by JL Mac
“And Rae is allowing you to soil her sidekick?”
“A. Fuck you. Two. It’s not up to Rae but yes she thinks we could be good together. In fact she said we’re two birds of a feather. And C. Why don’t you call Rae yourself if you’re so concerned with what she thinks.”
“Okay, okay. I’m just messin’ with you, Chicken Nugget.” I laugh, tucking my beer under my arm while I take the steaks out the backdoor, headed for my grill. I toss the food on to cook and sit down in one of the two black wicker rockers I have on my back deck. I look out across the tree line behind my home and feel as though the empty seat beside me is laughing at me. Why the hell do they sell patio furniture for crowds, anyway? Some people are alone and plan to stay that way. Some people don’t need a goddamn second rocker. I grumble under my breath and down the rest of my beer all at once.
It doesn’t matter if I have a second rocker because I don’t have a person to use it and I’m beginning to believe that this is just what God has planned for me. Perpetual bachelorhood.
Chapter 34
Raegan
“So what are you going to do?” Bethany asks slightly out of breath due to helping me lug my boxes from my office down to my car, which is double-parked outside our office building.
“I don’t know. I told Sweeney I would remain on the team, remotely in the interim but I’m out of here. This place has been slowly killing me, anyway.”
“What did they say is wrong with Ellie?”
“Preeclampsia. I Googled all about it. She’s in the hospital for observation, and she’s okay for now, but they still expect her to deliver the baby early. Right now it’s just about buying time. She’s going to need extra help while she’s recovering and getting her blood pressure to return to normal so I’m going to live on her couch for the foreseeable future,” I shrug. The movement belies how scared I am for my little sister and her precious baby but focusing on her is cathartic for me. I’ve been a mess since I came home from the trip we took to be there for her baby shower almost two weeks ago.
Sy responds to my texts but not all of them and he doesn’t say a lot, which makes me sink into a sense of depression and a half pint of double chocolate chunk ice cream. I know he said he wanted time to process everything, but it feels like he just wants to keep away from me. It hurts, and it’s illuminating for me. If feeling as though the person you’re in love with doesn’t want you is what Sy felt all those years then I very much deserve the silent treatment. I also have no clue what he’s thinking. Of me, of what happened, of the choices I made… So yes, focusing my attention elsewhere is something I am happy to do. I don’t know how much more despondence over Sy I can handle. For the time being, I will give him his space and just hope and pray we can at least be friends again. He is after all my nephew or niece’s godfather. He’s going to have to get used to seeing the godmother around, me. I’ll be doing my best to do the same for him.
“You know,” Bethany leads, dusting her hands off after loading and armful of my things into the front seat of my car. “In theory, if you started your own consulting firm, I’d be your first applicant,” she smiles broadly. “No matter where headquarters happened to be,” she adds looking around the busy street as though she sees nothing at all.
“Yeah?” I smirk.
“Yep,” she nods.
“I’ll make a mental note of that,” I say and give her a quick hug before rounding my car and heading off for nanny, nurse, big sister, and brand new auntie duties. God help me.
I detest the smell of hospitals but it’s the very last thing on my mind as I sit on a plastic upholstered chair that sort of transforms into a something that resembles a beach lounger more than a sleeper sofa. I try adjusting myself as quietly as possible but the plastic material rustles terribly. Ellie doesn’t wake up though, thank goodness. She’s been restless and nervous and excited and back again and I’ve tried for several days now, since I arrived actually to keep her mind completely off the scary situation she finds herself in. In truth, she’s handling everything like a champion and I’m very proud of her resilience in the face of something that makes for a very overwhelming ordeal.
Anyway, keeping my butt in the plastic lawn chair has helped keep my mind off Sylas and the fact that I haven’t seen or heard from him at all since I came home. I’d like to pretend he doesn’t know I’m back for the time being but common sense tells me Sy definitely knows I’m in town. Palmetto Grove isn’t some sprawling metropolis and Sy isn’t blind or deaf.
He’s just chosen to avoid me. He wants nothing to do with me and I can’t say I’m shocked or that I blame him. I inhale deeply and settle further into my seat willing myself to put all thoughts of Sy out of my mind. I’m exhausted. It seems as though I’ve only been nodding off for a few minutes when I hear someone clear their throat loudly. I mumble incoherently and slowly crack my eyes open to see Ellie awake and smiling at me. Next to her is Doug who is also wearing a grin. I frown and rub my eyes.
“What time is it and why are y’all looking at me like that,” I mumble, digging around in the seat for my cellphone.
“It’s twenty-two minutes til midnight,” Sy says from the corner of the room where he’s leaning against the wall.
“Oh. Hey. Um. Okay,” I nod unsure why the hell everyone is here and looking at me like I know the secret to life.
“I’m on duty,” Doug says. “You get outta here,” he says in that way that means he’s not asking but telling.
“Okay then.” I shrug, getting to my feet. I lean over Ellie’s form in the bed and give her a hug. “Love you guys,” I pat her belly gently. “I’ll be here tomorrow to keep you company.”
“Actually Momma is coming to hang out. Take the day to relax in a real bed,” she says wrinkling her nose with her eyes on the beach lounger.
