by Sylvie Kaye
The tables surrounding the cottage were crowded so he carried their lunches over to the picnic area near the car.
She swung the two small bags of chips in one hand. “Sweet potato chips. I'm so glad they had sweet potato chips."
She was wound up all right. Now she was off on a tangent about chips of all things.
"Aunt Gloria loves sweet potato chips. Don't let me forget to buy another bag to take home for her."
"She can have mine.” If it meant that much to Jilly and the old dame, he'd certainly live without the chips.
"She can?” Jilly reached up on her toes and kissed his cheek. “Oh, Zack, you're too sweet."
That was the end for him. The day was over as far as he was concerned. Done in by a mint julep. He wasn't about to kiss or take advantage of a less-than-alert Jilly.
After he spread their lunch out on the picnic table, she announced, “I can't eat a thing."
"A chip?” He tore open the bag and tantalized her with the cinnamon and sweet potato aroma.
She wriggled her nose. “Suddenly, I lost my appetite."
"Coffee?” he asked, hopefully. “I can get you a cup."
"I'm not thirsty either."
Zack heaved a weary breath. He'd run out of offers. Oh, he had plenty to offer a sober Jilly, but not the Jilly seated across from him at the wooden table.
Her shoulders were a bit pinkish from the sun, and her cheeks red with windburn from the convertible ride, while the rest of her looked minty green around the gills from the julep.
"What time is it?"
"It's almost five o'clock."
"I have to get home. My aunts will be worried."
Not as worried as they were going to be when they set eyes on her. Zack checked her over again. Just great. He was bringing her home sunburned, windblown, and tipsy.
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Chapter Nine
Jilly woke in a pink funk.
A pink percale pillow smothered her slight headache. A pink rumpled duvet girdled her grumbling stomach. Stretching and squinting at the clock, she couldn't believe she'd slept until morning. She must've been pretty tired.
"Holy pink gladiola.” When she flung her arm over her eyes her gaudy sleeve nearly blinded her. The pjs were a Christmas gift from some distant relative. Aunt Gloria must've dug them out from the bottom drawer and helped dress her or they'd never have seen daylight.
She slipped out of bed. The household sounded still so she tiptoed down the hall into the bathroom. What in the heck was she going to say to her aunts? She must've looked pretty motley when Zack brought her home with a buzz on yesterday.
What must they think? What must he think?
She couldn't deal with that now. Pain relievers first. Opening the bevel-mirrored door of the medicine cabinet with a soft creak, she popped two pills and crept into the shower to turn on the taps and gulp the aspirins down with a mouthful of lukewarm water from the showerhead. Her stomach growled its protest.
The force of the water stung her sunburned shoulders, but apart from that felt refreshing. After a quick sprinkle and tiptoeing back to her bedroom, she applied aloe lotion to both her shoulders and nose. Although it was too early for church, she put on her most prim dress, the crisp, navy-and-white linen, hoping to erase yesterday's less than proper image from her aunts’ minds.
A grumble from her stomach reminded her she hadn't eaten yesterday. Slipperless, she padded down the hall to the kitchen where the faint aroma of brandy greeted her.
A teapot, saucers, and cups were left in the sink. They reeked of alcohol. Great, she was driving her aunts to drink. Rinsing the things, she stuck them in the dishwasher, quick, to rid herself of the evidence of her guilt.
While she measured coffee into the percolator, a familiar voice said, “I thought I heard you about, Jilly Boo."
"I'm sorry if I gave you a fright yesterday.” Jilly hugged the dear old lady. Of her three aunts, only Aunt Adele mothered her with hugs or kisses. And chocolate chip cookies when she was younger. “I couldn't resist the convertible ride, and I'd never tasted a mint julep before."
"Now, now.” Aunt Adele took the coffee scoop from Jilly and added a few more heaping measures. “I've had a few convertible rides in my day. Been snookered a time or two as well."
"No?” But Jilly had heard her aunts tease Aunt Adele about how she'd been pursued hot and heavy by many a man in her ‘heyday'.
While donning a blue pinstripe apron over her long cotton nightgown, she gestured Jilly toward one of the kitchen chairs. Once her aunt took over no one was allowed to help, not without an invite anyway.
