Broken Bayou

by Rhonda R. Dennis

  I want to laugh so badly, but that would mean removing my finger from under my nose and the threat of getting another hit of that vile aroma has me releasing more of a snigger than the full belly laugh I’m containing. “But are you okay,” I ask in between giggles.

  He slowly rolls to his side, and with Cal’s assistance, he’s able to stand. George, who has been surprisingly quiet through the entire escapade, waves his arm in an exasperated shooing motion before shuffling inside. In about a minute or so, he shuffles back outside and tosses a shirt in Brant’s direction. “Here. You stink,” he grumbles before going back inside and flipping off the light. We’re once again forced to adjust our vision to the dim light of the moon.

  Brant shucks off the monkey poop shirt and tosses it into the large rolling can near the garage. He’s a shivering mess in no time, so I send him upstairs to shower before he leaves. Brant shakes hands with the animal control guy then takes the steps two at a time to get up to my apartment. Cal makes sure he has a warm coffee waiting when he gets out.

  “I can’t thank you enough for the shower. I’d have puked the entire ride home if I had to stay smelling like that,” Brant says when he joins us in the kitchen.

  “No problem,” I answer. “Why was there a chimpanzee at large? Wait, let me add to that. Why was a red-dress-wearing chimpanzee at large in the bayou region of South Louisiana?”

  “Hell if I know. It freaked me the hell out when the dress appeared out of nowhere. The damn thing’s hair was so dark that it blended in with the shadows. That’s why we only saw the dress floating around. I was watching it move around on my phone, my mind reeling because I couldn’t figure it out. Then, I swear to you it was like something from a horror movie. It launched from the tree and landed in front of one of the cameras. It went from floating dress to snarling incisors in seconds flat.”

  “Did you pee your pants?” Cal teases.

  “I came close, dude. I’m not even going to lie. Anyway, it backed away from the camera enough for me to finally make out what it was, so I dispatched animal control. I didn’t want you outside because I wasn’t sure how the animal would react.”

  “So, all mysteries are now solved, right?” I ask.

  “All the ones related to this case. I can finally rest. Good night, and see you two Thursday.” He starts to walk away, but stops once his hand is on the door knob. “Are you sure about this Thanksgiving thing? Shouldn’t it be time spent with just you and your new family?”

  “My Sugar said I was to invite anyone I wanted, and Brant, in case you haven’t figured it out yet—you are my new family. Blood ties simply mean you’re related; being there for each other is what makes you a real family.”

  He nods briefly and smiles before opening the door. “See you Thursday at Sugar and Cookie’s.” He chuckles. “I still get a kick out of that. The old man lets you call him Cookie.” With that parting thought, Brant disappears into the night.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Christmas is a couple of weeks away when the semester ends, and we find ourselves amidst a much needed break. It’s refreshing to have life slowly become normal—more normal than it’s ever been for me or Cal for that matter. The chimpanzee mystery was solved when Brant discovered the owner was scared to report it missing, but after the reports were released in the paper, she finally came forward and fessed up. Poor thing had been missing for months and was surviving by foraging in the neighbors’ yards.

  We’ve been spending lots of time in New Orleans with the family. Some days we explore the past, but more often, we leave it behind to create new memories. We were there to help take down the fall decorations and replace them with Christmas ones. Gran Viv and Pop Sam insist on equal time, so we start at one place and finish our New Orleans visits at another. Sometimes it’s much nicer when everyone just meets at one spot, but those days often run into nighttime visits, as well. Though it’s not incredibly far away, Cal and I find ourselves spending most of our time on the road or in the city, so after much debate, we decide to make the move to New Orleans sometime after the holidays.

  In the meantime, Cal has let go of some of his anger and has been making regular visits to see his father. After lots of soul searching, he’s decided to drop Gage as his last name and has legally assumed Donnelly. Felton raised him, but discovering how tarnished the Gage name truly is, and being that he has no true ties to it, the decision was actually pretty easy. The hard part for him is getting used to being Cal Donnelly after being Cal Gage all these years.

