Swamp Happens: The Complete Swamp Bottom Series

by Cora Kenborn

  Laughter rumbled in Babs’ chest, and Daddy tapped her leg in annoyance.

  No.

  All eyes turned toward the open door, and there he stood. All six-foot four inches of tousled black hair, beard, and attitude. He smirked at me like he’d just won the damn lottery, and I glared at him like a rabid dog foaming at the mouth.

  “Friend,” I snorted under my breath. “Yeah, I’ll bet. Friend with double D’s and lips that can suck the chrome off a—”

  “Adelaide!” My mother twisted in her seat with a horrified look on her face, ready to reach across four people and slap me.

  “Sorry, Mama.” So much for decorum.

  “What’s gotten into you?”

  It was a valid question. What had gotten into me?

  I left Sugarbirch a broken, but still refined and classy woman. Three days in Terrebonne Parish, and the bayou had seeped into my skin like a leech, sucking out the culture and infusing me with swamp syndrome. It was the inability to hold back what was truly on your mind, regardless of how crude or tasteless.

  The struggle was real.

  I leaned over to Mama as Zep took a seat at the end of the semi-circle. “What’s he doing here?” I whispered, clenching my fists.

  Mama tapped her index finger against her lips, indicating my voice level may not have been as quiet as I thought. “Zep’s grandpa bought half of Dubois Fishery about two years ago, Addie. When Henry became a partner, they changed the name to DuBlanc Fishery and split the work and profits fifty-fifty.” She shot me an accusing look. “If you’d come home in the last five years, you’d have known that.”

  Ouch.

  “Okay, fine, but why is he here. Why isn’t Mr. LeBlanc representing his share?”

  Mama patted her lips again. “Henry had a stroke last year, poor man. Lost use of the entire right side of his body, so Zep took over the LeBlanc side of the business.” She nodded to him and smiled. “He’s now the Blanc in DuBlanc.”

  I don’t know what possessed me to glance over at him. Maybe I thought he’d be looking at Colonel Sanders. Maybe I thought he’d be texting whatever slut he dropped off before arriving late to Pappy’s will reading. I didn’t expect to see his smug face staring right at me and get assaulted with the same pretentious dimples that haunted me for years after I left Terrebonne Parish.

  Zephirin LeBlanc ruined my high school years. Even with his ridicule and merciless taunting, I still managed to graduate as homecoming queen and head cheerleader, padding my college resume just as I’d planned, so I could get the hell out of this one-horse town for good. But Zep made sure I didn’t leave without one final reminder of why I’d never come back. It was the day I decided I was better than this place and would never get kicked around again.

  So much for that.

  As I stared, he grinned then puckered his lips and shot me a kiss across the room. Revolted, I lifted my right hand and flipped him off.

  “So, I say, I say, I’m just going to read the will and if y’all will hold all y’alls questions until the end, I’d surely appreciate it.” Foghorn adjusted his glasses and squinted at the paper in his hand. “I, Charles Robert Dubois, a resident of Terrebonne Parish, Louisiana, hereby make this will and revoke all prior wills and codicils.”

  I concentrated on the scuff on my patent leather Mary Janes as Zep’s eyes burned into the side of my face. Colonel Sanders rattled on while my cheeks heated. Why the hell wouldn’t he look away? I was a married woman and he was a manwhore. It wasn’t appropriate. Feeling exposed, I jerked at the hem of my knee-length, simple black dress, trying to cover as much skin as I could.

  “I give my private residence at 74 Rosehill Lane to my wife, Ekaterina Kasekov Dubois as well as all the funds in the bank accounts labeled…”

  The staring. Why the hell wouldn’t he stop staring? Did I have something on my face? Oh my God. Did I have a bat in the cave? Of all the things… Jesus, did I have a booger on my face? I rubbed the side of my nose raw trying to feel for random snot.

  “In the matter of my half of the business and financial holdings of DuBlanc Fishery, I bequeath all rights and ownership to…”

  Oh, crap, what if the booger was on my chin? Or on the other side of my face? God…

  “Adelaide Dubois Bordeaux and Savannah Dubois.”

  Wait…what?

