by Lenora Worth
Alma grinned at her father’s question. “Strawberry shortcake—freshly baked sweet yellow cake with strawberries straight out of Tangipahoa Parish. Whipped-cream topping.” She followed Callie into the kitchen.
“Wow-wee,” Julien said, pumping his fist. “I’m so glad I married the cook.”
Alma laughed out loud. “Oui, and your stomach is beginning to be glad, too. Which is why this dessert is low-fat.”
Both Julien and Mr. Blanchard looked shocked.
“Make mine a double,” Julien said in the voice of gloom.
Tomas saw the love shining through in their banter and figured their solemn moments came because they missed Lola, the matriarch of this family. He stole another glance at Callie. She was busy cutting cake and piling on strawberries. She looked natural, standing in the kitchen, still in her Sunday dress but barefoot now, her hair curled in a loose chignon, so prim and proper. Except for the stubborn golden strands that refused to be contained. Those loose tendrils framed her face with a curling, beckoning rebellion.
He still cared about her, still wanted to be with her, but he had to understand why she’d become so distant. Maybe because he’d held her in his arms, felt the current that swirled around them with the strength of a tugging tide. Maybe because she’d turned away and seemed determined to stay away and he needed to understand why.
Callie and Alma whispered in sisterly conspiracy in the kitchen while Julien and Mr. Blanchard plied Tomas with questions about the shipyard and his other properties here.
“Are you buying up dis town?” Mr. Blanchard asked with a glint of dare in his eyes.
“Not all of it,” Tomas replied. “Just the parts I want to own.”
“Why do you want to own property here?” Julien asked while the women passed out the dessert and poured coffee.
Tomas studied Callie to see her reaction. She gave him a quick glance then sat down beside him. The woman was certainly hard to read.
“It’s what I do,” he finally explained. “I wound up in Texas and acquired a lot of property near Dallas and then moved on to San Antonio. It kind of became my thing. I made a profit and kept at it. Now I buy companies and turn them around.”
“Then sell them again, for a profit?” Julien asked between bites of cake and strawberries.
“Yes. That’s the American way.”
“Are you going to sell Fleur House?”
Tomas turned at Callie’s question.
“That depends,” he said, his fork resting on his dessert plate.
“On what?” Alma asked, her tone challenging. She glanced from Tomas to her sister.
Tomas stared over at Callie. “On a lot of things.” Then he bit into the rich shortcake and tried to swallow the lump in his throat. “This is good,” he managed to croak.
Callie gave him a measuring gaze then dug into her own dessert.
Did she realize everything depended on her?
* * *
Thirty minutes later, Tomas stood out in the backyard waiting for Callie. She’d told him after dessert she’d show him the rest of the property. Mr. Blanchard had gone to his bedroom for his Sunday nap and Julien and Alma had gone home so Alma could rest. She was getting tired a lot more these days, they’d explained with smiles. Because of the baby.
A baby. Tomas was happy for Alma and Julien, of course. But he had to wonder if he’d ever find a family of his own. He thought of Callie and pictured her holding a tiny infant.
His heart did a spin of longing.
Callie would make a wonderful mother.
“Hey.”
He turned to find her walking toward him, still barefoot, her floral dress whispering around her long legs like wildflowers unfolding in the sun.
“Hello.” He waited for her to join him out by the bayou waters where he’d found a black bistro table and two wrought-iron chairs.
“Want to sit?” she asked, her head down.
“Yes. If you want to. Or should I go? I don’t want to disturb your father’s nap.”
“No, stay awhile. Papa’s a heavy sleeper.”
Tomas waited for her to sit then did the same. “You have a nice family.”
She gave him a direct stare, her eyes full of some mysterious something that he couldn’t pinpoint. “Yes, I do. We’re close.” She glanced across the water to the shoreline on the other side. “Tell me about your family.”
That question threw him off balance. He didn’t like to talk about his so-called family. “Not much to tell.”
“But you said you grew up near here. You must have moved away when you were young.”
“I was thirteen when I went to Texas.”
“Just you?”
“My mother had died. Remember, I went to live with my uncle.”
“I see.”
