I was sitting out on Aunt Bea’s veranda watching the bumblebees buzz happily around the flowers. The air was sweet with the smell of bougainvillea, but none of it was enough to pull me out of my funk.
The night before, Cash and Luc had met me at the park to listen to music and hang out. I’d hoped Cash would present me with something that would finally make us officially boyfriend and girlfriend. Or at the very least I thought he’d mention something about my birthday.
Nope. Not a word. And I sat on that porch swing the next morning, as glum as an oyster, convinced he forgot.
Then I heard the music.
“Sparkle and Shine” echoed down the street.
“That’s you, Maggie,” Cash would say whenever Luc spun the tune. “You sparkle and shine.”
You better believe I hopped up from that swing like the seat was on fire. Running barefoot down the walk, I made it to the front gate in time to see Smurf pulling up next to the curb. The windows were down, the music was blaring, and Cash was sitting in the passenger seat with a grin as big as a full moon and an even bigger bouquet of blood-red roses in his hands.
The second he opened the door, I was through that gate like a flash, throwing myself into his arms. To this day, I still remember the way he smelled. All clean teenage boy, soap and sunshine, and the promise of a bright future.
“Happy birthday, Maggie,” he whispered in my ear.
When I pulled back, I noticed he had a new bruise on his jaw. I wondered what trouble he’d managed to get himself into since the night before. Then I remembered that Bernie Walters’s mom owned the flower shop down the way. I could certainly see Cash going in to pick up the roses, only to have Bernie follow him outside to pop him a good one.
Bernie was a butthead. One of Dean Sullivan’s meat-headed minions.
Then again, Cash had a short temper and sometimes seemed to go looking for fights, so…
Setting me away from him, Cash formally presented me with the flowers. Then he cleared his throat and made sure his expression was appropriately somber. “Magnolia May Carter, would you do me the honor of having dinner with me tonight?”
My heart, aged fifteen full years, pulled a total Grinch move and grew three sizes.
“Now, I don’t know.” I tapped my bottom lip. “I was thinking I’d be busy washing my hair and painting my toenails.”
“Come on, Maggie.” He looked desperate. “I’ve waited forever for you to—”
I didn’t let him finish. Just squealed and jumped back into his arms.
“What’s all this ruckus out here?” Aunt Bea called from the veranda. “And where are your shoes, young lady?”
I let go of Cash like he was a hot potato and stood demurely by his side, peeking through my lashes at Aunt Bea as she held up a hand to shade her eyes from the glare of the morning sun. Vee wandered out to stand beside her. When she saw me and Cash, her brow wrinkled.
Cash cleared his throat. “Miss Bea, with your permission, I’d like to take Maggie out to dinner in the French Quarter tonight.”
“Where do you plan to take her?” Aunt Bea asked.
“I was thinking the Pelican Club.”
Aunt Bea’s immaculately plucked eyebrows arched. “Pretty fancy.”
“I want to do it up right, ma’am.”
That brought a smile to her face. Vee on the other hand? She shook her head and trudged back inside the house.
“Her curfew is eleven p.m. Mr. Armstrong.” Aunt Bea’s tone brooked no argument.
In typical teenage fashion, I argued. “What? But Vee’s curfew is midnight and—”
“And your curfew will be midnight once you turn sixteen,” she interrupted. “Until then, it’s eleven.”
I crossed my arms…or as close as I could come with the biggest, sweetest, prettiest bouquet the good Lord ever saw filling my hands.
“Yes, Miss Bea.” Cash nodded solemnly. “I’ll have her back by eleven.”
“Finally!” I threw my arms around Cash’s neck after Aunt Bea disappeared inside the house. “A real date! And at the Pelican Club! I’ll wear that blue dress you like. And you should wear that button-down shirt with the pinstripes. Oh my Lord! I’m babbling, aren’t I? Cash, I’m just so happy. Happy birthday to me!”
He laughed and rubbed a hand down my back. Chills followed in the wake of his palm.
