A Perfect Mistake

by Zoe Dawson

  He smiled, his eyes soft and warm and, yes, I swooned.

  A chorus of bullfrogs sang while the sky darkened to a smudgy purple, then faded into indigo that paled into an opaque white that became a stunning saturated orange to the west, where the sun was a huge ball of flame. Before us lay the swamp, isolated, lovely, and full of its own secrets.

  The boat floated gently at anchor and I relaxed back, bringing Boone with me.

  “You said something when I was sick. Something I’ve been meaning to ask you about.”

  “What did I say?”

  “You said you’d been discounted. What did you mean?”

  “All my life I’ve been pushed and prodded into being somebody that I never was. The illusion of someone who fit into this world my daddy created. I’m not the perfect preacher’s daughter. I have bad thoughts, and I wanted to cut loose. I wanted to do things that weren’t exactly what he preached about.”

  I took a shuddering breath, because this was at the core of me. “All I had inside me was this constant fear of falling short. And, I did. I fell short. So many times. And the worst part is, when I tried to tell him, I was discounted…my feelings, my thoughts, my hopes and my dreams. All of it was just shunted aside for something I didn’t want. I couldn’t help thinking that, how could I live up to all that? And now, Boone, now I know I couldn’t. I was just human and imperfect.”

  “That’s why you said you were lost like me.”

  “Yes, I was. So lost. We’re alike because we both have endured expectations and been thought of in general terms instead of as the individuals we are. You by the townspeople and me by my daddy.”

  “I’m happy we got the chance to get to know each other.” He caressed my face and pressed a soft kiss against my mouth. “I’ve been drawn to you.”

  “It’s too bad we didn’t act on this and instead let ourselves be isolated, not only from each other, but from ourselves.”

  He nodded and kissed me again, then we held each other and listened to the song of the swamp, soothing and familiar.

  #

  Verity

  “Verity?”

  I heard Boone’s voice as I entered the last number into his brand new spreadsheet. “Here,” I called.

  He came into the office and glanced around with a look on his face that was incredulous. Where the hell is all my crap?”

  “Filed in folders and you have new spreadsheets. Ways to bill and for receipts. This will help with your taxes.”

  “Holy shit, Verity,” he said. “This is great. You really are organized.”

  “You’re welcome. Just keep up with it and it won’t take you any time at all. You bought Quicken, but didn’t even use it. Silly man.”

  “I hate paperwork. Wow, you organized my drafting table too. I like the cup holder for all my pens, markers and shit.”

  I smiled and stood. “I’ve got to get going.”

  “You have to leave already?” he whined.

  “Yes, I do.” I walked over to him and wrapped my arms around his neck.

  “I was hoping you’d show up in my weight room again,” his blue eyes were quite full of hope.

  “I meant to ask you about that.”

  “Yeah?”

  “What other jocks do you have in that drawer?”

  His eyes went sly. “Do you want me to model them for you?”

  I had to take a deep breath. “I’m not sure how many we’d get through and whether or not you’d keep them on your delicious body.”

  “Hmmm, sounds damn good to me.”

  I laughed as he dragged me to his room. I was definitely going to be late calling Aubree for a River Pearl intervention.

  As soon as I could get Boone to let me go, I got ahold of Aubree and we drove over to River Pearl’s.

  Majestueux, her family’s estate stood at the end of a traditional allée or in English, alley of ancient, moss-draped live oak, a testament to the old South and Colonel Beauregard’s money. The plantation was old, probably stood long before the Colonel claimed it, renovated it and made it his home. A lot of plantations had fallen to the carpetbaggers. It was just outside the city limits sitting on emerald green manicured lawns, butting up against the bayou.

  We had to pass through the great, intricately vine-worked, black iron gates that often stood open, inviting in visitors. Mr. and Mrs. Sutton were gracious and loved guests. The house was a place to entertain and they hosted more than their share of parties in the high society circles they enjoyed.