  “Um, excuse me, Mr. Carlisle, there must be some mistake.”

  My eyes widened as Colonel Sanders finished the stipulations of Pappy’s will. “No mistake, Adelaide. It’s all right here if you’ll let me finish.” Clearing his throat, he read the last of the will. “Equal division of my rights to the business shall be divided between Adelaide and Savannah with Adelaide retaining all financial and business related decision and executor rights. Savannah will remain a silent partner with monetary rights, however due to a proven instability with finances and sound judgment, will not be allowed a voice in day to day operations.”

  Savannah shrugged. “Makes sense.”

  Panic set in. “But, Daddy!” I turned to him, holding out my hands. “You’re his son!”

  Daddy shook his head and smiled as if he’d expected this all along. “Addie, your Pappy always knew I hated fishing, and I’ve never had any desire to be the boss of anything.”

  “But…” I pulled at my hair, dislodging it from the sensible low ponytail I’d constructed earlier that morning. “There’s got to be some loophole.” I shot a glance back at Colonel Leghorn. “There’s a loophole, right?”

  Sighing, the colonel put his glasses back on and shook the papers. “It says, upon Adelaide and Savannah’s final decision regarding their roles in DuBlanc Fishery, they have the option to sell their shares to Zephirin LeBlanc. The proceeds shall be divided equally between Adelaide Bordeaux, Savannah Dubois, and Robert Dubois.”

  As I glanced from face to face in the room, no one seemed stunned but me. In fact, everyone seemed pretty pleased with themselves for sitting around at a will reading for my dead grandfather.

  There was always a loophole.

  Roland had one.

  Now Pappy had one.

  It was time I had one.

  Standing outside Colonel Sanders’s office building, I’d already chewed off almost every acrylic nail I had. My entire right hand looked like it’d been attacked by a hungry Rottweiler, so I fisted it by my side as I paced. Savannah just stood there and watched me unravel while twirling the ends of her hideous shawl like a damn baton.

  “So…” she drawled, holding her rounded lips in the ‘o’ position.

  “So?” I repeated with an edge of impatience.

  She cocked an eyebrow and pointed her thumb over her shoulder. “Don’t we need to talk to Zep?”

  I snorted. “One never needs to talk to Zep, Sav. One is forced to talk to Zep.”

  “Ladies, my ears are burning over here.” Sea salt and spice filled my nose, and my knees shook out of anger. Squaring my shoulders, I plastered on my best Sugarbirch smile and spun around to face my nemesis. I might have been shamed by my husband, but this asshole didn’t need to know that I was ten dollars away from being a panhandler.

  “Considering the company I imagine you kept last night, you’ll probably have other things burning soon. I suggest stopping by the free clinic on your way home.”

  “Tsk tsk tsk, watch it, Snow White. That pretty little mask of yours is slipping.” Shoving his hands into his jeans, he stared at me for a beat before speaking again. “Let’s get real, Addie, when are you leaving?”

  “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

  “Exactly what you think it does. Let’s make this easy on everyone so you can go back to your fancy little house and needle dick husband, all right?”

  I was always the calm one. In crisis situations, I kept a level head and brokered peace while everyone else around me lost their shit. I’d never hit anyone in my life and swore violence only encouraged more violence.

  However, right now, violence and losing my shit sounded real good. In f
act, I wanted nothing more than to be anyone other than the person he’d always known.

  Little Miss Goody Two Shoes. Belle of the Ball. Miss Perfect.

  “No.” It was the only word I could get out without a string of curses behind it.

  “Look, Addie, we need to sit down and figure this out.” He glanced over at Savannah and tilted his chin at her. “You too, Sav. We have to work out the negotiations, because let’s face it, Adelaide’s not going to be a part of the business, and you couldn’t run a free taco stand in Mexico.”

  Savannah nodded. “He’s got a point, Ads.”

  “No.” Wow, seriously? My vocabulary had taken a nose dive since crossing the parish line into Terrebonne. Did I even know another word?

