The Pepper in the Gumbo (Men of Cane River #1)(55)

“Paul, why don’t you go get the car while we wait for you in front?” his mama asked. Paul nodded, feeling his stomach drop into his shoes. Leaving his mother alone with Alice was the worst case scenario but he didn’t know how to avoid it.

With a sigh, he trudged off to the parking lot, hands stuffed in his pockets. He loved his mama but she wasn’t known for being demure and quiet. She spoke her mind, especially when she felt her son was on the wrong track.

It seemed most of the congregation was skipping the doughnuts and heading for breakfast. There was already a line of cars backed up at the parking lot exit, waiting for a chance to get onto the road. Paul wondered if Andy would be awake. Maybe he could run interference between the two of them and Alice wouldn’t have to suffer through the third degree. That was assuming she wasn’t getting an earful right that minute. At the thought, Paul doubled his pace, beeping the remote unlock button, slipping off his jacket and angling into the seat.

He’d acted without thinking last night and he couldn’t believe how the situation had gotten more and more complicated. She probably hated him enough as it was, without having to deal with an angry mother bear. Alice was as far from a seductress as could be, but Paul knew how mothers thought. They always believed their child was a saint. His mama was going to give Alice the what for, and make sure she understood that Paul was a good, Catholic boy.

He slid the car out and took a place in the long line of cars waiting to exit the lot. Well, it was a proven fact he was far from perfect. Alice shouldn’t have to pay the price for that. If he could just get over there quickly enough, he could keep that from happening.





Chapter Sixteen


Soon, silence will have passed into legend. Man has turned his back on silence. Day after day he creates machines that increase noise and distract humanity from the essence of life, contemplation, meditation. ― Jean Arp



Parishioners streamed out of the double doors and after greeting Father Carl, a few headed to the hall for doughnuts and strong coffee. As much as Alice didn’t want to face Paul, watching him walk away had filled her with panic. She stood off to the side of the cathedral, arms wrapped around her middle, Mrs. Olivier waiting quietly next to her. The silence between them felt like an accusation. Alice searched through the crowd, hoping someone would come over and rescue her, but there were only a few waves and one fly-by kiss from old Mrs. Gerbier, her second-grade teacher.

As the crowd thinned, Alice waited for Mrs. Olivier to say something. Shame mixed with frustration, and she repressed a sigh. Of course Paul’s mother was curious and wanted to get to know her. She couldn’t blame the woman for wanting to poke her nose into the situation.

Mrs. Olivier tucked her hand into Alice’s elbow and smiled, her eyes the same dark brown shade as her son’s, but the wrinkles around them spoke of years of sun and laughter. “My goodness! There were so many people you couldn’t stir ‘em with a stick. We never came to this church when Paul was little. It was too big for us. It still feels a bit fancy for the likes of little ol’ me. I should have dressed up better.”

“I think you look real nice.” Alice knew when one woman mentioned her looks, the other should offer a compliment. It wasn’t hard to do. It was clear where Paul got his good looks.

She patted her hair. “Oh, my beauty operator made me look like Betty Boop this week. I don’t know why I bother except I’ve been goin’ to her for years. I can’t just stop. That would be downright rude.”

Alice smiled. She could see her dilemma.

“You like to cook?” Mrs. Olivier asked, as if the topics were related.

“I― I do, actually.”

“What do you make? Desserts? My sister has the best peach pie recipe. It’s got a secret ingredient.” She leaned close. “If you’re real nice, I might tuck it in your Christmas card.”

Alice blinked. No words occurred to her. This wasn’t what she was expecting.

“Paul told me your breakfast got him out of bed one day. He says he wandered up and down the block looking for bacon and hash browns.”

“He’s got a good nose,” she said, her lips tugging up. She wondered if Paul had mentioned punching her ex-boyfriend that day, too. Probably not. She turned a little, facing Mrs. Olivier. “He speaks Creole really well. Did he learn it from you?”

“Oui,” she said, pronouncing it “way,” and letting it stretch for a few syllables. “Myself and my family. He wasn’t always real proud of where he came from, but in the last few years, that’s changed a bit.”

Alice couldn’t imagine wanting to walk away from this place and pretend to be something she wasn’t, but she could see how a person could want to come home. “Maybe New York City isn’t everything he thought it would be.”

“Maybe so.” Mrs. Olivier looked up at the sky. “I hope Paul hurries. It looks to be comin’ up a cloud.”

Alice looked up at the sky, watching the thunder clouds building on the horizon. “We’ll be getting a good storm this afternoon, I’m guessing.”

“Love and thunder. They always go together.” Mrs. Olivier winked at her.

“I’ve never heard that phrase.” Alice refused to take the bait. Paul’s mother was going to be nosy after all. She was just easing up to it.