A Second Chance

“Okay, thanks.” And she fled.

“Well, well,” Celeste said. “Looks like she’s providing you with more than muffins. I hope you’re not flaunting your little floozy in front of the guests.”

“No, ma’am. But she’s not a floozy, and please don’t call her that. She’s my girlfriend.” He liked the sound of that.

“I didn’t know you had a steady girlfriend.”

“It’s a relatively new thing.”

“Mmm-hmm.” She pressed her mouth into a stern line, obviously displeased. Just as he thought, she’d been hoping he was miserable in Indigo. He was making restitution here. He wasn’t supposed to be enjoying himself.

As he took her around and showed her the rooms in the old Creole cottage, though, her disapproving frown faded.

“I had no idea you’d be so good at decorating.”

“Doc helped. He remembered what the cottage was like years ago, so he helped me find furniture and rugs.” Luc had enjoyed spiffing the place up and including little touches he knew the guests would appreciate-like a basket of fresh fruit in the parlor and woolly afghans to wrap themselves in when they sat on the porch on a chilly night.

When Celeste went out on one of the balconies and saw the cypress rocking chairs, she sat in one. “We used to have mint juleps out here on warm days, and mulled wine or cider on cold ones. It was such a wonderful time, especially the summers. We had parties and picnics and boat rides. And on Saturday afternoons all the young people would drive to New Iberia to the movie house.”

Celeste was actually smiling. Luc had never seen her like this. He could almost envision the beautiful young girl she’d once been.

“How long are you planning to stay?” he asked.

“Oh, just a couple of weeks. Maybe until the music festival. I’ve heard so much about it now, since Melanie is involved.”

Luc resisted the urge to clutch his chest. Two weeks! Or longer? God almighty, this was awful.

“Do you even like Cajun music?” he asked.

“But oui. Back in my day there were some good bands. In fact, I had a, er, gentleman friend who played the frottoir in a band.”

Luc didn’t know what a “frottoir” was, but he remembered hearing the word before somewhere.

“There was a little bandstand set up on the lawn in front of the opera house,” Celeste continued, “and they would play every evening, and the young people would dance. The old people, too, come to think of it.”

Man. He had never imagined…

The doorbell rang again. What was he going to do with his guests? He’d been working on converting one of the outbuildings to a suite, but it wasn’t quite ready.

When he went to the door, however, it wasn’t his guests, but Doc Landry. “Hey, Doc. Why didn’t you just let yourself in?” Doc had a key, since he often watched the B and B when Luc was away.

“Oh, well, it just seems more proper to ring the bell when I wasn’t expected. Do you, uh, have a special guest?” And he looked past Luc, searching.

“You must mean Grand-mere. Oh, yeah, she’s here, all right.”

“I thought that was her car leaving just now.”

It was hard to miss Celeste’s car. She had vanity plates that said, “QUEEN C.” Luc couldn’t help grinning. His cousins’ no longer secret nickname for their grandmother was “The Queen.”

Loretta picked that moment to emerge from Luc’s rooms, fully dressed this time, thank God. “Hi, Doc,” she said. Then she whispered, “I hope I didn’t get you in trouble with your grandmother.”

“I’m always in trouble with my grandmother.”

“I need to get back to the bakery.”

“I’ll call you later.” In full view of Doc, he kissed her goodbye. Doc would find out soon enough.

“Well,” Doc said when Loretta had left.

“Don’t give me grief, okay?”

Celeste came down the stairs and smiled broadly when she saw her old friend. “Well, look who’s here. Michel, the years have been kind to you.”

“And to you.” Doc stepped forward, took Celeste’s hand, and kissed it. “You’re as beautiful as ever.”

Michel? Luc wasn’t sure he’d ever been aware of Doc Landry’s first name. Everyone called him Doc. Then Luc remembered where he’d heard about the frottoir. From Doc. Hmm.

Doc lifted the plastic bag in his hand. “Everything we need for mint juleps. Are you game?”

“I haven’t had a mint julep in years. My doctor will have a fit, but I’d love one. I believe I even saw the perfect cocktail glasses in the china cabinet.”

Shaking his head, Luc left his grandmother in very capable hands to see what he could do about the outbuilding. He’d already made the necessary changes to plumbing and wiring. He’d made repairs on the roof, replaced one of the windows, painted, and bought a bed and dresser. He’d installed a claw-foot tub in the bathroom, but he hadn’t yet done a shower conversion. Most hotel guests loved the old tubs, but they wanted to take showers.

He could make the room do, he supposed. He quickly put some linens on the bed and towels in the bathroom, and borrowed a few pictures, knickknacks, and a rug to make it more homey. The results weren’t up to his usual standards, but they would have to do.

When the couple from Mobile finally arrived just before dinner, he explained about the unexpected arrival of his grandmother, who owned the place. Then he showed them the outbuilding.

The woman was delighted with what she called the “rustic character” of the place, but the man was not pleased, until Luc mentioned that he was giving them a substantial discount on the room rate. That solved the problem.

When Luc returned to the main house, he joined his guests on the downstairs veranda, where Doc was serving mint juleps to everyone. He handed Luc a glass.

“Come, sit with us,” Doc said.

“I have a lot of work to-”

“Sit.”

Oh, boy. He dragged up one of the rocking chairs and sat gingerly on the edge, making it clear he wasn’t settling in for the evening.

“You told me you were going to leave Loretta alone,” Doc said without preamble.

“Now, Michel,” Celeste chided, “are you saying my grandson isn’t good enough for this girl?”

This was a switch. Celeste defending him?

“I just don’t want to see the girl hurt,” Doc said. “She’s been through a lot in her young life already.”

A couple of the guests, seated nearby, were eavesdropping. Luc wanted to sink through the veranda. “I’m not sure this is anybody’s business but mine,” he said softly. “But I have to tell you, Loretta and I have reached an understanding. I’m happy with it, she’s happy, and frankly I don’t care too much what you two think.”

“All right, all right, simmer down,” Doc said. “I just want to know one thing. Does she know about your, er, past?”

“No,” Luc admitted.

“Oh, Luc, you have to tell her,” Celeste said. “She has a right to know, especially what with her late husband being a criminal and all.”

It seemed Doc had filled Celeste in.

“I’ll tell her. I just have to find the right time. She’s so busy with the music festival, so stressed out, I don’t want to spring the news that her new boyfriend is a…” He stopped and looked pointedly at one of the female guests who was craning her neck, trying to hear.

“Grand-mere, you won’t say anything, will you?” He imagined Celeste would take great pleasure in relating Luc’s felony record to Loretta. She seemed to enjoy manipulating the members of her family.