The Pepper in the Gumbo (Men of Cane River #1)(45)

She took a small photo from the front cover of her Bible and held it up. Mama and Papa smiled up from a porch swing, their arms wrapped around each other. Alice stared at their faces, letting their happiness ease the ache in her chest. They’d had a good life, surrounded by two of the largest Creole families in Cane River. Alice remembered family reunion  s that went on for days and days, with music and food to rival the festival that blared outside. She remembered her Mama’s green eyes and her Papa’s singing voice. She remembered how they whispered together in the kitchen and how her Mama blushed when they got caught kissing. Alice wondered if they’d known how blessed they were, or if it was just normal life for them. Day by day, doing what came naturally, loving each other, loving their kids.

When they’d died in that accident, something had changed. Her Mama’s family had blamed her Papa’s people for letting him drink too much that night. Her Papa’s family had blamed her Mama for saying she had to get home to her babies instead of staying the night with his folks.

Alice closed her eyes against the memory of the knock at her mamere’s screen door. It had been almost morning, the pale light of dawn filtering through the sheer curtains. Her brothers always got to sleep on the roll-away cots upstairs while Alice got the divan in the living room. She was the littlest and didn’t mind curling up tight so her feet didn’t dangle off the end. The screen was locked, but the door was left open to the night breeze. Alice remembered the creak of the boards as she tiptoed to the door, then the sound of her bare feet as she took off running for mamere when she saw the policeman through the screen.

In time, her brothers were flung far and wide across the country, as if they’d sat down and decided to each take a corner. And by the year Alice turned seventeen, she was the only one left at home with a grandma too old to make sure she was being raised up right. Mr. Perrault and his wife became her family. The bookstore became her refuge. For an angry girl who felt invisible and forgotten, they became her saving grace. She’d been born into a rich culture and a legacy of love. It was up to her to keep it alive.

Alice gently placed the picture back in her Bible and set it by her bed. She touched the rings at her neck, feeling the warmth of the gold under her fingers. She was a quiet woman who didn’t like to leave her store, who preferred her kitties to people. But tonight was different. She would dance tonight for her mama, for her easy laugh and deep green eyes. She would dance for her papa, for his singing voice and how he had an easier time speaking with French tourists than his cousins from Georgia. She would dance for her brothers, who never came home, and for her mamere who knew she was sad but couldn’t remember why. She would dance for the two families torn apart by a terrible decision. She would dance for what was left.

***

“Hey, you think this shirt is okay?” Paul smoothed down the white, Armani dress shirt and stood in front of Andy.

Andy looked up from his reading, confusion on his face. “You’re picking out clothes for Monday’s meeting? I thought you were scanning in that book of Christina Rossetti poetry.”

“I already did. Maybe the blue striped Lauren? That one is tailored. And you think tucked or untucked?” Paul frowned down at himself. “I thought I’d wear jeans, but maybe I should get the Westwood suit. With a nice belt. And the Gucci shoes. Or maybe just the slacks and the vest?”

Andy put down his book. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you mention a clothing brand before.”

“Maybe they don’t all go together. Should the shoes be the same brand as the pants?” Paul felt himself starting to sweat. It didn’t help that it was still at least eighty degrees and the humidity wrapped his skin like damp towel.

“What’s going on? Are we getting visitors?” Andy tilted his head. “Not that girlfriend who giggled all the time. I’m convinced she must’ve had some sort of compulsive disorder.”

“No, nobody’s coming up here. I’m just headed out to the festival.” Paul rubbed his hands together. His palms were sweating. He had no idea how he was going to dance with Alice without her noticing.

“And you’re just going out there alone?” Andy crossed his arms.

Paul shrugged. “I won’t be out late. I’ve got to be up for church in the morning. You already said you could hear it just fine inside.”

He stood up and stretched. “That was before I knew you had some hot date. I’d never let a brother go into battle alone.”

A grin crossed his face. He didn’t want to seem immature, but it would be a lot easier to have Andy along. If Alice didn’t show, he wouldn’t look so silly sitting there by himself. Plus, Andy knew all the tricks to escaping the awkward situations that popped up when folks knew you had more money than the president. He was sure they’d be approached at least once tonight by someone who thought Paul gave out money like business cards. “You’re just coming to watch me make a fool of myself dancing.”

“That, too.” Andy gave him a light punch on the arm and crossed the hallway. “Oh, and keep the jeans. This is some sort of hoedown right? Nobody will be impressed by your three-piece suit.”

Paul nodded. “You’re right. She said she was wearing boots, so I should keep it informal.”

“Who is? Back up a second.” He held up a hand. When Paul didn’t say anything, Andy went on, “Or just start here and let me be all confused. That’s fine. I suppose I’m confused about your social life most of the time and still manage to survive.”