by Linda Kepner
“I’m not giving the gun back,” Gerry threatened.
“Don’t. But she needs her purse, Gerry. And she needs a chance to clean the gun oil off everything inside,” Bat contributed, adding, “I saw that it was dripping oil.”
Gerry nodded, and left again for someplace.
“Well, crap!” said Bat, sitting down again. “Not so much as a nightgown and a toothbrush?”
“Oh, phooey,” said Bishou. “We can dig up a toothbrush and hairbrush, and you can give her one of your pajama tops. There’s room for two women in there.”
“There is not,” said Bat, grinning.
“Listen to him. And Adrienne will stay in the white bedroom.”
Louis smiled weakly, and looked up from his spot on the floor. “That room has one disadvantage, Adrienne. There’s a bullet hole in it.” He pointed to the ceiling. Then he ducked as Adrienne Bourjois, weeping, very lightly boxed his ears.
Chapter 11
They ate dinner early in the day. Louis said grace, which they often did not do, and then let the conversation wander whither it would. Where it wandered, eventually, was to Paris.
“So were you scared, going up in that old rickety elevator, to the top of the Eiffel Tower?” Gerry asked Adrienne, wide-eyed.
“Oh, no. I had faith in it. It had taken many other passengers before me, surely. But it was odd, to feel it vibrating under one’s feet.” Adrienne regarded Bat. “Have you been there, Monsieur Howard?”
“Call me Jean-Baptiste,” Bat said agreeably. “There are too many Howards here to distinguish them well. Oui, I went once, many years ago. I don’t recall the ride. I just remember looking out at the City of Lights — that’s what they call Paris, you know,” he added to the boys. “It twinkled in every direction.”
“Like stars.” Bishou nodded.
“I have been there, and you make me feel as if I haven’t,” Louis told them. “My interests were restaurants, dancing, the cinema, and the news. You saw an entirely different side of Paris.”
Bishou, sitting at the corner of the table beside him, smiled and said, “We’ll go back some day and visit. You can see it with new eyes.”
Louis smiled at his wife. “I would like that.”
“I work for the Bibliothèque Nationale,” said Adrienne, “as a researcher. Sometimes I work late, and walk home after work. Even from the ground, the lights appear magical.” She smiled at Bat.
“Bishou and I have been there as tourists,” Bat said. “It would be nice to go with a native, someone who really knows her way around. You might have us knocking on your door any day, pleading for a tour.”
“That might be fun,” said Adrienne with a smile. Bishou thought, She’s taken with Bat. I hope he’s up to this.
“You know,” said Bat seriously, “I think it might be.”
• • •
Louis changed into his pajama-bottoms while Bishou put on her lightest gown. They slid into bed as Louis shut off the light. The full moon shone in the window.
Louis sighed. “Embrace-moi.”
“I am so happy to embrace you.” Bishou wrapped her arms around him. “What a day. I am exhausted. I’m certain it must be nerves.”
“Oui. Notice, please, I didn’t faint. I was almost shot and killed, yes, but I did not embarrass myself by fainting. The only thing that could have been worse would be if Etien and Denise had showed up, snorting fire.”
“I was afraid of that, too,” Bishou confessed. “I’m surprised they didn’t do something. If someone asks me tomorrow what the police were doing, stationed a mile from our house in surveillance mode, I won’t be surprised.”
“You think Etien might have called them? That would have been prudent, very like Etien.” Louis sighed and pressed his face into her hair. “We were very fortunate.”
“Most definitely. But if we introduce Adrienne as our sister-in-law, and treat her as a sister-in-law should be treated, I think she will be willing to accept it.”
“I think so, too. Your brothers were wonderful, getting her talking about Paris. And you, telling about volunteering at the public library, and offering to take her on a tour of the university library. How did you know she was a consultant?”
“Twenty-one years as a researcher. That’s a very active field right now. And she’s in the French national library. I’ll bet she’s much in demand as a consultant, actually.”
“Another career woman, like you.”
“In a way, yes.”