“I’ll call tomorrow and see what’s going on,” I say not making any promises. I want to be here as much as possible and she knows it.
“Come on, Rae. I’m taking you home,” Sy says, looking impatient and my heart shrinks. Now I’m beginning to think I should have either driven my own car to Louisiana or I should have just rented a car with an open-ended reservation. Dammit.
“I’m sure Daddy can come get me,” I shake my head.
“Rae, let’s go,” he says annoyed, looking at his watch like I’m making him late.
I keep my mouth shut and walk past him and straight to the elevator. I press the button for the bottom floor and try to ignore the man standing entirely too close to me. Why can’t elevators be twice the size they are? The doors slide open and we ride down to the bottom floor in the most awkward silence ever. Sy is speed walking to his truck with me essentially jogging to keep up.
I notice him checking his watch every couple of minutes and my anger spikes. Who does he think he is? I didn’t make him come and pick me up! He opens the passenger door and doesn’t even give me the opportunity to climb in. Sy grips me around my waist and tosses me in the truck then jogs around the front to get in on his side.
“Uh, where’s the fire, Sylas?” I mutter through my teeth. He ignores me completely as he speeds across town. Stuck in my own thoughts about this ridiculous display from him, I don’t even notice where we are going until his truck rocks as it drives over the path, around the baseball complex, and to the water’s edge at the bayou.
“What are you doing?” I ask, shaking my head.
“Outta the truck, Rae,” he orders, hopping out himself. He rounds the truck and again picks me up and deposits me roughly to my feet then he grabs my hand and drags me over to the old magnolia where our initials are carved out.
“Sy! Stop!” I yell pulling my hand out of his. “What is this?” I cross my arms over my chest, shaking my head. “You won’t speak to me beyond one-syllable words, you don’t care to—”
Before I can even get the words out, his arms are around my body and I am pulled tightly against his. He kisses me hard and passionately but it’s brief. His mouth makes a popping so
und as he pulls away, breathing roughly, his hands shaking.
“Does that seem like someone that doesn’t care, Rae?” He pushes his hands through his hair and again checks his watch. “Now I’m almost out of time so just give me a minute here,” he says holding one finger up. He drags me closer to the tree and bends down and flips a switch on several little battery-powered lanterns. The base of the tree lights up, our initials clear as day. My jaw drops and my mind spins. What in the hell is he up to?
“Way I figure it, I have no right to be here saying any of this to you. I caused you so much pain and I’ll never forgive myself—”
“Stop,” I demand, shaking my head as I step closer to him.
“Let me finish,” he orders, again checking his watch. “I don’t have a lot of time left.” I frown at him and shake my head in confusion but Sy doesn’t acknowledge it. He simply goes on with a speech I can tell he practiced. “As I said, I don’t have any right to say these things to you, to ask a thing of you, but that’s never stopped me before when it comes to you. I have a deal for you.” He swallows roughly and I narrow my eyes on him. “Give me a chance to make things right. Let me make it better. Let me love you,” his voice wobbles. “And love away the hurt and bury all the bad memories with amazing ones. I know I can make you happy, dammit, and I swear I can and will,” he says checking his watch yet again.
“Sylas,” I whisper touching his cheek gently. “The truth is, we had something special and real back then. We had something great, but we were kids—totally different people. The woman I am today is a stranger to you in the same way I don’t know you. On top of that, BCF, and you, and Dale don’t deserve to inherit my bad press or my enemies. Those things worry me. I want us too, and I’ve been trying hard to work on myself but what if this can’t work? We may as well be strangers.” Sy nods and looks at me speculatively with his full lower lip trapped between his teeth.
“All right then. Hello,” he says softly then he extends his hand to me. “I’m Sylas Broussard. I grew up here. After I was wounded in Afghanistan, I came home and started up Buzzsaw Chartered Fishing—a nonprofit. I have a home here and another down in Cattail. My time is split between the two places. I like Chantilly cream on carrot cake. I hate cheese. I love the Old Bayou Diner and I want very badly to get to know you every day for the rest of my life.”
The grin on my face is so wide my cheeks ache. Leave it to Sylas to find a way around anything and everything. I love that about him.
“Hello, Sylas. I’m Raegan Potter. I carry around more luggage than the baggage claim carousel at LaGuardia Airport. I need saving from myself more often than not. I’m unemployed at present and homeless,” I snort loudly at the ridiculousness of my life at the moment. Sy’s lips twitch. I laugh then laugh more and eventually double over, clutching my stomach as raucous laughter grips me.
“You are definitely not homeless,” he says tugging me closer to him. “Marry me, dammit. I won’t stop asking until you say yes,” he warns as he pulls a sparkling diamond ring from his pocket and holds it out to me as he gets to one knee. He hasn’t even made it to one knee before I am joining him on my knees, nodding my head with tears collecting in my eyes.
“You going to save me?” I ask, looking up at him. His enchanting eyes glitter back at me with so much love as he leans forward catching the tears on my cheeks with his kisses.
“Only every chance I get for the rest of my life if you’ll let me,” he says with his rich timber.
