Sandra Hill - [Jinx]

by Pearl Jinx

  She hadn’t. Had she? “Where is it? How do ya know where it is?” John asked.

  “I gots this friend, Lefty Delacroix . . .”

  He groaned mentally. Crazy Lefty from Lafayette, who claimed to have been a pirate himself at one time. He and Tante Lulu would make quite a pair. The Fruitcake Duo.

  “Lefty knows someone who knows someone who has this treasure map.”

  “Auntie, hundreds of people have searched for that treasure over the past two hundred years, to no avail.” Luc was speaking in his cool, calm lawyer voice.

  “I know that. But, jumpin’ Jehoshaphat, no one has tried since Hurricane Katrina. And, besides, everyone’s been searchin’ in the wrong place.” She beamed.

  Luc and René put their faces on the table, their shoulders shaking. He didn’t know if they were laughing or crying.

  After she explained in more detail, Ronnie said, “I don’t know. It sounds kind of risky. And expensive.”

  “I gots the money. How much wouldja need fer my share?”

  They all cringed. His aunt had no clue how much money was involved in these projects.

  Jake shrugged. He was the one handling finances for Jinx, Inc., these days. “Two hundred thousand, maybe.”

  “I got that,” Tante Lulu said with a whoop.

  Another shocker from their aunt. Who knew she had that kind of money? Even Ronnie and Jake were taken by surprise. Jake had probably thrown that figure out hoping to discourage her.

  “I’m not sure we could move to that project right away,” Caleb cautioned. “We have some other jobs we need to complete first, don’t we, Ronnie?”

  She nodded, dumbfounded.

  “Thass no problem. I got cannin’ ta do, and healin’ my patients and such. Mebbe next spring? Or the next year might be even better. Doan wait too long, though. I might be dead.”

  Jake and Ronnie nodded hesitantly. They were probably hoping she would forget about it by then.

  Hah! Little did they know his aunt.

  There was something different about Ronnie. Jake studied her, then Charmaine, then her again. Grinning, he whispered in her ear, “Congratulations, darlin’.”

  She blushed and whispered back, “How did you know?”

  “Ya have that look, sweetie. Jist like Charmaine.”

  Peach and Famosa overheard, and they both shook Jake’s hand.

  Meanwhile, his aunt was still blathering on. “I cain’t wait ta call Mary LeBlanc and tell her and the ladies at Our Lady of the Bayou Church. Do ya think there’s any chance we might get Richard Simmons ta come on down and help with the project? Ya know, ‘Sweatin’ to the Oldies’ could be our mornin’ exercise, ’stead of joggin’. Betcha we could get some TV crews down there what with that ol’ Jean Lafitte legend and Richard Simmons. An’ Richard could stay at my cottage. He is so cute.”

  What could one say to that?

  “Does anyone know where they hide the bourbon? I’m in the mood for an oyster shooter, or five.”

  It’s not a party without you, baby . . .

  “Where’s Claire?”

  “I don’t know. It’s hard to see anyone in this crowd,” Caleb told his brother at the party that night. Actually, he’d been searching for Claire the past half hour, to no avail.

  But then, Caleb’s eyes went wide at Jonas’s companion of the evening, who stepped up beside him.

  “You remember Laura, dontcha?” Jonas said, his face, neck, and ears pink with embarrassment.

  Caleb nodded a greeting. It was the nurse, Laura Jones, but instead of her usual attire, tonight she wore an ankle-length dress with short sleeves and a demure neckline. It was rose-colored with tiny yellow flowers. Her blonde hair was pulled into a knot at the back of her neck. If it wasn’t for the gauzy material of Laura’s dress or the long curly strands that had come loose from the bun and framed her face, he would almost have thought she was Mennonite.

  Ah! Now he understood Jonas’s discomfort. Laura was out for the kill, showing that she would even change her appearance to nab his brother. That speculation was further proven when he noticed her lacing her fingers with Jonas’s and tugging him closer to her side. Jonas made no attempt to pull away.

  “Jonas and I would like you and Claire to come for dinner on Wednesday,” Laura said. “I’m teaching his girls how to make a seafood lasagna. Dat and Mam will be there.”

  If his eyes had gone wide at her appearance, they went even wider at her use of his parents’ names. “I’d love to, but I’m not sure I’ll still be here then.”

