Bayou My Love: A Novel Read Online Free PDF

long
enough to pull a chair out from the table for me, like it was a reflex. The
gesture struck me as tender, and then I realized why he seemed familiar.
    “You
were at the funeral,” I said. Even though I’d banished the details from my
mind, at unexpected moments, they would come pouring back.
    He
glanced up from the stack of papers and fixed his dark blue eyes on me. I
remembered those eyes.
    “You
gave your seat to two little old ladies,” I said.
    He
cocked his head and smiled. “You’re the one that ran out in the storm. I was
talking to your friend before she went after you.”
    I
cringed at the memory. I’d been overwhelmed thinking about my mom leaving,
Vergie dying and the possibility of running into my mother there. I’d dashed
out of the church into a thunderstorm and stood on the lawn in the pouring rain
until my friend Kate came out and dragged me to the car.
    “You
cut your hair,” I said. “I didn’t recognize you.”
    He
shrugged. “It’s OK. I didn’t recognize you dry.”
    “I
can’t believe it’s you,” I said.
    “I
believe you had some questions for me.”
    It
was easy to see why Vergie liked him. He was one of those guys who made you
want to bake him a cake, who made you smile at bad pick-up lines. Some people
just have a way about them that makes the world seem a little brighter. Vergie
had also been one of those people.
    “So
you’ve been working for Vergie since you were seventeen?” I asked.
    “Off
and on.” As he leaned against the table, it squeaked under his weight. “Started
out doing odd jobs, then did more repairs when I got older. I’d come by and
check on her a couple times a week and do whatever she needed done.”
    I
watched his eyes to determine if he was lying. I was a good judge of character,
but I’d been wrong once or twice, and it had made me gun shy, particularly when
it came to smooth-talking, good-looking men.
    “How
long have you worked for the fire department?”
    “Six
years.”
    “Why
did you come check on Vergie every week?”
    “She
looked out for me,” he said. “So I looked out for her. It’s what we do around
here.” He handed me the lease. “Here you go.”
    I
turned to the back page and found Vergie’s signature. Indeed, he had paid in
advance. I searched for a clause that would void the lease upon the landlord’s
death, but there was none.
    If
what Jack said was true, how had I never seen him at the house all the summers
I’d visited? He couldn’t have been more than a couple of years older than me,
and I would have remembered a teenage guy hanging around the house—especially
when I was so boy-crazy I could hardly see straight.
    According
to the lease, he’d been renting six months. “What do you do besides fight
fires?” I asked.
    His
fingers traced the stubble on his neck, until they disappeared in the collar of
his shirt. When he spoke, he stared right at me, as if he was reading me just
as carefully. “For work or play?”
    I
wondered if those terrible lines worked on women down here, or if they were
reserved for out-of-towners who could be lulled into anything with a wink and a
drawl.
    “Either,”
I said.
    “Nothing
that’s too embarrassing or impressive, cher.” He half-smiled and opened the
kitchen door, leading me back to the porch. We sat down on the steps. “But
listen,” he said, pulling a cigarette out, “you’ll be safe here with me. And
believe me, if you weren’t, everybody in the parish would know about it,
because everybody knows everybody’s business out here on the bayou.”
    “Think
I could bum one of those?” I nodded toward his cigarette.
    “You’re
in luck… My last pack and then I quit.”
    He
tapped another out, then leaned close as he cupped his hands around the match
and lit the clove. I glanced up and caught his eyes for a moment through the
smoke.
    Clearly
this had the potential for disaster—the kind that had nothing to do with the
house. “Thanks,” I said. “You were