by Linda Joyce
Singing, she wandered near the first row of tables and poured her heart out. Her mother beamed. Her father’s focus was glued to her mother.
All the while, she was singing about Rex. The first time she saw his face was forever permanently etched in her mind. It still made her heart beat at 12/8 time, and that which remained of her shredded heart trembled for him.
After finishing the song, she blew a kiss to her parents, then followed her sister’s lead and mingled with guests, greeting and smiling. As she stood next to an elderly neighbor from Bayou Petite, her stomach growled. She covered her belly with her hands as though that would silence the noise.
“Beautiful song. Here, you need this bowl more than me.” The elderly gentleman showed his plate covered in fried chicken, mashed potatoes, and collard greens. “I’m leaving room for crawfish étouffée. That’ll be my dessert.”
“What? No cake?” Nola pointed to the beautiful confection on the center table, then downed a spoonful of gumbo. She recalled the man had helped in the gardens at Fleur de Lis after Katrina.
“That’s a cake? Gawd! That’s too pretty to eat.”
She winked at the man and moved on while the other guests teased him.
When it came time to cut the cake, Biloxi took the spotlight. “Ladies and gentlemen, well, ladies and guys…” The crowd laughed at her joke. “This fabulous creation of a cake was made by Kayla Arceneau of the Arceneau’s of New Orleans. She’s a genius with pastries.”
“Excellent chef, too,” Sean Dutrey called out.
“That she is, Daddy.” Biloxi nodded. “Thank you, Kayla.”
Nola looked on as her friend took a bow, then came forward with a knife almost as long as a sword. The handle was made of pearl and tied with a turquoise silk ribbon. “For the bride and groom. Cake-cutting time.”
On cue, Nola’s cousins, Evie and Melody, stood near the band. Sophie appeared with a camera and snapped photos. Obviously, Biloxi was grooming her in that art. Momma and Daddy rose from their seats and stood by the cake.
“Before we cut the cake, Linc has a toast. Please raise your glasses.” Biloxi lifted a champagne flute. Nola snagged one from a passing server and lifted hers, too.
“Life without the one you love must be a prison or hell. Congratulations to our parents who’ve made loving look so easy.” Linc raised his glass higher. His words pierced Nola’s heart. Is that what she had to look forward to? A week without Rex had been hell. True, she adored all of her students, but wanted someone to share the highs and lows of her day, to spend evenings listening to music they enjoyed, to cuddle and fall asleep wrapped together. To have him look at her with a look of love.
Rex. Oh, Rex.
Her heart skittered, crashed, and burned, tumbling over a cliff. Pain oozed. Intractable, that’s what she was. Stubborn, so much so she was in competition with Kayla for being bullheaded. Which one of them took top billing?
For shame. As if that’s a prize to battle over.
Momma and Daddy cut the cake. Cousins delivered the sweet treat to the guests as Nola picked up the microphone. “This next song continues the journey of Momma and Daddy’s life. It appears, Momma, though completely smitten with Daddy, played hard to get. This song is one of Daddy’s favorites. Thank you, Marvin Gaye, for recording “I Want You to Want Me.” And everyone, please feel free to get up and dance.”
Daddy tugged Momma away from the cake. They moved in unison on the dance floor. Daddy twirled her. Halfway through the song, Daddy belted out a line of the lyrics, then turned Momma and led her into a dip. The crowd cheered.
From her vantage point, Nola looked on. Love for her parents swelled in her heart. At the same time, each beat was a beat without Rex in her life. If her heart beat sixty times a minute, how many beats in an hour? A day? A week? What a waste. Linc was right. Without Rex, life was prison or hell.
She finished her song and ducked outside to feed her sorrow and to escape the joyfulness of the party. Couldn’t have the party’s headline singer be a downer for all.
The last rays of the setting sun blazed through the trees in orange, red, and pink. By seven thirty it would be dark.
What’s Rex doing now?
Saturday night in New York. Probably working at one of his restaurants. Did he meet models, musicians, and socialites? Did any of them have their eyes on him?
As a car moved up the long driveway toward the tent, Nola ducked back inside. Whoever arrived had come late, but better late than never.
