The Legacy

by Shirley Jump

  He hadn’t left yet. There was still time. “Thanks,” Marjo said, and with a quick wave headed for her car.

  She didn’t know what she’d say to Paul when she caught up with him, but she knew she didn’t want to leave things the way they had at the opera house.

  Marjo started the car and was just turning in the direction of the bed-and-breakfast when a thought slammed into her.

  Gabriel.

  She’d been so focused on finding out where Paul was that Luc’s words hadn’t even registered. Gabriel hadn’t shown up to help Luc. He hadn’t been at the opera house, either.

  Marjo whipped the car around and hurried toward home, pulling into the circular drive in front of the house, the tires squealing and spitting out the crushed seashells. She tried to think. When was the last time she’d seen Gabriel?

  Oh, God. Yesterday afternoon, when she’d given him the money to go to the gumbo cook-off.

  She’d been in such a rush to get to the opera house this morning, to be sure everything was in perfect shape, that she’d never even checked to make sure Gabriel got up and had breakfast.

  She raced into the house and ran into Gabriel’s room. His bed was neatly made, just as Marjo had left it the day before when she’d changed the linens.

  She headed for the kitchen. The beignets she’d brought home for breakfast yesterday from Loretta’s bakery—all six of them—were still sitting on the plate above the microwave.

  “Gabriel!” she called, running into the living room.

  On the mantel she spied a small envelope marked with her name. She tore it open, fumbling with the sheet of paper inside.

  “Dear Marjo,” Gabriel had written in his familiar looping handwriting. “Don’t worry about me. Darcy and I are together. We’ll be back on Saturday night. Love, Gabriel.”

  He was gone.

  Worry constricted around her chest, squeezing out her breath. She dashed into the kitchen and started calling everyone in Indigo she could think of—Alain, Doc Landry, Henry, Luc and then, finally, the number she should have considered first.

  Darcy’s.

  Darcy wasn’t at her apartment, but her parents were home. It took about five seconds for Marjo and the St. Cyrs to put the pieces together.

  Darcy’s parents hadn’t heard from her since yesterday, either, when she’d mentioned something about an appointment in Lafayette. Since Darcy lived alone, they hadn’t thought much about it. But now, they were concerned, too. Marjo hung up and waited an agonizing twenty minutes for Darcy’s father to go over to his daughter’s apartment to discover she hadn’t been home, not even to feed her cat, though she’d left two open cans of cat food on the kitchen floor.

  Marjo hung up the phone after the second conversation, promising to call Darcy’s parents if she heard anything at all. She called Alain again and told him everything she knew so far. Outside, rain began to fall, throwing her back sixteen years to another late night, another storm.

  And a horrible outcome.

  “Don’t worry, Marjo,” Alain said. “They probably got tied up at some museum or something. Lost track of time.”

  “Yeah,” she said, but she didn’t believe it. Gabriel wouldn’t do that.

  And yet, as she thought back, she realized that he might. In the last year he’d been stretching the boundaries more and more, a little at a time. There’d been times when he’d taken off for hours without a word. She’d thought it was a phase, but clearly, she’d been wrong.

  There was a knock and she raced to answer it, flinging the door open. “Gab—”

  Paul stood on the opposite side of the screen door, a bottle of wine in one hand and a loaf of Loretta’s bread in the other. “I hated the way we ended things today. I thought we should talk. And what better way to do that than over a picnic?”

  “A picnic? But it’s dark and rainy—”

  “And the perfect time to spread out a blanket and cozy up together.”

  She opened the door and let him in, needing his comforting presence. She took the wine and bread from him, laying the items on a nearby table.

  “Marjo? Is something wrong?”

  “Gabriel’s missing.” A sob left her throat. The worry that she’d managed to hold on to by keeping busy suddenly sprang free.

  “Are you sure?”