For the first time, I noticed Luc in Smurf’s driver’s seat. He grinned and gave me a thumbs-up, mouthing, Happy birthday, Maggie May.
Knowing now that he was holding a torch for me back then puts a whole new spin on what he did that day, driving Cash to my house so that we could officially become boyfriend and girlfriend.
Oh, Luc…
“You all alone this morning, honey?” The waitress stops by to check on me, pulling me from my reverie. She’s seventy if she’s a day, with curly gray hair that pokes out from her paper hat and a smiling, round face. She reminds me of Auntie June.
“I’m not supposed to be,” I tell her. Her nametag identifies her as Bernice. “Two more should be coming, but they’re late.”
She looks outside. The rain is sheeting off the roof, creating waterfalls that run into the street and disappear down the gutters. “Weather probably has them running behind schedule. I wouldn’t let it get your gussie up just yet,” she says reassuringly.
“I’m sure you’re right,” I agree, even though a worm of apprehension wriggles through my chest.
“You want me to hold off on the beignets until they arrive?” she asks. “Or are you hungry now?”
“Hold off. I want to make sure they’re still warm when the others get here.”
She winks. “Good thinking. Nothing better than warm beignets. And I should know.” She pats her matronly belly.
“In the meantime, will you do me a favor?” I curl a finger, beckoning her closer. When she bends toward me, I hitch my chin toward the table of girls. “I want to pay for them, but I don’t want to make it obvious.”
She glances at the girls, and her eyes soften. “They’re sweet, aren’t they? So shiny and new.”
“They bring back memories of what it was like to be so young.”
“Too many years have come and gone for me to remember what that was like.” Bernice chuckles. “But I got you, sweetie.” She touches the side of her nose. “Their benevolent benefactor will remain our secret.”
The second she turns away, I give in to the worm of apprehension and frown.
What if it’s not the rain keeping Cash and Luc away? What if Luc regrets what he told me on Halloween, and now he’s having second thoughts about our monthly brunch date? What if Cash is three sheets to the wind, and Luc is trying to sober him up? What if something in Cash’s brain busted loose because of that fight at the bar?
I pull my phone from my hip pocket. But before I can text either of them, the door opens, and they saunter in.
My shoulders sag with relief.
Rain sticks in Cash’s thick lashes and sandy-brown beard stubble. Luc runs a hand through his wet hair, squeegeeing out the water and making his naturally wavy locks curl. They spot me at the same time. Luc’s smile is soft and genuine. Cash’s is more provocative.
Champagne bubbles. That’s the way my blood feels despite the voice that warns me to be careful. A woman never makes good decisions when she’s drunk on life or love.
I motion to Bernice, and she arrives at our table at the same time Cash and Luc take their seats.
“I can see why you were itching for them to arrive.” She wiggles her eyebrows at them. “Haven’t seen such a pretty pair in quite some time.”
“I know, right?” I play along. “Which do you prefer? The dark one with the dimples and the hair? Or the blond one with the pirate’s smile and the jawline?”
“Well, let me see here…” She looks back and forth between them with a critical eye. Cash spreads his arms wide. Luc flashes those darned dimples. “Boy howdy.” She fans herself. “How’s a girl to choose? I don’t suppose you’d l
et me have both?”
I laugh. “They’re all yours. But I warn you, once you get past their pretty packaging, they’re more trouble than they’re worth.”
“I’d be willing to take my chances.” Bernice winks at me, then takes their drink orders.
“I think we’re ready for those beignets now too,” I tell her.
“Coming right out.”
Luc waits until she disappears into the back before saying, “I woulda thought after Halloween, you’d have had enough of auctioning me off like a prized piece of cattle.” He frowns playfully. “But here you are, aiming to sell my hide to Miss Bernice.”
“You should take it as a compliment.” I reach over to pat his hand.
The heat of his skin reminds me of that dance in the ballroom. Which reminds me of what he told me. I pull my fingers away and curl them into a fist in my lap.
He said he didn’t want the truth to change things between us. And hopefully, after some time, it won’t. But right now, it’s new, and it makes me feel…something. Some strange thing between sorrow and regret, with a smidge of worry thrown in.