"Enjoy your youth, dear. Old age seems to last a lot longer than the fun days."
"Oh, Auntie, you're not old."
"No, but I'm getting close.” She filled the pot with water, measured out several heaping scoops of coffee, and plugged it in. “Jilly, about Zack. My sisters asked me to speak with you. We don't want to interfere, but you haven't had a lot of dating experience."
That was what Jilly was trying to remedy. Zack had mentioned stopping by his room after the plantations and she hadn't protested. She'd been hoping to get laid, not drunk.
Her aunt sat across the table from her. “All the men you've dated have been the same type. Polite, mannerly. From the South."
Jilly nodded. Wusses, in other words, to hear Ann tell it.
Her aunt fidgeted with the edge of the black-and-white place mat. “They haven't been as big or as manly as Zachary."
Jilly nodded again. Hunky.
"Don't get taken in by him. He's handsome, but it's cold up North where he comes from and very far from home. I suppose you could buy a warm coat and put us in a nursing home, but—"
"Auntie, I have a plan for my life which doesn't include putting any of you in a nursing home. I intend to get my degree in accounting and pursue a career here in New Orleans. The last thing I'm looking for is a man to mess things up, either from the North or the South."
Or the added responsibilities that came with marriage and a family. Her aunts were more than enough family to take care of for right now.
"Fun dates are fine as long as you keep your head.” Her aunt patted her hand. “You know what they say. It only takes one man to ruin a woman's life."
"My life is safe.” Jilly assured her with a peck to her cheek. She didn't want her aunts losing sleep over her fate or their own.
"I hope so.” Her aunt's smile didn't quite reach her eyes. “Now, what can I make you for breakfast?"
"Waffles.” Besides feeling starved after skipping meals yesterday, Jilly was in a hurry to drop the discussion about men before Aunt Gloria showed up and started in about The Incident and moved on to the tales of all the unworthy males in the family's history, except for their Papa of course.
Before long, the aroma of waffles aroused everyone. Wearing chenille robes, Aunt Vinny's bright blue and Aunt Gloria's navy-blue, they drifted into the kitchen.
After Aunt Adele poured coffee and dished up breakfast, Aunt Gloria asked, “Which plantations did you visit, Jilly?” And Aunt Vinny asked, “How was the weather away from the city?"
Everyone avoided mentioning Zack, which suited Jilly fine.
After a leisurely breakfast, they dressed for church. Aunt Gloria wore black because it was Sunday. She had red cardinals on her hair picks to match the red garnet pin on her dress.
Aunt Adele had on a dusty rose dress and a matching hat that shouted tres chic, if this were still the sixties.
Aunt Vinny donned tan pants and a vest. A matching tan bow adorned her gray curls. She leaned heavily on her cane as they boarded the Plymouth.
Once settled, Jilly drove to Holy Name Church for the eight o'clock mass. Her aunts liked to sit in the same pew every Sunday and getting there by seven-thirty ensured them of their seat.
"Papa always sits here.” Aunt Vinny patted the wooden seat next to her as she did every Sunday, and they dutifully agreed.
Due to a scratchy th
roat Aunt Gloria knelt on the padded kneeler with them instead of singing in the choir.
Silently, Jilly recited her morning prayers before murmuring her thanks for her aunts’ good health and praying for a higher paying job. “If it should happen to be in accounting,” she added, “that would be great."
Ready to sit back, Jilly decided to add her thanks that her headache was gone. After that, she figured she'd better ask forgiveness for wasting time yesterday and not studying. Although she didn't regret the time she'd spent with Zack. He'd been a sweetheart.
She restated her regret and asked for forgiveness for sleeping off the mint julep instead of hitting the books. Satisfied, she sat back.
Then, as she had since she was three, she studied the stained glass windows with their colorful biblical depictions. She'd counted them once when she was younger and the sermon was long and the covet word way over her head. She'd stopped at sixty windows, but had lost her place once or twice.
"Morning,” a male voice whispered near her ear. She peeked over her shoulder. Eric and her aunts’ friend Hannah had taken the pew behind them.