  The eternal smug look on Zep’s face faded, only to be replaced by hardened irritation. His nostrils flared, and the muscles of his forearms flexed as he grabbed me by the elbow and pushed me out of earshot of my family. “I’m not going to fuck with you on this. You shouldn’t worry yourself with a business you wouldn’t dream of dirtying your pristine hands with, Adelaide Bordeaux.”

  A fire swirled in my belly. As God was my witness, only Zep LeBlanc could rip a hole in my carefully constructed exterior and make me forget who I’d fought to become. I hated him for that. I hated everything about him. I hated what he stood for, and I hated him for hating me.

  Most of all, I hated being dependent on a man for anything anymore.

  Once and for all, I was going to prove to everyone in Shreveport and Terrebonne Parish that Adelaide Dubois Bordeaux was no princess. She had a brain, a degree, and by God, now she had a business.

  Jerking my elbow from his hold, I stood nose to nose and smiled right in his face. “Well, I’m afraid you’re going to have to fuck with me, Zephirin.” I widened my grin as his face registered shock at my profanity. “See, I have nothing better to do than fuck with you. So, I guess,” I pressed my lips to his ear in a wildly inappropriate and out of character gesture, “you’re stuck with me.”

  4

  A Proper Homecoming

  Savannah

  Terrebonne Parish, Louisiana

  Addie hadn’t spoken a word the entire drive to the house after the will reading. I was pretty sure she was in shock. Hell, I was too after the way she’d left Zep LeBlanc gaping like a bass on the sidewalk. I didn’t miss the extra sway she’d put in her hips, or the way Zep’s eyes had been glued to her ass either. There was definitely more to that story, and one way or another, I was going to find out.

  Gravel crunched under the tires as we bumped down the long drive leading to Pappy and Babs’ house. Cars already filled the empty field at the back of the house, and it looked as if half the damn parish had come to pay their respects.

  “You ready?” Addie asked, finally breaking her silence as she maneuvered her fancy car to a space amongst the beat up and rusted cars and trucks.

  “Not quite, but it’s nothing Babs’ vodka stash can’t fix,” I said, wiggling my eyebrows at her. It had the desired reaction.

  Addie burst into a full belly laugh that echoed in the small car. I watched as she wiped away a few stray tears and attempted to compose herself once more. For a split second, I saw the old Addie. The Addie who had laughed freely at all the stupid shit I used to do and genuinely seemed to enjoy her life. It’d been a long time since I’d seen that girl, and it made me even more determined to bring her back once and for all. I knew there was something going on with her, and a feeling in my gut told me it all had to do with Shit Stain.

  The smell of barbecue and crawfish filled the air as we climbed out of the car and made our way through the crowd of people milling around the yard. We stopped to say hello and give hugs to people we hadn’t seen in years. It was nice. That sense of community I’d missed for so long started to seep into my skin, and the clawing guilt and anxiety began to slip away. We were home where we belonged. Now, I just needed to convince Addie.

  Things were going well, and we listened and laughed as people told story after story about our Pappy. As the sun set, the tension in Addie’s shoulders slowly started to ease. Of course, it could’ve been the vodka I slipped into our drinks, but either way she seemed to be at least relaxing, if not having fun. It was a wake after all.

  “Look what I found!” Jeremiah hollered to the crowd, holding up something I couldn’t see from my vantage point before launching himself off the front porch.

  Oh, fuck, where the hell did he get a blow torch?

  There were cheers of encouragement from the crowd, and Babs stood up from her rocking chair on the porch and pumped a fist in the air. “Let us burn all ze shit! Boom!” She yelled before slamming a shot of what I could only assume was vodka and immediately breaking into a coughing fit. The crowd roared to life as if someone had just announced dollar beer night at the Gator Gap.

  Double fuck.

  To be fair, Babs was kind of the life of the bayou.

  Addie turned to me with eyes wide as saucers. “Is that…?”

  “The one and only,” I confirmed.

  I’d never considered myself the responsible one, but our dear cousin on our mother’s side was like a toddler on crack. When we were kids, we’d nicknamed him Bam-Bam the Destroyer because he couldn’t go five minutes without breaking something. He’d never been a small person, but it looked like someone had fed him Miracle-Gro during the time we’d been away. He stood well over six feet tall and had to be pushing at least three-hundred pounds. The man looked like he could tear down a house with his bare hands and knowing him, he probably had.

