These Sheltering Walls: A Cane River Romance (22 page)

BOOK: These Sheltering Walls: A Cane River Romance
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Chapter Sixteen

           
“The
reason you will not say it is, when you say it, even to yourself,

you will know it is true.”

― William Faulkner

 

 

 

 

            “I
suppose your car is nice enough but nothing rides like a Caddy,” Bix said as
they walked toward St. Augustine’s back yard. “Makes all those potholes just
even out. Smooth as a new highway. Too bad I didn’t know you, then. I could
have given it to you.”

            Gideon
smiled, imagining himself driving Bix’s enormous green Cadillac. That would
have made keeping a low profile very difficult indeed.

            “It’s
hard to attract a nice lady with a little foreign car like that. You wouldn’t
be havin’ any trouble gettin’ a wife if you had the Caddy,” Bix said.

            He
didn’t know what to say. Somehow he’d given the impression he was on the hunt
for a wife.

            Henry’s
car was parked in the driveway and he wondered if Tom was peppering her with
questions. He hadn’t told Tom that Henry liked her privacy. Now that they were
feet away, he realized he hadn’t really told Tom anything at all. He ran a hand
over his face and wished he could stop at the gate, sending Bix and Ruby on by
themselves.

            “Now,
you just relax and let us handle everything,
sha
.” Ruby reached over and
patted Gideon’s arm.

            That’s
what he was afraid of, but he didn’t say so. “I’m just not much of a talker,
Miss Ruby,” he said. He could see a thin plume of steam and smelled spices in
the air. Smoothing down the front of his shirt, Gideon rethought his plan to
slip away. Maybe he’d stay for just a little while.

            “Who
needs talking when you’ve got that handsome face? You simply look over at her
every so often and smile real big with those dimples you got. Don’t say a
thing. She’ll be done for in no time,” Ruby said.

            Gideon
reached to open the little gate to the backyard. He could imagine Henry’s
reaction if he grinned maniacally across the table without speaking a word.

            “Girls
don’t need smiles,” Bix said. “They like gifts. You can smile all ya like but
if you don’t offer a little token now and then, you’re just a friend. I brought
Ruby a rose every day for a week before she let me give her a kiss and it was
two months before I even got to―”

            “Yes,
sir. I’ll keep that in mind,” Gideon interrupted. He could be wrong and maybe
Bix had a perfectly normal ending to that sentence but he didn’t want to find
out.

            “I
remember those roses,” Ruby said, linking her arm with Bix’s and giving him a
kiss. “It was the sweetest thing anybody had ever done for me. My first husband
wasn’t real romantic that way, bless his soul and may he rest in peace.”

            They
turned the corner and saw Henry and Tom by the pot. Tom was peering into a sack
that probably held the crawfish and Henry was standing a little to the side, as
if unsure whether to come toward them or stay put. She lifted a hand and gave a
little wave. She was so beautiful, smiling shyly at them all, it took a moment
before he was aware of his feet.

            “Give
me a job,” Ruby demanded, giving Tom a kiss and Henry a hug. She held up a
glass jar. “I brought watermelon rind pickles but you wouldn’t let me bring a real
dish so I gotta earn my supper somehow.”

            “My
favorite. And Henry was my sous chef. We’re all done.” Tom pointed to the sack.
“Last step, right here. I rinsed them real good in the cooler before I started
so after I dump the shrimp and these babies in, we’ve got about fifteen minutes
before we eat.”

            “Would
you like some sweet tea, Ruby?” Henry moved toward the pitcher.

            “I
think I’ll get myself a beer from the fridge,” Ruby said with a wink.

            “Oh.
Bix, then?” She held up a glass full of ice. “Tea?”

            “I’ll
get me a Coke over here,
sha.
” He turned to Gideon. “But Gideon likes
sweet tea.”

            “Yes,
ma’am, I do,” he said. Henry poured him a glass. For a moment, she hesitated,
as if unsure whether to deliver it or wait for him to come to her. Just when he
started forward, she seemed to make up her mind and they met in the middle.

            He
took the glass from her and tried to think of a safe topic. It was the first
time he’d seen her without the ponytail and he couldn’t stop staring. The dark
waves softly framed her face, her eyes were almost luminous in that late
afternoon light.

             “You
look beautiful,” he said. A second later he closed his eyes and sighed. Other
than actually mentioning Kimberly, that was probably the worst comment he could
have made. “Sorry.”

            “For
what?” Ruby asked, coming out of the back door.

            “I
dunno,” Bix said, frowning. “He said she was beautiful and then apologized. You
becomin’ one of those feminists, Gideon? The kind who say you can’t a hold a
door for a lady?”

            “No,
it’s fine. I’m not―” Henry started to say.

            “Because
if you can’t tell a girl you like that she’s pretty, then I don’t know what
there is left.” Bix shook his head.

            Gideon
looked at Tom, hoping that he would intervene but Tom just stirred the pot, a
smile on his face.

            “Well,
there’s always roses, right?” Ruby slipped her arm around Bix’s waist. “Pretty
girls can get tired of hearin’ that, I suppose.”

            “Actually,
it was nice of―” Henry said.

            “I
think a movie is a real good way to spend some time with a gal. Some of those
theaters are empty during the matinees and it’s so dark and cozy in there, if
you know what I mean,” Bix said.

            “You
like movies, Henry? Bein’ from a theater family, you’ve probably seen them
all.” Ruby sighed. “I’ve seen
Casablanca
near fifty times. Those love
scenes are so romantic.”

             Gideon
glanced at Henry and started to smile. There wasn’t anything to be done but
endure all the bad advice coming their way.