  She nodded, then started pacing again, unable to stand still. “He left a note that said he’d be home tonight. I think he left yesterday afternoon. I didn’t even notice. I was in such a hurry to leave this morning, and I should have checked on him, but—”

  “Shh, shh,” Paul said, crossing to her and taking her into his arms. “It’s okay. We’ll find him.”

  “What if we don’t? What if he’s been in a car accident or lost or…” She threw up her hands, unable to voice anything worse.

  “Okay, let’s start at the beginning,” he said. “Where do you think he went?”

  Marjo pulled away from Paul and crossed to the window, wishing, praying, for headlights to appear. “Out with Darcy. Maybe to Lafayette, because she told her parents she had an appointment there. They might have just gone to see the city. Gabriel loves cities. The busy-ness of them, the lights. But overnight? Where would he have stayed? How would he have found a hotel?”

  “Does he have a cell phone?”

  She shook her head. “He never needed one. He never leaves the bayou without me.”

  “Until now.”

  Guilt washed over her. If she hadn’t been so tied up with the festival, the opera house and Paul, she would have been paying more attention to Gabriel, and this situation wouldn’t have happened. She closed her eyes and wrapped her arms around her chest, then nodded. “Until now.”

  “Did you call the police?”

  “Indigo’s and Lafayette’s. He’s over twenty-one so there’s nothing they can do. Legally, he can go wherever he wants.”

  “Then the best thing to do is just sit tight. He’s with Darcy, so he should be okay.”

  She wheeled around. “How do you know that? Because you met Darcy once and took a few pictures with Gabriel? He’s not like other boys. He will not be okay.”

  “Marjo, Gabriel isn’t a boy anymore. He’s a young—”

  “Don’t tell me about my brother. I know him better than you do.”

  “You probably do,” he said, going to her and touching her arm gently. “But maybe he’s a bit more grown-up than you think. He’s probably able to handle everything just fine.”

  “And maybe you’re completely wrong and I’m standing here, waiting, when I should be out looking for him. Just like last night when I was in bed with you, instead of thinking about where my brother was. I didn’t pay attention, Paul. If something happens to him—” She reached for the hook by the door and grabbed her sweater and her car keys. “I can’t stay here. I have to do something.”

  But before she could open the door, Gabriel walked in, with Darcy in tow. The two of them were laughing and chatting, but stopped when they saw Marjo’s face.

  “Gabriel! Where have you been?” Marjo shouted, rushing to him and checking him over, making sure he wasn’t injured.

  “Marjo, sit down.”

  She stepped back, startled by the strength in Gabriel’s voice. “Okay,” she said, taking a seat in the armchair.

  Gabriel clasped Darcy’s hand. The two of them exchanged a glance, then Gabriel nodded and turned back to his sister, taking in a breath as he did. “Darcy and I got married yesterday.”

  The words hung in the air for a long time, like a thundercloud. “You’re…married?” she repeated. Even Paul looked stunned.

  Gabriel nodded and held up his left hand, revealing a gold band that matched the one on Darcy’s hand. “Yep.”

  “Gabriel, you can’t just buy a couple of rings and call yourselves married. You need—”

  “A preacher, a blood test and a license. We did all that. I know a lot, Marjo. I’m not stupid.”

  The word hit her like a slap, reminding her of the time she�
��d confronted him after the fire. “I didn’t mean that, Gabriel. I don’t think you’re stupid.”

  “You never see me as a grown-up,” he said, his frustration clear. “I’ll be twenty-two next month, Marjo. I’m not a little boy.”

  “I know that,” she soothed. “But getting married is a big step. Too big—”

  “For someone like me?”

  The pain in his eyes nearly broke her heart. Marjo wanted to take back every mean word said on a playground, every stare in a store, every person who had ever made Gabriel feel that he was different. “No, Gabe, not like that. I just want you to think first.”

  “I did think,” he said. “I love Darcy, and she loves me. And now we’re married.”

  “But you have to think about the rest, the other things that go along with such a huge step. Where are you going to live? Where are you going to work? What about children?”

