Hurricane Season

by Amanda McIntyre

  A cold, wet splat landed on his head and he glanced up to see a heron perched on a branch overhead. He tossed his dead wife a frustrated look. “It’s not like I’m not trying, Livie.” The bird squawked and Gavin ducked out of the way of another bird bomb. Shaking his head, he strode off towards the boat to grab his shaving kit and change of clothes. With his mother’s renters out of the house, there was no reason he couldn’t grab a quick shower in his own house.

  A few moments later he trotted back to the cottage and slipped inside the small garden shed in back where his mother’s garden tools still cluttered the makeshift shelves. She’d once delighted in puttering with her flowers, saying they reminded her of the beauty in this world. Grinning as he spotted the same stack of clay pots teetering still on the end of the shelf, he lifted them and found the spare key they’d once hidden there after the time she’d accidently left her housekey in the city. He unlocked the back door and crossed over the back porch, all the while feeling a conflux of emotions. As a child, he’d spent every summer running in and out of that back door, letting the screen door slam behind him, much to his father’s dismay.

  Gavin walked through the kitchen, noting the case of wine and two of its bottle absent-sitting on the countertop. Tempted as he was to see if he could find some information about the lovely women he’d met he made a beeline instead to the library, chose one of his favorite books and then headed for the upstairs to take a shower. The master bedroom appeared unused, much to his delight. It was enough that complete strangers were residing in his once summer home, but to have them occupying his parents room seemed to cross a sacred line. A shower and quick shave later, he wrapped a towel around his waist and stepped to the second story window. Brushing the curtain aside he saw no car in the drive and released a sigh of relief. Taking a moment to savor the peace and quiet in a familiar spot, he lay on the bed and while sifting through the email on his phone drifted to sleep.

  Gavin was brought from a dead sleep by a scream and the shrill sound of his mother’s ringtone. Undecided which to address first he swung his legs over the side of the bed, forgetting the towel loosely draped at his waist. Another gasp and scream followed and in his confusion, he watched as the two women slammed shut the door with a resounding bang. The phone continued to ring as he pawed the floor for the towel and wrapped it around him, realizing the reason for the screams might have had to do with the semi he was sporting. Jesus, Mary….

  He snatched up his phone, his mind swirling with the possibilities of why she would call so soon after speaking to him yesterday. “What is it, mom? Is everything okay? Are the girls okay?” The bout with the hallucination, being dropped in the drink, not to mention how he was going to have to explain his presence to the renting vacationers waiting, armed no doubt, downstairs.

  “Well, hello to you, too. It sounds like I should be asking you that very question, Gavin Beauregard. Since when do you take that tone with your mother?”

  He raked his hand through his hair, sighing as he glanced in the mirror and noted the towel sticking out half-mast. He’d have to take a cold shower to help with that. “I apologize. I was just startled.”

  “By what, honey?”

  “The phone…I was dozing.” And possibly by your renters who likely saw me in my birthday suit.

  “I’m glad you’re getting some down time, sweetheart.”

  Gavin sat on the edge of the bed and covered his hand over his lap. “What’s going on, mom?”

  “Well, I just got a call from Bonnie’s daughter, Antoinette. She said her mama wasn’t feeling the best. I wondered if maybe you’d have time to stop in and check up on her today? You remember where she lives, just up that gravel road before you reach Evermore.”

  His family was safe. His erection dwindling by the moment. His head beginning to formulate a reasonable explanation to the women below, provided they didn’t hit him over the head first and ask questions later. “I’ll be happy to stop by on my way over to the gala tonight.”

  “Thank you, my love. You know Miss Bonnie doesn’t take kindly to doctors. But she makes an exception for you.”

  Provided she didn’t recognize him as the pervert who she thinks might have been soliciting her on the plane. Yeah, his mother didn’t need to know about that. “I know. But if it’s serious I may suggest getting her to the hospital—despite her feelings about physicians. Hoodoo magic can’t fix everything.”

  His mother cleared her throat. “You best keep that opinion to yourself, sweetheart. You know how Miss Bonnie gets.”