“I am going to have nightmares tonight. I hope you are prepared for it.”
“I hope you won’t, but I’m prepared, mon cheri.”
“You and Bat made me think about things that hadn’t occurred to me. Of course, once I married Celie, Adrienne expected to visit as my wife’s sister, an honored guest. Of course she planned to go to parties, go shopping, visit the cafés — all those other happy things that are part of life on La Réunion, things that did not happen when her sister failed to arrive.” Louis sighed. “Those two dull girls were going to have a romantic, happy life, and my money would help a bit, oui. Carola, though — she just wanted to take my money and get away from this dull life, to happiness elsewhere.”
“It didn’t work, did it?”
“It never could have worked, even if it had turned out the way it was supposed to.” Louis nestled against her. “Carola gave all my money to her boyfriend — the man who actually killed Celie. Then he ditched her. That was how I saw her, accidentally, while I was recuperating from my first major nervous attack — she was a sales clerk at a department store, earning pennies because she was broke again. She had been suckered, too.”
“What a circle of misery,” Bishou murmured, stroking him.
“Mm, oui.” Louis was silent for a moment. Then, in a different tone, he asked, “Bishou — what would you have done if she had killed me?”
“Killed you? Mon amour, I cannot even bear to think about that.”
“Answer me, Bishou.”
“There would have been two dead bodies for the coroner to scrape up.”
“I gathered that, from the way you spoke to Bettina and Madeleine. They certainly believed you at once.” He kissed her cheek. “You are not really that vicious, are you?”
“About you, I am.”
“Yes, I wondered.” Louis kissed her cheek again. “Bat, he is the soldier. But he did not question you, either, ma tigresse.”
“We have fought before.”
“You and Bat? Ah. You do not mean with words.”
“No, not with words. Football outside, soccer as they call it here, or American football, tag ball. But Andy and Gerry stay out of our way, and we mop up the field with each other until our anger wears off.”
She felt him chuckle. “And who wins?”
“Bat ought to. But sometimes he concedes victory to me, if I’m angry enough.”
“What makes you angry? I do not know.”
“Bat lied to me about money, once. He said he was all right, when he was actually broke and had put all his money toward some friends in trouble, and finished himself off with my EVU payments. I got a black eye out of that, but I won. He got mad when I went to McGill University in Montreal for a degree interview, because he thought I was running away from problems in America — that was just after he joined the Marines. He sat on me until I agreed to scratch the Canadian universities off my list of possibilities.”
Again, he chuckled. “And did you?”
“Not an issue. None of them offered me as attractive a deal as East Virginia University.” Nor did she admit that she had kept looking in Canada, and she knew he knew it. “But Bat doesn’t try to lie to me anymore, and I try to speak fairly about whatever the topic is on the table.”
Louis stretched his arm across her chest, clasping her breast. “And what of us? We must not fight it out, need we?”
Bishou kissed his cheek. “Oh, non. All you need is to look at me with those puppy-dog eyes, and I will reconsider anything. You are my heart.
”
Louis rolled over, almost on top of her, and sighed, “Ah, oui.”
• • •
Bishou woke in the night, thinking she had heard a voice.
She had. It was Louis, next to her, talking in his sleep. He was trembling. “Non, non. Get out of the way!” Then, softly, he said a name. Not the name she was expecting to hear. “Bishou.”
Softly, she murmured in his ear, “Oui, Louis, je suis ici.”
“Si froid.” So cold. Just what he had said when he collapsed in Virginia — except that he had called for Carola, then. It seemed a lifetime ago.
Bishou turned on the lamp, saw that Louis was still asleep, and dug another blanket out of the armoire. She wrapped it around him carefully, then turned off the light again.
“Bishou.”
“Oui, Louis, je suis ici.”
He was still sound asleep, although his voice seemed pained. “Je t’aime, je t’aime. Ma Bishou, non, non, don’t leave me.”
“This is a nightmare,” she murmured, wrapping her arms around him. “Non, mon mari, I am here.”
