes like that. Or I couldn’t. I wouldn’t want to.”
She was out of things to say. If she told him she would cry as soon as he went away, it would sound like emotional blackmail. “So you think we shouldn’t…” If she said it, he might say yes, and she didn’t want that. “What do you want to do?”
He thought about it for so long. “I’m out of brilliant things to say, if I ever had any.” She heard him swallow. “I think we should both take a step back, then just wait and see.”
Suehanna Lake sat on the surface of the land, or so it seemed from Finn’s viewpoint. Stretched out on the ground, he propped his elbows on a fallen tree too old to recognize as anything in particular.
He and his dad used to come here to fish, and they’d invariably stayed late. That was why Finn had decided to hang around tonight after driving the twenty miles or so from Pointe Judah and having lunch at the only place to eat on the lake. A scatter of houses, some of them boarded-up for years, hugged the lake on one side. A couple who lived in a lodge where he doubted anyone stayed anymore served some of the best gumbo he’d tasted in a long time.
He should have been the one to call. The basic differences between men and women were no secret to him, and he’d known she would be waiting to hear from him. If he had known what to say, he might have done it.
A red and mauve sky turned the lake to rose and purple. The reflections of cypress trees wavered on the flashy water, and the trees themselves were inky outlines against the sky.
The day had been hot, just like yesterday, just like most days. Finn liked it hot, but a short temper fed on stillness and stickiness, and turned his mind to dark thoughts. He had knocked around the idea of seeing if they could scrounge up a room for him at the lodge and might still do that.
Damn it all. He punched in Emma’s preprogrammed cell number, and the phone rang four times before she answered. “Hello, Finn.”
“I didn’t handle your call worth a damn. I’m not tellin’ you I’ve changed my mind about what’s botherin’ me, but I don’t have to be a boor.”
“Last night, when I had to put on that act with Orville, I felt so bad,” Emma said. “But I thought you’d understand.”
Body of Evidence Page 25