  Oh, hell yeah, he remembered. The first time he’d ever seen her was a chilly (for Louisiana) Halloween evening. All Hallow’s Eve on St. Charles street in New Orleans had been the highlight of his year. Besides the wealth of tourists invading their fair city—neighborhoods had always celebrated the holiday in grand style.

  He’d come running inside, ready to tell his mama what costume he wanted to wear and saw an old woman seated at the glass dining table on the sun porch. The house was deadly quiet and he felt the air leave his lungs when the strange woman turned and looked at him. She had one good eye, dark-almost black. The other was milky-white. Gavin’s feet wouldn’t move as his and the old woman’s gazes locked.

  “Gavin, dear. Say hello to Miss Bonnie,” his mother said. “She’s an old friend of mine, come by for a visit.”

  His mother’s words bounced off of him as he took in the stranger from head-to-toe. She was but a tiny thing, barely taller than himself. Her feet were propped on a footstool beneath the table. Her hair was a moon-silver gray with black streaks threading back to the knot she wore at the nape of her neck. Judging her to be at least a hundred years old, he took a step back when her lips curved into a grin, curling inward over her gums, revealing a toothless smile.

  “Tut, tut, little man,” she said in a smooth, but raspy voice. “No need you to be ‘skeered of ‘ol Bonnie. She won’t do you or your mama no harm. No sir, boy. Come on over here closer, let Bonnie take a good look at you.”

  Gavin glanced at his mother and noted the crook of her brow indicating he should remember his manners. Cautiously, he descended the two steps into the sun room. It was his mother’s favorite place, filled with comfortable seating and potted green plants. It was her perpetual celebration of summer year-round.

  Miss Bonnie (Bayou Bonnie, he’d discover later) reached out her gnarled black fingers, her knuckles tarnished ashen gray with age. She lifted his chin and held his gaze studying him as though trying to wiggle inside of his skull.

  Her expression changed a number of times as though she could read his thoughts—see something that he couldn’t.

  “Bonnie sees a future for you, little man. You be a good man.” She nodded. “A good man, indeed. Successful. Helping people.” Her brows knit as her face clouded. Concern shadowed her expression, then she offered him a kind smile. “You and me, Gavin. We’re gonna be friends. Good friends, yeah?” She’d patted his cheek and at that moment looking into her single-eyed gaze he knew—somehow—he’d made a friend for life.

  When Katrina hit. When he lost Olivia. He’d blamed her in his all-consuming grief. Not the storm that unleashed it’s wrath on the city, cutting power, making it impossible for hospitals to function properly. No, he blamed her for telling him he’d grow up to help others—that her prediction had been what sent him away to the remote island and the Doctors Abroad program that had kept him from being by Olivia’s side when she had gone into labor early. When she’d needed him the most--at her side.

  It had taken him a long time to stop blaming—Bonnie, God, anyone and everyone—for stealing away his young wife and leaving his twins daughters without a mother. It’d taken some doing not to blame his newborn girls, but the hardest blame had been on himself.

  Promising to check on Miss Bonnie, he hurried into his clothes, grabbed his shaving kit and opened the door to face the music. “ladies, you’ll have to pardon my intrusion.” He had thought to allow his southern drawl would perhaps c
harm the two women, but he stopped and swallowed realizing he was in trouble.

  One held a can of Raid bug spray—God knows how old—poised at his face. While the other held his old baseball bat at the ready. He’d wondered where that had gone to-front closet, most likely. “I can explain,” he said holding up a hand in his defense. The other hugged his shaving kit to his side.

  “I trust you are related in some way to the owners of this house?” One of the women asked.

  He nodded slowly. The young woman he’d originally seen on the plane no longer held the same allure, given the glint in her eye and the bug spray at the ready. “My name is Dr. Gavin Beauregard. This cottage is where I spent my childhood summers. It has been passed down through the generations on my mother’s side.”

  The woman, a classic-looking woman with smooth dark skin smiled as she lowered her weapon. “Didn’t you realize there were people renting the cottage this weekend?” She eyed him.

  Gavin nodded. “Yes, ma’am and I do apologize. I only found out this news yesterday upon my arrival that my mother had rented the cottage out.”