But he could tell from her questioning eyes she didn’t see.
“That didn’t work out so well, so I came back and stayed with Margie and Bob for a while. It’s a long story and...right now I’d rather talk to you about something else.”
She leaned forward, held her hands folded in her lap. “You want to know what happened with us, right?”
“Yes.” He watched her, wanted her to explain. “Callie, I didn’t mean to scare you. I’m sorry I pushed too hard, too fast. But...don’t be afraid of me. I...I enjoyed being with you. I’d like to see you again. Don’t avoid me, okay? If you’re not ready, if you’re not interested, I’ll understand. But don’t shut me out. I...I value our friendship.”
She looked shocked at first, but then her expression changed to somber and quiet. Resolve. He saw a quiet resolve there in her high cheekbones, in her determined eyes. He also noticed a dark fatigue around her eyes. “Callie, what’s wrong? What are you not telling me?”
She sat back and took a deep breath. “I value our friendship, too. I’m sorry I pulled away. I just needed to think this through. I don’t want to make another mistake.”
Relief washed over him. There was still a chance. “I understand. Neither do I.”
She lifted her head at that statement. “But...you loved your wife. You were devoted to her until the end.”
He nodded, closed his eyes to the memories. “Yes, I stayed with her until the end. But...I have a confession to make.”
“What’s that?”
“I didn’t love her the way I should have.”
Callie opened her hands and held tightly to the arms of her chair. “But...you told me you stayed with her. You tried to help her.”
“I did,” he said, getting up. “We got married very young and...we loved each other, but things started changing after we’d been together a few years. She couldn’t have children and she became bitter and distant.” He turned from the water and looked down at Callie. “This was during my start-up years so I worked a lot of long hours. She became more and more depressed and before I knew it, she had become dependent on prescription drugs.”
Callie stood and came to his side. “Did you stop loving her after you realized she was addicted?”
He shook his head. “I don’t think I ever truly loved her, not in the way I should have. I tolerated her because I was infatuated with her. She was beautiful—dark hair and eyes. But she’d always had this sad, somber disposition. It matched my own. In the end, we became toxic to each other. The love was gone from our marriage long before she died.”
Callie put a hand to her mouth. “That’s what you tried to tell me over and over. You stayed with a woman you didn’t love, out of duty and a sense of obligation?”
He lifted his head and looked into Callie’s eyes. “Yes, I did. I owed her that much at least.”
“Yes, yes, you did,” Callie said. But he saw the shift in her, saw the fear returning to her eyes. “That must have been so hard on both of you.”
“The hardest thing I’ve ever done.” He twisted away to focus on the distant shore. “I couldn’t abandon her.”
The bayou ran a greenish-black, a soft gurgling that took it toward the big bay. A splash down the way and the sound of ducks quacking broke the silence that had fallen between them.
“I don’t want to live like that again.” He turned to face Callie, but she had sunk back down onto her chair. She looked pale, so pale. “Callie, are you all right?”
“Yes. I’m fine. I...I think I just need to go home and get some rest.”
“I’ll drive you.”
“No, no. I have my car.” She got up, held to the table. “You go on, please.”
“But—”
Her eyes told him to leave. “Tomas, we’re good friends and I appreciate you worrying about me. But...we can’t take this any further. I’m not ready to do that. If you need me for anything, for the gardens and the landscaping, just call.”
Anger and doubt robbed him of his sense. “And you’ll send someone out to fix things?”
Guilt colored her face. “Yes. Or if I’m not busy, I’ll be there myself.”
“Right. Thanks for lunch.” He turned to walk back up toward the house, his heart sputtering and grinding.
Why had he told her the truth? He’d come here to find out what was wrong with her and instead, he’d poured out more of his secrets to her. And by doing so, he’d managed to push her even further away. What would she think if he told her all of his secrets?
They could never be friends. Because he wanted more. And he’d thought by opening up to her he’d be able to help her get past her obvious doubts. But the whole conversation had taken a bad turn. Was she disgusted with him for his inability to be a good husband?
He wanted her to understand that he had fallen for her.
And he knew in his heart that she had feelings for him, too. What he couldn’t figure out was why she’d suddenly decided to deny those feelings.
