Acadian Waltz

by Alexandrea Weis

  “I didn’t realize you and my uncle were so close.”

  Jean Marc smiled, a warm and uplifting smile that muted the sadness in his eyes. “Jack was always a second father to me. My dad was too busy with the business, and when he wasn’t doing that, he was bailing Henri out of some mess.”

  “I’m sorry. I’m his niece. I should have been more involved, and then maybe I could have helped him.”

  Jean Marc reached across the table for my hand. “Don’t blame yourself. You didn’t know. You aren’t responsible for your uncle, Nora.”

  “Then why are you?” I questioned, feeling a sudden twinge of something strange as his strong hand held mine.

  “Your uncle has been good to me.” He let go of my hand. “He’s been there for me and listened to me.” He lowered his eyes to the worn surface of the old pine table. “I owe him a debt.”

  I shook my head. “You owe him the debt of friendship. I owe him the debt of family.”

  “‘It’s better to owe a debt of love than blood,’ my grandfather used to always say. I never realized what he meant until now.” He paused and the chill returned to his dark eyes. “I can look after Jack here. You won’t have time to keep coming back and forth.”

  I stared at him, a little taken aback by his comment. “I can’t ask you to do that.”

  “Nora, you have a great deal going on in your life. You have your wedding to plan and all the changes your new life will bring.”

  “Did Uncle Jack tell you I was getting married?”

  “He mentioned you were going to marry a doctor.” He paused and once again his eyes changed and a glint of warmth appeared in their darkness. “But he doesn’t believe you’re in love with this guy.”

  I sat back in my chair, feeling slightly dumbfounded. “He said that?”

  Jean Marc rose from his chair. “Make sure you love the man you’re going to marry, Nora. Otherwise, marriage can be a real bitch.”

  I looked up into his face. “You were married once, weren’t you?”

  He nodded. “Lasted less than a year. She was the daughter of a business associate I knew in Dallas. It was wrong from the start.”

  “Wrong?” I asked, realizing how little I actually knew about the man.

  He snapped his fingers. “There was no spark, no passion between Cynthia and me. Love needs passion to ignite. Without it you just have hormones.” He directed his attention to the small clock on the far wall. “You’d better get back to the city. It’s getting late. I’ll come back in a few hours and check on him. He’s much more reasonable when he’s sober.” Jean Marc placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder. “Don’t worry, I’ll find something for him to do at the crawfish farms or, if need be, at the house.” He gave me an encouraging smile.

  I stood from my chair. “Thank you, Jean Marc. You’ve been a good friend to my uncle and I’m very grateful.” And then, without thinking, I stood on my toes and gently kissed his lips.

  The electricity that passed between us was unlike anything I had ever experienced. I could feel my body throb with the touch of his lips against mine. But before I could pull away, he threw his muscular arms about me and deepened his kiss. I could smell his woody cologne mixed with the scent of the bayou out back. I could hear the wild chirping of the birds in the trees along with the pounding of my heart. All my senses came to life, and the effect made me slightly dizzy. John’s kisses had never been like this.

  I pulled away first, overwhelmed by the frenzy of sensations raging within me.

  He took a step back from me. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, but the way the light reflected in his eyes, I sensed he really wasn’t.

  I smiled, trying to appear unflustered. “Don’t worry about it.” I turned to go and grabbed on to the back of the chair beside me to keep my knees from giving way.

  “Nora?” Jean Marc whispered.

  I straightened up and faced him. My stomach clenched as I took in his smug grin and the way he was dissecting my features as if he were a detective interrogating a murder suspect.

  After several agonizing seconds, he finally said, “Are you sure you want to marry that doctor?”

  I hastily lowered my gaze to the old linoleum floor. “You don’t know John. We are a good team and—”

  But before I could finish, he stormed out of the kitchen. A few minutes later, I heard the gun of an engine and the screech of tires on my uncle’s shell-covered drive.