  The woman holding his bat offered him a genuine smile, then stretched out her hand. “Louise Templeton, originally from Baton Rouge.”

  He accepted her hand. “It’s a pleasure, Miss Louise.” He poured on the accent a little thicker and added his most charming smile. It seemed to work on Louise, but not so, her friend.

  “I’m sorry, where I come from, we ask for identification. You got any?” The woman holding the spray hadn’t budged.

  Frowning, he scratched his head. Louise was doing the same towards her friend, he noted. “I left my wallet on the boat.”

  “Well, of course you did, doctor.” Louise shot her friend a dark look. She clamped her hand on her friend’s forearm, forcing her to lower the bug spray. “We forgot to pick up the house keys,” Louise said. “But I guess since you’re here, we’ve got no worries that somebody will sneak in and rob the place.”

  “No, just sneak in and use the shower,” the other woman muttered quietly.

  “My apologies again, ladies. I’ll get out of your way.” He skirted carefully around them. They turned to follow him through the house and out the back-porch door.

  “You know there is no earthly reason you’d have to stay on that old boat,” Louise called as he opened the screen door.

  Gavin glanced back in time to see her friend smack her shoulder. He grinned. “I don’t wish to intrude on your weekend, ladies. Besides, I’m used to being on the boat. It has all the comforts—with exception of a nice warm shower.”

  “Well, anytime you need a nice warm shower, Dr. Beauregard, ours is available,” Louise answered with a smile.

  “I do appreciate your kindness, Ms. Louise. “He smiled and looked at her weekend companion—the one who’d shoved him in the water and threatened to eradicate him with bug spray. “And forgive me, I didn’t catch your name?” He stood on the top step and held her dark-eyed gaze—this woman who had been the first in many years to capture his attention.

  She looked at him and lifted her chin. “Because I didn’t give it to you, Dr. Beauregard.”

  Louise rolled her eyes and Gavin fought doing so. Really? Should meeting someone be this difficult? Granted their encounters up to this point weren’t exactly conducive to small talk.

  “So, it seems.” He smiled, hoping to melt some of that icy glare she shared with him. “I’ll bid you ladies good day, then. And rest assured, I’ll not be an inconvenience. I’m only here for the weekend. Ladies.” He touched his fingers to his brow and let the screen close behind him.

  He glanced back once and Louise standing at the screen waved. Her friend, nowhere in sight, was likely going to sleep with the ball bat under her bed.

  ***

  “Good lord, Caroline. I don’t know what your problem is. How bad would it be to offer the man to come up for a glass of wine later on?” Louise leaned her arms on the table where they’d stopped to eat lunch at the Hotel Monteleone. They’d spent the last two hours shopping the boutiques in the French Quarter, finding Caroline the perfect little black dress for the gala later that evening.

  “That’s not going to happen. First, this is our weekend, right? And second, I don’t even know this guy. So, he’s a doctor. They can be asses as much as the next guy.” She took a sip of her fortifying sweet tea. “And third, he didn’t deny being with someone last night when I apologized for calling late. Clearly, he’s involved with someone else.”

  “So, whose gave was he visiting earlier?” Louise signed off on the check, taking care of lunch.

  Caroline shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m guessing it’s a family plot. Who knows?” More pressing on her mind was the battle of finding who they knew now to be Dr. Gavin, laying atop the chenille bedspread, his arm draped loosely over his head, his glasses dangling between his fingers and nothing but a towel draped precariously low on his hips. Mother of God. It had been forever since she’d seen a body so finely tuned and in so little to cover it. Tingles rushed through her even now at the thought, reminding her of what she’d been missing all of these months between work and exhaustion.

  “Well, despite what you imagined you heard. It’s quite possible he was entirely alone…and lonely, if you catch my drift.” Louise grinned.

  Caroline picked up her bags. “Seriously, can you imagine a guy like that being lonely?” she said following her friend out onto the sidewalk.

  Across the street in an empty storefront vestibule sat a fortune teller, one of many in the quarter.