  We decide to make the best of our first and last Christmas at the quaint apartment, so Cal chops, hauls, and sets up a beautiful tree for us to decorate. We’re snuggled together on the sofa, our attention shifting between the twinkling lights on the tree and the Christmas movie on the TV when there is a knock at the door. Cal moves to answer it, but I stop him by resting my hand on his chest.

  “I’ll get it,” I say with a smile. Fully expecting to see George or Brant on the other side of the door, I’m shocked to find a bundled up Antoine looking down at his boots. He shuffles nervously once I open the door.

  “Hey, look. Sorry to barge in on you like this, but I figure turnabout’s fair play, right? Like you didn’t give me no warning before you looked me up and showed up at my shop…”

  I nod. Hearing the conversation, Cal is by my side in an instant. “Who’s this?” he asks.

  “I’m not here to start no mess or anything. I just been thinking about what your girl here was saying when she came down to visit me at the garage, and I started to see her point. I’m Antoine Belanger, and I suppose that technically makes me your uncle. Sorry I ain’t got much to offer.”

  Cal looks stunned. “No, please. Come in. It’s nice to meet you.” He turns to me as Antoine sets down the box he’s carrying to remove his coat. “You searched him out?”

  Not sure if I should be apologetic or proud, I take the middle ground and simply say, “Yes.” I offer Antoine a cup of coffee, which he accepts. I head to the kitchen to get it brewing while he and Cal take a seat on the sofa.

  “Before anything gets all out of control and such, I want you to know that I asked your lady there to forget she visited. I ain’t smart, don’t have much money, and our family name ain’t the best. The old man was a mean, rotten bastard who beat the crap out of us on a regular basis just because he felt it would make us grow up strong. I run a garage, I work hard, and I do okay.”

  “Will you tell me about my mom?” Cal asks.

  “She was quite a bit older than me. Look, I brought you this box of stuff. We aren’t the most sentimental family, so sorry to say there’s not much in there, but you might find some of it interesting.”

  Cal opens the box and pulls out a stack of pictures. Antoine starts narrating the story behind each one, and before long, the men are deep in meaningful conversation. The coffee finished brewing long ago, but hearing them connect, especially when Antoine insisted there would be no common ground leaves me a bit weepy. Everything has come full circle. We both have our pasts, our presents, and our futures mapped out. Life can’t get any better…. but then it does.

  One thing I have to say about my grandparents is that they fully believe in making up for lost time. The five of us sit in the bride’s chamber awaiting our cue to prepare for the processional. It was such a difficult task to choose which grandfather to ask to walk me down the aisle that I consulted with my grandmothers. Much to my chagrin, I was accused of being sexist because women can escort brides down the aisle just as well as men can. So, because my grandparents seem to be perpetually fixated in the generation of protests and demonstrations, I have FOUR people escorting me down the aisle to meet up with my future husband.

  Cookie landed the St. Louis Cathedral for the wedding, a tremendously larger venue than their home, where I’d originally planned on having the service. So as the grandparents work to figure out their final placements before the wedding, I sneak one final look in the mirror. Everything is simple and elegant fr
om my dress to my veil. My Sugar told the seamstress that she should think of Grace Kelly when she made the gown, and she did just that. I feel like a princess, and though some might have been upset that they didn’t have much input into their wedding, I relished having bossy family members eager to make my day as special as they could. Family is something that many take for granted, but not me. I’m blessed, and I know it.

  The volume escalates as the geriatric quartet argues over who will be first, so on and so forth. Finally, I stop them. “Sugar and Cookie, why don’t you wait midway up the aisle ahead of us. Gran and Pop, you walk me up halfway then I go with Cookie and Sugar the rest of the way with you right behind us. From there, we all spread out with one couple on each side of me until the Father asks about giving me away, blah, blah, blah….” They stare each other down before eventually conceding.