  “Caleb! Will ya not even consider my offer? It would be wonderful-goot to have ya be a partner in my landscaping business. Peachey Brothers. We could expand and—”

  Caleb put up a halting hand and shook his head. “I appreciate the offer, Jonas, but it’s your business. Not mine.”

  Jonas seemed about to argue, then gave up. Squeezing his shoulder, he said in a choked voice, “Ya wouldn’t leave without sayin’ good-bye, wouldja?”

  “I’ll probably leave on Monday. Gotta get back to Jinx headquarters in New Jersey. But no, I wouldn’t leave without seeing you first. And Dat and Mam. For one thing, we need to discuss this whole Mennonite conversion thing. Is it for real?”

  “Seems so. Dat talked Zeke, Levi, Katie, and Mimi into converting, ’long with their families. But Aaron, Joseph, and Judith’s husband, Isaac Glick, are balkin’. Ach, but it’s a wonder so many of our family are goin’ along with this, and, tell the truth, it’s no loss with those three stayin’ behind. Aaron alveese was too big fer his britches. Joseph’s attitude can be blamed on his age, I suppose, and he might come ’round later, ’specially if he thinks he might lose the farm fer being muleheaded. And ya wouldn’t wanna be around Isaac Glick fer long anyhow; he’s got more opinions than God has little green apples. Plus he’s got a gas problem like ya wouldn’t believe.”

  “Jonas!” Laura chastised.

  “Well, it’s the truth. He breaks wind everywheres. Even durin’ church.”

  Caleb had to smile at his brother’s bluntness. He wouldn’t bring it up now, but he could recall a time when an eight-year-old Jonas had deliberately farted in the middle of a three-hour church service, clearing the room like a tornado. He’d been eating baked beans the night before. A lot of baked beans.

  Jonas’s eyes, gleaming with humor, connected with his, and he realized that his brother was remembering, too.

  “Will Dat and the others continue to live in the same houses?” he asked.

  “I ’spect so. The shunnin’ will be harder, but no harder than it’s been fer me. Easier, actually, if all or most of them stick together.”

  “Who ever would have thought Dat would bend like this?”

  “It’s a wonder, all right.”

  “Well, I think it’s great that your family will finally be united again,” Laura said. “A blessing, really.”

  They couldn’t argue with that.

  “Then there’s Lizzie.” Caleb sighed. “She’s bound and determined to pursue a music career.”

  “It’s foolishness, pure and simple, if ya ask me,” Jonas remarked.

  “You two do know that Lizzie is a very talented singer, don’t you? She sounds a lot like Carrie Underwood,” Laura said. “Do you really have the right to deny her a chance to pursue her dreams?”

  That was the problem. What did you do with an Amish girl with a talent for country music? Should Caleb take her out into the English world and see if she had enough talent and stamina to compete? Should Jonas take her into his Mennonite home, where there were many restrictions but some forms of music were permitted?

  The three of them turned toward the small stage where music was being played on a CD and amp system by Lizzie, Brenda, and LeDeux, whoever was in the vicinity at various times. Lizzie’s blonde hair was held off her face by two barrettes and hung down to her waist in back. She wore low-riding jeans and a tiny pink knit top that left about six inches of skin exposed.

  “What is that shiny thin
g on Lizzie’s belly?” Jonas cocked his head to the side, trying to figure it out.

  Laura giggled at Jonas’s naivete.

  “It’s a belly-button ring,” Caleb said.

  “How does it stay on?”

  Laura giggled again.

  “Her belly button is pierced,” Caleb explained.

  “Oh, good Lord! Why would anyone wanna put a hole in their belly button?”

  Laura said, “Uh-oh!”

  He and Jonas stared at her, Jonas more surprised than him.

  “I have a belly button ring,” she disclosed in a small voice.

  Caleb had to laugh at the shocked expression on Jonas’s face. That pretty much said how intimate, or not, she and Jonas had been so far.

  “But I could let it grow over. The hole, I mean.”

  Jonas was still blinking with shock, trying his best not to gape at her belly.

  “Hey, at least Laura doesn’t have her tongue pierced,” Caleb teased. Then quickly added, “Do you?”

  She shook her head.