  “Oh, my gosh. I have a great idea.” Louise grabbed Caroline’s arm.

  “No fortune tellers.”

  “No. Better. Tea leaves.” Louis tugged her down the block. “It’s the oldest tea shop in the quarter. Not far from here. It’s tradition if you come to New Orleans to have your tea leaves read.”

  “I thought it was to have beignets and café au lait at midnight at the Café du Monde?”

  “That, my dear, could have happened—still could, if you’d play your cards right with the good doctor.” Louise scolded as she dragged her down another block.

  They stopped in front of a store front with a large teacup sign hanging out over the sidewalk. Her friend opened the door and a blast of cool air beckoned Caroline to follow Louise inside. “Fine, but we’ll need to get back soon. I need to shower after you dragged me all over the place this morning or I’ll repulse all those handsome southern gentlemen you promised me would be there.”

  “You seem to be taking care of repulsing men all on your own,” Louise said eyeing the herbal tea blends.

  “Ouch. What’s that supposed to mean?” Caroline lowered her voice, but demanded nonetheless. Okay, so maybe she had a few pent-up sexual issues, doesn’t everyone?

  “It means, my friend that fate has clearly placed a prime specimen in front of you. And by prime, I mean holy hotness. Who knows where it could go if you’d lighten up a bit and give the poor guy a chance? I mean, you’re not looking to get married, but maybe you could have some fun?” Louise shrugged. “Two consenting adults, attracted to one another—in an exotic city known for its romantic mojo and mystery.” Louise sighed, shook her head and looked at Caroline. “Baby girl, let the good times roll. You could use it.”

  The image of his towel slithering to the floor and the sight of the good doctor’s broad shoulders, lean waist, and tight buns caused her to salivate—a little. “Okay, okay, let’s get this tea leaf thing over with.”

  Louise grinned. “I’m wearing you down, aren’t I?”

  A few moments later, Caroline sat in a curtained off cubicle, seated across a waist-high table from a middle-aged gentleman. Smoke curled from an ornately decorated marble dish, the glow of a table lamp cast a soft glow on the small space. He spoke carefully, in soothing tones that eased her nervousness. In her lulled state, Dr. Gavin’s smile as he left earlier hovered in her brain. Had she jumped to conclusions about him? Had she wanted to believe there was some
one else so as not to be burdened with having to face her attraction?

  “I see you’ve found friendship while visiting our city. That’s good, yes?” the man said with a gentle smile.

  Caroline returned it his smile. She and Louise had had a great time rekindling their friendship. “I’m here visiting my college friend, yes, it’s been wonderful.”

  He flipped the cup over the saucer and turned it lifting it carefully. “It appears you will meet several new people soon. One more special than the others, perhaps. Much emotion. Much…passion surrounds him.”

  Him? Caroline straightened, focusing closer on the man’s reading.

  “The outcome is unclear. But the meeting will be good. Yes, very exciting. Fiery, to be exact. Could be good. Could be very intense.”

  “Intense?” Caroline repeated, staring at the cup. “Can you tell me more? Who is this man? Where will I meet him?”

  The older man frowned, turning the cup this way and that. “It is unclear, but soon. You will make a journey—a wedding.”

  Caroline nodded. “My brother’s just gotten engaged.”

  He nodded as he continued to study, his discipline drawing on Caroline’s curiosity.

  “Beignets at midnight?” He glanced up with an inquisitive look. “Does this mean anything to you?”

  Caroline met his soft gaze. “I don’t know. It might.”

  The reader smiled, deep laugh lines framing the corners of his eyes. “You care cautious. Not a bad thing.” He paused. “But in this, you must open your heart and also your mind. Embrace your opportunities. Do not be afraid.” His brows knit together. “Not all is clear. In due time, yes, in due time. Choices may affect the outcome. Very important, our choices. Is your heart open to adventure? Can you trust what you cannot explain?” He smiled at her. “All good things, if you want them to be.”

  Louise could barely contain her excitement as they listened to the complimentary session on her car’s CD player. “This is exactly what I’ve been trying to tell you, sweetheart. Fate has tossed you a bone and its time you grabbed it with both hands.”