  The stark white house sported six twenty-four-foot-tall Doric columns supporting the four sides of the house and the jutting Caribbean-style roof. The doors, centered on both the upper and the lower levels of the house, showed off fan lights and sidelights and were bordered by two sets of French doors with louvered shutters painted a rich emerald green. Three dormers with Palladian windows set off the gray slate roof. A glassed-in cupola capped the magnificent mansion. We climbed a regal horseshoe-shaped double stairway that ran from the ground floor to the upper gallery of the house, giving it its majestic name. When we knocked, her mother came to the door.

  “Oh, hello, girls. Come on in. My daughter has been in her room since last night. Why don’t you coax her out for some breakfast,” she said cheerily.

  Mrs. Sutton was a stunning woman, even at her age. Her long blonde hair flowed down her back, her blue eyes full of sparkle. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her unhappy. She was the force behind River Pearl’s pageants and cheerleading and just about everything else her daughter did. She looked exactly like what she was—a stage momma.

  The interior of the house was just as impressive with marble and antiques, polished wood and priceless rugs. Aubree and I knew the way. We had spent so many days and nights at her house. We knocked on her door and there was a muffled, “Come in.”

  When we walked in, she was on her bed petting her pure white cat, Canvas. Her eyes were red and she looked like she hadn’t slept.

  We rushed over, both of us scaring the cat, and swarmed over her, hugging her and pushing her back against her pillows. “Why didn’t you answer the phone?”

  She sniffled. “I don’t cry. Ever. I just didn’t want you to know.”

  “Oh, River Pearl, you’re an idiot,” Aubree said affectionately. “A cute idiot.”

  She cracked a smile. “I know.”

  “What happened?” I asked eaten up with curiosity.

  “I’m sure it comes as no surprise to either one of you that I like Braxton. I’ve always liked him. But he’s such a bastard. He told me I was wasting all my good flirting on him. He wasn’t interested. He would never be interested.”

  “He’s such a huge liar.”

  “Well, he sounded like he knew exactly what he was saying and meant every word. It hurts! I hate being rejected.”

  “You’re such a princess.”

  That made her buck up and get some of her snap back. “That’s right, and don’t you forget it. It’s all so annoying. I can get any man I want. Anyone, and I have. I just crook my little finger and they come running. But it never lasts because they’re usually all about dating a model and could care less if I could even recite the alphabet, let alone use it.”

  “Maybe you should give up on him.”

  “I can’t seem to do it. Every time I get near him, I just want to push him until I get a reaction. It’s pathological. But the sad thing is, I really need his help, and he didn’t even give me a chance to ask him.”

  “Help. With what?”

  “The Founders Day Festival speech.”

  I exchanged an uh-oh look with Aubree.

  “You still planning on writing about Duel and the Colonel?”

  “Yes, I am. I want Braxton to help me.”

  “Did you get around to telling your daddy?”

  “Nope, and I’m not gonna to tell him. He’s given me this assignment, and I’m going to do it the way I want to do it.”

  “Well, get up and get dressed. I know your family always puts on a
great breakfast spread. We’ll eat and then go shopping in Lafayette.”

  “Ooh, shopping? That sounds great.” She pushed us off her and disappeared into the bathroom.

  “I don’t think we’ve heard the last about Braxton Outlaw, Aubree.”

  “Ain’t that the truth? The way he looks at her like he wants to devour her. I don’t know what’s going on with him, but I do know Brax doesn’t like to be pushed.”

  “I wouldn’t want to be on his bad side. But she is fearless around him,” I said.

  “I know. She’s my hero.”

  “Mine, too.”

  #

  Verity

  Two days later I found myself back in the bayou, but this time it was with a little tow-headed boy. Henry Ducet was beyond excited, but he dutifully held Boone’s hand as we made our way into a good frogging spot.

  Henry was assigned to hold the light.

