“Luci?”
Luci opened her eyes, saw the blurred figure of her father standing there. She rubbed her eyes clear. “I’m so sorry. I’m so...”
“Oh baby...” It seemed like a miracle when he opened his arms to her. She slid in and his arms closed her in. He was warm and strong and for the first time in her life she felt safe.
“Oh, Daddy, do you think he’ll ever forgive me?”
He patted her back. It was amazing. A dad pat. A real, honest-to-goodness dad pat. It was better than chocolate and almost better than Mickey’s kisses.
“I think you’ll find that men in love will forgive almost anything, baby.” His voice got so low, she almost didn’t hear him add, “Almost...anything.”
25
Luci found the days both too short and too long, but the nights were pure hell. She’d close her eyes and see Delaney fall. See Mickey’s face as he turned and walked out of her life. It seemed a heavy price to pay for setting her face against family tradition. The only bright spot was her dad, and her aunts seemed determined to mess that up. He’d show up at the door and they’d circle her like wagons until she finally put her foot down.
“What is with you? Do you think I don’t know he’s my father? Because I do! And I’d like to spend some time with him!”
They looked at her with pale sad eyes and heaved heart-wrenching sighs. Since her heart was wrenched because of Delaney, it wasn’t too pleasant.
“Don’t you like him? What?”
Miss Weena and Miss Hermi nudged Miss Theo who cleared her throat, hemmed and hawed a bit and finally said, “We don’t want to lose you again, dear girl.”
Luci sank onto the stairs and looked at them in shock. “That’s what this is all about?” They bobbed their buns. “But...why would you lose me?”
“He seems to get what he wants,” Miss Weena muttered. “Even when he shouldn’t.”
“He didn’t get Lila,” Luci pointed out, “and he didn’t even know about me.”
“He did get Lila or there wouldn’t have been a you,” Miss Hermi said with a blush. “And she’s afraid he’d get her again or she wouldn’t have moved to California and taken you away from us.”
“Oh, my dears,” Luci said, trying not to laugh, “don’t you get it? I’m more likely to stay if my dad and I are friends. You should be encouraging him, not discouraging him. If anything takes me away, it’ll be my responsibilities back in Butt Had.”
“I don’t think anyone should live in a place called Butt Had,” Miss Hermi said. “It sounds like an insult.”
“Why don’t you invite your father over for dinner?” Miss Theo suggested. She’d always been a fast study.
Mickey’s world didn’t come to an end the night Delaney died, but it did slow to a crawl through a dark tunnel that seemed like it would never end. He went to work. He put on his dress blues and went to his funeral. Through a fog of guilt, he saw Luci look at him, but he couldn’t make himself walk to her, so he turned and walked away again.
It wasn’t her fault Delaney was dead. He wanted to tell her that, but then he’d have to admit whose fault it really was. His. Only his. He let himself get distracted and a good man, his best friend in the world, was dead. Gone.
It wasn’t real.
It was too real.
He couldn’t deal with it, so he dealt with it by getting busy and moving so fast he didn’t have time to think or feel. But he couldn’t move fast enough to get away from Eddie’s wedding.
He stood next to him holding the ring while Miss Weena strewed her rose petals for the bride in a puce dress he couldn’t have described later if his life depended on it. He shook Eddie’s hand and kissed the bride’s lifeless cheek, then followed them out into the bright, hot sun. He blinked, like a mole emerging after a long winter and felt the first flicker of warmth in his body, a twinge like blood returning to a limb that had been asleep. It hurt. But it was better than being numb.
Almost relieved, he pelted Eddie with rice, then stood there, feeling the sun warm his face as the crowd fanned out for cars and the drive to the reception at the Seymour House. After the reception, Eddie and Unabelle were heading over to Mississippi and the gambling boats. She’d promised not to bet on the Saints anymore if he’d teach her to play poker.
He felt Luci watching him and turned to her.
She looked beautiful and so...sad. He’d never seen her that sad.
