The Pepper in the Gumbo (Men of Cane River #1)(91)

They stood there, watching him go. Andy spoke first. “Well, that was pretty powerful stuff. Too bad you never take advice.”

Paul shot him a look. “Come on. We’ve got fish to fry.”

It was true, Bix’s words had touched him, making him rethink what he saw as a hopeless case. The pepper in the gumbo. He hadn’t noticed his life needed anything until she came along, but now he couldn’t imagine it without her. The thought of going back to New York City and his old life seemed bland and cold.

But there was one problem with smoothing things over. Alice was the one who was going to have to eat crow. And she didn’t seem like the type of woman to do that more than once.

***

Alice opened her eyes, then closed them again. Friday morning had never looked so bleak. She lay still, listening to the low thump of bass music from down the block. The grand opening of ScreenStop would be going on all day, culminating in a release party at midnight for the newest game. Alice sat up, prying her eyes back open. She’d kicked her quilt onto the floor in her sleep. Mrs. Gaskell and Rochester were curled at the end of the bed. “Don’t let Jane Eyre see you,” she said, and scratched them both behind the ears.

A long, hot shower did nothing to improve her mood. She leaned into the spray, wishing she could turn back the clock. She hadn’t seen Paul since Tuesday when he’d pulled up in Bix’s green Cadillac. Mr. Crocket still hadn’t faxed her any papers, which just solidified every terrible doubt she had. And soon, Paul would be gone back to New York City and she’d have to fight him long distance. Alice turned around, letting the searing hot water pound against the base of her neck and shoulders. Paul was leaving and the phrase ‘mixed emotions’ couldn’t even begin to describe what was going on inside of her.

She shut off the water and grabbed a towel. A few minutes later, she realized she’d been standing in front of her closet without even seeing her clothes. Snap out of it, she muttered to herself. You’re a stuck duck in a dry pond and no use moping about it. Nothing she could do would reverse what had already happened.

She threw on a pair of black slacks and a green silk top. Breakfast didn’t appeal, so she headed downstairs, peeking out into the hallway to make sure it was empty. Down in the store, she fed the kitties, counting paws and tails, giving each one an extra pat of love. Not Darcy, of course. As she dumped coffee grounds into the machine, she heard the sound of the fax machine starting up.

Her stomach lurched. The store Mr. Perrault had lovingly maintained― the building that had been home to her since she was a teenager― was going to be in someone else’s hands. Now was the moment it would all be confirmed.

Alice walked toward the machine, her legs numb and her pulse pounding in her ears. Papers spewed from the slot. She watched them, sourness in the back of her throat. When the machine went still, she forced herself to reach out a hand and pull the stack from the tray. It was almost too hot to touch. Her fingers trembled as she flipped the pages over.

Scanning the words, Alice’s eyes went wide. The price Paul had paid Norma was three times the price of the building. She shook her head. He must have known that if he offered her the same money, and let her pay off Norma Green, she would have refused. She wouldn’t have sold for any price.

The second page contained so much legalese she had to read it three times. Jurisdiction remains with the current owner, Alice Millicent Augustine, as stated on the property title. The plaintiff, Norma Greene, agrees that she has no further claim to the property…

Alice sat down on the stool behind the counter, reading the paper one more time. Paul had been telling the truth. Her face felt tight with unshed tears. Her first urge was to run upstairs and throw herself in his arms, begging him for forgiveness. But there were some slights that were too large for a simple apology. Accusing someone of stealing your home was one of them.

Darcy jumped down from his spot and stalked across the floor toward the counter. Alice watched him, her body numb, mind turning in on itself, over and over again. She couldn’t grasp how she had been so wrong, so many times. Darcy came around the counter and sat in front of her, green eyes steady.

“What’s wrong with me, Darcy?” Alice whispered, her voice choked with tears. “How can I receive so many good things, and turn them into ashes? Why do I push everybody away?”

Darcy stepped toward her and rubbed his head against her leg.

“I was just trying to do the right thing. I wanted Charlie to be proud of her culture. I wanted the kids of Cane River to keep reading. I feel like I ruined everything.” Her breath hitched on the last word and she raised a hand to wipe a tear from the corner of her eye. “But the harder I held on, the faster everything slipped away.”

She reached down and picked up Darcy, cuddling him close. “When you realized you were wrong, you paid off Wickham and saved Lydia’s reputation. But there’s no beau geste for me, is there?”

She buried her face in Darcy’s fur. She used to be so sure of everything. Her way was right, everyone else’s was wrong. It was simple, really. Until one man walked into her life and she realized that might not really be the case. And between that meeting and the realization was a whole lot of bad behavior on her part.

She’d been petty, jealous, and small-minded. Mr. Perrault would never have treated Paul that way, even though he felt technology was a dangerous tool that was more likely to be abused than to make the world better. Alice had let her personal opinions stand in the way of seeing him as a person.