Once Upon a Christmas

by Lauraine Snelling

  Wondering what this had to do with Theo, Elise nodded. “I remember. I wanted to stay at Belle Terre and run Melancon Oil and Gas right from the back porch.”

  “Yes, well, that all changed when you went up to college at Centenary. Then your father moved to the Shreveport office, and well, you’ve all made a good life up in Shreveport.”

  Elise wiped the flour and dough off her hands, then looked over at her grandmother. “But?”

  “But, I’ve been thinking. It sure would be nice to have a woman in the local office of Melancon Oil and Gas.”

  Elise blinked, her mouth falling open. “I must have heard that wrong.”

  “No, no, you heard right,” Betty Jean said inside a chuckle. “I mean, I have enough men and boys around to start my own football team, and I intend to let any and all who are willing be a part of the team. But you’re so smart, dear, and you’ve done such a wonderful job up in Shreveport. I was thinking I could make you head of our Environmental and Ecological Department.”

  Elise blinked again. “Mamere, we don’t have an environmental and ecological department.”

  “Oh, but we would, if you’d agree to head it up,” Betty Jean pointed out. “These wetlands are in serious danger, darling. Just ask Theo. That’s one reason he went to college. He wants to work to save the land he loves. Did I already mention that?”

  “You did. But I still don’t see what that has to do with me ‘reforming’ him, or how my working down here could possibly help when we don’t even have that department.”

  “I aim to create the department. I’m going to present it at the next board meeting, which is next month, by the way. And I aim to hire Theo and let him work his way through the rest of his college term. Then I’ll promote him once he gets his degree. I still control fifty-one percent of the stock and so I can appoint anyone I see fit to head up a new department. But I wanted him to gain his confidence back and go back to finish school. That’s why I need you to help him, dear. He’ll listen to you.”

  “Grand-mère—”

  “What time is it?” came a feeble wail from the pocket doors leading out into the hallway.

  Elise and Betty Jean turned to find Cissie standing there, her white satin sleep mask pushed up on her forehead, her hair all sleep-tousled. She was wearing a bright purple silk robe and feathery house slippers.

  “High time for decent folks to be out of bed,” Betty Jean said. Then she shot Elise a warning look and put one finger to her mouth to indicate that they didn’t need to discuss this any further. “We’ll talk more later,” she whispered. “Cissie, the coffee’s been on for two hours, but help yourself.”

  Cissie stumbled with a dramatic flair toward the coffeepot, then plopped onto a wrought-iron barstool by the counter. “Reginald, two spoons of sweetener and lots of cream, please.”

  Reginald rolled his eyes in disapproval, but went to fetch Cissie’s coffee. “Would you care for a bran muffin, Miss Cissie?”

  “Bran? Heavens, no,” Cissie replied, shaking her head. “I’m on that new diet—the one where you give up carbs—and I know for a fact that your bran muffins are full of carbs.”

  “They’re good for your digestive system,” Betty Jean said with a prim smile. Then she eyed Cissie’s waistline. “You know, they keep you from being so bloated.”

  Cissie sat up straight. “Am I bloated? Elise, do I look bloated?”

  Elise glared at her grandmother. “Mother, you look fine.”

  “I’ll have bacon, crisp, and one half slice of toast, dry,” Cissie instructed the hovering Reginald. “And some fresh fruit would be nice—for my bloated state.” She lifted her brows toward Betty Jean. “I’ve been under such stress, you can’t imagine.”

  “No, can’t begin to imagine,” Betty Jean said as she handed Reginald a baking sheet of rolls. “Why don’t you tell us all about it.”

  “Well,” Cissie said, lounging back against her chair, her steaming coffee in one hand, “I was the chairperson of our Christmas cantata this year. I can’t tell you what a chore that was—fifty-five choir members, dozens of unruly children running around, and a minister who is constantly worrying about how much money is coming into the church. It’s enough to make a sane woman turn stark raving mad.”

  “Know any sane women?” Betty Jean asked Elise with a wink.