“Well, I for one do take it as a compliment,” Cash says. “You think our waitress will pay five grand for me? That would go a long way toward the remodel of that master bedroom en suite.”
“And just think.” I grin. “Every time you soak in your tub, you could reminisce back on your time with Bernice.”
“I have always enjoyed the company of older women.”
“Is that why you made me wait until I was fifteen before asking me out?”
Before he can answer, Bernice returns with their coffees and a big plate of beignets. Cash shoves one of the powdery concoctions in his mouth. No sooner does he begin to chew than something over my shoulder catches his eye. When his face hardens, I turn to see who’s coming.
My heart sinks into the soles of my feet.
Sullivan…and a guy who looks like he ate Cash’s father.
“Fancy seeing you three here,” Sullivan says after making his way to our table. His cowboy hat is pushed back on his brow, making him look downright congenial.
Ha! We all know that’s a big, smelly load of BS.
“Son,” Cash’s father says to him.
“Rick,” Cash says, refusing to call him Dad.
From the beginning, I’ve known Cash has no respect for his old man thanks to Richard Armstrong’s less-than-above-board business practices. And I always got the feeling that Rick didn’t treat Cash’s mother well before she died, but I don’t know that for sure. Cash never said anything of the kind. He just said his dad was a real sonofabitch and if I ever needed proof, all I had to do was check out the best friend, aka George Sullivan.
“I’m glad I ran into you two.” Sullivan glances from Luc to me. “I’ve been reinterviewing some of the folks who were at the party the night Dean disappeared.”
My heart, already in my soles, drills down into the floor.
“How about you two come on down to the station with me now,” he adds. “Let’s take this opportunity to go over your statements again.”
A muscle ticks in Luc’s jaw. “Nothing’s changed in ten years. We’re real sorry for your loss, but there isn’t a shred of new information we can give you.”
Sullivan motions for us to stand. “Why don’t you come on with me anyway?”
“You arresting them?” Cash jumps in.
“Stay out of this, Cash,” his father snaps.
“Go fuck yourself, Rick,” Cash replies. “Well?” He turns back to Sullivan. “Are you?”
Sullivan’s nostrils flare so wide I think I might be able to see into his brain. “Not yet,” he mutters.
The café au lait in my stomach turns to pure acid.
“Well, when you do, they’ll make themselves available for questioning,” Cash tells him. “Right now, I figure they’ll choose to invoke their right to silence and their right not to be harassed by the police. I mean, those are still things, aren’t they? We are still living in the good ol’ US of A, aren’t we?”
“Careful, Cash,” Sullivan snarls. “Just because I’m friends with your daddy, and just because you got an alibi for that night, don’t mean you’re in the clear here.”
Cash’s smile is that of an alligator, all teeth and no feeling. “You two have yourselves a super-nice day. Get out and enjoy this beautiful weather we’re having.”
I can tell Sullivan wants to get nasty, but too many taxpayers are in the room watching. He tugs his hat down over his brow and raps his knuckles on our table. “Right.” He nods. “I’ll be seeing y’all real soon.”
After Rick and Sullivan leave, both Luc and Cash reach for beignets.
How can they even think of eating? Every time I see George Sullivan, I feel like puking up my shoelaces.
I don’t care how awful he is, I don’t care how awful his son was, every fiber of my being screams with the truth. The only thing that’s kept me quiet all these years is the need to protect Luc. He was with me that night. He helped me. I’d never forgive myself if he ended up on the wrong side of the law because of that.
Plus, Luc’s right. If past circumstances are anything to go by, Sullivan would twist things and lie to make sure we both suffered for what happened out there in the swamp. He’s proved he’ll do whatever it takes, even ruin the life of an innocent girl, to protect Dean’s reputation.
“So Cash tells me he gave you our list of potential excursions,” Luc says, as if nothing untoward has happened. “Which adventure should we tackle first?”
“Ow.” I rub my neck. “Give me a second. I’m suffering emotional and conversational whiplash.”
