Acadian Waltz

by Alexandrea Weis

  Chapter 9

  Two weeks later, I was sitting behind my desk at work, going through some figures for the monthly reports, when Steve waltzed into my office, fifteen minutes late as usual. I never minded and over the past few weeks, I had come to savor those extra few minutes alone before my day began.

  “Oh, my God!” Steve gasped as he stood dramatically holding the doorframe of my office. “When did you get that?” He pointed to the platinum three-carat, pear-shaped diamond that was on the third finger of my left hand.

  I looked down at the diamond. “Oh, that,” I stated, nonchalantly.

  “‘Oh, that,’” Steve mimicked. He bounded to my desk in two steps and grabbed my left hand, pulling it to his face. “We could have plugged the breach in the Seventeenth Street Canal with that thing.”

  I sighed. “Yeah, it’s a little big.”

  He looked up from the ring. “Most women I know would be jumping up and down with joy, showing this to every employee and patient in the hospital, and not have the expression on their faces that you have right now.”

  I yanked back my hand. “What expression?”

  “The one that makes you look like you’re going to your gynecologist appointment.”

  “You’re being silly.” I directed my attention to the figures before me.

  “No, I get it, Nora.” Steve stepped back from my desk. “You’re not in love with this guy. Any woman in love with a man who gave her a rock like that would be ethereal, vibrant, glowing. You’re as pale as a ghost.”

  “Steve, stop it. I have a lot on my plate right now. In addition to planning this wedding, I’m working full time here, getting ready for budget review next week, and I have to start house hunting with John. On top of all of that, I’ve been worried about my uncle.”

  “I thought you called him on Monday?”

  “I did and he says he’s all right, but I haven’t been to see him in over two weeks and I feel guilty, like I should be taking care of him.”

  Just then my office phone rang. Steve, being his impossible self, grabbed for the phone.

  “Orthopedics, Nora Kehoe’s office,” he announced into the receiver. He listened for a few moments then he hit the hold button. “A guy with a very sexy voice said to tell you it’s Jean Marc.” He leered at me. “Two-timing on the doctor already with the fisherman, you hussy!”

  “Drop dead.”

  He smirked. “Only if you give me that ring, and the man who goes with it.” Steve whirled around and headed for my office door.

  “Hello, Jean Marc,” I said after Steve firmly closed the door behind him.

  “Hello, Nora.” His delectable voice came over the line, making my insides warm over. “I was calling to give you some good news.”

  I glimpsed the large diamond on my hand. “I could use some good news.”

  “I got your uncle working at the house.” I could hear the happiness in his voice. “Mother was the one who suggested it. She’s been bugging me to send out a handyman for a while, and told me to hire Jack for the job.” He paused and I could hear another phone ringing in the background. “I think it will be good for both of them. Give Jack something to do and Mother someone to look after.”

  “Jean Marc, that sounds wonderful.” I sighed with relief. “Thank you, thank you so much.”

  “Don’t thank me. My mother is the one who insisted on the arrangement.” He paused and I could hear the shuffle of papers. “I’m just glad that everyone is happy. Jack came over to the house this morning and my mother had a long list for him. She’ll pay him out of her house funds, and we don’t need to worry about the insurance company anymore.”

  “Jean Marc, I don’t know what to say.” I could feel my heart beating a little faster as I listened to his deep voice over the phone.

  “I’m just glad I could help out.”

  “You have been so good to him, and to me. I really appreciate it.”

  “Yeah, well…” He became very quiet and I could hear other voices in the background.

  “I ran into Henri a few weeks ago at my stepfather’s jewelry store. Apparently, he is a pretty good customer there. He says he’s doing well,” I told him.

  “I wouldn’t know.” The cool, hard voice was back. “Henri and I haven’t spoken since I came back from Texas over twelve years ago.”

  An uncomfortable silence hovered between us. “I’m sorry; I shouldn’t have mentioned it,” I finally admitted.

  “No, it’s my fault. I don’t like to talk about my brother.”