“I’m letting you,” I promise, then punctuate my vow with a kiss. I move my mouth over his, breathing him in, breathing in the promise of a new future, a new life laid out before us. “I love you,” I vow with my mouth pressed against his.
“I love you too, Snow. Always have. Always will.” He murmurs as he slips the stunning engagement ring on my finger. It fits me perfectly just like him.
“Just in time,” he says checking his watch again. “Happy twenty-ninth birthday baby,” he says with his lips pressed to my ear, his hand tucked into my hair at the nape of my neck.
I gasp realizing he was rushing around impatiently because it was nearly midnight and my year twenty-eight, the year we were to honor our pact, was coming to an end.
Best. Birthday. Gift. Ever!
“I’m gonna need another boat,” he says softly, as he gently tucks a lock of my hair behind my ear. His palm brushes against my cheek and I nuzzle toward him, my eyes slipping closed. I melt into him and allow all that we were, all that we are and will be to wash over me. His lips find mine and I’m consumed by his reverence. “Year Twenty Eight,” he murmurs against my lips.
Epilogue
One year later…
It’s so cliché but it’s true when they say what a difference a day makes. When we were ten, from one day to the next we were reluctant friends. Then in high school, from one day to the next we were a couple. Two years ago, from one day to the next I found myself back in Sylas Broussard’s orbit though I had sworn to never return to him or Palmetto Grove. Now, here I am.
“Bethany, are you ready?” I ask into the intercom on my desk phone. This morning she asked if we could have a working lunch to discuss my calendar for next week.
“Be right there,” she giggles.
“Go away Chick,” I order with faux-grimness.
“Hey, boss lady, I can come see my woman any time I please. Sy said so,”
he adds a little sheepishly. And I can make out the sound of Bethany in the background aww’ing.
“Hey, I wear the pants in this relationship and what I say goes,” I say with no real gusto behind it.
“That a fact?” Sy says from the door to my office. I spin around in my desk chair like a little kid that has just been caught stealing the cookies. Still, I stick with it.
“Yep. I’m the boss lady. Says it there on my card,” I say pointing to the stack of business cards sitting neatly in the cradle on the corner of my desk. Sy waltzes into my office, shutting the door behind him and plucks one of the beautifully embossed cards from the stack.
“Broussard Consulting,” he reads. “Raegan Broussard, Founder and CEO,” his lips twitch and a soft smile tilts his full lips up. “Don’t think I’ll ever get tired of calling you Mrs. Broussard,” he says softly as he rounds my desk and plucks me out of my seat to draw my close to him.
“Me either,” I sigh. He nuzzles his nose into the space behind my ear and hums, sending tingles through my body.
“My door has a lock,” I offer.
“As good as that sounds Mrs. Broussard it’ll have to wait. We have guests showing up any minute.”
“Guests?” No sooner than the word is out of my mouth I hear my office door burst open.
“Happy birthday!” Bethany, shouts, as she comes into my office with a cake balanced in one hand and a gift bag in another. This is a pattern with her but it appears the cake selection has improved over the years because I spy a homemade carrot cake with Chantilly frosting in her hands. My mouth waters. “Yum,” I say eyeing the cake. Behind Bethany are my parents, Sy’s parents, Doug, Ellie and my adorable nephew Grayson Theodore Kearney. He will be one-year-old next week and I have been the very definition of the overbearing, doting, obsessed auntie. Thank God I don’t wear garish pink lipstick or go by the name Gerdy otherwise I’d feel compelled to dial things down a touch.
“Kit said to tell you happy birthday,” Ellie says handing Gray off to me and a familiar paper bag with Old Bayou Diner’s logo on it and a handwritten note from Kit.
“Mmm,” I begin to hum but stop, furrowing my brow and wrinkling my nose as something malodorous seeps into my nose. “Ugh, I think Gray needs a fresh diaper,” I swallow and wrinkle my nose with him on one knee and my lunch on the desk in front of me.
“I just changed him. Little stinker does it every time! Slap fresh diaper on and he’s got to go,” Ellie laughs scooping him off my lap before heading for the bathroom no doubt.
“Thank you,” I smile at everyone as I fish my lunch,
my favorite grilled cheese sandwich from the paper sack. I unfold the foil wrapped and dive in and immediately know something is terribly wrong. My gut churns and a cold sweat covers my brow. “I think something is wrong with this sandwich,” I say managing not to audibly gag. It’s putrid. The whole thing reeks like gym socks.
“Had to be gas because he’s clean,” Ellie says rejoining the rest of us in my office. “Oh my god you look pale,” she says with her eyes wide.
“It’s the sandwich. Smell it,” I shove the offending sandwich at Sy and he backs away with his hands up.
“I love you wife but my hatred for cheese it in my genes.”
“Hey, you ate one of these once!” I argue.
“I was a desperate man but if you look like you’re gonna toss your cookies, then I’m definitely not inspecting it. Anyone else?” Sy motions toward my mother who is wearing a peculiar look on her face. She steps forward being the fearless woman I know her to be and peels the bread apart to inspect the sandwich. She sniffs it, looks at me then takes a small bite.
