Alice wanted to clarify that she’d said the store didn’t fit, but really, Paul and his store were linked. She tried to imagine Paul being denied entry anywhere, and she couldn’t. To her, he seemed to own the world. “I can imagine it was a shock to learn he couldn’t just smile his way into this historic district. Well, he did for a while. But there is a reason we have these laws. A store like his doesn’t fit here.”
“I want to be honest with you.” Mrs. Olivier seemed to be choosing her words carefully. “But first I want to say how much I like you. On any other day, in any other season, I would be forcin’ you two together. I woulda hand-picked you out of a crowd of pretty girls.”
Alice felt her face go warm.
“You think that stopping his store will save Natchitoches. You think it will keep our people speaking Creole, keep our kids from movin’ away. But it doesn’t work that way, honey. The more you fight to keep ‘em, the faster they run away.”
“I can’t just give up and forget everything my family had,” Alice said. “I owe it to them to carry on our traditions.”
“I know, Alice. But that has nothin’ to do with Paul’s company.” She sighed. “Let me put it another way. What are you doing to help keep our ways alive?”
Alice blew out a breath in frustration. She’d always thought she was a mentor to Charlie, but that hadn’t really worked out. She was running a bookstore and wasn’t that enough? But that didn’t have much to do with Creole culture. And that was the heart of Alice’s gripe with technology. It was smoothing out all the edges of her people, blending them until they weren’t any different than any other.
Mrs. Olivier went on. “Paul thinks we need to keep people here, if we want Natchitoches to stay Creole. The kids leave for the city and never come back. The schools here just don’t have the equipment. Our kids are leavin’ school without the basics they need. Paul met up with an old teacher and now he’s fixin’ to fund a grant for the schools, for computer and science labs.” She held up a hand at Alice’s look. “You think I’m just braggin’ on my boy, but I’m tryin’ to explain. You can’t waste all your energy on petitions and lawsuits. You got to do some good.”
Alice clamped her mouth closed. Mrs. Olivier made it sound as if Alice was litigious and petty, while Paul was out educating children of Natchitoches.
“So, we’ve got that outta the way.” Mrs. Olivier took a deep breath. “Now, this part isn’t real nice, either, but it needs to be said. I know my boy, inside and out. He’s a good man. And you know I like you. But he deserves a woman who will commit to him and support him in everythin’ he does.”
“I― I agree.”
“Well, then. You can see why I’d be here askin’ you to stay away.” Something in Alice’s expression must have touched Mrs. Olivier because she leaned close again and gripped her hand. “I can see why Paul loves you. But this isn’t good for him. It’s tearin’ him up inside.”
I can see why Paul loves you. The words echoed around Alice’s brain. She wanted to object but she couldn’t seem to get back on track.
“So, I’d like you to give him some space.” She let go of Alice’s hand and smiled. “Maybe after this has all blown over, we can go out to coffee and chat. I met your mama and daddy a few times. They were real good people and they’d be right proud of you. I’d like us to be friends, Alice. But not right now. Not while you’re standin’ in the way of all the good things my boy is trying to accomplish here.”
She turned around and left, the little brass bell jingling one more time. Alice lowered herself into her desk chair and tried to catch her breath. Did she just get dumped by the mother of her not-really-boyfriend? That was a first.
She reached out and ran her fingers through Van Winkle’s fur. Mrs. Olivier mentioned a grant for the schools and Alice wished she could dismiss it as crazy mama bragging, but knew it was true. It was just like something Paul would do. He was generous and kind. If he knew the schools were struggling in the sciences, then he would help any way he could. The kids might know how to post to Facebook on a smart phone, but they wouldn’t know anything really useful, like Excel, or go even further into real programming.
She rubbed her forehead. She’d been so focused on the mindless entertainment but it all went hand-in-hand. She wanted to ban one, without the other, and it didn’t work that way. It might end up sending Cane River back to the Dark Ages like Charlie had said.