  I removed the ring from my finger, suddenly feeling encumbered by it. “I understand. I don’t like talking about my mother.”

  That made him laugh; a heartfelt laugh that sent a pleasurable tingle through my body. “Yes, Claire is a piece of work.” His laughter abated and again the silence loomed. “Well, I’d better let you get back to your job. I know you must be busy, and then you have your wedding to plan.”

  I placed the ring on my desk. “Yes, I have that.”

  “Why don’t you come by the house this Sunday? You can check on Jack, and I know Mother would love to see you. She hasn’t seen you in years.”

  “I would like that, Jean Marc.”

  “I want to see you again, Nora.” The voices in the background began getting louder. “I, ah, have to go. Bye, Nora.” He abruptly hung up.

  I sat there holding on to the receiver as his words replayed in my head. I wasn’t sure how long I was lost in my thoughts before a sudden loud rap on my door startled me. I looked up to see the door to my office open.

  “Sorry to disturb you, Ms. Kehoe,” Steve began trying to sound uncharacteristically professional. “But there is a gentleman here to see you.”

  “I don’t know any gentleman, Steve.”

  I stood from my desk as John stepped out from behind Steve.

  “Hello, Nora.” John moved toward my desk.

  I quickly picked up my ring and placed it back on my finger.

  Steve was standing behind John, holding his hand to his chest and mouthing the words, “I’m in love.”

  “Thank you, Steve,” I commented, trying not to laugh.

  John, fortunately, did not turn around to see Steve sending several rather obscene gestures my way.

  “This is a surprise,” I said, taking in John’s wrinkled scrubs and tennis shoes. His hair seemed a little windblown and he had his usual five o’clock shadow, despite it being only eight in the morning.

  He sank into the chair across from my desk. “Keating, the faculty head of the emergency room for LSU, sent me home for the day.”

  I sat down in my chair. “Why did he send you home?”

  “Too many fish in the pond. He had more residents than he knew what to do with. Several first years started rotating through the ER today, so he told me to take the day off.”

  I noted the dark circles under his eyes. “Why don’t you go home and get some sleep?”

  He shook his head. “Nah, I got three hours last night in the lounge. It was slow in the ER for a change.”

  “How can you keep going on so little sleep?”

  “You get used to it during your residency. Most of us feel great after two or three hours. It’s just the way of it in medicine; no one sleeps, no one eats, no one has a life.”

  I perused the arrangement of charts and budget proposals on my desk. “I would love to take the day off with you and play hooky, but I’m up to my elbows.” I motioned across the desk with my hand.

  “I didn’t come by to ask you to play hooky. I’m on my way to your mother’s house. She needs someone to help her with some decisions about the wedding.”

  “Since when does Mother need help deciding anything?”

  He grinned at me. “She left a message at the house this morning, but she must have called after you left for work.”

  I fidgeted in my chair. “No, I just didn’t pick up the phone. She’s been calling my cell phone for days. I’ve been avoiding her.”

  His gray eyes pee
red into mine. “She seems to think you’re not interested in planning our wedding.”

  “John, my job here has been rather hectic lately. I really haven’t had time to think about our wedding.”

  “I figured it was something like that.” He leaned forward in his chair, looking very serious. “Why don’t you get another job?” I opened my mouth to object, but he stopped me. “You don’t need the money anymore. I make plenty for both of us, and you will need your free time to plan the wedding, set up our new home, and get settled.”

  I rose from my chair. “I like my job,” I angrily asserted.

  “Yes, but you don’t need it anymore. I think it’s time you slow down a bit; get another job working less hours, or at least something that is less stressful.”

  I went around to the front of the desk. “It took me over two years to get this position, John. I worked my ass off in the physical therapy department before the surgeons trusted me enough to take over the total joint program. I can’t just walk away.”

  “Nora, everyone can be replaced, even you. Your orthopedic guys can find someone else to oversee their hip and knee replacements. It can’t be that hard to do.”

