“Do you have any lemonade?”
“I don’t know. I’ll look. How about a sandwich, a chicken leg or some ham and cheese,” Paul said, ripping a chunk of ham off the plate. He stuffed it into his mouth. “I think this is lemonade in the pitcher. Want to try it and see? My housekeeper must have made it.” The detective nodded as Paul whipped out a glass and poured. “So, whataya got?” he said as he fixed coffee for himself.
“What I have, Mr. Brouillette, is so hot I’m afraid to talk about it. I think I found your brother-in-law and your niece. They’re living in Lafayette. I was right about your niece. She has a little boy named Peter. The father changed their name when they moved. That took some tracking. By the father I mean your brother-in-law. They’ve been going by the name of Tullier. Your niece must have a streak of independence in her because she listed her mother’s maiden name on the child’s birth certificate. By the way, she isn’t married.”
Paul waved that aside as being of no consequence. “Are they well? Do they need anything?”
“They live in a small apartment. It looks clean and tidy. The little boy is dark-haired and dark-eyed. Sturdy. He has a speckled dog he plays with in the yard. It’s fenced in. They certainly aren’t rich if that’s what you want to know. Your niece works as a private secretary at a law firm and the boy goes to day care during the day. She drives an eight-year-old Honda. Your brother-in-law works as a security guard at one of the hotels. I spent days of surveillance on the two of them, so I have their routine down pat. Your brother-in-law has a heavy-duty gambling problem. He probably drinks more than he should, too. I think your niece pretty much supports herself and the boy. They had no clue they were being watched. You can go there anytime. I can go with you if you want, even though my job is finished. I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to get results for you. We can settle up now or I can bill you. Good lemonade.”
“I’ll get my checkbook. I don’t suppose you took any pictures.”
“Yes, sir, I took two rolls of film. Zoom lens. Everything is in the folder.”
Paul could hardly wait for the detective to leave. He scribbled out the check and ushered him to the door so fast the man thought his feet had sprouted wings. “Thanks for all your hard work.”
“Good luck, Mr. Brouillette.”
Paul nodded. He literally ran to the kitchen, where he ripped open the folder. His eyes burned when he stared down at the little boy sitting on a rusty tricycle. But it was the picture of his niece that allowed the tears in his eyes to escape. She looked so much like his sister it was uncanny. His mother was going to be so happy. Hell, he was happy. Happier than he’d been in years. His gaze strayed to the little boy with the speckled dog. “He’s a Brouillette,” he chortled happily. “By God, he’s a Brouillette.”
Paul leaned back in his chair. His cup was full to the brim. Life was suddenly so wonderful he wanted to shout and dance and do all the things he’d never done as a kid. All you had to do was persevere. If you did that, you prevailed. He was the living proof. “Thank you, God,” he said, bowing his head.
Paul closed his eyes. His heart told him to go to Lafayette in the morning. His head said wait until the weekend. Maybe Josie Dupré would go with him. Women knew about things like this. Her presence might convince his niece to return with him. He certainly didn’t want to scare his niece in any way. Women were so protective of their children. Yes, the weekend was the best solution. He certainly didn’t want to leave his new firm the first day on the job. Jack wouldn’t mind, but he still wasn’t going to do it. Besides, he needed a few days to think it through, to plan, to hug this news to his chest. After all this time, after all the near misses, the long months and years of searching. His mother was going to be so happy. He could see her face now. Peter. Strong name. Peter Brouillette. Little Pete. Petey. And a speckled dog. A whole little family. He would be Uncle Paul. He felt his chest puff out.
Paul looked at the kitchen clock. Time to shower and shave. He should probably make a dinner reservation somewhere. He stopped in his tracks when he remembered Jack’s words: Ask her to cook something for you. Eggs would be good. He liked eggs at any time of the day. He wouldn’t have to get dressed up. Jeans and loafers. Zip would be all over him; dog hairs would settle. Yeah, yeah, jeans and loafers. Tomorrow he could take Josie someplace special. She wouldn’t mind. That was one of the things he really liked about her. She was agreeable. And nice. Real nice. Really, really nice. And he liked her. Liked her a lot. He really did. If things worked out right tonight, he would tell her just how much. Damn! Life was looking so good he crossed his fingers that nothing would go wrong.