  Cissie frowned, but continued her long, drawn-out account of her hectic life—the social whirl of party obligations, the many fund-raisers where she simply must be seen, the many trips to find suitable clothes to wear to all the holiday social events. “I tell you, I’ll be glad when Christmas is over.”

  Betty Jean stood perfectly still. “You shouldn’t make such a remark, Cissie.”

  “Why on earth not?” Cissie said, her hand busy at her sleep mask.

  “Because this special season is not about parties and frocks, or seeing and being seen. It’s about Jesus Christ. Or have you forgotten?”

  Cissie looked sheepish. “Mamere, you know I’m a very devout Christian.”

  “No, I didn’t know that for sure,” Betty Jean replied. “I’ll rest better now that you’ve told me though.”

  “I’m sorry,” Cissie said, nibbling her toast. “I haven’t forgotten. And in case I didn’t say it before, I’m so glad we decided to come here to Belle Terre for Christmas. It does bring back the true meaning of the season.”

  Betty Jean seemed content with that declaration. Elise walked over to her mother. “Sometimes we forget what’s important, don’t we, Mommy?”

  Cissie laughed and hugged her daughter. “Yes, we sure do.” Then she took Elise’s hands in hers. “Now, darling, tell me the truth, do I really look bloated?”

  Theo looked in the mirror at Ginger’s Bayou Beauties and winced. “It’s too short.”

  Ginger cooed and purred, her big, bright red hair curling around her cherubic face. Flashing her big brown eyes, she giggled. “Tee-do, you look so handsome. Why if I didn’t have a steady boyfriend, you’d be in serious trouble.”

  Theo glanced from Ginger’s beaming face to Elise’s blank one. Hard to read, that cool little blonde. She’d been mighty quiet on the short ride into the village. And she’d been ultra-lady-like since they’d arrived at Ginger’s.

  “What do you think?” he asked Elise now, his gaze touching on hers in the mirror’s reflection.

  “You look much better,” Elise said. Her tone told him she was distracted. Or plotting how to torture him next.

  “You don’t seem too impressed by my handiwork, suga’,” Ginger said on a long, drawn-out whine. “What’s the matter, Elise? He doesn’t look like all those preppy boys you date up in Shreveport.”

  “He looks just fine,” Elise said, her voice like ice water dripping off a cypress limb. “Thank you, Ginger.”

  Ginger took the charge card Elise handed her, frowned, then went about adding up the cost of the haircut.

  Theo got out of the chair, feeling the warm air from the overhead heating vent on his freshly shaven neck. “What’s eating at you?” he asked Elise.

  She refused to look at him. “Oh, nothing. I’m just worried about Grand-mère. She’s saying things that don’t make any sense to me.”

  “Your grandmother is as sharp as a tack,” Theo said, grinning. “She has the energy of someone half her age.”

  “Yes, too much energy,” Elise countered. “Her mind is always moving ahead. But she has some strange notions these days.”

  “Want to talk about it?”

  “No.”

  He watched as she signed the charge receipt. Thanking Ginger again, Elise headed for the door.

  “You come back anytime, Tee-do,” Ginger said, her smile full of appreciation.

  “Thanks,” Theo said, glad he had the excuse of being Maggie’s intended to shield him from the likes of Ginger St. James. Remembering that Maggie might no longer be his, Theo felt a tug of regret. Maybe he should just tell Elise this was pointless. Maggie wouldn’t even return his phone calls.

&n
bsp; He glanced over at her, saw the haughty way she carried herself to her little sports car, and decided even though he was being tortured with new haircuts and such, he was still enjoying himself way too much to stop this silly notion.

  In another week or so, it would all be over anyway. Elise would go back to her job at Melancon Oil and Gas in Shreveport, and he’d go back to helping his family try to make ends meet.

  Until then, Theo would just have to make the best of this awkward situation. And who knew, maybe Maggie would see him in a different light if he did clean up and try to better himself.

  Maybe.

  Maybe he wanted that still.

  He looked over at Elise, and wondered if maybe he no longer had eyes for Maggie Aguillard after all.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  “What does it matter which fork I eat with?” Theo asked, his pulse quickening with anger at having to endure this, and excitement at having Elise so close.