She’d gotten what she’d wanted. Paul hadn’t seemed like he was going to hate her for it, if that kiss from the other night was any indication. But somehow, she hadn’t thought about all the other people involved. His mother, Bix, Charlie, the whole town. She’d won and there was no turning back now.
****
“We’re making an official statement later today. That’s all I have to say right now.” Paul tried to zip up his sweatshirt and wave the camera out of his face at the same time. Reporters crowded in, shouting questions as he power-walked down the sidewalk. He’d gone to Babet’s for a little breakfast and the reporters met him as he came out the front door. He hadn’t expected the news of Alice’s injunction to cause such a media circus.
“Is it true the lawsuit comes from an ex-girlfriend?”
“Is it true she’s your high school sweetheart?”
“Are you still living with her?”
“Who’s the other woman?”
“Did you promise to marry her?”
“Is there a baby on the way?”
Paul stopped short and turned so fast the woman tripped over the back of his feet. “This wasn’t personal. I do know the petitioner. It has nothing to do with us as a… as friends. Now, that’s all. You’ll have to wait for the official statement.”
He walked the block to By the Book, doing his best to ignore more and more absurd questions. Then he paused, undecided, a few feet from the front door. If he walked around the back, they’d camp out in the alleyway. He’d have to get a few of the security guards from the warehouse down there to guard the entrance to the apartments or they’d have reporters lurking in the stairwell. Going through the front, they might assume he was just visiting another store. He stepped forward, putting his hand on the knob, and then stopped.
Looking through the glass door, he saw Alice in the middle of the room. Her expression was one of shock and horror as she took in the madhouse just feet away. Her gaze locked on his. Paul saw clearly, for the first time, what his arrival in Natchitoches meant to Alice. Her life had been wrapped in peace and beautiful words, cushioned and protected from the ugliness of the world. It was a utopia and one he had never clearly seen, until now.
Paul dropped his hand from the knob, sourness rising in his throat. Involving Alice in his life had been a mistake. She had tried to tell him, tried to fight what he was bringing to her town. He hadn’t listened, just barreled through like he always did, so sure he was right.
He turned his back, pushing through the crush of reporters until he made it to the sidewalk. Pulling out his phone, he dialed Andy.
“We’ve got a problem.”
“Another one? Where are you? And what’s all that noise?”
“Reporters. You’ve got the rental car and I need to get out of here.”
“Okay, it’ll be a few minutes. You can’t get into the apartment?” He could barely hear Andy but there were thumps and rustling as if he were packing up his briefcase in the middle of the meeting. His voice was muffled, as he covered the phone. “Sorry, everyone. We’ll reschedule for this afternoon.”
“Long story. We may have to find another place.”
There was a silence. “Alice kicked us out?”
“No!” Paul nearly trampled a reporter trying to get his microphone near enough to Paul’s cell to hear the other side of the conversation. “I’ll explain later.”
“On my way.” Andy disconnected. Paul stuffed his phone into his shirt and kept walking. He’d loop around the boardwalk until he saw Andy. Pulling out his phone, he put in his earbuds and cranked up
the volume on the music. Flipping up the hood of his sweatshirt, he could almost pretend he wasn’t being chased by paparazzi. It didn’t do anything to soothe the vicious ache in his heart. He’d been wrong to come here and Alice had tried to tell him. Now he understood.
****
Alice stumbled back to her desk as the reporters chased Paul down the sidewalk. She had done this to him. She had returned lawsuits for kisses, curses for blessings.
When he looked through the glass door, his face had borne such a look of regret. His dark hair was disheveled and he had circles under his eyes. He wore a simple black hoodie and jeans. When he’d first arrived she’d thought he was arrogant and showy, but the man on the other side of the door wasn’t much different than she was. He wanted to work, have friends, live in peace. Paul Olivier didn’t deserve that kind of treatment just for trying to open a store.