  I was so proud of River Pearl. She was there with us, giving Brax her Death Stare and being completely strong.

  I jumped and screamed when one of the fleeing bullfrogs landed, cold and slimy, against my leg above my sock.

  “That’s a live one,” Boone said as he gigged it and put it in his bag. Of course, they were having a contest to see who could get the most frogs.

  “You know, if we got the air boat and strapped the kid down, we’d get so many more frogs. It’d be, like, way faster at sixty miles per hour.” Brax said, so nonchalantly. Like the Outlaws tied down kids all the time on their air boat.

  Aubree shouted, “No!” panic straining her voice.

  Brax reached out his hand to Booker and he slapped a twenty into it.

  Then all of them doubled over and started laughing, Booker harder than the other two.

  “Breebree.” Boone managed around his laughter. “Your face.”

  “You are all jackasses! All of you! You scared the hell out of me. Booker, how could you?”

  “I was betting you would see right through his ridiculous suggestion! What the hell! You cost me money, woman!”

  She walked over to him. He was still laughing and she punched him in the arm. “I’m so mad at you.”

  “You know I love that, sugar.”

  He grabbed her around the neck and she giggled then laughed. “Brax, you’re such an ass.”

  “Hey, I’m twenty bucks richer. Aw, Book can kiss it and make it better.”

  “Don’t mind if I do,” he said, planting one on her.

  She cupped his face, her eyes still snapping. The way she looked at him settled into my heart, but then I couldn’t keep my eyes off Boone, while Boone studied his brother in a way that made my gaze go back to Booker. The laughter died from Booker’s face and he stared into her eyes.

  “Aubree, will you marry me?”

  For a moment my friend just stood there, then she threw her arms around his neck. “You would ask me to marry you in the bayou at night in front of your brothers and my friends while we’re frogging.”

  “Geezus, Book, you’re so damned romantic,” Braxton said. “Put him out of his misery and marry the bastard, already.”

  “Shut the fuck up, Brax,” Aubree said, her gaze never leaving Booker’s.

  Boone and Braxton snorted with laughter.

  “It doesn’t matter where we are, Aubree. It only matters that we’re together. I don’t even have a ring, but I’ve thinking about it for a while. I know there’s no other woman for me. It’s just you. It’s always been you. It will always be you.”

  “Damn you and your writing ability. You know what to say and how to say it. I’ll marry you wherever, whenever you want.”

  “Even if it’s in the bayou with the frogs?”

  “Okay, maybe not exactly wherever.”

  Booker and Aubree headed out after that and we just keep gigging. Finally, it was time for us to take Henry home.

  In Boone’s truck I looked back and smiled as Henry nodded off to sleep. I clasped Boone’s hand. “He had such a good time.”

  Boone smiled. “He’s a cute kid. I’m just glad nothing happened.”

  “You were completely vigilant. Nothing could have happened.”

  “I want to wrap that kid up in cotton, especially with my brothers around,” he squeezed my hand.

  “Yeah, Booker and Aubree, getting married. How amazing is that?”

  “It’s no surprise to us. He’s loved her for a long, long time.”

  When we pulled up to the house, he carefully unbuckled Henry’s seat belt and gathered him up in his arms. My heart ached still as I watched him carry that little boy to deposit him in his mother’s arms.

  Mine felt so empty.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Verity

  When I got to service on Sunday, my head was full of the days I’d spent with Boone and the nights in his arms.

  My daddy and I were so painfully cordial to each other, but I felt his intense disapproval. I was thankful that my momma and I had come to an understanding. I hated spending any time in the house and found myself seeking out Boone’s warmth more and more often.

  He never hesitated to give it to me and I sank all the way into him.

  I sat in the front pew with my momma, and when my daddy came out to preach, he did a double take to see all three Outlaws ready to play.