Showered, shaved, hair combed, and dressed in jeans, a Gap T-shirt and loafers, he was ready to go with forty minutes to spare. He settled himself in the recliner and clicked on the television. He watched as Vanna White turned the letters. He closed his eyes and was asleep in seconds.
Paul bolted out of the recliner when he heard his mother’s grandfather clock in the foyer chime eleven times. He looked at his watch in horror. “Shit!” he said succinctly.
He slammed through the house and galloped down the street, around the corner and up the Dupré driveway. He leaped over the picket fence like he’d been doing it for years. There she was, sitting on the back steps under the porch light and she looked, as Jack would say, pissed.
“Ah, Josie. Hey, it’s me, Paul.”
“Ah, Paul. Hey, it’s me, Josie.”
“Look, I’m sorry . . .”
“Save your sorry excuses for someone who cares. Did we or did we not have a date for eight o’clock?”
“Yes, we did, but you see . . .”
Josie stood up. “Do you see this dress? At seven-thirty it was wrinkle-free. It’s now eleven-fifteen and it looks like a dishrag. I spent all last night ironing it. It took me hours. It takes a long time to iron linen. I’ve had it with you, Mr. Brouillette. Take your damn dog and go home. Don’t call me again and don’t bring your dog here either. You know what you can do. You can just kiss my . . . my . . .”
“Your what?” Paul drawled. He was so close he could smell her breath and the other delicious scents emanating from her body. He leaned even closer and lowered his head. In the whole of his life he had never experienced such gentle passion. His knees turned to rubber and he held on to her. When she gasped, he drank in air and kissed her again. When his legs gave out, he lowered her to the step without unlocking his lips from hers. When he finally came up for air, he was the one who gasped.
“Oh, do that again.”
“I can’t. I feel like Gumby. Lady, you are one wild kisser.”
“I know,” Josie said sweetly. “What’s your excuse? I also want to know why you dumped your dog on me.”
“It’s a very long story. I mean it’s really long. I’m hungry. Do you think you could make me some eggs? You aren’t mad anymore, are you? Where’s my dog?”
“Your dog is sleeping on my bed with the door closed. He loves me, you know. I don’t think he’s going to want to go with you.”
“That’s what you think. That’s my dog. He goes where I go. He might love you, but he loves me more. I’ve had that dog since he was a pup. He’s mine.”
“Then go upstairs and get him. Tell him you’re taking him home. He’ll do that under-the-bed thing again. Give it up—he’s mine now. He loves Rosie, and he won’t leave without her.”
“Then there’s only one thing to do.”
“You aren’t taking Rosie, so don’t even think about it.”
“Marry me.”
“Marry you! I don’t even know you. Why would I want to do a dumb thing like that?”
“Because it’s the only solution. That way both dogs will be happy. You kissed me like you knew me. And,” he drawled, “you invited me to kiss your ass. That’s pretty personal if you want my opinion.”
“I didn’t say . . .” Josie sputtered.
“You were going to say it. You were hopping mad. You were right to be mad. I’m sorry. I
can apologize from now till tomorrow, but it won’t change things. Today was a day to end all days. I sat down, closed my eyes, and then it was eleven o’clock. I’m sorry about your dress. Where’d you get it, Taiwan?”
“No, I did not get it in Taiwan. I bought it in a very exclusive store in town and paid a lot of money for it. It looked nice at seven-thirty.”
“You should ask for your money back.” Paul grinned as he headed for the steps. “Are you going to feed me or not?”
“Why don’t I ever win with you?” Josie grumbled.
“Because your heart isn’t in it. You like me, admit it. Are you going to marry me or not?”
Josie looked around the kitchen, at the open door and windows. The scent of lilies of the valley was so strong she felt faint. Her fingers clutched at the pearls around her neck. You trying to tell me something, Mom? “If I agree to marry you, will you be on time for the wedding?”