  She was showing him how to eat at a formal table. He was ignoring the placement of the silverware, and instead watching the way her hair fell across her neck and face as she leaned over to put the dessert spoon over the Spode Christmas china.

  “It’s just the way things are,” Elise said, her smile warm. “It’s silly, but necessary, I suppose.”

  “Well, why is it so necessary. One mouth, one fork. That works just fine for me.”

  She gave him an indulgent smile. “But we’ll have several different courses for our formal Christmas dinner. If you want to impress Maggie, just remember not to use your dessert spoon for your soup or gumbo.”

  Theo heard her intent loud and clear. This was all about Maggie. Yesterday, he’d endured a haircut at Ginger’s, then a fitting at some fancy men’s store on Canal Street in New Orleans. He’d endured and enjoyed being with Elise the whole time. She was smart and funny and sensitive and…beautiful. On the way home, they’d laughed and talked about everything from art to baseball. Thankfully, Theo knew a bit about both. He thought Elise had been pleasantly surprised that he did. This was supposed to be all about Maggie, but Theo wanted badly to impress Elise Melancon, too.

  “It’s awfully kind of you to help me like this, Elise. But what if Maggie doesn’t even notice?”

  “Then you will at least be able to manage your way through your first formal dinner at Belle Terre,” she replied with a smug satisfaction. “And I will be the proud teacher. Manners will help you through the worst of situations, Theo.”

  Well, at least she was in a better mood today. Yesterday, she’d been downright hard to talk to at times. Not that it was easy for Theo to talk to her on any given day. But he wasn’t ready to give up completely. He’d finally had her laughing and chatting by the end of their time together yesterday. And he liked her that way.

  But he didn’t like having to learn this ridiculous dining ritual. “Why do I have to have a dinner plate and a salad plate. At home, we mostly just eat everything off the same plate.”

  “That’s fine for everyday,” Elise said, her tone patient and low-key. “But for a formal dinner party, it’s important to have a plate or bowl for each course. And we haven’t even gotten to the finger bowl yet.”

  Theo lifted his head. “There’s a bowl for my fingers?”

  “To wash up,” she replied, then indicated with her own fingers dancing in the air. “In case you’ve eaten shellfish or something sticky or messy.”

  “Oh, you mean like a mudbug,” he said, referring to one of the mainstays of his income, the crawfish. “We just go down to the swamp and wash up there. Sometimes I just let the ’gators lick that spicy mess right off my hands.”

  “You are such a tease,” she said, shaking her head.

  “Me, I’m thinking you’ve never been messy a day in your life,” he replied, his nose following the sweet floral scent of her hair.

  “I’ve been known to play in the dirt,” she said with a little grin.

  “Oh, and when was the last time you played in the dirt, or mud, or got caught in the rain?” Theo said as he watched her toying with a salad fork.

  She had long, slender fingers and pretty pink fingernails. She wore only one ring, a dainty thing with a tiny little diamond in the center. Not exactly what he would have expected a wealthy socialite to wear. “Where’d you get the ring?”

  Elise followed his eyes to her left hand, then smiled. “It was Grand-mère’s. She gave it to me on my sixteenth birthday. It’s got a lot of sentimental value. My grandfather Jacques gave it to her when they were first in love.”

  Theo saw the love and appreciation in her eyes. For all her airs, Elise really was a down-to-earth kind of woman.

  “Okay, now answer my original question. When was the last time you got caught in the rain?”

  She lifted her eyebrows, frowning. “I got caught in the rain about three weeks ago, leaving work.”

  “Leaving Melancon Oil and Gas in lovely downtown Shreveport?”

  “Yes. How did you know I work there?”

  “Your grand-mère likes to brag about how smart you are.”

  That statement brought that worried, cloudy look to her pretty eyes.

  “You do like your job with the company, right?”

  She nodded, than sat down on the Chippendale chair next to him, her pretty black pleated skirt falling softly around her legs. “Yes, I do. But Mamere has other ideas. Has she mentioned anything to you about starting a new department at Melancon, here closer to home?”