He twitched, jumped, and suddenly sat up, gasping. Bishou sat up and turned on the lamp.
Louis looked at her, then at himself and the blanket wrapped around him. “My nerves,” he said. “That is what makes me so cold.”
“I thought so,” she said quietly. “Here, roll over, let me rub some of Mama Jo’s oil on your back.”
“It will make me relax too much.”
“Let us take that chance.”
He set the blanket aside.
“And the pajama bottoms.”
He slid them off, and lay face down. She rubbed oil on his back.
Bishou heard him sob, a small gasp. She reached in her drawer for a handkerchief and gave it to him. “It’s just from relaxing, Louis. Let it out.”
“Non. I don’t like to weep in front of you.”
“You won’t,” she said gently. “This is just part of the muscles relaxing.”
“Merde, you can lie.”
Bishou smiled and kept rubbing his back. “I love doing this to you. Your skin is so soft and warm.”
“I thought I was the sensual one.”
“You are,” she told him, and Louis smiled and closed his eyes. It was a long time before she finished massaging him. She saw silent tears as he relaxed completely.
“You are not trying to arouse me tonight,” he said.
“I want you to get a good night’s sleep.”
“I will be a wreck at work tomorrow. Good thing I got that cigarette shipment ready this morning.”
“Mm, true.”
“Bishou — what are we going to do about Adrienne Bourjois?”
“Rien, mon treasor. Have our meals with her, treat her like family, let her absorb our way of life, let her think. I think she’ll come around.”
“And Bat. Have you seen her look at him?”
“Well? I would rather she look at him than at you.”
He sighed, reached over, and shut off the lamp. “I suppose that as long as she’s not taking shots at me, I should be grateful.”
“We’ll be all right, Louis, watch and see.”
Chapter 12
Breakfast in the morning was the first chance at Dessant normalcy, in a way. It was no longer a wedding day, Saturday, or a church day.
Bishou awoke at the sound of her little alarm clock. It was only six in the morning, but people here started early, while it was still cool. They took a two-hour break in the afternoon, when the heat was at its worst.
She could hear thuds and voices of the boys next door. The Howard boys were lively this morning.
Louis sighed and sat up. “At least I slept the night through,” he said, rubbing his eyes and feeling his chin-whiskers. He staggered into the bathroom to wash up while Bishou changed clothes, and then they swapped places.
As he knotted his tie, he asked Bishou, “What did you plan for the day?”
“I think I’ll need to take Adrienne into town for some cool clothes,” Bishou replied. “Perhaps we could have lunch at Chez Ma Tante, or one of the other cafés.”
“And the boys?”
“If they’re making that much noise already, they’re headed for the beach.”
Louis laughed. “I was planning to take the car.”
“No problem. Adrienne and I will ride the bus.”
Louis opened his billfold, and gave her at least half of the bills in it. “Please plan to be home for lunch. In the afternoon, we must go to the bank.”
“Oh. All right.”
Louis glanced at her, but he was not surprised by her words or tone. “Cherie, you know we must. Also the lawyer, to change my will. However uncomfortable it makes you, I am nonetheless a wealthy businessman and must plan accordingly.”
“I understand,” Bishou answered. Then she asked tentatively, “You can get used to a wife who works, can’t you?”
“Can I get used to being married to a beautiful college professor, you ask? Of course,” he chuckled, bending over to kiss her cheek.
“That wasn’t exactly what I meant. I meant, with a bank account of my own.”
“Oh. We will discuss that at the bank, too.”
“All right,” she said uncomfortably, and left the room as he did.
Louis knocked on the opposite door. “Will you three be down for breakfast soon?” he called.
“All right, Louis, we’ll be there,” Bat’s voice replied.
Bishou smiled and climbed down a flight, where she too tapped on a door. She heard, “Qui est là?”
“C’est Bishou. Please, Adrienne, come and join us for breakfast.”
“Deux minutes.”
