“What about Jarrod? Are you going to give him another chance? You know he makes good money.”
I couldn’t believe she asked that question, but then again I somewhat expected it. She allowed her abusive husband, Elray, to drive both my brother and I away when we’d graduated from high school. She’d chosen him over us shortly after our dad died. Hard to understand when you’re five and your brother is eight.
“No. There is no second chance for Jarrod. I can’t believe I was with him in the first place.” I shifted on the stool. At sixty-one, Mama’s beauty remained. Her violet-blue eyes with specks of gold reminded me of the sky just before sunset.
“Well, sometimes women have to make certain sacrifices.” She tapped the side of the pot with her spoon.
“What? Are you serious?” I slid off the stool ready to have this long overdue conversation. “Not for me. I can take care of myself. I’ll not sacrifice my safety for a man to take care of me. Do you really think Elray took care of you? Took care of us?”
Mama lowered her aluminum-stirring spoon onto the spoon rest with a slow, deliberate motion, all the while avoiding my glare. When she finally lifted her eyes to meet mine, anger flashed in them followed by sadness. “I did the best I could at the time. It’s time you realize that. You never went without what you needed. Remember that.” She flipped the heat off each burner, turned her back to me, and then stormed out of the kitchen. “Spoiled brat.” Her last words cut.
Her bedroom door slammed a few moments later. So much for long overdue conversations. While Mama and I had our share of disagreements, she’d never acted that way before. But we never delved that deeply into our past before.
“Hey, sis.” Anthony walked into the kitchen. “Where’s Mama?”
I nodded toward the bedroom and gave my brother a hug. “She’s in her room. We just had words, and she’s not at all happy with me right now.”
“Words? About what?” His confusion was evident in his furrowed brow and concerned expression.
“I actually questioned her about Elray.” I slid my purse onto my shoulder.
“Really.” Anthony lifted his eyebrows. “Let me guess. She refused to discuss it.”
“Not quite, she said she did the best she could and then stormed off to her room.” I stood on tiptoes and kissed his cheek. “Good night. I think I’ll go home. Tell her I’ll call her tomorrow.”
“I will. That is if she wants to talk to me.” He kissed my forehead. “Good night.”
I ventured out into the damp evening air and glanced at my phone. I’d been there a little over an hour. Some things never changed.
****
Carlton was awake when I entered his room the next day. “How are you today?”
He lifted his hand and vacillated it back and forth. “Comme ci, comme ça.” His lips tilted up to the right.
I hadn’t heard the Cajun phrase for so-so in a long time. “Sorry to hear. Guess that’s better than feeling worse.”
He laughed. “Yeah, Miss Half-full. It is.”
I checked his equipment levels and made sure he’d taken all his medication for the day. “Do you need anything?”
“I’d like to try sitting in my chair for a while.” He nodded toward the recliner on the opposite side of his bed.
“Sure.” I crossed to the other side of the bed and helped him walk the two steps toward the chair. Once he was comfortable, I draped the colorful, crocheted afghan across his lap. “Do you need anything else?”
“Nope.” He pointed to the stack of letters on the nightstand. “Can you read more?”
“Sure.” I filled both our glasses with water and angled my chair across from his.
I reached for the stack of letters and unfolded the next one.
Dear Carlton,
I hope this letter finds you well and safe. I got your last letter and have read it at least five to ten times every day. Yes, I am well and trying to keep busy. I miss you so much. Mama keeps pushing me to get out and do things with my friends, but nothing sounds fun without you.
I walked by Mr. Levi’s place the other day and thought about the time you and I jumped his fence and his bull nearly pinned us. I was never so scared and excited in my whole life. That’s what every moment with you is like—exciting. Everywhere I go in town reminds me of you. Which I guess is good since we have so many wonderful memories together. I can’t wait for you to come home so I can be Mrs. Carlton Perlouix. That has a nice sound to it. Of course, if Papa knew that you had proposed to me and I accepted, he would be mighty mad. Even Mama doesn’t know that I plan to marry you. I refuse to let a stupid family feud ruin our happy future together. All I want you to concentrate on is staying safe and coming back home to me. I will be praying and waiting.