A few minutes later, Nola waved away a slice of cake, happy to wait and eat leftovers at midnight. Too much going on. Too much nervous energy. She joined the band for her last song, and she noticed Marquis pulling Kayla into a hug, then draping his arm over her shoulder. He waved. Nola waved back. She had considered caravanning back to New Orleans with Kayla tonight, but now that Marquis was there, the two might have other plans.
“Ladies and gentlemen, I hope you’re enjoying yourselves.” Nola pulled the microphone from its stand and stepped onto the dance floor. “My last song for the evening says it all with the title, “The Look of Love.” It was written by Dusty Springfield.”
The crowd applauded, and she turned to the band. “One. Two. Three.”
As she sang, she crossed the dance floor. The hauntingly beautiful song was perfect for her voice. She continued singing as she walked to the long table at the far end of the tent where her parents sat. There she serenaded them. They beamed.
Finishing the song, she bent and kissed each of her parents on the cheek. “I love you so.”
Unable to blink back the mist forming in her eyes, she headed to the stage to return the microphone. Fighting tears, she had to escape the party before she broke down into a sobbing mess. As Nola made her way to the exit, Kayla snagged her arm.
“Whoa, Nola Belle, this next song is just for you.” Kayla handed her a tissue.
Confused, Nola stopped and dabbed the leaking tears. Marquis stepped up to the stage and belted out the first few notes on his trumpet. The combo joined in, adding depth to the music. The crowd quieted.
From the far opposite corner of the tent, a single voice rang out, “When a Man Loves a Woman.”
Nola blinked. Then swallowed. The baritone voice captivated her. Her heart lurched.
The smile on the face of the man who sang his heart out—to her—sent her heart orbiting. Choking back a sob, she fanned herself. Kayla shoved a chair beneath her. She sat, then folded her hands in her lap, never breaking eye contact with Rex.
Her heart soared.
Her mind blocked out everything—but Rex.
It was as though the two of them were in an empty room.
Crossing the expanse of space, weaving between tables, with each word of the song, Rex drew closer to her. As the song neared conclusion, he reached her and held out his hand. She put hers in his. Rex tugged her to standing. Spinning her around, he pulled her close with her back against his torso. They faced all of the guests when he ended the song and the band stopped playing.
A hush settled over the crowd.
“Mr. and Mrs. Dutrey, it’s very nice to meet you. Happy Anniversary,” Rex said. “Thanks for allowing me to be here and to crash your party.”
Then the band began to play softly. Rex swayed side to side, and she followed his lead. He continued, “I told this woman I loved her, but she never told me if she loved me, too. So, I’ve come for my answer.”
Rex twirled her around to face him.
“Nola Bridgette Dutrey. I love you. We’re too smart not to find a way to make this work.” Rex grinned wide. His eyes softened. His head cocked to one side.
Mesmerized, Nola stared at him.
The look of love!
“Yes!” She hugged him. “I love you, too.”
The crowd cheered. The drummer shimmered the cymbals. Marquis busted out several notes on his trumpet that sounded like a cheer.
Heat rose from her neck to her cheeks. All of her family gathered around them. Handshak
es. Hugs. Thumps on the back. Introductions were made all around.
It was déjà vu.
After a few minutes, she tugged on Rex’s hand to pull him from the clutches of her family. There was plenty of time for them to get to know him. Together, they’d work on that. Right now, she needed him all to herself. Leading him out of the tent, she stopped beside the fountain in the circular drive and wrapped her arms around him, peppering his face with kisses—just to be sure he wasn’t a dream.
Her vulnerable heart pinged with hope. No situation lasted forever, but her parents were proof that love was enduring.
“I’m sick without you, Nola,” he whispered in her ear. “I want to offer you a contract, but not the musical kind. The kind that binds my heart and my life with yours forever.”
“Shh. Just kiss me more. Silly man, we’ll talk contracts later. Right now, we have more important business to attend to.”
She smiled and hoped her grin appeared as wicked as she intended. “Come with me.” She led him through the front door of Fleur de Lis. Picking up her full skirt, she ascended the staircase to her bedroom on the second floor.
