by Lisa Moreau
“Absolutely. Things would just be a lot easier, though, if our fathers didn’t want to strangle each other.”
They pulled into the cemetery parking lot and immediately spotted Hubert and Sherry. He was leaning against their blue Ford looking at his watch with a disgruntled expression, and she was picking wildflowers.
“Great,” Ivy said sarcastically. “They’re early.”
Suddenly, Ivy felt terribly nervous. This was the first time her parents would see her with Claire. They didn’t even know she’d worked at the Old-Timer, much less that she and Claire even knew each other. When Claire pulled up next to them, Hubert did a double take and stood upright with his hands on his hips. He looked Ivy dead in the eye with an icy glare. Claire got out of the car and opened the door for Ivy. With shaky legs she got out and reached for Claire’s hand. If she ever needed support, it was now.
“What the hell is going on here? What are you doing with her?” Hubert pointed at Claire.
Sherry approached clutching a bunch of small yellow flowers in her fist. “Ivy? What’s this about?”
Just then Kurt drove up, parked, and got out of his pickup. Good. Maybe he’d come to Ivy’s defense…or not, considering the fearful look on his face.
“I have a lot to tell you about the past couple of weeks,” Ivy said. “But the most important thing is that Claire and I are together.”
Hubert looked like he was about to jump out of his skin. He turned bright red, and his cheeks puffed out like a chipmunk’s.
“Oh my.” Sherry dropped the flowers she’d been holding.
“I know this is a shock, but we’re in love, and nothing you can say or do will stop us from being together.” Ivy squeezed Claire’s hand.
“Over my dead body,” Hubert said, which would have been funny considering they were at a cemetery—if it wasn’t for the dire circumstances. He pointed at Claire. “You stay away from my daughter.”
Kurt held up his hands. “Everyone just calm down for a minute.”
Hubert looked at Kurt with crazy, fiery eyes. “Aren’t you fuming about this?”
“I was, yes, but after a lot of consideration, I think it’s time to let go of the past.”
Suddenly, Bruiser appeared out of nowhere. Ivy had been so caught up in the conversation she hadn’t noticed him drive up.
“So glad everyone could make it,” Bruiser said, beaming. He had no idea what he was walking into. Ivy almost felt sorry for him.
Hubert ignored Bruiser and eyed Kurt. “Son, do you remember what she did to you?”
“Yes, Dad,” Kurt said, sounding irritated. “Claire didn’t marry me because she’s a lesbian. In retrospect, she did both of us a favor. It would have been better if she’d broken up with me before we got to the altar,” he peered at Claire, “but none of us can change the past.”
“It’s almost seven. Let’s go,” Bruiser said, animatedly.
“Where?” Hubert asked.
“Inside the cemetery!” Bruiser bounced as he walked, which was quite a feat for someone his size.
Hubert cast Kurt a what-the-hell expression, and Sherry seemed just as confused. Kurt shrugged, and all eyes turned to Ivy and Claire.
“Let’s just do as he asked,” Claire said, and led Ivy through the entrance.
Hubert mumbled obscenities under his breath as everyone followed Bruiser. They all stopped beside him about fifty yards away from Violet’s gravesite, where a man stood beside her headstone.
“Who’s that?” Sherry asked, concerned.
“Is that my dad?” Claire squinted.
“What’s he doing to Violet?” Hubert darted forward.
Bruiser caught his arm and stopped him. “Just watch.”
Blaze opened a bag, pulled out half a dozen yellow roses, and placed them beside the headstone. He bowed his head and stood completely still.
“You mean Blaze is the one who’s been leaving roses for Violet all this time?” Ivy asked, flabbergasted. “I always thought it was her boyfriend.”
“Unbelievable,” Claire muttered.
Ivy glanced at her father, struck by the strange look on his face. He seemed to be struggling internally between being touched by the gesture and remaining furious.
“I don’t understand,” Sherry said. “Why would he do that?”
“Several times a month since Violet’s death, Blaze has paid his respects,” Bruiser said. “He loved your girls and was devastated when Violet died.” He strode forward with everyone following.