  We’re told it’s time for the wedding to begin, and I take a slow calming breath before meeting up with Gran and Pop. Arms interlocked we make our way down the aisle until it’s time for Sugar and Cookie to join in. Seeing Cal melts my heart, and I’m so brimming with happiness that I completely ignore the fact that Best Man Brant is winking and waving at the cousin I introduced him to after we met during Thanksgiving dinner.

  “I don’t deserve you,” Cal tells me when I meet him at the altar.

  “Damn straight,” Pop grumbles, “but you make her happy, so you’ll do.”

  I playfully roll my eyes while mouthing, sorry. The service goes incredibly smoothly, and being that he’s on bond pending trial, Cal’s father is able to attend the service—something that meant a lot to both of the Donnelly men. The cathedral rumbles with applause after we share our first kiss as husband and wife, and as soon as we’re announced as Dr. and Dr. Callahan Donnelly, Cal whisks me from the church.

  Once we’re at the base of the steps, he hugs me tightly, twirling me around and around. “I’m the luckiest man alive right now!” he screams to the growing crowd. My giggles are smothered by his kisses, and I don’t even care that random tourists are snapping our picture. The congregation makes their way outside, we’re sent off with loud applause, cat calls, and whistles. “See ya’ll in a few!” Cal hollers, taking my hand and running towards the horse-drawn buggy waiting to bring us to the reception hall.

  A hard yank stops me in my tracks, and I realize someone has a tight grip on my wrist. Cal stops to see what’s happening, and I want to scream when I realize it’s the same fortune teller from my first trip to New Orleans. “No. I don’t want to hear anything you have to say. My life is only just calming down from the last time you stopped me.”

  She smiles broadly, her colorful scarves shifting in the breeze. “You’ll want to hear this.”

  I vehemently shake my head. “You said that the last time. No. I don’t want to hear it.”

  “It’s my gift to you. A wedding present.”

  “Will you please let go of me?” I say trying to break free from her grip.

  She closes her eyes and inhales deeply. “Blue. Pink. Blue. Then time just for two. Marriage is great. Love is grand. Together forever, Cal is your man.”

  “Wait. How did you know his name?” I ask, stunned. “Cal, how does she know your name?”

  Wide-eyed he shrugs. “I haven’t gotten past the blue, pink, blue. Does that mean kids?”

  The mystical woman’s bright red lips curl in a devious smile. “Carlyssa knows all.” With a wave and a laugh that echoes loudly through the Quarter, she lifts her long flowing skirt to sashay towards Pirate’s Alley. Her laughter is still heard even once she’s disappeared from sight.

  Still stunned, Cal helps me into the horse-drawn carriage. “Did you get her to do that?” he asks.

  “No! I was going to ask you the same thing. How did she know your name?”

  “Maybe there really IS something to all of this stuff? She was pretty accurate with her first prediction.”

  “Yeah, she was,” I concur.

  “So three kids? Ready to get started?” Cal asks before kissing me passionately. The passersby on the street cheer madly, some yelling obscenities, and the carriage driver clicks the reigns so the horse will get to our destination quickly. The carriage lurches forward, and we’re off to officially begin married life. I can’t imagine being happier than being Dr. Cheyenne Donnelly, but it happened the day I welcomed my first son into the world, and I became Mom.

  In Oklahoma, I was lost, sad, and uncertain. Truth be known, I was a hair away from ending it all before that recruitment email came to me. Not only did I find eventual solace from going on this journey, I literally found myself—my REAL self. Whatever or whoever it was that brought me here—be it fate, God, ghosts of the past, or anything else-- I’m incredibly grateful. Red dirt is my past, but black dirt means I’m home.

  THE END

  Also by Rhonda R. Dennis

  The Green Bayou Novels (Romantic Suspense)

  Going Home

  Awakenings

  Déjà Vu

  Unforeseen

  Between Four and Five: A Green Bayou Extra

  Deceived

  Green Bayou After Five: Connie’s Wild Night

  Between Five and Six: A Green Bayou Extra

  Vengeance

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  Magnolia Blossoms (Romantic Comedy)

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  Yours Always (Emotional Contemporary Romance)