G.G. Grace, I am going to be the next bride at Fleur de Lis, so forgive me for what I’m about to do. I know you’ll love Rex, just as I do.
Inside the room, she closed the door, then opened the tall window. Music from the band filtered in.
“Come here.” She crooked her finger at Rex. “Dance with me, please.”
He raised an eyebrow. “I’m not sure it’s proper for me to be here.”
“Xavier Rex Arceneau. Are you telling me you won’t dance with me?”
“No, sweetheart, I’m not saying that at all.” She didn’t miss when he cut his eyes to her bed. “But there’s many ways to experience music. And in here, my want of you is rising like a crescendo.”
She giggled and wiggled her eyebrows. Needing to feel the warmth of him, she wrapped her arms around his neck, swaying with him to the music. His hands rested on her hips.
“I just met your family. I want to stay on their right side. There are so many of them. It’s a bit intimidating. Should we return to the party? They might want an encore from you.”
“My family, they’re harmless, I promise.”
Rex kissed her, tugging on her bottom lip. “A family feud was threatened by your sister.”
Nola chuckled. “There was one, once.”
Allowing the music to wrap her in a cocoon with Rex, Nola swayed. Love flowed through her as effortlessly as the music.
“I’ve never invited a man into my bedroom before,” she cooed as they danced. “It’s against the rules. But I’m breaking them because I want you so much.”
“Nola Bridgett Dutrey, music is the language of love. We take it in through hearing. We experience it through our emotions. Music doesn’t require sight. It invites us to use other senses.”
“Hmm…Mr. Arceneau, you’re talking too much.”
Rex scooped her, full tulle skirt and all, and carried her to the bed. Gently, he placed her in the middle. “I’ll be quiet now. I’m going to demonstrate to you how much I love you using another one of our senses—touch.”
****
At midnight, Nola left a sleeping Rex and slowly descended the front stairs, watching for the steps that creaked. A cool brush of air move across her cheek.
Swans mate for life.
The words stopped Nola on the stairs. “G.G. Grace? If that’s a prediction from the other side, I’ll take it. Does it come with a guarantee?”
No further message came. She headed for the kitchen in search of a slice of Kayla’s cake and a glass of milk. The light over the stove cast a small shadow. The sound of metal, like a utensil, clinked against a plate. It came from the far side of the kitchen. Nola peered into the dimness. “Hello?”
“Sister dearest,” Biloxi whispered. “I wondered if you’d come down.”
Her sister sat at the counter in the dark. “You can thank me later.”
She hugged Biloxi. “I’m thanking you now. Rex told me you invited him to come.”
“Hmm…that’s what he said? I invited him? I like that. Rex is a polite man.”
Nola pulled open the refrigerator. “I’m guessing you used your considerable influence to draw him to the party. After all, it’s Saturday night. Busy time for any restaurant.”
“He impressed Momma and Daddy. Momma’s gushing about you being the next bride.”
“Rex and I aren’t quite there yet.”
But I’ve got my fingers crossed. Right, G.G. Grace? He’s mine for life.
“Well, all I can say is that I’ve done my duty as your big sister. When we set eyes on him, I told you to touch.”
Nola giggled. Yes, she had to admit, that was exactly what her big sister had said.
“I’ll deny ever saying this, but sometimes, big sisters know best.”
Grabbing up two slices of cake and a tall glass of milk, Nola turned back to her sister. “Night. Night, Biloxi. I’m going back upstairs and touch some more.”
Chapter 24
Nine months later…
Nola descended the stairs as quickly as she dared, the train of her peacock-blue mermaid dress sweeping the floor behind her. The straps of her rhinestone-studded heels were hooked through her fingers. As she reached the foyer of Rex’s Garden District home, she asked, “Do I look presentable?”
Kayla, dressed in a short, black cocktail dress that showed off her long legs, folded her arms over her chest and cocked her head from one side to the other. “Your hair looks like a work of art, something I saw in a video. Yeah, I think you’ll do.” She winked. “Lordy, woman, you took so looong getting ready, but stunning. I’ve never seen you glow so much. You nearly hurt my eyes.”