  Bam-Bam stumbled towards us with a goofy smile on his face which revealed a gap where his left canine should’ve been. “Who’s ready for a bonfire?”

  Another cheer from the crowd welcomed him, and all I could do was shake my head, and laugh. “Bam-Bam, no!”

  No sooner had the words left my mouth than the behemoth of a man bent at the waist and scooped both of us out of our chairs and straight over his shoulders. Addie shrieked as soon as she was airborne, and I couldn’t help but laugh at the terrified look on her face.

  I grinned at Addie. “Better hold on tight, big sis. The bayou is about to welcome us back in a big way.”

  I watched the lightning bugs dance above the water of the swamp, the heavy night air cooling the sweat on the back of my neck. Even late January in the swamp was humid, and the gator shaped thermometer hanging from the porch awning still read 70 degrees well after midnight. I might not have missed the sweltering weather when I was away at college, but anyone would be hard pressed to find a better view than the one they got from looking out Pappy and Babs’ front porch.

  “I believe I just may be drunk,” Addie announced, breaking into my silent reverie and plopping down on the wood planks beside me.

  “What do you mean, you believe?” I asked. “Isn’t it your job to throw parties in your big ‘ol house on the hill?”

  “It isn’t proper for a lady to drink in excess.” My sister let out a bitter laugh, and I watched out of the corner of my eye as the tension in her shoulders returned.

  I wanted to grill her and demand that she tell me just what in the actual fuck was going on, but that wasn’t Adelaide’s way. If I came at her full force, her walls would fly up faster than Josephine Lafayette’s skirt on prom night.

  “When I go, I want my wake to be just like tonight,” I said absently as I dug around in my small beaded clutch.

  “Are you serious? If the sheriff wasn’t too busy doing keg stands, he would’ve shut it down. There had to be no less than twelve laws broken tonight.”

  “Yeah, but ain’t nobody going to forget it anytime soon. Admit it, you had fun,” I prompted, finally finding what I was looking for and meeting her gaze.

  “I suppose I did. It’s been a long time since I’ve laughed that much,” she said with a sigh. “Oh my God! Is that a joint?” Whisper-yelling the last word, she looked over her shoulder as if the sheriff was going to pop out of the bushes and arrest us.
>
  As if.

  Sheriff Tucker was probably sleeping it off in the back of his squad car.

  “Relax, Addie. It’s a plant, not crack.” Lighting the end, I took a puff.

  “So is opium!”

  “Here,” I said, offering it to her. “You could stand to take it down a few notches.”

  “Get that thing away from me,” she said, swatting at my hand as if I held a grenade rather than a tiny joint.

  “Why you always poop the party, Adelaide?” Babs’ crackly voice broke through our bickering as she shuffled out of the house, letting the screen door slam behind her.

  “Babs!” Addie squeaked, eyes going shifty.

  “You worry too much,” Babs scolded, collapsing into her rocking chair.

  I nodded in agreement. “I’ve been telling her that for years.”

  Addie’s eyes looked like they were going to pop out of her damn head when I took another drag, and I couldn’t help the giggle that escaped my lips.

  Babs snapped her fingers at me. “You camping? Puff, puff, pass!”

  My giggle turned into a full belly laugh as I passed it off. “Yes, ma’am.”

  Addie’s head thumped against the shingles of the house. “Just when I thought this day couldn’t get any more bizarre.”

  “Crazy days are best days. You never know when you end up naked and swimming with gator,” Babs said, offering the joint to Addie. “Come, take dis. Get rid of bitch face.”

  Addie stared at the burning end with caution for a moment. “Fuck it,” she said, pinching it between two fingers and taking a drag. Five seconds later, she was doubled over hacking like a two pack a day smoker.

  Reaching out, I patted her back. “Jesus, Addie, you okay?”

  “Water,” she rasped.

  My legs felt like Jell-O from the combination of alcohol and herbal supplements, so I handed over the only thing to drink within reach. Addie took a huge gulp and immediately spat it out in a spray.