  A wave of outrage mixed with stomach acid churned inside of me. “John, I like to work. It gives me purpose and a sense of accomplishment.”

  He stood from his chair and came to my side. “Nora, you will feel differently when our children come along. Then you will want to stay home and take care of them. All women do. They will be your sense of purpose and your accomplishment.”

  “I’m not just a breeding machine, John! I can think. I can create, and I certainly intend on working, even after we have children.”

  He put his hands on my shoulders. “All right.” His voice became soft and soothing. “Calm down, Nora. All I’m saying is perhaps you should consider changing jobs, or at least asking if you can cut your hours here.”

  “If and when I choose to change jobs or cut my hours, I’ll make that decision, is that clear?”

  “But at least start looking into some other options. I don’t want my wife looking tired all the time.” He kissed my cheek.

  “I don’t look tired all of the time,” I refuted.

  “Nora, you haven’t really looked at yourself in the mirror lately. You look tired and drained, like you have a lot on your mind. I want a beautiful bride, not a shell of a woman.” He stood back from me. “I promise you will be much happier when you aren’t working so hard.” He waved to me and then turned for my office door. “I’ll tell Claire you’ve been too busy to call,” he added over his shoulder as he left my office.

  Steve immediately entered my office, looking backwards toward John as he made his way down the corridor.

  “Oh, the inhumanity,” Steve cried out and pretended to faint on my office floor.

  I looked over at him sprawled out in front of my desk. “Get up, you ass.”

  “Don’t say ass.” He jumped to his feet and fastidiously began dusting off his pants. “Makes me think of that fine little number that just left here.”

  I returned to my desk. “It’s not as fine as you think. It comes with a lot of bullshit attached to it.” I plopped into in my chair and sighed.

  He curled his thin lips into a sardonic smile. “Trouble in paradise, eh? What did he say?”

  “He wants me to get another job. Says I work too hard at this one.”

  Steve folded his arms over his chest. “He wants wifey home, barefoot, and pregnant with the brood.”

  I glanced down again at the paperwork on my desk. “Something like that, yes.”

  “What did you say?”

  I continued to stare at my paperwork. “I’m still thinking.”

  Steve walked toward my open office door. “Well, kiddo, it’s your life. The key to living it is not to listen to anyone who tells you how to live it.”

  “Including a husband?”

  “He ain’t your husband yet.” Steve chuckled, and then he quickly shut the door behind him.

  Chapter 10

  The following Sunday John was to join me for brunch with Mother and Lou. Mother had insisted that John start being a part of the weekly ritual since he was soon to become a member of the family. When he arrived at my parents’ uptown home fresh from a full night of work, he looked completely worn out.

  “You sure you’re up for this?” I questioned when I opened the leaded glass front door.

  “I’m fine. I got an hour or two of sleep before I came over.” He put his arm about my waist as we stepped through the doorway.

  I put my purse down on the table by the door. “You look like you’re going to fall flat on your face. Maybe we should keep the brunch brief today. No going over wedding plans or anything.”

  John shook his head. “Your mother has got several things she needs to discuss with us today. I assured her I would be here to work it all out.”

  I turned to the ornate rosewood-inlaid foyer that led to the living room. “All right. Let’s hurry up and get this over with.”

  But my mother was determined to enjoy every moment of planning the wedding, as I found out when we sat down to eat at the compulsory mahogany dining table a short while later.

  “Now I was thinking something along the lines of a deep red brushed velvet for the bridesmaids, and gray morning suits for all of the groomsmen,” Mother began as she spread out two different swatch samples on the table.

  I gawked at my mother, and pushed away my untouched plate of eggs and grits. “Velvet in September? The bridesmaids will pass out with heatstroke.” I reached for my glass of orange juice.

  “But velvet looks so good in the pictures,” Mother whined as she held a swatch of velvet up to my face.

  “Nora’s right, Claire,” Lou jumped in. “I told you it’s too hot for velvet down here.”

