The Red-Hot Cajun (35 page)

The life of the friggin’ party, that’s what he had been. He had no idea how he’d gotten home, but he vaguely recalled someone driving him while he belted out one Cajun song after another, in particular
“Parlez-Nous
Boire”
or “Let’s Talk About Drinking.”

So here he was, hungover, at his front door with Tante Lulu when suddenly a strikingly beautiful woman, wearing only his boxer shorts and his Tulane T-shirt, walked toward them from the kitchen. It was Francine Pitre, the woman he had once been engaged to be engaged to.
Son of a gun! How did I hook up
with her?

Tante Lulu took one look at Francine and exclaimed, “I thought you was happy.”

Rene tried to smile but his lips hurt. “She means gay,” he interpreted.

“Thass what I said.”

“I am,” Francine told Tante Lulu.

His aunt must have somehow found out that Francine was a lesbian. He hadn’t told her.

“Then, what you doin’ with this boy? Oh, no! Francine, bless yer heart, I hope you din’t talk Rene into one of them threesome thingees like I read about in one of Charmaine’s
Cosmo
magazines.”

He and Francine both laughed. And, boy, did it hurt!

“I brought him home because he had too much to drink,” Francine told his aunt. “As a friend.”

“Thass a relief. I din’t want him doin’ anything perverted like... more’n usual, leastways.”

“Tante Lulu, what are you doing here?”

“I come to straighten ya out. And doan ya be givin’ me that black look. Ya been wallowin’ too long.”

Ican wallow if I want to.
“I’m all right.”

“No, you are not. Now, go get those groceries outta my car. I’m gonna make ya breakfas’. Then we gonna talk.”

As she made herself at home, and Francine kept laughing, and he stomped out to her pink Thunderbird to get five,
five,
bags of groceries, Tante Lulu called back to him, “By the by, yer brothers is comin’ with a truck to unload yer furniture from yer ol’ place. We’s gonna have us a reg’lar fais
do, do
right here. Ain’t that nice?”

Just super!
Rene’s head just grew bigger. He was pretty sure it might explode.

“One more thing,” she yelled from the kitchen.

Icannot take one more thing. I really can’t.

“Me and Charmaine is takin’ a li’l trip to New York City.”

It felt as if his head did, in fact, explode then.

It was a family affair

Three hours later, Rene’s furniture, such as it was, was in place, half-filling his new home. All thanks to the most meddlesome, endearing family in the world.

The women were in the kitchen preparing an everyday LeDeux-style supper, which meant enough to feed the Confederate army. He and his brothers were out on the deck, watching a proud gator papa-to-be building a nest for its mate out of mud and grass and other yucky stuff. It was a good distance from the house, no reason for concern.

“Why are you all here?” he asked.

“Hah! Where else would we be after the show you put on last night?” Luc said.

He winced. Apparently his hazy memory had been accurate.

“Dancing on the table! Only you would do that.” Remy was laughing as he relayed that information.

“I liked the part where you were lap dancing some babe,” Tee-John interjected. “Can you show me how to do that?”

Rene’s jaw dropped. “Oh my God! Am I facing a sexual harassment lawsuit or something? Who was the babe?”

“I was the babe,” Francine yelled through the window. “And not to worry, there was nothing sexual about it for me.”

Rene should have been insulted, but actually he was relieved.

“You’ve got to get your act together.” Luc put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed.

“I know that, and I will. Yesterday was just a bad day, a bump in the road.”

“Can’t you work it out?” Rusty asked. “Nothing’s hopeless, you know?”

“This is.”

Tsk -tsk -tsk !
he thought he heard someone say from the other end of the deck, but when he looked over there all he saw was the life-size, plastic St. Jude statue his aunt had brought as a housewarming gift.

His hope chest had been burned in the cabin fire, but she promised to put together another one for him.
Oh,
joy!

Before they ate, everyone sat around the table holding hands while Tante Lulu said the grace. “Dear God, bless this food and our fam’ly and friends. And tell St. Jude to help Rene ‘cause he sure is hopeless.”

He groaned, but everyone else just laughed.

Once they started eating, Tee-John asked Francine, who was sitting next to him, “How exactly do lesbians do it?”

Tante Lulu smacked him on the arm with a wooden spoon and said, “Hush yer mouth, boy.” She would probably ask Francine the same question later when they were alone.

“How are the plans going for the birthday party?” Rachel asked. The party was to be held in one week.

“Just great. I’ll tell you everything after we eat,” Charmaine answered. She waggled her eyebrows in some meaningful way, which Rene feared somehow involved him, and added,
“Big
plans.”

“Do you still want me to play? If so, I need to contact the other members of The Swamp Rats.” Rene looked to Charmaine and his aunt for confirmation.

Tante Lulu said, “Iffen you wants to, although yer gonna be mighty busy.”

“I am?”

He could swear that a grin passed around the table.

“Yep, and I still think you oughta wear a tuxedo,” Tante Lulu said.

“Why? Is everyone else wearing a tux?”

His brothers shrugged and looked to Tante Lulu, as if she was the ringleader of this circus.

“Well, mebbe you doan need a tuxedo, but dress nice.”

After the meal and the clean-up, Rene shooed everyone out of his house. He grabbed hold of his aunt at the last minute.

“This was nice of you, but you are not to worry about me anymore. I’m a big boy. I can take care of myself.”

“To me you’ll allus be a little boy.” She patted his hand and reached up on her tiptoes to give him a hug.

“You are not going to New York City.”