Blaze’s head jerked up when he saw them approach. He looked like he’d been caught shoplifting priceless jewels and was about to get thrown in the slammer.
Claire placed a hand on her father’s arm. “Dad, you’re the one who leaves roses for Violet?”
Blaze shuffled his feet, looking terribly embarrassed. “Well, somebody has to do it.”
“That’s my job. Not yours,” Hubert said with a scowl.
Ivy gave her father a sharp look. She regarded Blaze, her expression softening. “Thank you. I had no idea you were the mystery flower man.”
Blaze gave a half shrug and stared at the ground.
“Isn’t this wonderful that we’re all together?” Bruiser’s face radiated joy. He turned to Blaze and asked, “Remember when you were a freshman and the other kids would make fun of how skinny you were?”
Blaze drew his eyebrows together, looking like an angry bull.
“And Hubert was the only one who would stand up for you. In fact, he convinced you to try out for the football team, and it was there that you discovered you could run faster than the wind.”
Bruiser turned to Hubert. “And remember when you were flunking algebra, and Blaze tutored you almost every night for months?”
“What are you getting at?” Hubert asked.
“Isn’t it time to bury the hatchet? Kurt agrees, and now Ivy and Claire are together.”
Blaze turned to Claire. “You’re what?”
Claire put an arm around Ivy’s shoulders. “We’re in love.”
“This is insane.” Blaze huffed.
“I second that,” Hubert said.
Ivy wanted to protest, but she was too shocked that they’d agreed on something, even if it was that she and Claire should separate.
“Don’t you want to thank Blaze for getting roses for Violet?” Bruiser asked Hubert.
Hubert gnawed on the corner of his lip. Finally, he asked, “Why’d you get yellow? That gets dirtier easier.”
Sherry lightly tapped her husband on the arm. “It was Violet’s favorite.”
“Oh. Right. Well, I suppose it was a thoughtful gesture.” Hubert looked like he’d just eaten a sour grape.
“Now see there,” Bruiser said. “That’s something you two have in common.”
Hubert and Blaze both said, “What?”
“Violet. You both loved that beautiful, adventurous, lively girl.”
Ivy wondered how Bruiser knew so much about her sister, and she would have asked if she hadn’t been so shocked by what he said next.
“You two should shake hands.”
Sherry tugged on Hubert’s sleeve and nodded, shooting him a stern look. When he didn’t make a move, she pushed him forward. The two men stood awkwardly facing each other for several long moments before Blaze held out his hand. Ivy held her breath, silently urging her father to accept the offer. After what seemed like hours, Hubert clutched Blaze’s palm, they pumped once, and then darted away in opposite directions.
After everyone had left, Ivy and Claire stood in the cemetery, amazed at what had just happened. Granted, Blaze and Hubert weren’t best buddies again, but at least they’d been civil to one another.
“Wow,” Claire said. “I never thought I’d see those two shake hands.”
“Do you think it’s the start of a reconciliation?”
“Maybe. I hope so.”
Ivy wrapped her arms around Claire’s waist. “Let’s not think about our folks anymore. This is what’s important.” She rose on her t
iptoes and kissed the woman of her dreams.
Epilogue
One year later
Claire put the finishing touches on a new painting and stepped back to scrutinize her work. This one was going to the Allister Ainsworth Gallery in New Orleans, since they’d already sold most of what she’d given them. The Sky and Sea exhibit had been a big hit, and Claire had been shocked when just one piece had sold for thousands of dollars. She wiped paint off her hands with a nearby rag and eyeballed her surroundings. It had been almost a year, but Claire still felt giddy that she owned an art gallery planted smack-dab between Blaze’s and Hubert’s hot-sauce stores in St. Augustine. When the Beignet Bakery had gone up for sale, Claire had grabbed it, since the location was perfect. She’d cashed in her pension at GCC, gladly handed the reins to Preston, and never looked back. After falling in love with Ivy, she’d soon realized the most important thing in life was the amount of happiness one experiences, not the money or the title. And Ivy and painting made Claire happy.