  I kicked the little pine table next to me. “Damn it!”

  I fought to regain control over my emotions. I was engaged to another man, so how could I possibly have feelings for a man I had always despised? I assured myself that I was simply exhibiting some nerves over my impending marriage; at least, I hoped that’s all it was. To consider any other reason was, quite simply, dangerous.

  Chapter 8

  I returned home to find John preparing dinner in my kitchen. Standing next to my green cabinets, he was holding a mixing bowl, and stirring what appeared to be biscuit dough. He still had heavy dark circles under his eyes and was dressed in only his scrub pants. The pale skin on his thin chest and lean shoulders looked gray under the fluorescent lights of the kitchen.

  I eased up next to him and tenderly kissed his rough cheek. “Tough night?”

  “Knife and gun club after ten every weekend at University. I had three gang fights. Four guys with knife wounds, six with gunshots. Lost about half. But that wasn’t the worst of it.”

  I patted his chest. “Damn drugs. Sorry it was so bad.”

  “I’m used to it.” He put his bowl of dough down on the white-tiled counter. “But I will never get used to the really weird stuff. Had a woman last night, about twenty, who was involved in some bizarre cult thing. She was even wearing a long white robe when she came in.” He picked up his blue coffee mug. “Her musculature supporting both eyeballs had been cut away. Never seen anything like it. Looked like a surgeon’s work. Left both eyeballs just hanging by the retina; no blood and no blunt trauma to the head. Luckily, the woman was out of it…some drug they gave her at whatever twisted ritual they performed.” He let a long sigh escape his lips. “She’s on a ventilator now. Probably won’t survive the night. The things people do to each other, and then we have to clean it up.” He took a sip from his mug.

  “Do they have any idea who did it?”

  He shook his head. “I had the police up my ass half the night asking a lot of questions. They took her blood to their lab for toxicology screening to try and find out what she was on. Nothing I’ve ever seen. Bad night all around.” He paused and looked over at me. “How was brunch with your parents?” he asked, and then took another sip from his coffee mug.

  My stomach suddenly curled into knots at the mention of brunch. I debated for a moment if I should mention the incident with my uncle and Jean Marc.

  “Brunch was fine,” I told him.

  John peered down into his coffee. “Uh huh. Don’t try and lie to me, Nora Kehoe. Something happened today. What is it?”

  My heart rose to my throat.

  He grinned at me. “I can just imagine what Claire had to say today after our dinner last weekend.”

  “Oh.” I sighed as a wave of relief spread throughout my body. “Yes, she was impossible.” I leaned my hip against the counter and folded my arms across my chest.

  “Did she have any lists?”

  I squirmed and tried to avoid John’s probing eyes. “Lists?”

  “Oh, let me guess. Was it reception or church lists? Or did she have the guest list already started?” He rolled his head back and gave a warm, genuine chuckle that eased the knots in my belly.

  I forced my mind back to earlier that morning and the brunch with my parents. After my kiss with Jean Marc, the conversation with my mother did not seem so intimidating anymore.

  “Reception list,” I stated as I unfolded my arms.

  “Where?”

  “I think she said something about Gallier Hall.”

  John nodded his head appr
ovingly. “Difficult place to get, I hear. Have to make reservations a year in advance.”

  “Mother has friends. She can get it without the wait.” I made my way to the sink.

  “Really? Everybody who’s anybody has their reception there. It’s such a wonderful historic building. Can you imagine if we had our reception there?” I heard him say behind me. Then there was silence.

  My hands gripped the edge of the sink as I waited for John to announce his next plan.

  “Tell your mother we’ll take it!”

  “We would have to set a date,” I clarified without turning to look at him.

  I heard his bare feet slap against my kitchen floor as he went to the far wall where I kept my calendar. Instantly, he was at my side, holding the calendar in his hands.

  I watched, feeling suddenly detached, as he flipped through the months until he came to August.

  “The beginning of August?”