  “Darcy and I have that all figured out. We’re going to live in her place and I’m gonna work at the funeral home, once it’s built again. And I’m gonna look for a part-time job taking pictures.” Gabriel beamed and pulled his new bride against his side.

  “Everything’s going to be fine, Marjo,” Darcy said. “You’ll see.”

  Marjo wanted to scream at them, to tell them there were a hundred other discussions that needed to be had before making such a choice. That it wasn’t as simple as running off to a city and then settling into Darcy’s one-bedroom. But it was clear Gabriel wasn’t listening.

  “Well, you send Darcy on home,” Marjo said, crossing to the door, taking the situation in hand, as she had so many times before. “Tomorrow we’ll go back into Lafayette and get this annulled.”

  “No!” The word exploded from Gabriel’s lungs. “I will not. I love Darcy and I’m married to her. And you can like that or not. I don’t care.” He spun around and was out the door before Marjo could stop him.

  She rushed after him. “Gabriel!”

  He turned back. “What?”

  “I can’t—” She felt a lump form in her throat. “I can’t lose you.”

  “Oh, Marjo,” Gabriel said, walking back and giving her one of his tight, all-encompassing hugs. He patted her back. “You’ll never lose me. I’m gonna live right here in Indigo.”

  She pulled back and looked into his eyes. He was older, more mature. When had that happened? Why hadn’t she noticed?

  “Oh, Gabe, I’m sorry. I should have listened to you.”

  “That’s okay, Marjo,” he said, the forgiveness coming as easily as his smile.

  And in that moment Marjo knew.

  It was time to let him go.

  “You’re the best, Gabe,” she said softly.

  “No. I’m your brother.”

  She cupped his face, staring into eyes so like her own. “And you always will be. I love you.”

  One more boa constrictor hug, and then he was gone, promising to be at the funeral home tomorrow to help her finish sorting through the rubble.

  As she watched him and Darcy leave, their happiness clear in the way they laughed and hurried to the car, Marjo had the distinct feeling that the more she tried to control, the further it all slipped out of her grasp.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  WHEN MARJO CAME BACK inside the house, Paul met her at the door and led her over to one of the chairs, waiting until she’d sat down. She’d had a hell of a day, but he hoped he could make it better, make up for all that had gone wrong. He took her hands. “Gabriel will be fine, I’m sure.”

  She shook her head. “He’s married, Paul. That’s not fine at all. The funeral home is gone, which means his job is gone, too. How is he going to support her? How is he going to get by? For God’s sake, I still make his sandwiches for him.”

  “Actually, I have something that will take care of one problem.” Paul reached into his back pocket and withdrew a letter. He gave it to Marjo, then waited while she read it. Even he still couldn’t believe the words on the paper.

  “A book contract?” she said, looking up. “For you?”

  “Yes, but we’re going to include Gabriel’s pictures, too. I did what I told you I would, and pitched a story on Indigo to my editor, telling him it would be really cool to see Indigo from two different perspectives, Gabriel’s affectionate one and my more jaded view.” He grinned. “Anyway, Joe loved the idea, but after looking at all the pictures, he said it deserved to go bigger than a few pages in the magazine.”

  “Bigger?”

  “Bigger as in a hardcover, coffee table book.” As he said the words, excitement built inside him again. “My editor called a friend of his in a publishing house and got me a meeting. The editor there had been bugging me for years to stay put long enough to put together a book. Soon as he saw this idea, he was hooked.” Paul touched the paper in her hands. “He gave me this letter as proof of their interest, until we finish hammering out the contract. And, Marjo, I’m going to give Gabriel his portion of the advance. After all, without him, I’d only have half the story of Indigo.”

  “Does Gabriel know about this?”

  Paul nodded. “I talked to him yesterday morning, when I first got back to town. I saw him on my way over to the funeral home to see you. He’s excited, Marjo. This could mean a whole new path. He’s still got a lot to learn and he knows that. He intends to apprentice for a few years, take some classes, work on his skills and at the same time, work at the funeral home once it’s up and running again. But he has a dream, Marjo, a dream he’s excited about.”