             “You’re
right, now that I think on it. Telling her she’s pretty won’t win her over. I
bet Henry hears it all the time. And she’s a thinker, just like Alice. Throwing
compliments at her is probably as useful as a steering wheel on a mule,” Bix
said.

            “True.
I remember when Paul was wooin’ Alice. Poor man couldn’t do anything right
until he wired up her apartment for the internet. I think she sure appreciated
that.”

            “Is
that the apartment I have now?” Henry asked. She looked more than ready to get
off the topic of romance. “It’s beautifully preserved.”

            “Yes,
ma’am. They were at each others’ throats. Like cats and dogs. But we could tell
they were in love from the very first moment. It was real clear.” Ruby tugged
Bix toward a chair. “Sit down, hon. You make me feel lazy when I’m sittin’ by
myself.”

            “They
seem to get along so well now.” Henry perched on a stool next to the table and
held her iced tea in both hands.

            “Funny
thing,” Bix said, taking a long drink of his Coke. “Those two didn’t seem to
have anything in common, but deep down, they were just alike. You never know what’s
under the surface.”

            Gideon
wandered over to Tom, relieved that the topic had turned. Henry was listening
to Ruby tell the story of how Paul and Alice fell in love, and Bix was
interjecting now and then to correct her.

            “So,
you staying?” Tom said, his voice barely above a whisper.

             “I
lost my nerve for a minute. This really isn’t so bad.”

             “Let’s
hope the worst is past. They could always start asking about her old
boyfriends. Or current boyfriends.”

             He
could handle the relationship advice, but having it connected to Blue was a
certain kind of painful.  “Sorry we’re late. Bix had to show me his African
violet collection and then Ruby asked me to figure out why they couldn’t get
into their e-mail.”

            “Just
like a good son.” Tom speared a potato with a long fork and held it up. The
steam curled off in wisps. “Speaking of which, Vince and Sally are coming in a
few weeks.”

            Gideon
peered into the boiling water, the bright red tails and claws of the crawfish
waltzing with the vegetables.

            “Austin’s
got a few days off after mid-terms and I thought since it was close to your
birthday, we could all get together,” Tom continued, as if that was a perfectly
normal idea, as if Gideon hadn’t been estranged from his family for the past
seventeen birthdays.

            Stuffing
his hands in his pockets, Gideon said nothing.

            “Vince
says he wants to see that bluegill spot we found so we might take a few hours
on the river while Sally meets up with friends,” Tom said.

            “Austin’s
got a new girlfriend. She seems real nice.” Tom sliced the potato and checked
the inside. “Here’s hoping he finds the one and gets married and has some kids
soon. Sally says out of three sons, she deserves some grandbabies.”

           
Three
sons.
They called him their son even after all he’d done and he wasn’t even
their natural child.  He looked across the little yard to where Henry was
listening to Bix as he told some story that involved a lot of hand motions. Gideon
had what Henry could only dream of, a family waiting to accept him just as he
was.

            Henry
leaned forward, attention focused on the man in front of her. Gideon understood
what Bix was feeling right then as he talked and talked. When Henry looked you,
it was like you were the most interesting person on the planet.

            Tom
nibbled an edge of the potato. “So, I was thinking we could all meet for lunch
and then go out fishing for a bit.”

            “Maybe
so,” Gideon said.

            Tom
paused, the rest of the potato balanced on the fork halfway back to the pot. “Yeah?”
His voice was cautious, as if he expected Gideon to burst into laughter and
tell him he’d been joking.

            “I’ve
been thinking about them lately,” Gideon said. He didn’t know quite how to
explain. He’d been thinking of this family he refused, over and over and over,
when Henry would give so much for a chance at what he had.

            As
if following his train of thought, Tom glanced back toward Henry. He watched
her for a moment and then said, “They miss you.”

            “They
miss the kid I used to be,” Gideon corrected him.

            “Is
it about ready?” Ruby called over. “I could eat the tablecloth.”

            “Almost,”
Tom called back. “I’m gonna have Gideon bring it over while I get the napkins.
I always forget the napkins.” He put his hand on his shoulder and said, “I know
you think I’m always pushing you to see them, but they’re getting older.
Someday it might be too late.” And then he was off toward the house.

            Gideon
took a kitchen towel and wrapped it around the wire handle of metal basket and
lifted. He waited, letting the broth drain for a few seconds. “Watch out, now,”
he called and carried it to the table. Ruby, Bix and Henry leaned back as he
dumped the contents on the newspaper.

            “A
veritable Southern cornucopia,” Bix said, inhaling deeply.

            “Let’s
add a bit more seasoning.” Ruby had the shaker in hand and then paused. “Unless
Henry doesn’t like it so hot. How do you like your crawfish, Henry?”

            “Oh,
sprinkle it on,” she said. Something in her expression caught Gideon’s attention.
Or maybe it was that she actually hadn’t answered the question.

            “Do
you like crawfish, Henry?” he asked.

            “Sure
do. I wouldn’t be at a low country mudbug feast if I didn’t, now, would I?” She
shot him a look that said she knew exactly why he’d asked and he’d better not
say anything if he knew what was good for him. He almost laughed out loud. He
was learning to spot the lies, and somehow it didn’t bother him at all, because
she’d come to dinner anyway.

            Tom
emerged with a pile of napkins and stood at the head of the table. “Bix, you
want to say grace?”

            “Oh,
that’d be a shame, me sayin’ grace with a priest at the table.” But he stood
up, looking pleased. He made the sign of the cross and spoke the traditional
French Creole blessing.

            “Amen,”
he ended.

            “Amen,”
everybody answered.

            “Dig
in,” Tom said and passed a plate to Gideon who passed it to Ruby who passed it to
Bix who passed it to Henry, who sat directly across from Gideon. He looked up
and Henry let out a soft laugh at the circuitous route.

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