  Theo turned his head sideways and gave her a quizzical look. “Now why would your grand-mère mention things about her business to the likes of moi?”

  “I know she tells you things,” Elise said, her tone almost defensive. “She has this notion of starting an environmental and ecological department, with both of us working there from what I can gather.”

  Theo couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Betty Jean had mentioned this very idea to him many, many times. She’d also promised him a position in her company, in that very department, but she’d never mentioned that her granddaughter might be a part of it. Said she’d take him on without his degree, as long as he finished up school in the meantime. But he didn’t dare tell Elise that. She’d go into a tizzy, for sure. Plus he’d never actually taken Betty Jean seriously. Maybe he should now.

  “Your grandmother is always talking about dis and dat, I mean, this and that,” he said, acutely aware of his enunciation. And acutely aware of the woman next to him.

  “Oh, never mind,” Elise said, getting up to spin around like a ballerina. “I think we’re done for today. At least, you should be able to get through dinner by just remembering to start at the outside and work your way in, with the silverware. Watching Grand-mère and me will take care of the rest.”

  “Now that part I can enjoy,” he said, grinning. “Watching you, I mean.”

  She frowned again, then blushed. “Well, the main thing you need to watch is all that charm, Theo.”

  Suddenly, Theo had had enough of all this fancy stuff, but he had more than enough charm to last the rest of the day. “Okay, then, if we’re done with the formal part of our work, how ’bout I take over?”

  “And do what?” she asked, her voice going all soft and unsure.

  Theo took that as a good sign. “It’s a surprise, chère.”

  “I don’t like surprises.”

  “You’ll like this one. I just want to thank you, for helping me out.” To emphasize that this was strictly gratitude, even though he hoped it would change into something else, he added, “Maggie won’t know what hit her when I walk in all gussied up and knowing which fork to use.”

  That seemed to bring a steely determination back into Elise’s eyes. “Okay, I guess we’ve worked hard today. And tomorrow we go into New Orleans to pick up your suit. My grandfather’s personal tailor promised he’d have it altered just right.”

  “You sure are pretty when you’re all business,” Theo said, loving the way her creamy skin changed to peachy when she got flustered.r />
  “Stop staring at me, please.”

  “I like to look at you. You’re like this little catin, like fine porcelain.”

  “I’m not a doll,” she said, her guard up again. “And we have to keep this strictly professional.”

  “It’s not like I’m paying you or anything—it’s just an agreement between friends, oui? Can’t we at least pretend to like each other.”

  “I do like you,” she said, then she brought a hand to her throat to touch on those infernal pearls she always wore. “I mean, you seem like a nice man, Theo.”

  “But a gentleman doesn’t stare, right?”

  She pushed at her hair. “Exactly. It’s rather rude.”

  “I’m a rather rude person at times.”

  “If you keep this up, I won’t be able to enjoy this surprise you’ve planned.”

  “Okay, then, I won’t stare anymore. Will you come with me and trust me in this?”

  “Can I trust you?”

  “I’m learning to behave. I’m trying real hard to be a gentleman for you.”

  She looked up at him, shock registering on her face in a delicate sheen. “You’re doing this for Maggie, remember?”

  “Maggie who?” he said, grinning.

  Elise wasn’t sure what to expect next. Theo was that kind of man. Full of surprises. Yesterday, he’d surprised her in New Orleans by talking all about the history of that interesting city. Theo knew things about the history of New Orleans that Elise had never taken the time to learn. And he knew about art. They’d strolled by the gallery with the famous Blue Dog paintings hanging for all to see. Theo knew all about the dog in the paintings—a Catahoula hound. And he knew everything about the artist, too. He could identify antiques as well as plants and animals, all with that wicked grin on his face. He had a quick wit that showed his intelligence, when he wanted to show it, that is.

  Then today, he’d surprised her yet again by insisting he had to work extra hard to make sure everything her grandmother had hired him to do got done. Only after that had he agreed to sit down in the dining room and go over proper table etiquette.