By the time they reached the table, Bettina was serving the meal. The Journal de l’Île by one plate indicated Louis’s place. He seated his wife, let her pour his coffee, and sat reading while waiting for the others to join them.
In a few minutes, all the places were filled. Bettina hurried around the table, serving everyone, while they passed things to each other as well. Louis tossed his paper behind him, and joined in.
“How did you sleep, Adrienne?” Bishou asked her.
“Oh, soundly, merci.” She looked down at the drab clothes she wore for the second or third day. “I am afraid I need a change of clothes.”
“I expected that. We’ll go around to Mme. Ross’s, and get you supplied. What about you, brothers?”
“La plage,” said Bat. Beach.
Louis smiled. “Bishou guessed that from the noise.”
Bat grinned. “Yeah, one of those places rents surfboards. Andy wants to try it.”
Adrienne’s eyes widened. “Oh, ma foie! Like Hawaii?”
“Oui, like Hawaii.”
“That could be dangerous.”
“I wouldn’t let them out there if they couldn’t swim,” Bat demurred, “but we’ll probably have sore muscles tonight that we don’t even realize we own.”
“You will, I’m sure. I hope you have a good day,” said Bishou.
Louis glanced at the clock, glanced at his wife, and stood. Bishou stood also, and accompanied him to the front door. She kissed him and nestled against him.
“Ah non, don’t make it more difficult for me to leave than it is already,” Louis murmured. “I will see you at lunch. Au revoir, cherie.” He kissed her again, slowly and gently. She stood in the doorway and watched him climb into the little car and drive off, waving goodbye.
The Howard boys trooped out, carrying towels. Bat kissed his sister. “See you sometime this afternoon. I think we’re headed for Plage Est, but we’ll see where we end up.” The boys kissed her, too, and also left. If Bishou hadn’t had a guest, she would have been tempted to go with them. But there was a guest.
Adrienne was pouring coffee at the dining table. She looked like another person now, different and peaceful. Her face didn’t look hard, her blue eyes were calm, and her hair was rather pretty, brown with gold highlights. She smiled at Bishou, and refil
led her cup, too.
“Merci.” Bishou relaxed into the chair beside her. “I feel like we have just launched the first two assaults.”
Adrienne actually laughed. “You don’t need to entertain me, you know.”
“But I want to, if you’ll let me.”
“I would like to see more of this island,” Adrienne admitted. “If you have errands to run, I wouldn’t mind coming with you. Perhaps I could help.”
Bishou looked up at Bettina, picking up things behind her. “Do you need anything from anywhere, Bettina?”
“No, merci, Madame. I telephoned the greengrocer and the butcher. They will bring things out later today. Do you know if you or Monsieur Dessant will be paying the bills?”
“Non, I don’t know, not yet. That is one of the details I will work out with him later, who will pay the household bills. We haven’t really had time to discuss it.”
“Oui, Madame.” Bettina left with her armload of soiled dishes.
Bishou fixed her coffee and drank thoughtfully.
Adrienne said, “This is your first working day as Madame Dessant, is it not?”
“Oui.” Bishou focused again on her guest.
Adrienne smiled. “Whose first houseguest shows up the evening before with a loaded gun and a passion for revenge.”
Bishou laughed, and felt the weight of the day lift from her shoulders. “Non, non, my crazy brothers were my first houseguests. How can you compete with them?”
Adrienne laughed sheepishly. “And — I confess — this coffee is rather good. I am sorry I passed it up yesterday, in my rage.”
“If there is one thing I have learned, during the past year or two,” said Bishou, “it is about passion. Both the good passion, and the bad.” She patted Adrienne’s hand. “Come. Let’s go shopping.”
“In La Réunion? Can it be done?”
“Sure, in both stores.”
Now, Adrienne truly laughed. They finished their coffee, and Bishou went to the kitchen to tell Bettina and Madeleine where she was going.
The housekeepers were hard at work in the kitchen, and looked up as she entered. “Madame!” said Madeleine, sounding almost relieved.
“A mad weekend, yes?” Bishou asked with a smile.