  “Why would that be better or worse?” Jonas grumbled.

  Caleb leaned over and whispered the benefits of a tongue piercing to his innocent brother.

  “Oh, you!” Jonas said, not believing what he’d told him.

  “Listen, brother, you would be surprised at what some people pierce.” He glanced pointedly at his and then Jonas’s crotch.

  “No way!” Jonas declared.

  Their conversation was interrupted then by LeDeux’s brother René, who began tuning up an accordion, of all things, preparing to accompany Lizzie on some song. LeDeux had a washboard, which Caleb assumed he was going to play like a Cajun frottoir. Del had a trumpet.

  “Ladies and gents,” Tante Lulu said, stepping up to the mike, which squealed loudly before René adjusted it for her. Her hair was curly red tonight, which went just super with her purple spandex dress and matching high heels. Actually, a number of the LeDeux women were wearing the same spandex dress in different colors. They planned to put on some kind of a show.

  “We’re here t’night ta celebrate lots of things,” Tante Lulu said, “and helpin’ us is Miss Elizabeth Peachey, the next American Idol.”

  The crowd, at least a hundred of them—where did all these people come from?—clapped and hooted their approval.

  “First off, we wanna recognize all our soldiers fightin’ in different parts of the world, but ’specially Mark Franklin, who was wounded in Af-ganny-stan.” She pointed to Mark, who was trying to slip inside the house, but the sliding door had been locked by his grandmother. Giving in, he gave a little wave, but he was obviously mortified.

  “Lizzie is gonna sing that Lee Greenwood song ‘God Bless the USA.’ Us folks down South know Lee’s songs well. We think Lizzie’ll do him and Mark proud.”

  Tante Lulu stepped back and Lizzie stepped forward. These weren’t the usual instruments accompanying this song, but Lizzie’s voice was powerful and poignant in relaying the lyrics about being proud to be an American and not forgetting those who had died for freedom. Every time she came to the stanza, ‘God Bless the USA’, the crowd clapped and sang along with her.

  She got a standing ovation at the end. There were more than a few teary eyes, especially Abbie and Lily. He and Jonas just gaped at each other. Their sister really was talented.

  Tante Lulu was at the mike now. “We’re also here ta celebrate the reunion of two brothers.”

  Oh, great! He’d forgotten about that. Too late to escape.

  Jonas stared ahead like a deer caught in the headlights as everyone turned to look at the two of them.

  Lizzie took the mike and said, “This is an old song called ‘Brotherly Love’ that was sung by Keith Whitley before he died way too young. It was a duet, with the other part sung by Earl Thomas Conley. Tonight by René LeDeux.” Then she and René proceeded to sing a song whose lyrics hit way too close to home. About a love between two brothers that “time and miles” can’t separate. There were parts of the song that were funny, but mostly sad, concluding that there was something special about brotherly love.

  He and Jonas were speechless amid the applause. He reached over and squeezed Jonas’s hand, a silent promise that they would never be apart for long in the future.

  Lizzie stepped off the little stage then, and Tante Lulu chuckled into the microphone. “We gots us a special guest tonight ta celebrate Tee-John’s birthday. She come all the way from Hollywood.” They dimmed the lights on the little stage, and for a few moments there were sounds of rustling and stumbling and swearing. Finally, when the lights came back on, LeDeux was sitting on a chair raised high like a throne, and there was a huge cake sitting on the stage in front of them. Del blew out an introductory riff, the top of the cake popped open, and out shot . . . Holy crap! Marilyn Monroe. Well, a really good Marilyn Monroe impersonator. Charmaine LeDeux Lanier, in a red spandex dress and red high heels, a blonde Marilyn Monroe wig, and red lipstick began to sing her classic, breathy version of “Happy Birthday.” The crowd howled with laughter and appreciation, then joined in singing to the grinning Cajun birthday boy.

  After that, the music changed back to CDs as the LeDeuxes prepared for some Village People/Motown floor show that they put on periodically. They’d invited Caleb to be the shirtless military guy in their revue, to which he’d replied, “Not in this lifetime!” People went back to eating and drinking and socializing, and Caleb moved through the crowd.

  In the end he came to an alarming conclusion. Claire was not here tonight and never had been.

  The chicken!