“I’ll go to the church the day before and wait. Are you saying yes?”
“I think so. I think my mother wants me to marry you. That has to be what it means. Okay, yes.”
“You can explain that to me later. I want to see my dog. Rustle up some food, woman. I’m starving.”
“You can’t order me around. Don’t even go down that road.”
“Josie, do you think you could possibly find me something to eat?”
“That’s much better. I’ll try.”
The minute he was out of sight, Josie twirled around. “Mom, where are you? You wanted me to say yes, right? I said yes. I wanted to say yes. It’s a good thing, right, Mom? Please, give me a sign. Something. I need to know, Mom.”
She heard them on the stairs, the man she’d just agreed to marry and the two dogs. Zip let out an earsplitting bark that sent Josie’s hand to her throat and the pearls around her neck. She watched in delight as the necklace broke and the tiny circles rolled across the floor. She laughed happily as she dropped to her knees to pick them up. She was still laughing when Paul dropped to the floor across from her.
“Why are you laughing, Josie? You just broke your necklace. I’ll buy you a new one.”
“I don’t need a new one. I don’t want one either. Someday I’ll tell you what this means.”
“Promise?”
“Yes, I promise.” Thanks, Mom.
Zip nuzzled Josie’s neck and tried to inch her toward the door. “He wants out.”
“Really.”
“Yes, they’ve been cooped up since seven-thirty. I’d let them out if I were you. Otherwise, you’re going to be cleaning up a mess. I’ll put dinner in the oven.”
“You cooked!”
“Our client slipped and fell on some soapsuds and the food was all prepared. Kitty took most of it to a homeless shelter, but I kept some in case we decided to eat here.”
“So what are we having?” Paul called over his shoulder as the dogs raced into the night.
“We are having a salad of new potatoes and roasted walnuts with warm bacon vinaigrette, beef tenderloin with fresh horseradish and black-pepper crust, an exotic mushroom bread pudding, fresh cranberry compote, and a creole trifle.”
“You did all that? I’m impressed.”
Josie demurred. “I didn’t . . .”
“I know it was for someone else but, hey, I’m getting it. So as far as I’m concerned, you did it for me. Are you going to cook like this every day when we get married?”
“No.”
“I can understand that. In a business like yours you wouldn’t want to cook after working all day. We’ll hire a cook and housekeeper.” He was getting married. He’d just asked the woman sitting on the floor to marry him. Was he of sound mind? Maybe this would be a good time to tell her about getting mugged and his concussion. And, if he was getting married, he needed to tell her about his past and his future. “While our dinner is warming up, I’d like to talk to you, Josie. There are some things you need to know about me. I’d like to get it all out in the open right now. If you want to change your mind, I’ll understand. Let’s have some wine and sit out on that little porch where your office is.”
Josie felt a lump form in her throat. He sounded almost ominous. A chill raced up and down her spine. She reached for a bottle of wine and two glasses on the counter. Confessions were not for the weak of heart. He was right, though: Now was the time to get it all out in the open. She’d let him go first.
It was a beautiful evening, warm and fragrant. Overhead, stars winked and glistened as Josie walked along. It felt wonderful. She wished she could cross her fingers, but she was holding the wine bottle, and the two glasses were in her other hand.
Paul talked steadily as he uncorked the wine. He poured generously. Josie listened, her heart hammering in her chest. She heard his pain, felt it right along with him. At one point, she reached out for his hand and squeezed it. He squeezed back. She let her head drift to his shoulder. When his hand reached up to touch her hair, she felt like crying.
“That’s pretty much it in a nutshell. I was wondering if you would like to go to Lafayette with me on Saturday. I’m prepared to bring my niece and the boy back if they want to come. I thought they could stay at my house until I decide how to handle it with my mother.”
“I’d love to go with you if you’re sure I won’t be in the way. Where does your mother live?”