Myra emerged from the storeroom carrying a broom. Claire had hired her to do odds and ends around the studio. She’d handled the responsibility well and even made enough to get a room in a boarding house but still preferred sleeping next to the St. Augustine statue.
“Hey, Myra, can you clean these brushes in turpentine?” Claire asked.
“That stuff stinks,” she said, sweeping the floor.
“It does, but it’s the only thing that works.” Claire took her paint-splattered apron off and washed her hands. “Remember, we’re closing a little early today.”
Myra stilled. “What for?”
“Ivy and I have plans. It’s an anniversary of sorts.”
Myra cocked her head. “Did you ever thank St. Augustine for getting you two together?”
“Um…” Claire scratched a nonexistent itch on her scalp. “I sorta forgot.”
“That’s okay. I’ll thank him for you.” She resumed sweeping.
Claire was surprised when Kurt entered the studio. He’d been supportive of her and Ivy’s relationship and had even helped them move in together at a rental house by the park, but he’d never visited her when Ivy wasn’t present. She was certain that his acceptance of their union had everything to do with the fact that he wanted his sister to be happy and not because he wished Claire to be a part of his life.
“Hi. What brings you in today?” Claire asked, tentative.
“I was hoping you could give this to Blaze.” Kurt handed her an envelope.
“Sure.” Claire turned it over in her hands, wondering what was inside.
Kurt looked terribly uncomfortable, eyes shifting back and forth. Finally, he said, “Well, guess I’ll go.” He rushed toward the door, stopped, and turned around. “Tell Blaze my dad is okay with that.” He pointed to the envelope and left.
What in the world did that mean? Now Claire really wanted to know what was in there. She held it up to the light, but the darn paper was too thick to see anything. There was only one way to find out. She darted out of the gallery and went into the Blazing Chili Pepper to find her father meticulously stacking bottles on a display.
“Hey, Dad.”
Blaze held up a finger and carefully placed a jar of hot sauce on top of the pyramid. Claire resisted the urge to tell him that one accidental bump of the table would leave an awful bloody mess to clean up.
“There.” He stood back and admired the creation.
“I have something for you,” Claire said.
Blaze narrowed his eyes. “It better be a big framed picture like you did for Savoy.”
Claire sighed. Six months later and he was still sore. Claire had painted jars of Savoy’s Spicy Sauce amidst a Louisiana swamp scene for Hubert’s birthday. The goal was to get on his good side, which had worked, considering he’d been a lot nicer to Claire after that, but it had ticked her father off something awful.
“Fine.” Claire groaned. “When it’s your birthday, I’ll do one for you.” She thrust the envelope toward him. “Kurt wanted me to give this to you.”
“What is it?”
“I don’t know. Open it.” She stuffed the envelope into his hands. “He also said that Hubert was okay with it, whatever that means.”
Blaze ripped the paper and pulled out a card. He stared at it for several seconds and then grunted. Claire peered, surprised that it was an invitation to Kurt and Katy’s wedding in a week.
“Wow,” she said. “That was nice of them to invite you.”
Blaze scowled. “It took ’em long enough. Haven’t they been planning it for eight months?”
“This is a big deal. They’re including you in a family event.”
“I suppose,” he said under his breath.
“What do you think? Will you go?” Claire gazed at her father, hopeful.
Everyone had finally come to accept Claire and Ivy’s relationship, and even though Blaze and Hubert had made great strides in reconciling, no one would go so far as to call them friends again. Perhaps they could completely put the past behind them at this event. After all, the feud had begun at Kurt’s wedding sixteen years ago. It only seemed right that they make peace at this ceremony.
“I dunno,” Blaze grumbled. “What should I wear?”
Claire grinned, knowing that if he asked that question then he’d surely attend. “Don’t worry. I’ll help you find something. But right now, I’m late for a date.” She kissed her father’s cheek and left.
* * *
Ivy reattached the back of a gold metal clock and polished it. “Done,” she said to Henny, who was sitting at her desk at the Old-Timer.
“You’re amazing.” Henny smiled. “Hiring you was the best decision I’ve ever made.”