Alice wanted to protect the historic district and thought his store would hurt the people of Cane River, but she’d only seen good things come from it. The only person who’d been hurt was Paul. She’d been wrong. If she hadn’t been sure before, she was now. Her hands shook as she dialed the rotary phone, willing her heart to stop racing. Randy answered on the first ring.
“I’ve got to cancel the injunction,” she blurted.
“But our petition was approved,” Randy said slowly. “It’s natural to have second thoughts. Especially if you’ve had some negative reactions from friends and neighbors. But if you’re serious about this lawsuit, you can’t let them affect you.”
“No, I was wrong. I need you to― to take it back.”
“I can unsuit the petition, if that’s what you really want. But I can’t do it until Monday.”
Alice let out a breath. “Okay. I can wait until then.”
“As long as you’re sure. You can’t file again. I mean, I guess we could, but you probably wouldn’t get the petition granted twice.”
“I’m sure. I thought I was doing the right thing. But I was wrong.”
“I’ll file it Monday. And if you change your mind before then, let me know.” Randy sounded as if he fully expected her to call him tomorrow and tell him she’d changed her mind― again.
“Thank you, Randy. Thank you so much.” Alice hung up. She’d spent a lot of money, wasted a lot of energy, and irritated a lot of people for nothing. Well, not nothing. She wouldn’t have been able to see the situation as clearly before. She had to reach the end before she realized she’d been going in the wrong direction the whole time.
Alice stood up, her muscles easing. She hadn’t realized how cramped she’d been, curled up against the worry and the pain. Mr. Rochester wandered by and she almost reached out to grab him up. She wanted to hug someone, right then, and tell them all about it but there was no one to tell.
Well, there was just one person and they weren’t even really speaking to each other. Alice chewed her nail for a moment and then sat back down, clicking open her email.
Dear BWK,
I know we sort of said goodbye, but I don’t have anyone else to tell this to and I’m going to burst with it. You know EBB’s verse:
God answers sharp and sudden on some prayers,
And thrusts the thing we have prayed
For in our face,
A gauntlet with a gift in it. –
That happened to me. I prayed that I was doing the right thing, but only in the way that people do when they won’t take no for an answer.
Can the Holy Spirit face-palm? If so- doing it right now in my direction. I don’t think I’ll get a second chance with the people I hurt, but I’m fixing what I ruined as best I can. And I finally feel ‘out of the swing of the sea’.
Your Alice
She sat there, staring at her email, waiting for a response. Nothing came. After a few minutes, Alice stood up and paced the store. Darcy peered down at her from the top of a range, tracking her path with unblinking green eyes.
“What do you think Darcy? Should I try to talk to Paul?” She nibbled her nails for a moment. “No, you’re right. When Elizabeth refused that first proposal, he didn’t go running back, did he?” She paced some more. “But he did send that letter explaining himself.”
Mrs. Gaskell wandered out at the sound of Alice’s voice. She scanned the room, as if wondering who else was there. Alice reached down and picked her up, not caring if she got cat hair all over her silk shirt. “And when Margaret refused Mr. Thornton, he didn’t run back to her the next day. He went on with his life.” She scratched Mrs. Gaskell behind the ears. Jane Eyre crept in, sitting near the desk in a small shaft of sunlight. “And you. When you found out about the crazy wife in the attic, you didn’t stay. You were no caged bird.”
Alice gently set Mrs. Gaskell on the ground. “All of you are telling me to keep myself safely at home and let Paul get on with his life. I get it.”
She dropped into her desk chair and stared glumly at her papers. This wasn’t where she wanted to be. She raised her eyes to the screen and saw there was another message from BWK.
Dear Alice,
I remember I kinda sorta said to ignore mopey Sara Teasdale but she wrote:
Spend all you have for loveliness
Buy it, and never count the cost;
For one white singing hour of peace
Count many a year of strife as lost.
I wish you well with making amends and I pray the people you’ve hurt will respond with grace.