  I was looking forward to finding out what these three had cooked up for the service. Boone would only say that he intended to sing “Grace Like Rain” to open, but that was all. And when the music started, his pure voice rang out in the church like that of an angel. He sang the parts about redemption with such force and emotion. I knew that he felt it strongly. He said music was emotion in its purest form, and I believed every word.

  There was utter silence from the congregation. I know there were many people in the church who bought into the Outlaws’ reputation. I saw a lot scowls.

  My daddy’s sermon was about Shoutin’ Words. And as he progressed I got more and more agitated.

  He talked about how God had rescued us from the control of darkness. How often do we find ourselves in need of rescue? How often do we also find ourselves struggling against some angry force, some violent mob, or some temptation that, try as we might, it appears that we are unable to make any headway against? That the wind is in our faces. The odds against us. The constraints so compelling that we feel stuck and unable to get out.

  I closed my eyes, trying to shut out the painful truth of that statement, feeling every lie I had told burn in me. I looked at Boone paying attention to the sermon and wondered what he was thinking. Wondering how I could have the faith my daddy spoke about and do the absolute right thing.

  How I could overcome this terrible, terrible fear.

  Then my daddy came to his closing and spoke about the words that needed to be shouted. The first one was habit, ones that are bad and should be broken. When he got to the second word my stomach turned over. Mistakes. He said we all made them. Some were unintentional. That when we realize those mistakes and ask for forgiveness, we get it. Then, he moved on to the next word. Omission. I felt the hot tears gather in the backs of my eyes and I blinked rapidly to keep them stifled.

  The guilt flowed through me like a terrible, dark tide and I couldn’t escape from it.

  The Outlaws played again, three more songs. One was “We Fall Down,” then “No More Hell to Pay,” a rock piece that rattled the stained glass windows. The Outlaws knew how to jam, and I was completely blown away by each of their talents.

  As the service came to a close Boone finished up with “Need You Now.” It’s a song about asking for help, and that message also cut through me, the pleading words mirroring the same ones inside me.

  When I walked out of the church, someone called my name.

  “Verity!”

  When I looked around, my heart almost stopped. It was Minnie. What was she doing in Suttontowne?

  She rushed up and hugged me, and I hugged her back.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “You haven
’t called me in four days, love. I might have that British stiff upper lip and all, but I was worried.”

  I knew she meant that as a joke, but even as I tried to usher her away, my parents came out, and there was no way I could get out of introducing her to them.

  “Verity, who is your friend?” my daddy asked.

  “This is Minnie Tattersall. She’s someone I met when I was away this past year.”

  I could see by Minnie’s face that she realized she’d just complicated my life. I hadn’t told her that my parents didn’t know about my job and my success. She knew I hadn’t told them about the baby. Once again, by omission, I had only made things worse. I exchanged knowing looks with my momma.

  “Oh, were you on the mission with her?” My daddy asked.

  “Not exactly,” Minnie said. “I wanted to see Suttontowne, and Verity talked about it a lot.”

  I could see that my daddy was wondering exactly how I had met this fashionable, British-sounding girl while in Kenya.

  “You’re welcome to stay for the church social,” my daddy said.

  Minnie smiled. “Oh, I should really find a B&B and get settled in.”

  “Now, you wouldn’t have to do that. We have a spare room. You can stay with us.”

  I groaned inside and Minnie glanced at me, at a loss. If she turned down my parents’ generous offer, it would seem rude. But I didn’t want Minnie in that close proximity to them.

  “Thank you. That’s very kind.”

  My daddy got pulled away by a parishioner. With another look my momma went, too.

  Minnie turned to me. “Oh, Verity, why didn’t you tell me they didn’t know you were in New York City? What was this mission?’

  I explained everything to her and she looked very upset. “Well, now we’ve stepped in it. You will have to tell them who I am.”

  “I’ve told my momma. I’m just waiting for a good time to tell my daddy, Minnie. I can’t lie to him about this anymore. It was my intent to tell them all along, as soon as I got the courage.”