Love,
Your Lady S
I refolded the paper and slid it back into the lavender scented envelope. When I reached to return it to the stack of letters, he stretched his hand and touched my arm. I gazed into his glistening eyes.
“Thank you,” he whispered.
“Sure, Carlton. It’s my pleasure.” I swallowed back the lump lodged in my throat. Carlton had proposed to Lady S, but he’d never married. I knew that. What could have happened between them?
I patted his hand. His skin held a coolness that sent a chill through me. “Would you like to talk about these?”
He shook his head. “Read more.”
“OK.” I lifted the next letter in the bundle and read.
Dear Carlton,
Hello! My sweet Carlton, I miss you so very much. I wake up each morning and think of all the fun times we shared. My tantie came in from Arkansas yesterday. She and Mama are making jams and preserves today. So Mama will be occupied until Auntie leaves next Sunday. I saw Mr. Rayburn at the post office yesterday. He said he would hold your job until you got back, but he gave me “the look” like everyone else in town. You know that questioning look we got when we first starting hanging out together. Guess family feuds involve more than just the family. Well, I like being the one who will finally bring our families together. Papa hasn’t been as grouchy lately. Guess he figures with you away, I’ll forget about you. That will never happen.
I can’t wait for you to return. I hope you’re doing well and keeping warm and dry. Carlton, please keep dry if you can. I couldn’t bear for you to be ill and I wouldn’t be there to care for you like a proper wife should. You are always in my thoughts and I pray for your safety daily.
Mr. and Mrs. Badeaux said to tell you hello. They sold the filly you helped deliver. I’m pretty sure they got a real good price. She was a beauty. Just think one day we’ll have our own farm and maybe a few horses. I hold on tightly to my dreams, Carlton, because they keep my aching heart warm while you’re gone. I can’t wait to see your smiling face again. Keep safe and know I am praying for your quick return to me.
Love you always,
Your Lady S
Carlton’s lids closed and his steady, raspy breathing indicated he slept. The letter and Lady S consumed me. Who was she? As I returned the letter to the nightstand, Carlton awakened. “Hey,” he said.
“Hey, back.” I smiled.
He smiled, too. “That was my lady.”
Should I dare ask who she was? “Carlton, is your lady still alive?”
He nodded.
“Does she still live in Bijou Bayou?” I sipped from my glass to not appear so eager for his answer.
“Can’t say.” He closed his eyes again and turned away from me.
I didn’t pry any further. Did his answer mean he didn’t know if Lady S lived in Bijou Bayou or he couldn’t tell me? I helped him return to bed and he slept. He rested easier. It could have been wishful thinking, but I believe his skin had a bit of a rosy glow. Just maybe.
Cinq
“Cheryl, ma petite, would you like something to drink?” My Aunt Melanie’s strangely mixed accent of Cajun French and the French she’d picked up while living in France, floated from behind the stainless
steel refrigerator door. She wasn’t the typical Bijou Bayou resident, but that was OK with her. She loved being different.
“Yes, thanks. Diet is fine.” I sat on a barstool overlooking her sink filled with the bowls and spatulas she’d used to hand-mix the ingredients for her famous and blue-ribbon-winning red velvet cake. I inhaled the sweet aroma and vowed I’d be gone before she slid that deliciousness out of the oven. Just thinking about her slathering that amazing cream cheese frosting over her moist red cake weakened my knees.
Her flowing chiffon blouse in red, brown, orange, and teal floated around her as she swayed around the kitchen. I’d bet, if she ever sat still long enough, she’d attract hummingbirds. Her bottle-bought auburn curls danced around her neck keeping up with the shirt’s fabric flouncing around her hips.
She handed me a glass filled with ice and a can of diet cola. “My sweet, this diet stuff is not so good for you. It’s a conspiracy to make you think you’re doing something good. I only keep these here because your mama won’t drink anything else.”