“Everything has to be perfect tonight.” Nola smoothed the front of her gown and continued into the living room. “I’m so nervous about the soft opening for the restaurant. All of my family is coming.”
“Xavier’s.” Kayla unfolded her arms and stepped beside her. Once in the living room, she reached for two glasses on the sidebar and handed one to Nola, lifting it in a toast. “You and my brother have done well. Your new place is going to be the big splash in the restaurant scene throughout the holidays. Rex said reservations are booked for the next two months. Though, I do have to say again, thank you for agreeing to continue to sing at my restaurant on Friday nights.”
They clinked glasses and each sipped.
“I think I need something stronger to steady my nerves, Kayla.”
“Naw. The last time we did shots, you got me drunk.”
“I got you…” She shook her head and snorted. “Right. You keep telling yourself that.” It was a night she remembered all too well. The night Rex disappeared after he kissed her. “I haven’t had alcohol since then.”
Nola sat, slipped on her shoes, then worked the buckles on them.
“Here, let me help.” Kayla knelt and secured the straps on the shoes. “You’re my BFF. No man, not even my brother, will come between us.”
“Thanks, my fingers are all fumbles right now.” Nola stood and glanced around for her purse. It was on the foyer table, where she’d left it earlier. “He’s not so bad,” Nola gently chided. “Rex wanted to be sure that the two of you wouldn’t be in direct competition in the French Quarter. I have to say, I wasn’t crazy about the idea of a Warehouse District location, but I think it’s all going to work out.”
“Fu—heck, yeah.”
Nola giggled. Kayla had been working hard to stop cussing. Marquis almost had her completely broken of the habit. Almost. “Do you miss living here at all?”
“You mean in this mausoleum? Nope. I love the condo. Marquis and I are quite settled there now.”
“I look forward to invitations to Sunday night dinners at your place. Now, where is that man of yours? Or did the plans change? He’s still taking us to the restaurant, right?”
Clasping her hands together to keep her excitement from levitating
her off the floor, Nola rushed to the door when the doorbell rang. Kayla was right behind her.
“Hey there!” She hugged Marquis.
“Oooh la la. You ladies look hot!”
“You clean up really nice yourself,” she told him. “Come on, Kayla. Let’s go. I can’t wait to see what’s on the menu for dinner tonight. Rex has kept it a secret. Wouldn’t tell me. Did he tell you?” Gleeful and giddy, Nola tingled. She couldn’t wait for Rex to see her in the custom-made dress. She’d never purchased a garment that cost so much money. But tonight was a special night…and she’d flatly refused her sister’s help to select an outfit.
Marquis, dressed in a tux, held out both of his arms. Nola took one, Kayla took the other. He escorted them to the limo where a driver waited for them.
“I know everything about tonight, but one tiny detail,” Marquis said, taking Kayla’s hand in his.
Kayla beamed back at him, then planted a kiss on his cheek, promptly wiping away the stain of her lipstick.
Nola eyed the couple. They’d made their relationship work. Marquis had spent the summer in New York. Kayla had visited him every other Sunday and Monday. She’d mentioned the in-between times, but Nola had shut her down, not wanting to hear the details about long-distance sex via video chats on the internet.
Is Marquis going to propose to Kayla? Does Rex know? Tonight, we’re all going to celebrate!
Images of Kayla as a bride at Fleur de Lis brought a smile to Nola’s lips. That would make Momma very happy. She’d adopted Kayla after the anniversary party. Her tall, blonde, leggy friend blossomed under Momma’s tutelage, and that took pressure off Nola. Momma had actually called her this morning and not once did she mention if Nola would be the next Fleur de Lis bride.
****
Rex checked his watch. He flipped the switch for the lights, then went outside to check the neon sign. He swelled with pride every time the sign glowed at night. He had fulfilled most of his dream. A restaurant—farm to table—that focused on freshness of ingredients, not so heavily in Cajun and Creole seasonings as Arceneau’s, with Nola singing on Saturday nights as headliner. They intended to become a venue for introducing new musicians to New Orleans, and so far, it looked promising. Nola auditioned and managed the bookings, though she still sang for his sister every Friday night. Maybe that would change once…