“In the French Quarter. She lives there with her sisters. She was managing the cornmeal plant, but we’re selling it. I’m hoping this is all going to work out right. If it doesn’t, I don’t know what I’ll do. That’s why I came to you the first time. I wanted to plan a Mother’s Day party for my mother. I was hoping against hope that we would be able to find Nancy in time for the party. In a way it’s a trade-off. At least I think that’s the way my mother is going to look at it. I’ve done this every year for years, hoping it would work out. It never did until now.”
“What . . . what’s your mother’s name, Paul?”
“Marie. Why?”
“I’ve been working with her. She, too, wanted to plan a party for her sisters.” She told him about her visit to the French Quarter and the walled-in garden and about the sisters coming to work for a few hours in the test kitchens. “She doesn’t view it the way you do, Paul. She loves you very much. She’s afraid to make advances to you for fear of rejection. She said you only call when you can fit her into your busy schedule. No woman—I don’t care who she is—likes to be fitted in to someone’s busy schedule. You need to sit down and tell her how you feel. She’ll tell you how she feels, and then you will meet somewhere in the middle. If we’re going to get married and have children, I want them to know their grandmother. I don’t want to dance around my husband and make lame excuses. She’s your mother, and you’ll never have another. Trust me, I know what I’m talking about. You aren’t one of those macho guys who can’t admit you’re wrong, or is too big to let your mother know how you hurt, are you?”
“No, I’m not one of those. How’d you get so smart?”
“I had a great mother. My dad was okay, too. If you let me, I can help.”
“That’s for tomorrow. Tonight is for us.”
“I have news for you: It’s tomorrow already. My watch says it’s ten minutes of one. I’m kind of sleepy.”
“Want to go to sleep?”
“Just like that, go to sleep?”
“Uh-huh. I turned down the bed when I was up there.”
Josie doubled over laughing. “Then Zip is under the covers, and Rosie is on the pillow.”
“Let’s fake ’em out and head for the spare bedroom,” Paul said, drawing her to her feet.
“What about dinner?”
“What about it?” Paul said lazily.
“Uh-huh. I’ll just turn off all the burners and the oven.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
“Yes, it does. Do you think this night would have ended like this if you were on time?”
“Probably not. You need to get rid of that dress—it’s a mess.”
“Want to see me without it?” She heard him suck in his breath, or was that sound coming from her own mouth? “First door on the left!” Josie said, sprinting up the steps.
Nine
Josie woke slowly. She was instantly aware of where she was, of the warm body next to hers and everything that had transpired earlier. She smiled, then opened her eyes. Incredible dark eyes stared into hers. His smile matched her own. His voice was warm and husky when he said, “Good morning”
“This is the first time I’ve seen you look worry-free,” Josie whispered softly.
“That’s because tons of responsibility have shifted off my shoulders. You have a lot to do with it, Josie. Are we really going to get married?”
Josie’s stomach fluttered in panic. “You did ask me. I remember saying yes. That was last night, though. I was a little hot under the collar, and you were chagrined, to say the least. If you want to renege, it’s okay,” she said lightly as she crossed her fingers under the covers.
“Not on your life. When?”
When indeed. “You have something to say about it, Paul. Weddings take some time to prepare. Kitty is getting married in January. We could have a double wedding. Twins do things like that. Or we could go to a justice of the peace. I’ve never been married before, so I’m not sure what the rules are.” With her index finger, Josie played with the dark curls drooping over Paul’s forehead.
“That feels good. How are you at shoulder rubs?”
“Terrible. Unless of course we take turns. This has to be fifty-fifty all the way. We need to be clear on this, Paul.”
“We are. What time is it? Where are the dogs?”
“It’s seven-twenty and the dogs are outside the door. They’ve been whining for ten minutes. What time do you have to be at work?”
“Eight. I think. No one said. Do we have time . . . ?”
“’Fraid not,” Josie said, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. She walked naked into the bathroom and closed the door. She heard Paul groan. She grinned from ear to ear as she brushed her teeth. She sashayed out of the bathroom five minutes later dressed in the worn, frayed, but comfortable robe that she’d had since she was sixteen.
Listen To Your Heart Page 13