  Mother pouted for a few moments. “All right, fine. We can go with the lighter satin, but I still think the color is perfect.” She pulled out a piece of dark red satin from her pile of swatches.

  “How many bridesmaids are we having?” John asked as he looked over his plate of scrambled eggs.

  “Nine,” Mother answered.

  “Nine!” I almost choked on my orange juice. “I don’t even know nine people, let alone have nine friends to ask to be bridesmaids.” I banged my glass down on the table.

  “They won’t all be your friends.” She searched the table for one of her many lists. “John has family, too,” she asserted.

  John nodded as he loaded his fork with scrambled eggs. “Yes, I’ve got my sister, Nancy, to think of. Then there are my two cousins, Emily and Patrice, and I was thinking of having Nancy’s two little girls as bridesmaids as well. They’re eleven and twelve, and I know they would love to be part of the wedding.”

  “Then we have your friends to consider, dear.” Mother gave me a worried look. “Well, at least the ones you knew in high school. If they won’t do it, I can ask some of the daughters of my friends to be your bridesmaids. You’ve got to have somebody stand by you at your wedding.”

  “Uncle Jack will be standing by me, Mother. I won’t need bridesmaids.”

  “Jacques? My brother?” Mother appeared horrified. She placed her hand to her chest and wrinkled up her brow. After the amount of Botox that brow had been exposed to, I was surprised she still had use of it.

  “Uncle Jack is going to give me away,” I declared, folding my arms defiantly in front of me.

  My mother shook her head. “My brother cannot be shown in public, child. I can’t have my friends exposed to the ravings of that drunk.”

  “Mother, all of your friends are drunks. Uncle Jack will fit right in.”

  “My friends are all good, upstanding people.” Mother turned to Lou, her nostrils flaring. “Did you hear what she said about our friends, Lou?”

  Lou glanced up from his ham and eggs. “Nora is right. Your friends are drunks, Claire.”

  “Lou!” Mother shrieked.

  He waved his fork in the a
ir. “Well, it’s true. Every time those people come over for dinner they drain my bar. I agree with Nora, Jack will fit right in.”

  “You always liked my brother,” she grumbled.

  Lou stabbed at a piece of ham on his plate as he smiled rebelliously at my mother. “Yeah, I do like Jack. So what?”

  “Perhaps,” John broke in. “Five bridesmaids is plenty.”

  Mother turned to John. “Of course it isn’t. No self-respecting Catholic wedding would have less than nine bridesmaids.” Mother scanned the list of possible bridesmaids in front of her. “I guess we can iron this out later.” She reached across the table for another piece of paper. “But this can’t wait.” She handed the paper to me.

  I tried to decipher my mother’s unintelligible scribble. “What’s this?”

  “Father Delacroix gave me a list of dates for you and John to go over to St. Rita’s and begin your Pre-Cana sessions.”

  I stared at my mother in disbelief. “Pre-Cana? You’re joking.”

  John put his fork down. “Nora, we have to go to Pre-Cana in order to have a mass during the ceremony. You want to be married in the eyes of God, don’t you?”

  “God doesn’t have to sit through his own Pre-Cana classes.” My stomach rolled with disgust. “Look, Mother, I don’t have time to go to Pre-Cana sessions, and I don’t see why John and I should have to—”

  “But John wants to go,” Mother interrupted. “He’s a very devout man and he told me last week that he wants your marriage to be sanctified by the church. I told him I would call Father Delacroix to set up the Pre-Cana.”

  I scowled at John, suppressing a sudden urge to choke the living hell out of him. “But how can you make time for these sessions?” I asked him, sweetly. “You’re at the emergency room six days and nights a week.”

  He patted my hand. “I can make arrangements. Don’t worry.”

  “There, that’s settled.” Mother leaned slightly to her left and elbowed her husband. ”Isn’t it exciting, Lou?”

  Lou, who had been watching the entire conversation with his arms folded over his chest, grinned at me. “It’s not too late, No. I know a real good rabbi if you want to convert.”