He cleared his throat, felt the bitter regret slough away. “It wasn’t your fault.”
Tears started in her eyes. She drew a shaky breath and said, “It wasn’t your fault either.”
“Yeah, well—”
She touched him, stopping his breath and starting his heart pounding. “Delaney doesn’t blame you.”
“Right.” Like he didn’t know that. Delaney wasn’t feeling anything anymore. He rubbed his face. “You going to the reception?”
“Are you?”
“I guess.” He sighed. “I’ll need to look in. For a few minutes. Still not in a party mood, but want to see Eddie in the gazebo.” He managed a grin and held out his hand. “Go with me?”
Luci smiled and he realized just how much he’d missed her. Her smile. Her insanity. Her... essence. His other half. The crazy part.
Like him, she still bore the bruising of Delaney’s death. There were new lines around her eyes and mouth. But beyond that, there was something different about her. Something vivid. As if she’d waked from a long sleep, too.
She took his hand and they turned together.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“I know.” She squeezed his hand and he knew it was going to be all right.
They didn’t talk on the drive, but he noticed Luci kept biting back a smile, as if she had a secret.
“What?” he asked as he helped her out of the car. Her dress, virginal white and more bride-like than Unabelle’s, fell around her calves like foamy waves against a beach. Like a phoenix from the ashes of his grief, he felt love rise up and almost choke him. He wanted to grab her, tell he loved her, make her stay and not ever leave him, but it wasn’t his decision to make. She had to choose to abandon family tradition, take that step into the unknown. He had no idea if she could or even would.
She shook her head, like she’d heard his thoughts, and his heart plunged in his chest until she said, “Wait until we get inside. Then you’ll see.”
“See what?”
But she just shook her head again and pulled him up the walk. Inside he could hear the Hepplewhites bawdy intro.
“Oh, no. Not beefcake. Not today.”
“Trust me,” she said, taking the resistance out of his sails. “Just...trust me.”
Her fingers meshed with his. A perfect fit. Did she realize it? Her eyes glowed a yes, but how good was he at reading her eyes? He let her pull him up the steps and in the door.
It was a madhouse inside. Wall-to-wall important people. Mickey almost recoiled. There was a surge and counter-surge in progress. The women were trying to get into the drawing room to see the Hepplewhites, while the men were trying to get out before they saw the Hepplewhites. Laughing, Luci pulled him between the two forces until they got to the stairs. Like a child, Luci sank down and peered through the banister.
“Look.”
Mickey sat down below her and saw Miss Weena at the front of a bunny hop line that extended back into the dining room.
“What?” He wanted to get her alone, not watch Miss Weena shake her aging booty.
“Wait for it.” Her hand gripped his, as if he might fall if she let go.
Miss Weena led her line toward the drawing room, her fluting voice coming in tiny pants over the noise. “Much nicer when it’s not frozen...”
“Well, I’m glad I didn’t miss that—” he began. Then he saw it. Or rather, saw him. Them. Felt a cold chill run around the over-heated room.
Gracie.
And Delaney.
At the end of Miss Weena’s line.
Luci’s hand
gripping his kept him grounded while his thoughts spun off-center. How could it be? For a long moment, he wondered if he was having a heart attack, but his vision cleared when Delaney gave him that old, familiar, shit-eating grin and called out, “Not cracking up on me, are you?”
Then he and Gracie broke free from the line and he spun her in a circle, both of them laughing as they rose out of the crowd and up through the ceiling. Mickey wanted to call him back. As if he had, Delaney’s head reappeared. “We’ll talk later, bubba. You got some business to take care of.”
Then he was gone. But not gone. It took him three tries before he managed, “Did anyone else...see...”
“No, that was just for us.” Luci sighed. “They’re both so happy, Mickey. Gracie keeps talking about the ‘little life.’ And every night they sneak over to Boudreaux’s to watch the romance channel and smell popcorn.”
“Why...why didn’t you tell me?”
