“What about the booth?” Luc objected. “Promoting our businesses? Wasn’t that the point?”
But Celeste seemed less interested in a booth now that she had a better plan for showcasing her family history. “Whatever you think is best, Luc. You know the hotel business better than me. Mrs. Castille, shall we walk over to the opera house and have a look at the space? Perhaps Miss Savoy would join us.”
“Great idea,” Adele said. “I’ll get my camera and a tape measure. And please, call me Adele.”
Zara popped in, out of breath from playing outside with the Castilles’ Labrador retriever, Bubba. “Mama, can I go to the opera house with Grandma and Mrs. Robichaux?”
Loretta struggled for a reason to say no. Probably Mrs. Robichaux wouldn’t want to be distracted by a small child. But before she could answer, Celeste spoke up.
“By all means, child, come with us. I daresay you can stand to learn a bit more about your town’s history.”
“Oh, I know lots about history, ’cause Grandma is a teacher.”
“Zara, don’t contradict your elders,” Loretta said.
But Celeste was smiling. “I can tell you a few things you would never learn in school.”
“I’ll bet she has a few stories, too,” Vincent said after the trio left through the front door. “In the summers, when the Blanchards and Robichauxs were still using the summer house, I used to hang out with Pierre. We were just little kids, but we found more ways to get in trouble. And your grandmother, no offense, used to scare the bejeezus out of me.”
“You knew my father?” Luc leaned forward in his chair, eyes keen with interest.
“Your father?” Vincent repeated. “You mean Pierre? Oh. I didn’t make the connection. I mean, I knew you were Celeste’s grandson, but I thought you were one of Anne’s kids.”
“I was just wondering what my father was like as a kid,” Luc said. “I didn’t know him very well. He didn’t hang around long.”
“Oh, Pierre, he was a hot-headed one. Always with the big ideas, big plans. Everyone liked him, and he could draw anyone into his schemes. The girls, they especially liked him.” Vincent studied Luc. “You look a little bit like him. Not your coloring. But something about your eyes, and the shape of your chin.”
Luc rubbed his chin self-consciously. “Maybe we should get back to planning the booth.”
Loretta’s heart ached for Luc, for the father he never quite had and the obvious hole it had left in his life. Zara often expressed curiosity about her absent father, and Loretta answered her questions as honestly as she could. But it was only recently that she’d begun to sense a yearning in her, too.
Maybe it was only now that her little girl fully realized what she was missing.
THE PLANNING of the booth went fairly smoothly. Loretta and Luc decided to drape colorful fabric as a backdrop and would each have a banner made bearing their logo. Luc would have brochures and photos on hand, and a raffle for a free weekend stay at the B and B, while Loretta and her father would offer free samples as well as sell their goods. When they’d nailed down the details, Vincent left to tend to his bees.
Luc and Loretta moved to the back porch, where a pillowed porch swing allowed them to take in the setting sun and the muted autumn colors of the woods and the beehives.
Luc wasted no time in pulling Loretta into his arms and kissing her. “I’ve been waiting all day to do that.”
“Me, too. I’m going to tell my parents tonight at dinner that we’re…you know. Seeing each other.”
“You probably won’t have to tell them. Not your mother, anyway. Grand-mère will fill her in.”
Loretta gasped. “I forgot all about that-she saw me prancing around in your bathrobe. But she wouldn’t gossip, would she? Seems like she has more manners than that.”
“She’ll say whatever it takes to make everyone around her as uncomfortable as possible. That’s her mission in life.”
“Really? She doesn’t strike me that way. A little starchy, maybe…”
“Starchy? That woman is so mean-” But he stopped himself. That was his father talking. Pierre had filled Luc’s head with stories about his mother, about how manipulative she was, how cruel. He said she’d virtually kicked him out from the bosom of his family and cheated him out of what was rightfully his.
But after spending time with the Marchands-his Aunt Anne and her daughters-he’d realized how wrong Pierre had been. Anne had grieved for her missing brother and had spent a lot of time, energy and money trying to track him down. And apparently her husband Remy had given Pierre a huge sum of money to pay off his gambling debts in the Cayman Islands, something Pierre had never mentioned.
Luc even had to admit that Celeste was not the monster Pierre had described.
“What is it?” Loretta asked.
“She’s not mean,” Luc corrected himself. “But she is controlling, and she expects people to fall into line behind her no matter what. She might feel it’s her duty to inform your mother of our, um, whatever you want to call it.”
“It’s a relationship, Luc. Does that word scare you?”
He laughed. “No. That just seems such a lofty word when this is all so new.”
“Well, it’s a better word than ‘fling’ or ‘affair.’”
“Definitely.” He kissed her again, but then she forced him back to business. She had lists to go over with him, contacts and phone numbers for those she’d already contacted regarding the VIP dinner. Then she handed him the folder. “Promise me I won’t hear another word about this dinner until the night of the event. Then, I’ll be there with bells on to serve food or wait tables or pour wine.”
“That’s a deal.” Which meant he would be the one coordinating with Melanie. That was okay-his cousins had softened toward him a lot. And the less time Melanie spent with Loretta, the less chance she would get to spill the beans about his past.
“MAMA, GUESS WHAT? Tante Celeste bought me an ice-cream cone.”
Loretta was in her mother’s kitchen getting things started for their regular Sunday family dinner together when Zara burst in, breathless with excitement.
“Tante Celeste?”
“She told me to call her that. She said she has a granddaughter named Sylvie who’s an artist and has red hair, just like me, and that I’m like she was when she was younger.”
“That’s very sweet of her.”
Zara’s gaze hadn’t stopped darting around since she’d walked in the door. “Where’s Luc?”
“He had to go home. He has guests to take care of at the B and B. But I told him either Grandma or I would take Mrs. Robichaux home.”
“You don’t have to. Miss Marjo took her. They got all excited talking about the opera house.”
Well. Celeste was winning fans right and left. “Where’s Grandma?”
“She went to find Granddaddy, I think. What’s for dinner?”
“Roast beef with mashed potatoes.” She put Zara to work making a salad, but Loretta’s hands shook. Had Celeste gossiped about her and Luc? She had no reason to think her parents would disapprove. In fact, they often reminded her that she was still a very young woman and urged her to get out more and socialize. They both seemed to like Luc.
Still, it was unnerving. They’d been so disapproving of Jim, and so hurt when she’d run off and married him without their blessing. So dating was kind of a sore subject, for her, at least. Anyway, she’d wanted to be the one to tell them she was seeing Luc-and to do it without Zara around.
She would tell Zara tomorrow, when Luc came to their house to pick Loretta up for their first official date.
When her parents returned from tending the bees, she watched them closely to see if they knew anything, but they seemed perfectly normal.
She waited until after dessert, when she sent Zara to watch TV. “Don’t I have to help clean the kitchen?” she asked, puzzled.
“Not tonight. You can have the night off.”