  I stared into his face and he smiled at me. His gray eyes sparkled despite their fatigue. He flipped the calendar again.

  “September? How about the seventeenth.”

  I lowered my gaze to the stainless sink. “John, we’re not even officially engaged. You haven’t asked me, and we haven’t worked out where we want to—”

  He put the calendar down on the counter and grabbed my hands. “Nora, marry me.” He placed my hands against his bare chest. “Just say yes and it will all work out. There’s nothing to be afraid of. We love each other.”

  He felt so sure against my hands, and for a moment I believed that John Blessing could remove all the burdens from my shoulders. He loved me and he was good to me; what else could there be?

  “Yes, John. I will marry you,” I whispered.

  He put his hands about my face and very tenderly kissed me.

  “September seventeenth,” he declared and stepped back from me.

  I examined his eyes and felt his strength flow into me. “September seventeenth.”

  He gave me one of his winning smiles. “Go call your mother and I’ll take a shower.” He glanced down at his watch. “There should be some jewelry stores still open. Let’s go and get you a ring.” He kissed me once more on the lips and turned away, heading for the bedroom.

  Wanting to stifle my growing feeling of unease, I searched my kitchen for a distraction. I retrieved John’s blue coffee mug and bowl of biscuit dough from the white-tiled counter. When I placed the items in the sink, the memory of Jean Marc’s kiss drifted across my mind. I shook my head, forcing the vision from my thoughts. Without hesitation, I reached for the phone on the kitchen counter and dialed my mother’s cell phone number. It was time to get back to reality.

  * * *

  Lou would not hear of John and I shopping at any other jewelry store than his. The following day, after I left work, John met me at Lou’s store located on Canal Street.

  John was still wearing his green hospital scrubs when he came running up to meet me at the front entrance to Schuller’s Jewelry Store. He kissed my cheek hurriedly and opened the door for me.

  “I’ve only got about an hour and then I have to get back for the evening shift, Nora.”

  “We can do this another day, John, when you have more time.”

  He shook his head and ushered me into the store. “No, I know exactly what we’re looking for. Shouldn’t take us too long to find it.”

  I shrugged my shoulders and walked inside, not exactly sure what John thought we were looking for.

  When I stepped into the front of the store, I spotted Lou talking with another man. The gentleman’s back was to me as he and Lou stood before a long display case. I noticed his dark, wavy hair, and the way his broad shoulders flexed beneath his snug, black polo shirt. Something about him reminded me of someone I could not place. When Lou nodded to me, the dark-haired man turned to face us, and the sight of him made me gasp with surprise.

  “Nora, John, why don’t you come over here and say hello?” Lou proposed, waving at us.

  As John pulled me further into the store, the stranger’s black eyes took in my figure. I recognized the square face and protruding brow, but the long white scar down his right cheek was something I had not seen before. Around his thick neck was a gold rope chain, and at the end of the chain was a strange medallion, a square with a circle inside of it, and then a triangle inside of the circle.

  I looked up from the medallion and the man seemed to sneer as I came closer, almost as if he were a demon coveting a righteous sinner.

  Lou nodded to the gentleman beside him. “Nora, you remember Henri Gaspard, don’t you?”

  Except for the scar, Henri was identical in every way to his twin brother, Jean Marc. But Henri’s eyes were different. They seemed darker than his brother’s, as if they truly were made from something sinister.

  “My God!” Henri exclaimed. “Little Nora Kehoe.” His voice did not have the same velvety smoothness as Jean Marc’s; it was harder and edgier, as if tinted with a touch of desperation. “I haven’t seen you since…must be ten years at least.”

  I held out my hand to him. He took it, and I noticed the array of fine gold rings and the expensive gold watch about his wrist.

  “How are you, Henri?”

  “Doing real well, Nora.” He turned and patted Lou on the back. “Been making my own way here in the city for some time now.”

  “I was sorry to hear about your father. Jean Marc told me about his passing a few years back.”

