The Pepper in the Gumbo (Men of Cane River #1)(87)
“Have you checked your computer today?” Paul asked without looking up.
“Funny. But I’m just a little worried about you.”
“Don’t be. I’m fine.”
“And you are a terrible liar.”
Paul heaved a sigh and slammed the book closed. A tiny puff of dust appeared in the sunlight, and the sight of it made his chest ache.
“I did something I probably shouldn’t have, even though I thought it was a good idea at the time, but it actually makes me look like a terrible person.”
“You’ve just described every bad decision I ever made,” Andy said.
“And she’ll find out pretty soon that I’m not a terrible person. Not the way she thinks I am,” Paul said.
“Which is good, right?”
He stared at the ceiling. “How many times can someone say they’re sorry, and you accept that apology, before the hurt feelings don’t go away? Eventually, there are too many misunderstandings and apologies. They start to build up.”
Andy shook his head. “My parents have been married forty-eight years. I don’t think there’s a limit on it if you really love someone.”
“Not if you’ve already decided you’re in it for the long haul,” Paul said slowly. “But when you’re just starting out…” He didn’t finish his sentence. He wanted that long, long future with Alice, where they would weather the petty arguments and bumps in the road and probably a few major failures on each side. But when those things came too soon, before real trust was built, the relationship didn’t have a chance.
Paul stood up. “I don’t even know why I’m thinking about this anymore. Romeo and Juliet, remember?”
“I suppose,” Andy said, but he didn’t seem as sure as he had been before.
Paul’s cell phone rang and he pulled it out of his pocket. “Hello?”
“I’m here!” A high pitched squeal formed the last part of the word.
“Holly?” Paul swiveled and made eye contact with Andy. He’d forgotten to mention she threatened a visit. Andy’s lip curled up in an expression of extreme loathing.
“I’m in Natch- ih- toechez,” she crowed. “I want to stay in a mansion. Where are the mansions?”
“Where are you now?” Paul asked. He hoped she wouldn’t say on the boardwalk somewhere.
“Right outside your door, sweetie! I tried to get up there but you’ve got some big, burly security boys who just won’t let me by.” Her voice had gone high and girlish.
“Be right down.” Paul disconnected. “We’ve got trouble.”
“She’s not staying here,” Andy said. Then he raised his hands at Paul’s expression. “I mean, obviously.”
He rubbed his face and then touched an icon on his phone. “Mama? How fast can you make it to town?”
***
“I’ve always wanted this collection.” Karen turned over the little poetry book and smiled. “I remember reading one of her poems in high school. Didn’t she marry a poet, too?”
“Robert Browning.” Alice handed Karen the receipt and mustered a smile. “Enjoy. The Sonnets from The Portuguese is probably one of the most quoted set of poems. How do I love thee and all that.”
Karen tucked the receipt in her purse. She looked up, a frown line appearing between her brows. “Are you okay? I don’t mean to be nosy, but you seem… sad.”
Alice straightened up. “No, no. Just tired. I didn’t sleep well.”
“Oh, I know. All the people coming in for the ScreenStop opening. I ran into a big crowd of them in Babet’s Café and they were painted blue. I think they were supposed to be some character in the game that’s coming out. I don’t really play video games but I can’t wait for the opening!” She bounced on her toes. “I’ve been dying to get a new iPad and if you buy one there before midnight, you get a hundred dollar gift card.”
Stacking a few papers to the right of the register, Alice kept her expression neutral. “Well, have fun and let me know how it goes.”
“I will, and thanks again,” Karen said, heading to the door. “You should really go. It’s going to be amazing.”
Alice waved without answering. As soon as the door swung closed again, she sank onto the stool behind the counter. She reached up for her parents’ rings and realized they were gone, again. She closed her eyes for a second, imagining the weight of the gold in her hand. They had always been like a quiet, reassuring touch from her parents. No one else knew what they were, no one ever touched them. Except for Paul. The image of him holding the rings in his hand flashed through her mind and she pushed it away. Just like everything else, he had somehow weaseled his way right into the middle, seeking out all her secrets, finding all her weak spots.
Alice took a breath, redirecting her seething anger into trying to decide on her next step. All she could hope for was that the week would pass quickly. She’d called Mr. Crocket, the lawyer. Although he’d insisted that he couldn’t reveal who had paid off Norma Green, Alice asked him to fax all the information to her as soon as possible.
She picked up the phone, and then set it down again. She hated to bother Randy any more than she had, but she desperately needed to know whether the building was hers or not. Surely the land title would have to be signed over before the building could legally change hands. Alice rubbed her eyes. She just didn’t know what to do next. Logic told her that she’d been tricked, and Mr. Perrault’s gift to her was going to disappear same way as everything else she’d ever loved. But a small spark of hope still lived inside. It snuck up on her when she wasn’t looking, bursting into a full fire of wishful thinking before Alice tamped it back down. Smothering that bit of hope was the kindest thing she could do for herself.