Ivy had forgone attending the college in Philadelphia to accept a position at the antique-clock shop. Claire had said she’d follow Ivy anywhere, but after consideration she didn’t see the point in spending a small fortune for a degree when she’d been offered a job that she already knew she loved.
“Are you telling Claire the good news tonight?” Henny asked.
“I am. I can’t believe I’ve kept it a secret this long.” Ivy beamed. “That reminds me. I need to get going. I’m meeting her in fifteen minutes.”
“Will you get a chance to go through your grandmother’s clocks tonight?”
Ivy slung a bag over her shoulder. “We should have plenty of time. Claire said she’d help. I’m so glad you want to sell them in the shop. I hate that they’ve been sitting in my parents’ attic for decades just gathering dust. It’s such a waste.”
“Clocks are meant to be enjoyed, not locked away.”
“My thoughts exactly.” Ivy had come to love Henny. She’d never met anyone more feisty, outspoken, and thoughtful. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” Ivy said and was out the door.
Ivy’s stomach fluttered with anticipation at the thought of seeing Claire, even though they’d been together that morning. She loved working at the Old-Timer, but her favorite moments were when she and Claire were together. Ivy quickened her pace when she spotted Claire at the dock and practically ran into her arms.
“I missed you,” Claire said, twirling her around.
Ivy planted a soft kiss on Claire’s lips, not caring if anyone was watching them. “Can you believe our first date was a year ago?”
“Hopefully you won’t jump into the bayou this time.” Claire smiled.
“Don’t remind me.” Ivy giggled. “It was completely disgusting.”
“You would have done anything to get away from me.”
“Yes, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t attracted to you.”
“Oh yeah?” Claire displayed a cocky grin and slid her arms around Ivy’s waist.
“Get that look out of your eye,” Ivy warned her. “We’re having dinner and then going to my parents’ house.”
Claire pouted. “Why there?”
“We have to box up my grandmother’s antique clocks so I can take them to the Old-Timer tomorrow.”
“Do we have to do that tonight? I thought we could go back to our place and…” Claire wiggled her eyebrows.
“The sooner we get going, the sooner we can…” Ivy mimicked Claire’s eyebrow wiggle.
“Let’s go.” Claire grabbed Ivy’s hand and darted toward the water’s edge.
They got into the boat, and before Ivy could fully sit, Claire had taken control of the oars and begun paddling.
Ivy threw her head back and laughed. “In a rush, are we?”
Claire stopped rowing and gazed intensely at Ivy. “Do you have any idea how beautiful you are? Sometimes I have to pinch myself to make sure I’m not dreaming.”
“This is as real as it gets, and we’re both extremely lucky to have found each other.”
“If you ask Myra, she’d say that St. Augustine brought us together, rather than luck.”
A grin creased Ivy’s face. “I don’t care if it was him or fate. I’m just grateful to be with you.” She leaned forward and brushed her lips against Claire’s.
Fifteen minutes later they were on the other side of the bayou and walking into Fish in a Barrel. Ivy had reserved a quiet corner booth and requested that a red rose be placed on the table for a centerpiece. They slid into their seats and held hands across the table.
“There’s something I want to tell you,” Ivy said, excited. “I hope you’re not mad that I’ve been keeping it a secret, but I wanted to surprise you.”
Claire tilted her head. “Should I be worried?”
“No,” Ivy said, quickly. “It’s wonderful news.” Unable to wait a moment longer, she blurted, “I’m buying the Old-Timer!”
Claire’s eyes bugged. “What? Seriously?”
“Henny wants to retire but didn’t want to sell to just anyone. My parents are giving me the money they would have spent on my college education.”
“That’s wonderful.” Claire’s lips parted in a smile. “Both of us are going to be business owners. Congratulations, sweetie.” She leaned over the table and gave Ivy a kiss.
After a romantic dinner, they pulled into Hubert and Sherry’s driveway. Ivy turned off the engine and faced Claire.
“You okay?” Ivy asked. “I know my dad can still be hard-nosed sometimes.”