  Henri laughed, more like a bellow. “Yeah, my brother the great, Jean Marc. Daddy always preferred him to me.” He waved a hand covered in gold rings before me. “But I don’t care. Let him have that smelly old fish business.” Henri’s eyes wandered to John. “Is this the fiancé Lou’s been telling me about?”

  John stepped forward and held out his hand to Henri. “John Blessing.”

  Henri took his hand. “Glad to meet you, John, Hope you’re gonna take good care of our Nora here. I’ve known her since she was in diapers running around Daddy’s pier with my brother chasing after her.”

  “Really?” John turned and raised his eyebrows to me. “She never told me about that.”

  “It was a long time ago,” I admitted.

  “Oh, yeah,” Henri went on. “Nora was like the little sister me and Jean Marc never had. My brother just adored her.” He smiled, or should I say leered at me, then Henri turned to Lou. “Well, I’ve gotta head out, but I’ll be back next week to pick up my order.”

  “All right, Henri,” Lou said as he shook the man’s hand.

  Henri gave me one last glance and then set his eyes on John. “Good luck you two.”

  “Thank you,” John replied.

  I waited until Henri had left the store before I confronted Lou.

  “You know him?” I asked, astonished that Lou had business dealings with the black sheep of the Gaspard family.

  “Yeah, for a couple of years now. He brings in silly designs for gold and diamond pieces he wants. Sometimes he brings in his girlfriends and buys them tokens.” Lou nodded to the door Henri had just exited through. “He’s a pretty good customer, pays cash every time.”

  “Does Mother know you do business with her former nephew?”

  Lou shook his baldhead and rolled his pale hazel eyes. “No, and you can’t tell her. I’ll never hear the end of it.”

  “Her former nephew?” John questioned.

  “Mother was married to Etienne Gaspard before she met my father. Etienne was Henri’s uncle. When she left Etienne for my father, Etienne Gaspard shot himself.”

  “Your mother is just full of surprises,” John quipped as he looked from me to Lou.

  “It’s not what you think, John,” Lou insisted. “Etienne Gaspard was a drunk, a liar, and a hustler. He shot himself by accident while cleaning a loaded gun.”

  “But Mother prefers telling the story so it sounds like Etienne died of love for her. She had me believing it for years until Jean Marc set me straight.”

  John arched on
e dark eyebrow at me. “Jean Marc? Isn’t that the guy your mother mentioned the other night at dinner?”

  “Yes, he’s Henri’s twin brother,” I explained. “He runs the family business, Gaspard Fisheries.”

  “I’ve heard that Jean Marc is the better half of the Gaspard boys, despite what Claire says of him. I’ve never met him.” Lou patted my shoulder. “But Nora knows him real well.”

  “Not that well,” I quickly corrected with a nervous titter. “He’s a friend of my uncle’s and his boss, so I’ve seen him around Uncle Jack’s boat quite a bit,” I added, hoping to avoid any further explanation of my relationship with Jean Marc.

  John shrugged and eyed his stainless steel watch. ”Look, I don’t mean to rush you, but, I’ve only got an hour and then I have to get back to the emergency room.”

  Lou held up his hands to assuage John’s worry. “No problem. Come on in the back and we will find something wonderful for Nora.” Lou started toward a metal door to the side of the display counter.

  John took a few paces to catch up with my stepfather, leaving me behind. “Lou, I was thinking of a pear-shaped, three-carat diamond to start, set in platinum.”

  “Sounds good,” Lou agreed as he moved up to the door and punched in a security code on the keypad next to it.

  “Then I thought perhaps some baguettes,” John continued as he stood behind Lou, waving his hands about as he shared his design.

  I slowly approached the two men just as a loud buzzer sounded and the heavy metal door snapped open. As I walked through the security door to the back of the store and listened to John describe his idea of the perfect engagement ring, that nagging pain started up again in my stomach. Only this time it was stronger than it had ever been before.