“I kin go if I wanna. Besides, I allus wanted to see the Statue of Liberty and the naked cowboy on Forty-Second Street.”

Some combination!
“You are not to go near Val under any circumstances.”

“Why not?”

Because you’ll make things even worse than they already are.

“You don’t even like her.”

“I din’t like her at first, but now I like her.”

He rolled his eyes. “Why do you like her now?”

“Because you love her.”

Invasion of the mind snatchers

Valerie should have been on top of the world. Instead she felt like she was in the pits.

She had a primo job in a primo show that could very well soon rival the best of Court TV. In fact, she’d already had feelers from some of their execs trying to steal her away.

Any day of the week there were cocktail parties and important events she could attend. Two very eligible men had asked her to go out this week alone.

So what did she do?

She worked ten to twelve hours a day and went home alone to eat take-out food, standing up at her kitchen counter. Everything was the same and yet everything was different. She had this odd suffocated feeling when she walked down the street. Her apartment seemed too small. Her co-workers seemed artificial. She knew it was all in her mind, but she couldn’t help herself. She was miserable.

She missed Rene so much.

And not once had he even tried to call her. She knew because it was the first thing she checked on her answering machine when she got home. She jumped every time the phone rang at work or at home.

Of course she hadn’t called him, either. Of course she’d told him not to call her. Of course nothing had changed. Still. . .

She had to be out of her mind.

That’s why when, in the middle of the afternoon, her secretary beeped her to say, “You have company,” she responded in a mindless fashion, “Company?”

“Yes. They talk just like you do. Southern.”

Ithought I got rid of my Southern accent.

“And the guy... whew! Every woman on this floor is fanning herself. The South could surely rise again if they have men like that down there.”

Rene!
was her first thought. She smiled—probably goofily—and said, “Send him right in.” She stood and was about to go around her desk, but immediately sank back into her chair with disappointment.

It wasn’t Rene. It was Raoul Lanier, Rene’s brother-in-law with his wife, Charmaine. And, oh my God, Tante Lulu.

“Surprise!” Tante Lulu said and came up and around the desk to give her a hug.

Surprise didn’t begin to express how she felt. Crushed. Shocked. Puzzled.

“Sorry to barge in on you like this.” Charmaine gave her a little hug and sank down into a chair in front of her desk. “Tante Lulu insisted on coming, and we couldn’t let her come alone.”

Raoul half-sat on the arm of his wife’s chair. Ducking his head sheepishly, he added, “I’m just here for the ride.” And, yes, the man was drop-dead gorgeous in his cowboy hat and boots and tight jeans. She could see why all these city women would swoon over him.
He isn’t Rene, though.

“Oh, no! Did something happen to Rene?” That must be why they’d come all this way, to tell her in person.

“He’s fine.” Tante Lulu was walking around the large office, examining everything from the silver water carafe on the sideboard to the coffee in the high-tech coffeemaker, which she sniffed and seemed to deem inferior.

“Bought himself a house, got a new job, and had a pretty woman sleepin’ over las’ time I saw ‘im.”

Charmaine and Raoul gave Tante Lulu a questioning look, but said nothing. So it must be true.

“Rene is dating?” She could barely get the words out over the lump in her throat.

“Sure. Ain’t you?” Tante Lulu asked, a sly expression on her wrinkled face. The old lady was wearing her going-to-the-city clothes today. Outlandish, as usual. Her hair was a mess of blonde curls. She wore a red pantsuit. Polyester, of course. White orthopaedic style shoes. And she carried a canvas bag decorated with cartoon alligators that proclaimed, Cajun Proud.

“I’ve been too busy to date.”
But I will, you can be sure of that. The two-timing rat!
“What brings you to the city?”

“You,” Charmaine and Raoul said together.

“I wanna see the Statue of Liberty and the naked cowboy before I die,” Tante Lulu replied at the same time.

Uh-oh!
“Are you planning on dying anytime soon?”

“Ya never know. I’m almos’ eighty. By the by, you are comin’ to my birthday party next week, ain’t you?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Considering the circum—”

Tante Lulu shook her head fiercely. “You promised.”

“But the situation was different then.”

“You promised.”

“Look, it would be awkward for me with Rene there.”

“There’s gonna be three hundred people. Surely, a smart girl like you can avoid him if ya want to,”

Charmaine offered, even as her husband gave her a disbelieving look.

“I really want ya to come,” Tante Lulu said sincerely. “Cain’t ya do it fer me?”

“Oh, all right,” she snapped. “But I better not be running into Rene, and I sure as hell better not be seeing some bimbo hanging all over him.”

“He’ll be alone,” Tante Lulu assured her. “And you kin hide from him all you wants.”

They all smiled then, even Valerie. For some reason, a weight was lifted off her.
I’m going back . One
last time. Doesn’t matter why. I’m going back .

“I doan suppose you called Richard Simmons yet?” the old lady asked. “We have a special exercise area set up outside the hall with speakers and everythin’ fer ‘Sweatin’ to the Oldies’.”

That’s just great.

Valerie took off the rest of Friday and spent the afternoon and all day Saturday showing off her city to the three visitors. She did all the touristy things she’d never done herself—Statue of Liberty, Empire State Building, St. Patrick’s Cathedral, Rockefeller Center, strolls down Broadway and Fifth Avenue, and, yes, even a little ogling of the underwear-clad cowboy. She’d heard a few women mutter that they’d rather see Raoul naked than that guy out there. Charmaine just grinned at a red-faced Raoul, as if to say, “This naked cowboy is all mine.”