“I didn’t think you’d believe me. Or even talk to me.” She seemed too interested in the carvings on the banister. “And we don’t have a phone...”
“I’m sorry,” Mickey said again.
Her smile lit up his heart as she slid across the stairs and leaned against the wall, stretching her legs out with a sigh. “I know it’s not the same, but it’s something, isn’t it?”
Mickey slid up next to her. “Yeah, it’s something. I don’t think he would have gotten over her. I’ve heard the Seymour women are hard to get over.”
Luci felt her heart speed up, then try to crawl out her throat at the sheer pleasure of being smiled at by him. He’d been so distant for so long, she’d been sure he’d never come back. Now he was here, just inches away and she couldn’t breathe from the look in his eyes. Everything around them slowed and got fuzzy around the edges, like an old romantic movie. The music wasn’t quite right, but that didn’t matter, because everything else was right. The guy. The moment. The smell of cake. It didn’t get much better, she decided with a sigh.
“So, does this mean the Seymour women are making a new family tradition?”
“I don’t know about the other Seymour women,” Luci said, throwing her heart over this fence and hoping he’d catch it, “but this one intends to.” Would he understand what she was trying to say?
He smiled and her toes curled up in her shoes. “I’m glad to hear it.” He hesitated, then said, “Been thinking of making a few changes myself. Giving up the bachelor digs, maybe find something with room for two?”
“What a couple of cowards,” Delaney said from above them.
They looked up to find Delaney and Gracie watching from the upper floor.
“I can see I’m going to have very little privacy from now on,” Mickey said.
“Just tell her you love her and kiss the girl! An Affair to Remember is coming on in a few minutes,” he urged. “Gracie wants to find out if she can still cry.”
“This is the nineties, Delaney,” Gracie pointed out. “Luci could ask him.”
“Well, I hope someone does something...” he broke off as Mickey pulled Luci up and headed for the front door. “Where you going?”
Mickey looked back. “Outside! There’s a magnolia tree that’s perfect for a proposal.”
“Mickey.” Luci dug in her heels. “There’s something I need to tell you before...”
“What?” She saw the dread form in his eyes.
“What I really do in Butt Had.”
“Oh?”
“I’m not a waitress. Or a dancer. Or an actress.”
“You’re not?”
“Well, only sort of. You see, I own half of a Dud ranch.”
“A...what?”
She grinned. “Was just making sure you were paying attention. Actually, it’s a dude ranch, with all the ‘e’s’ intact. As half-proprietor, I do all those things. And something else.”
She was so serious, Mickey felt the first pang of fear. “What?”
“I’m the sheriff.” She gave him a worried look. “I guess being a cop kind of runs in the family.”
Mickey shook his head. “A sheriff?”
“I have a badge and gun and a uniform and everything. Except deputies. It’s a small town.”
“How are they managing without you?” Mickey linked hands with her and pulled her close.
“The highway patrol’s covering for me.
“Well, they’ll have to keep on covering for you after I get you under that tree.” Mickey put his cheek against hers and inhaled as deep as his lungs would let him. “But if you can’t give it up, I hear the NOPD is looking for a few good cops.”
“It’ll be something to do until the babies come,” Luci whispered. “I figure if I’m gonna break tradition, I oughta go whole hog and just blow it outta the water.”
“Ross!” he heard his Captain and Luci’s father bellow.
They jumped apart.
“Dad!”
“Sir!”
“Going somewhere with my daughter, Ross?”
Mickey looked at her and smiled. “Just as far as the magnolia to propose.”
Pryce looked at Luci. She beamed. “How do you feel about being a grandfather, Dad? Think you can handle it?”
He blinked a couple of times, then said, “Give it my best shot, baby.”
He stepped back. Mickey opened the door for Luci to go through, but she stopped in her tracks like someone had shot her.
“Lila!”
Mickey had a feeling he should know that name.
“Lila!” Pryce went for his gun.
Lila. Uh oh. He grabbed Pryce’s arm. “Getting strip-searched is a bitch, sir.”