He squeezes my arm. “Maggie May, we just gotta put him outta our minds, okay?”
Easier said than done.
Before I can voice that thought aloud, Vee and her Ladies Who Brunch walk in.
Pasting on a smile I hope looks far more sincere than it feels, I sit up straighter as she makes her way over. “Hey, Vee. You look especially pretty this morning. Are those Aunt Bea’s sapphires?” I point to the teardrop earrings glinting in her ears.
“I thought they worked with this blazer,” she says absently. “But enough about me, let’s talk about you, Luc. How was Friday night?”
I frown at Luc. “What happened Friday night?”
“Oh, you don’t know?” Vee grins. “Bachelor Number Twenty here took his date on the town. Sally Renee’s been telling anyone who’ll listen all about it.”
“Wait.” I hold up a hand, staring at Luc. “You already went on a date with Sally Renee? That was fast.”
He shrugs. “I reckoned why put off the inevitable, you know?”
“You sure made an impression on her.” Vee nudges him with her elbow. “She said she didn’t think she had anything more to learn when it comes to…uh…” She lowers her voice. “You know what. But apparently, you taught her a thing or two. Well done, you. If you decide to be part of Aunt Bea’s bachelor auction next year, who knows how high the bidding will go?”
Throwing her head back, she laughs merrily. “Well, it was good seeing y’all this morning. Enjoy your brunch. Bye, Maggie.” She barely spares Cash a glance before joining her friends at the table in the corner.
I keep my smile in place, but it’s brittle. If someone blows on it, my whole face might crack.
Cash punches Luc in the shoulder. “What the hell, dude?”
“Ow.” Luc glares at him incredulously. “What the hell dude me? More like what the hell dude you? Why are you hitting me?”
“I thought we talked about this.”
“No. You talked about it. And it’s fine for you, but I don’t see why I hafta abide by your rules. I’m not the one aiming to—ow! Jesus!” Luc bends and rubs his shin, leading me to presume Cash kicked him under the table.
“I’m sorry.” I lift a finger. “What am I missing? What’s going on here?”
“Nothing,” they say in unison.
I look back and forth between th
em. Neither seems ready to spill whatever mysterious beans they’re cooking up. Doesn’t matter. I’m more interested in Luc and Sally Renee anyway.
“You slept with Sally Renee?” I don’t know why, but the thought is an irritant. Like a wad of gum stuck to the bottom of my shoe, or a splinter festering in the tip of my finger.
Luc scowls at Cash one more time before turning to me and clearing his throat. “A gentleman never tells.”
“Right.” I twist my lips. “Which means the answer is yes. If the answer was no, then the gentleman would tell, because the gentleman wouldn’t have anything to tell.”
He doesn’t say anything, simply stares at me and takes a slow drink of his café au lait.
“Lucien Dubois.” I try to make light of the situation. It’s none of my business, and it shouldn’t bother me, so I convince myself I won’t let it. “All this time you had me fooled into thinking you were this sweet, wholesome guy.”
“I am sweet and wholesome.”
I grunt. “Sounds like Sally Renee might have something to say about that.”
“Don’t you know, Maggie May? There’s good and bad in all of us. We’re all devils and angels.”
Chapter Twenty-three
______________________________________
Cash
Some people learn to dance in the rain. Others simply get wet.
For the last five days, as the rain has continued to come down in sheets, I’ve slowly turned into the latter. Like a bee in a beer glass, I’m pissed off and ready to sting from being stuck inside for too long.
Plus, my head is killing me. I swear some sadistic sonofabitch shoved a steak knife through my cerebral cortex. Then there’s the stench of construction dust, the glare of too many projects still to do, and the constant fear I’ve bitten off more than I can chew with this damned house.
I turn my discontent on Luc. “So how was your second date with Sally Renee?”
From his spot in the folding chair next to mine, he shrugs. “Don’t think you could really call it a date.”
“Right. You’re just letting her use you as a scratching post.”
Volume One: In Moonlight and Memories, #1 Page 20