Your BWK
Alice grinned at the screen. All the greatest romantic novelists of the nineteenth century said that she shouldn’t try to talk to Paul, but BWK disagreed. She read the note again, cocking her head at the kinda sorta. Paul said that the first day they’d met, when she’d accused him of murdering books. That day seemed years ago, a lifetime away.
Closing the laptop, Alice stood up and crossed the room to the poetry section. If she was going to try and make amends, she should come bearing gifts. And she knew just the book to bring.
Chapter Twenty-Four
“Despite our ever-connective technology, neither Skype nor Facebook- not even a telephone call- can come close to the joy of being with loved ones in person.”― Marlo Thomas
“No sign of reporters downstairs. They’re camped across the street but the guards are doing a good job keeping them away from the door.” Andy dropped a package into Paul’s lap. “You had something overnighted? I hope it’s pair of leggy models for the opening. I still don’t have a date.”
Paul glanced over and then logged out of the raid he was running with a team. The dungeon was boring him anyway.
“Hey, no need for that.” Andy frowned at his bad manners. A guy didn’t just drop a game and leave your buddies in the lurch.
“I’ll say it was a bad connection,” Paul said and reached for the package. “It’s a book I needed for the site. Alice sent it to the P.O. box.”
“Why? Couldn’t you just pick it up downstairs?”
Paul shot him a look.
“Oh, right. She doesn’t know your secret identity.” Andy unzipped his sweatshirt and tossed it on a chair. “So, Meg Ryan just sent Tom Hanks a book but…”
“No, Meg Ryan just sent NY152 a book, which was then overnighted to Tom Hanks, who lives above Meg Ryan and knows she’s Shopgirl, while she has no idea he’s NY152.”
“I’m a little disturbed you know that movie so well.”
“It was actually a remake of a 1937 play called Parfumerie by Miklós László.” Paul blew out a breath. “And it’s really not as fun as they made it sound.”
“But hey, at least you can say you’ve got mail,” Andy said, chuckling.
“You’re hilarious,” Paul said. He peeled the package open and The Duke’s Secret dropped into his hand. Alice had been right. The binding was broken, there were water spots on the cover, but all the pages were there. It was the perfect candidate for a Browning Wordsworth Keats upload. He might just make it through the day if he had another project.
“Are you
leaving the apartment today or should I call your mom to help stage an intervention?”
“You want me to set up shop down at the Starbucks and see if I get anything done?” Paul walked to the table and picked up his X-ACTO knife.
Andy followed him. “Listen, I don’t care if you go into hibernation mode until the party. It would probably add to your mystique. But we’ve got some big meetings coming up. I need to make you sure you’re going to be at the top of your game. You seem… like you’ve been gutted by an orc and left on a pike at the city gates.”
Paul turned around, knife in hand. “Am I really giving that impression?”
Andy held up his hands. “Watch where you wave that thing. I’m just looking out for you.”
He went back to slicing pages out of the book. “I’m good. You know me.”
“Yeah, I do know you.” Andy’s voice was quiet. He didn’t say any more, moving toward the couch and picking up the controls.
Paul worked quickly, and soon The Duke’s Secret was stacked carefully, free of its binding and ready for the scanner. He examined every page for spots and tears but it was in remarkably good condition. And it only cost him a million dollars. He smiled at his own joke. Buying off Norma Green was one of the most satisfying things he’d done all year and he had no regrets.
He stacked the pages into the feeder and turned on the machine. The ScreenStop logo sticker had gotten scratched somehow during delivery and he smoothed back one of the angel’s wings. Alice’s letter to BWK still made him wonder. He wished he could walk down the hallway and ask her.
His cell phone rang and he answered it, frowning at the local number.
“Mr. Olivier? This is Peter Chatham from city hall.”
“Hi. How can I help you?” Paul punched a few buttons on the scanner and adjusted the papers, holding the phone between his ear and shoulder.
“I wanted to let you know that Alice Augustine dropped the lawsuit against your company this morning. The injunction has been lifted and construction can resume on your building.”
The Pepper In The Gumbo: A Cane River Romance Page 25