Since the bells hadn't rung to signal the start of mass, Jilly's aunts turned and chatted in loud whispers. “Thank you again for the pleasant outing yesterday, Eric,” Aunt Vinny said. “Thank you for taking my phone call last night,” Aunt Gloria said to Hannah.
Why had her aunt called Hannah after spending the afternoon with her? They hated chatting over the phone. Jilly chalked it up to a church fundraiser. Nothing less serious would have them burning up the lines.
"You're beautiful and well dressed today,” Eric said in a hushed tone, leaning forward further, referring to her remark on her raggedy jeans when they met yesterday.
"So are you,” she teased back. But it was no tease. His dark sports jacket fit him as if tailor-made, and maybe it was.
She'd never seen Zack dressed up, but she'd bet with his physique he'd look exceptional. She pushed him from her mind, deciding to avoid him until after her final exam. He was too time-consuming, mentally as well as in person.
Eric winked. Her aunts gazed at the two of them, smiling. Odd. She at least expected Aunt Gloria to frown at their frivolity in church.
Bells rang. Mass started, and everyone became serious and somber. The aunts were quiet except for the click, click, click of their crystal rosary beads.
An hour later when mass ended, the elderly ladies huddled and bickered.
"What's that about?” Eric nudged his chin.
"As best as I can tell, it sounds like two of the women are in favor of having beignets at Cafe Du Monde, an outdoor cafe,” Jilly said, “and two want pastry instead at Hannah's house. As Hannah no longer bakes, there's also a haggle over what bakery to shop at."
"I'm new in town. Pastry I understand, but am I going to like a ben-yeah?” Eric scowled.
"If you like powdered donuts,” she said. “I warn you, they're like potato chips, it's difficult to eat just one. But that's still up in the air.” She gazed to where the ladies continued to quibble. “That they've narrowed it down to two choices this quickly is remarkable."
His laugh was deep and sincere. “In that case I'm not making any suggestions."
"Smart man.” Jilly learned long ago that butting in only prolonged the decision-making. “So, what brings you to New Orleans?"
"A promotion. I transferred from the company's Mississippi office. So far it's been all work and little acclimation."
"What type of work do you do?” she asked, curious.
"I'm with an auditing firm. I've always been good with figures.” He wriggled an eyebrow.
She wriggled hers back. “And good at flirting."
"That's what I've been told.” He grinned.
"I've been told the same by my teachers, about numbers, not flirting.” They shared a laugh. “Seriously, I'm studying accounting. I need a better paying job to help with my aunts’ needs. One of me isn't enough to go around some days."
"I can see how. The thought of three Hannahs wears me out."
"Talk about wearing out, I work with preschool children."
He rolled his eyes heavenward. “How awful for you."
She laughed. “Working with the children has its rewards, although my paycheck isn't one of them."
"Then auditing's for you. The rewards are strictly financial."
Jilly touched the sleeve of his soft cashmere jacket. “I'll remember that. I plan on certification, eventually.” After a pause, she asked, “Are you staying with your aunt?"
"Gawd, no."
Just then, the verdict came in. The ladies decided to meet at Hannah's place. After Jilly dropped her aunts off, she and Eric were to continue on to the bakery on Magazine Street.
"You'll have to show Eric where the shop is, dear,” Aunt Gloria explained on the drive over to Hannah's.
"He's such a nice man,” Aunt Vinny declared.
"Nice looking, too,” Aunt Adele said. “Don't you agree, Jilly?"
Now why were her aunts singing Eric's praises? Not that they weren't deserved, but the aunts rarely agreed on anything, and especially so quickly or unanimously or on anything so male.
Jilly swung the Plymouth into the carriageway near Hannah's modest, yellow stucco home. Moments later, Eric pulled in behind her in a shiny, silver BMW. The Honda Civic in Honda Town's window lost its shine once again.
"Company car,” Eric explained when he saw her wide-eyed expression. “We handle the dealership's account."
What a dream car. What a dream company. Jilly couldn't wait to dream about working for such a company someday.
After he opened the car door for Hannah, they all skirted around her garden, which burst with aromas of dill, sage, thyme, and rosemary. She often brought herbs over for Aunt Adele's recipes.