  “I’m happy for him,” she said quietly. “I really am. But…” Her voice trailed off and she turned away.

  “I wanted to tell you a hundred times, especially last night and even more this morning.” He trailed a finger along her lips, remembering the look on Gabriel’s face when he’d told him about the contract. The boy had positively lit up with joy. “We were hoping to surprise you tonight, after the festival.”

  She glanced again at the letter, and he waited, sure she’d react with the same happiness as Gabriel. But as the silence stretched out and her posture grew more tense, Paul wasn’t so sure.

  “How could you?” Marjo slipped out of the chair and away from him. “How could you?” she asked again, shaking the letter.

  “How could I what? All I did was talk to a publisher—”

  “And fill his head with a dream that may never come true.”

  “Nothing is set in stone yet, but I don’t see any problems.”

  Tears streamed down Marjo’s face. “Do you know where I was when my parents died, Paul?” She didn’t wait for him to answer. She crossed the room to the window and looked out at the camellias. “I was at an audition. I was supposed to come home that weekend from college, to watch Gabe while my parents went to a party. But at the last minute, I backed out and went to a goddamned audition instead, putting myself ahead of my family. Gabe got sick, the babysitter panicked and my parents rushed home to take care of him. But the road was wet and the tires were old and—” She shook her head, unable to finish the sentence.

  “That wasn’t your fault,” Paul said. Marjo shook her head, not hearing him. He tipped her chin up with his hand. “It wasn’t your fault, Marjo.”

  The words echoed in her mind, and though others had told her the same thing over the years, it was as if she really hadn’t understood them until now.

  It wasn’t her fault.

  It wasn’t anyone’s fault. It was just a tragic, terrible accident.

  “You’ve done a wonderful job raising him,” Paul went on. “He is one of the kindest, gentlest people I have ever met. He will always need you, but in a different way from when he was little. He’s a man, a married man now. You can let go and he’ll be okay.”

  “But—”

  He gave her a grin. “There’s always going to be a but, Marjo. The trick is learning not to think about them. It took me a hell of a long time to understand that.” He took her hand and led her back to the sofa, lowering himself to his knees in front of h
er. “My parents had an awful marriage, and I never wanted to end up like them, my father gone all the time, looking for work, my mother holed up in her room until the day she died. Then I married Diane, and guess what? I was an awful husband. I didn’t talk to her, didn’t communicate. And I was gone. All the time.”

  “Why?”

  He slid the backpack off his shoulder and onto the floor. “Because my camera became my way of talking. You said something to me one day about how I distanced myself from people. That I wouldn’t open up. You were right. I’ve used a camera to keep me from ever looking head-on at life.” He traced a finger along her jawline, seeing in her eyes that she had done the same thing, but for different reasons. “What’s your wall, Marjo?”

  “Paul, I can’t do this. I can’t—”

  “For such a strong woman, you are damned stubborn.” He smiled down at her. “What are you hiding behind?” he asked her softly.

  Marjo was silent for a long while. At last she spoke, her voice so quiet he almost couldn’t hear her.

  “This town,” she said. “I’ve poured my life into it because I thought I was giving back to the people who had helped Gabe and me after our parents died.” She gave him a soft smile. “But you were right. In doing that, I guess I was really just avoiding dealing with everything.”

  “Because you were an instant mom and business owner and didn’t have time to deal with anything else.”

  She thought about that for a second. “Yeah.”

  “Well, the town is fine, and your brother is a married man, and there’s a Canadian on his knees in your house. Do you think you’re ready to deal with a little change?”

  She smiled, and he could see that a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. “Depends on why that Canadian is on his knees.”

  “I read the letters you gave me. And I visited Alexandre’s and Amelie’s grave.”

  “And?”

  “Theirs was quite the love story. And it showed me that if I walk away from Indigo now, I’ll be leaving behind not just part of my own history but one of the best things that ever happened to me. You.”