I smirked. “Must be like her.”
She tilted her head toward me and knitted her brow. “Don’t you even go there. Viv, you are not, but we do have to talk.” She stood at the edge of the counter with a whisk and bowl of cream cheese frosting in her hands. “You’re mama told me about the little discussion you two had the other night. Honey, I know how you feel about what happened to you during those childhood years, but you’ve got to remember, people had different ideas about what obligation meant.” Aunt Mel stirred the cream cheese frosting a few times. “Your mama always had someone around to do things for her. You should have seen her in high school. If she dropped a book, there were at least four boys waiting and ready to pick it up for her.”
“I’d heard about how Daddy pampered her, and I’d surely seen it with Elray.” I slid my finger along the rim of the frosting bowl and tasted the creamy goodness she stirred. “And I’m the spoiled brat.” My sarcasm didn’t have time to register with her.
“When your daddy died, she fell apart. I think she married Elray so soon after because he offered her security, and he had the same last name as your daddy. Guess she figured it made things easier. Besides, I think he really loved her, and in her own way, she loved him.” Aunt Mel placed the frosting bowl on the counter and then turned her attention to the sink. She sloshed suds around the bowl with the remains of the cake batter.
Such a waste. I dreamed of licking that red velvet batter. “I try to remember all those things. But I can’t understand why she would allow Elray to hurt her the way he did. I would get so mad at him for pushing her around, and then I’d get even madder at her for letting him. Aunt Melanie, I know I have to let this go, but I’m having a hard time with that.” I sipped the diet drink, vowing I’d give them up after I finished this one.
“Cheryl, did you ever see him push her around?”
“No, but I’d hear them arguing and see the bruises on her arms the next day.”
“You could have come to his funeral, if only for your mama’s sake.” Aunt Melanie dried the last of the dishes and placed a sparkling china platter in the cupboard.
I hung my head. My absence was another sore spot between my mother and me. She couldn’t forgive me for not coming back for Elray’s funeral. “I know. I’ve apologized to her, but it’s not enough. That was five years ago.”
She slid her damp fingers along the edge of my hand. “I know, honey, sometimes it just takes time. Remember, your mama loves you, and she would do anything for her children. She thought she was doing the right thing. It hurt her when you didn’t come.”
“I wish I would have, maybe then the rift between us wouldn’t be the gaping canyon it’s become.”
Aunt Melanie smiled. Her brown eyes wrinkled at the corners and glistened. “I have a feeling that being back here in Bijou Bayou will heal many old wounds. Maybe you two can come to church with me on Sunday. You never know what can happen.” A ding echoed throughout the spacious kitchen. “My cake is done. Yummy. You’ll have a piece with me, right?”
She donned two oversize mitts and then opened the oven door. When she slid the cake onto the counter, the rich aroma spread throughout the kitchen.
“Sure.” I reached for the metal spatula. “I’ll help you frost it.”
****
My trips to the post office in Bijou Bayou proved an adventure. Who would I run into today? Someone who knew me when “I was just a little girl.” It seemed Mother told everyone she met that her daughter had come back to her. Last week, Mr. Henri, the butcher at Henri’s Meat and Greet had commented on my ex-boyfriend in a way that told me he knew more than I wanted him to about my past with Jarrod.
While walking toward the small post office, I rifled through my purse for my mailbox key.
“Whoa, Cheryl.”
The deep soothing voice swaddled my heart like a blanket on a cold night. That voice, so familiar, had whispered loving words to me. Long ago.
I met Beau’s intense eyes. He wrapped his hands around my arms to keep me from running into him. The subtle crisp scent of clean, woodsy, and manly filled the small space between us, awakening my senses.
“Beau. Hello.” Unnerved by our closeness, I took a step back.
“How are things going for you?” he asked.
“Well, I’m trying to adjust to small town living again.” Urgh. I wanted to bite my tongue and snatch the words back. Small town living was the reason things had not worked out between us. He loved Bijou Bayou. I couldn’t wait to get as far away as possible.