After Eric and Jilly helped the ladies into Hannah's cozy living room, they took off for the bakery in his company's BMW. She gave Eric a few directions, then sank back onto the plush, supportive leather to enjoy the ride.
"Does this come in a four-door sedan?” she asked, closing her eyes.
"Yes, roomy enough for three aunts."
"Reading my mind,” she said good-naturedly.
"Uh-huh.” The gears shifted so smoothly, she barely felt the transmission speed up. “What's this Kringle we're supposed to bring back? I figure it doesn't have anything to do with jolly old Kris,” he said. “It's way too early."
"Kringle's a pastry filled with pecans, iced with caramel, and it tastes delish.” She licked her lips.
He punched the gas pedal. “How far away did you say this bakery was?"
"Fifteen to twenty minutes depending on speed and traffic."
In less than an hour, they pulled back into Hannah's courtyard with the Kringle and a half-dozen chocolate chip cookies. The six of them polished off the goodies with tasty coffee, served from a brown-and-beige Drip-O-Later pot. Jilly wondered where she could buy a similar coffeepot for Aunt Adele.
"That was great.” Eric eyed the crumbs left on the plates.
The elderly ladies were too mannerly to eat with their fingers, but surprisingly when Eric and Jilly licked theirs no reprimands were heard from any of the four corners of the table.
How strange. Now that she thought about it, Eric had removed his sports jacket and rolled up the cuffs of his shirtsleeves, and although she wasn't positive—as they hadn't had a male visitor since a distant uncle who used to come by died five years ago—this was a serious breach of manners in Aunt Gloria's eyes.
Normally.
But so far, this wasn't a normal morning. First, the unprecedented talk about her aunts’ worries over Zack. Now, their sudden approval of Eric—who they must view as a southern gentleman, living right here in New Orleans, who hadn't stuck his aunt in a nursing home.
"We were wondering what's on the agenda for you young people this afternoon?” Aunt Gloria asked.
"I'd hoped to find some time to study for my final."
"Hannah and I are
preparing shrimp gumbo,” Aunt Adele tempted, aiming her words at Eric.
"What time's dinner? I'm free until six. Any time up until ten of six is fine for me,” he said.
"Gulping down your meal in a matter of ten minutes will cause stomach ailments.” Hannah's brows crinkled with concern for her nephew.
"Hannah Sweets, I'm used to eating on the run when I'm on the road with appointments."
Hannah blushed. “I've told that boy and told him it's disrespectful to call me Hannah Sweets.” The tone of her voice said she didn't mind at all.
With all the flair of a majordomo, he flung his napkin over his arm. “What can I do, slice or dice? Not to brag, but my roomie's a chef, and I've been in training for a full week now."
"Adele and I don't require help,” Hannah said. “Unless Gloria and Vinny need assistance with the bingo work schedules."
Oh, Aunt Gloria and Aunt Vinny needed help all right. The only time they got along was when Aunt Vinny was ill. During those bouts, Aunt Gloria was too worried and Aunt Vinny too weak to argue.
Aunt Gloria smiled at Eric. “Why don't you help Jilly with her studies?"
"Sure.” Eric rolled down his sleeves and grabbed his coat.
"I couldn't—” Jilly's attempt to let Eric off the hook was cut off by Aunt Gloria, who shushed them out the door. “See you two around five. We don't want Eric to rush through dinner and get indigestion."
With satisfied grins, the ladies all waved them off in what seemed like an obvious attempt to fix her up with a man who wasn't Zack.
"I hate to impose.” Jilly apologized as Eric helped her into the BMW once again.
"I'd rather hang with you.” He laughed. “I love Hannah Sweets, but she has her own friends."
If he didn't mind, she certainly wasn't refusing the free tutoring.
In no time, they were in the parlor cracking the books. Thanks to Eric, she was able to make up for most of yesterday's lost study time. After a couple of hours of questions and answers, he rolled his sleeves up and untucked his shirt. They both shed their shoes and their belts.
"I didn't do well on that last chapter. Let me read it over again.” Jilly wriggled in her chair. “Then I've got to get out of this dress and into a pair of shorts."