  Well, he was in the mood for a little taste of chicken, thank you very much, he decided. It was well past time he stopped being miserable and pathetic and started being happy and pathetic.

  He searched in his pocket for his keys and came up with the St. Jude key chain Tante Lulu had given him earlier. He could swear the old guy winked at him and said, “About time!”

  Chapter 18

  How do I love thee? Let me count the orgasms . . .

  By the time Caleb arrived at Claire’s, he was pissed, hurt, scared, and horny.

  He was pissed because Claire had never come to the party or bothered to tell him she wasn’t coming. He was hurt for the same reason. The horniness needed no explanation.

  And the fear? Shiiit! He could face off with a half-dozen tangos in the middle of a freakin’ Iraq desert without hesitation, but the feelings he was finally beginning to recognize for Claire had him shaking in his shoes. How could he have come to care so much in such a short time? These were life-changing emotions, and he knew for damn sure that he wasn’t going to be able to ride off into the sunset this time with no regrets, which had always been his way.

  He opened Claire’s front door, without knocking, and it slammed back against the wall with a thud.

  The force of his action surprised him, and it sure as hell surprised Claire, who was sitting, peaceful as could be, in an upholstered chair with a cup of tea on one arm and an opened book on the other. Obviously she wasn’t pissed, hurt, scared, or horny. Carefully, he closed the door, then walked over to the kitchen counter, where he placed a bag of food Tante Lulu had pushed on him.

  “Caleb? What are you doing here?”

  “The question is, what are you doing here?”

  “I took a nap and overslept.”

  “Liar.”

  “Okay, I decided it would be better to stay home.”

  “Better for whom?”

  “For both of us.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “Nice talk! Is that food I smell? Yum. I’m hungry.”

  “Later,” he grunted out as he toed off first one loafer, then the other.

  “Making yourself at home, are you, big boy? Would you like a cup of tea?”

  “No, I don’t want any fucking tea, little girl.”

  “Okaaaay. So, are you still leaving on Monday, Mr. Grumpy?”

  Mr. Grumpy? You have no idea. “Later,” he repeated. “We’ll di
scuss it later.”

  “Who named you God to make all the rules?”

  Sticks and stones, baby. Sticks and stones. But then he noticed more boxes lining the room, and his heart rate accelerated like a motorcycle. Brmmmm, brmmmm, brmmmm! “When are you moving?”

  “Later,” she said with a grin.

  Don’t lose your cool, Peachey. Don’t say what you’re really thinking. You gotta ease into a thing like this. Undoing his belt, he tugged his polo shirt out of his pants and yanked it over his head, tossing it behind him.

  “What . . . What are you doing?” she said, standing. Unfortunately, or fortunately, the irritation in her voice was overruled by her eyes, which appeared fascinated by the movement of his hands undoing his zipper.

  He slowed down, just so she could enjoy the show. Then he shrugged off his khakis and briefs all in one swoop. “What am I doing? I’m doing what I should have done days ago. Knocking down that friggin’ wall you’ve put up.”

  She made a little squeaking sound as she backed away from him.

  “Claire, you have no reason to be afraid of me. I’ll leave if you want me to, but I’ve gotta tell you, my brain is really screwed up right now.” And my heart. “I need you.”

  She didn’t speak, and he realized that she’d squeaked not out of fear but for another reason. Her eyes were glued to a part of his anatomy that was standing out like a flagpole. He glanced down, did a double take, and might have made a squeaking sound himself. Oh, good Lord! I look like a male porno star. I don’t think I’ve ever been this big. It’s almost embarrassing. Almost.

  He advanced on her. For every step backward she took, he took two forward. Soon she was trapped between the door and his world-class blue steeler.

  She was wearing a Garfield nightshirt and nothing else. But not for long. Once she was as naked as he was, he said, “About that wall.”

  “I’m probably going to regret this later, but damn the wall.” She leaped upward, latching her arms around his shoulders and her legs around his waist, her face buried in his neck.

  His eyes probably rolled back in his head. Blue was practically doing the rumba. And then, before he had a chance to say Holy crap! or unroll his eyes or tell Blue to behave, Claire wiggled her ass lower and somehow managed to ease herself down to just the right spot. Then, oh, God, bam, she moved herself onto him. All. The. Way.