He slipped his hands into the pockets of his blue jeans. “Yeah, I imagine after living in Houston, this place is pretty boring for you.”
“I keep busy.” I dawdled with the key in my hand.
He stepped aside to allow Mrs. Martin by.
I nodded toward the retreating Elaine Martin. “Now that she’s seen us together, the rumor mill will be working overtime. I’d say in about an hour, at the most, the whole town will know we were talking.”
He shrugged. “Who cares? People who know me won’t care, and it gives the old people something exciting to think about.” A grin spread his lips. “Even old people need entertainment. Don’t you agree, Cheryl?”
I thought about Carlton and nodded. “Yep, they do. Guess I worry too much about what people think.”
“Yes, you do. I’m on my way to Sammy’s for a cup of coffee. Come join me. We can catch up.”
Should I?
But…
Was I reading too much into the invitation? Catching up with Beau did sound inviting, and I wanted to know how his life had been. One cup. That would be all. Just one cup. “OK. I’ll pick up my mail and meet you there.”
With my mail in the deep pockets of my scrub top, I walked the block and a half to Sammy’s Diner. As I slid into the booth across from Beau, the coolness of the red vinyl felt good through the thin cotton of my scrub pants. Especially after coming in from the stifling heat. A steaming cup of coffee awaited me. Its bold aroma and creamy color teased as I sat across from Beau. He had already put the sweetener and creamer in.
“Hope you still like your coffee with two sweeteners and two teaspoons of cream.”
He still remembered.
I nodded and took the first sip, savoring the creamy richness. The first sip of a fresh cup of coffee—one of the few simple pleasures in life I held dear.
Determined to maintain the ‘just friends’ atmosphere, I thanked him and moved on to the catching up part. “I saw something with a Battice Medical Supply sticker on it and wondered if your family still owned the company.”
“When Dad passed away, I took over running the place. All my brothers moved away, so I was the only one left. I bought them out a couple of years ago. So now, it’s mine. I’m hoping Steven will be interested in staying here and running it one day. How about you, Cheryl? What are you doing?”
“I’m a hospice nurse. I’m doing a private duty job right now.” I peered at
the opening door.
His attention followed mine to the door and then tracked back to me. “Cheryl, relax. We’re not doing anything wrong. I have coffee with old friends all the time. It’s not a crime.”
“I’m sorry. It’s just that I remember our time together so long ago...” I ran my finger along the edge of the cup.
He smiled or maybe grimaced. I wasn’t sure, but I saw a brief flash of pain cross his face. “That was a long time ago. My heart has healed, and I realized you needed to leave this town. This place held unpleasant memories for you. I just hoped we would make new ones that would be grander and better than the bad ones. Guess God had other plans.”
I nodded. “Yeah, he did. But I believe I took that whole free will thing to the extreme. Lord, knows I’m paying for many of my poor choices.”
His dark eyes seemed to melt at the outer corners. As the sunlight streamed in from the window, his eyes reflected the soft glow. “Not unlike your mother.”
Wow, I couldn’t believe he’d said that. I shrugged. “Not unlike my mother. As hard as that is to admit, I finally realize I’m a bit like her.”
He arched his right eyebrow, grinned, and then leaned in a little closer across the table. His clean-shaven skin glistened around the cleft in his chin. “Just a little?”
I refused to acknowledge his question. Admitting I was a little like my mother took more than he would know or understand. There was no way I would go any further.
I took another sip of the aromatic coffee and placed the cup on the table. OK, it was now, or I’d never have the nerve to do what I should’ve done years ago. I drew in a deep breath. “Beau, I’m sorry for the way I ended things with us. I never wanted to hurt you. You were the best thing in my life at the time, and truthfully, I didn’t think I deserved you.”
“Cheryl, quit apologizing. It’s OK. Really. I’m over it. Annie and I had a great life together. Steven is a great kid, and together we’re working through the rough road we’re on. Although, I miss Annie terribly, we’ve come to grips with our situation, and we’re doing OK.”
The Vigil Page 3