The Pepper in the Gumbo (Men of Cane River #1)(72)

“Don’t mind them.” Mrs. Olivier gave them both a stern look.

“Hmmm.” Alice responded. She looked half-amused but as she scanned the living room, her smile faded away. She walked to the window and stared at the hole the cable men had cut into the floor.

“What― What happened here?” Her voice was high and tight.

Andy coughed. “Cable. For Internet.” He was still struggling to remove the biscuit from his windpipe.

She turned to Paul, her eyes wide with shock. “You didn’t say he’d be cutting holes in the floor.”

He walked forward, looking for the first time at the cable work. He hadn’t actually been in the room when it had been installed. Fat orange cable wound up from the floor and followed along the wall to the fireplace.

Alice traced it with her steps, walking toward the fireplace where the sixty-inch flat screen was mounted. “How is that staying up there? And the speakers? And those… boxes?” She pointed to all of the equipment. Stepping closer, she peered underneath the screen.

“I guess they’re held on with brackets.” Paul had a very bad feeling that they had done something wrong. He hadn’t thought about the bricks. He should have known better. A stand for the screen would have been better, not screwing brackets into the wall. “Definitely not very elegant, but since it’s temporary there’s no way to hide the cables.”

Standing on tiptoe she looked onto the top of the mantel and sucked in a breath. “You let them put holes in the fireplace?”

Paul stepped up beside her and saw the orange cable stapled up the side of the fireplace mantel, then all along the top. “I guess I should have made sure they used the wireless set up, with the connector plugged in to the TV. Then the cables…” He stopped talking as he met her eyes. They were filled with tears.

“The floor is wide plank, hand-hewn, quartered oak from a grove north of here,” she said, her words spilling out in anger. “The bricks were made by one of the biggest Creole businesses of the day, and we know the names of the men who laid the bricks for this wall. This is a two-hundred-and-twenty year old, cherry wood mantel, imported from France. It was brought here by boat and survived a hurricane on the way. I know it just looks like wood. I know it seemed like none of these things matter because you can just buy another, but they’re important. They can’t be replaced. They’re part of this building’s history. You can’t just,” she hauled in a breath, “cut holes and pound staples in something without asking.”

“I’m sorry.” Paul knew as he said the words it wouldn’t make any difference. He had failed her. She’d asked him to watch the workers. She’d trusted him. He felt sick to his stomach. The damage to the mantel could be fixed, but only in the way that items were fixed as long as no one looked too closely. The floor could be patched but it could never be whole.

He saw her reach for her necklace, and the wave of anguish on her face urged him forward. He desperately wanted to wrap her in his arms. But he was sure that any move like that would be an insult after what he’d just done. The silence in the room was deafening and he couldn’t even look toward the others, knowing his mama’s expression would be utter disappointment in him.

“I’m sorry,” he said again. He rubbed a hand over his face. There was no way to make up for what he’d done and for once, all the money he had didn’t make a difference. What she said hit home, hard. His answer to everything was to throw money or favors at it. But sometimes someone just needed you to pay attention.

He didn’t mind so much that Alice hated his company or his games. He was proud of what he’d accomplished. But now, watching her stand there, trying not to cry, was almost more than he could take. This wasn’t some philosophical disagreement over technology’s role in society. She was really hurt and it was his fault.

***

Alice fought back tears. She shouldn’t have left to go to lunch with Al. She should have stayed and supervised. One bad decision and the cable men had done damage that couldn’t be fixed. Not really, anyway. She was sure she could find someone to fill the holes and patch the wood. But it was one more way she had let down Mr. Perrault’s memory lately.

Sure, Paul was the one who should have been watching, but ultimately, the responsibility was hers. She’d agreed to let him put in cable, just like she’d agreed to the alarm system. Was she making these changes for her, or just because she had a weak spot where Paul was concerned? The previous tenants had mentioned cable and she’d told them it wasn’t possible. They’d lived in the building for two years but Paul and Andy would only be here a few weeks. Obviously, Alice was making decisions without thinking them through. And the Perrault’s beautiful building was suffering as a result.

What was done was done. She needed to shake it off and be a gracious guest. She looked up at Paul and her eyes went wide. He stood there, head down, and hands in his pockets. He looked as if he had run over someone’s kitty. Of all the times they’d argued, he’d never looked upset. Defiant or amused or exasperated. Never like this.

“Hey,” she said, reaching out. She touched his sleeve. “It’s not…” She almost said it wasn’t a big deal, but that wasn’t true. “It’s not the end of the world. These things happen.”

“Do they?” He seemed angry. “Seems like you took care of this place pretty well before I got ahold of it.”