Pryce gave a low growl.
“I’d hate to have to visit you in prison, Daddy.” Luci grabbed his other arm.
He gave a big sigh. “Oh, all right. She can live.”
Lila, an older version of Luci, only with a softer jaw, stepped into the hall. “Pooh Bear? Is that you?”
As Mickey pulled Luci past her mother he looked back and saw Pryce straighten his tie, a dazed look replacing the murder in his eyes. He looked at Luci, who grinned, shrugged and said, “Where’s that tree, Ross?”
Thank you for reading Do Wah Diddy Die. I hope you enjoyed it. :-) If you’d like more Luci and Mickey adventures, check out the short story collection Do Wah Diddy Delete
Or hop over to my website and check out my series:
Project Enterprise The Big Uneasy Lonesome Lawmen
Browse my complete backlist by visiting my website. :-) I have some stand alone novels, too.
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Also by Pauline Baird Jones
Dorothy Parker Award; First digital book nominated for Romantic Times Reviewer’s Choice Award
A comedy romance suspense novel
Isabel "Stan" Stanley's mother has been hoping a man would fall in Stan's lap. But when a handsome spy dives through the sunroof of her car in a hail of bullets, Stan's sure this wasn't what momma had in mind.
Bad guys beware.
Stan's packing glue gun and she knows how to use it. Sort of.
Excerpt:
When the youthful hallelujahs faded into the frigid halls, I followed the hormonal herd to the kitchen for my earthly reward: the promised hot chocolate fix. At first the brew was too hot to drink, so I wrapped my hands around my cup and let the warmth seep into my chilled fingers. I sniffed, inhaling the fragrant steam of nature’s perfect food. After a time, I blew on the surface, took a tentative sip, then closed my eyes and savored the rich bouquet, the hint of hazel nut—
“Stanley!” Jerome Jeffries, oblivious to the finer nuances of hot chocolate consumption on account of his extreme youth, pulled me to one side. “We got us a
job!”
I guess this is where I admit I play keyboard and sing in a band. Beneath my insignificant chest, lurks a powerful pair of lungs, the better to fuel a fair voice. Another one of God's little jokes, I've always thought, putting all the power where it couldn't be seen.
Jerome, cuter than Val Kilmer, a mere twenty years old, and the guiding light of the band, recruited me not long after I moved home. It wasn’t hard. I let myself be dazzled by visions of jiving to “Wild Thing” or “I Love Rock’n Roll.” I’d save Woolly Bully for the encore…
I know better now.
Jerome wanted to be a crooner like Harry Connick, Jr. or Frank Sinatra, so we played bubble music. I thought we should call ourselves “Sad,” but Jerome liked “Star Dust” better. So did my mother, who pointed out that I was too old for such nonsense. I told her that actually I was too young.
It was for this reason, I greeted Jerome’s announcement of a new gig with some wariness.
“Please tell me it’s not another anniversary?” Didn’t people know the divorce rate was up?
“This is totally not an anniversary.” His mouth curved into a grin that could have taught Tom Cruise a thing or two. My heart may have pit-a-patted a bit at the sight of it.
“It’s a rally in support of the troops of Desert Storm at Grant Park. You won’t believe this, but we’ve been asked to play back-up for the one and only Lee Greenwood.”
I waited a moment, but he didn’t grin again.
“Lee Greenwood. Wow.” I paused. “Who’s Lee Greenwood?”
Jerome laughed like I’d just been witty. Laughing kinked the area around his eyes, his mouth and my mid-section. I sipped my chocolate, the scientific equivalent of pouring gasoline on a fire and then tugged at the collar of my sweater. Perhaps the thermals were a mistake. Tommy, our bass guitarist and a dead ringer for Michael J. Fox, mistook this for a summons and joined us. Okay, so it wasn’t just the dream of playing in a band that made me agree to play bubble music on my weekends. I’m a Baptist, not a saint.
Do Wah Diddy Die Page 26