Chapter Fourteen
“He doesn’t want to go through that again.”
After making that declaration, Callie stared up at Alma. Two days after Tomas had told her his deepest fear, she still couldn’t bring herself to tell him the truth.
Alma’s sympathetic gaze turned to understanding. “So if you tell him about your cancer now, you think he’ll feel obligated, the same way he did with his wife?”
“Yes.” Callie shrugged. “Even though all of this is new to us—the feelings we have for each other—we can’t take things any further. It would be hard for both of us.”
They were at the Fleur Café, waiting to have lunch with Brenna. She and Nick were home from their brief stop in San Antonio to see Nick’s parents and now her sisters wanted details from the honeymoon. She’d promised pictures, too.
Callie had to tell Brenna about her diagnosis. Alma was there for support. “I won’t go through that again, either,” Callie said now, her voice low. “I still remember Dewayne’s eyes when...when he realized my body had changed after surgery. He looked confused and disgusted, but underneath all of that, he was terrified. He gave up. He gave up on me and our marriage. I’m only beginning to know Tomas, and I do have feelings for him, but...it’s too early in our relationship to dump all of this on him. If he can be a friend, that’s great. Nothing more right now.”
Alma tapped her unadorned fingernails on the table. “But you don’t know how he’ll react, Cal. He might surprise you.”
“No, he’ll do exactly what he told me he did with his wife. He’ll stay. He’ll feel obligated to...pretend he cares. I can handle friendship, but not pity or duty. I’ll get through this and then we’ll see.”
The door opened and in breezed Brenna, her hair caught up in an antique clip and her smile beaming. Callie envied the happy glow on her sister’s face. “Bonjour,” Brenna called, smiling and laughing as she waved to everyone with a just-arrived-from-Paris attitude.
Callie and Alma both hopped up to hug her. “We missed you,” Callie said, holding back tears.
“Sure did,” Alma added. “You look great. You look—”
“In love,” Callie finished, a shard of longing piercing her heart. “Now sit down and tell us everything.”
Brenna snuggled into the booth and took a breath. “Well...”
She stopped, her eyes on Callie. “What’s wrong?”
Callie gave Alma a pleading glance. “Nothing. Keep talking. Where are the pictures?”
“On my iPad,” Brenna said, her chin jutting out. “What’s wrong?”
Alma nodded to Callie. “We want to hear about you first.”
Brenna sat back, a stubborn glint in her eyes. “What is wrong? Is it Papa? The café? Alma, is the baby okay? Oh, did something happen at the nursery? Wait, it’s about Fleur House, right? Was Tomas rude to you?”
Alma glanced at Callie. “The baby is fine. We’re all fine.”
Callie grabbed her sister’s hand. “Tomas was a perfect gentleman, honey. I’ve finished there and he approved my landscaping.”
Brenna’s brows lifted. “And?”
“And nothing. It’s not about him.”
Brenna looked skeptical. “But...you and he...didn’t hit it off?”
“We’re friends,” Callie said, trying to practice the standard line. “Just friends.”
Brenna looked disappointed. “Is that all? Is there something else?” She stopped again, a hand going to her mouth. “Your checkup. I told Nick it was almost time for your five-year checkup.” She grabbed Callie’s hand. “You’re okay, right? Callie?”
Callie shook her head, dread bearing down on her like a heavy weight. “No, honey. But I will be. Soon.”
* * *
Spring moved through Tomas’s garden like a floral blanket unfolding over a bed. The vibrant colors and perfumed scents made a dramatic backdrop for the newly renovated mansion.
The big, lonely, newly renovated mansion.
He missed the sound of Elvis barking out by the bayou, missed Callie’s laughter floating over the trees. He even missed the rowdy youth group and their ability to tune out the world with earplugs and a little player full of music.
Tomas wished he could drown out the world. Or at least get Callie out of his head. He wanted to call her so he could hear her voice. But he refrained from that. He’d discovered the only way he could see her was at church.
A safe haven.
So he went to church to be near Callie and in the process, he actually began to listen to Reverend Guidry’s sermons. He also listened to the chatter of church ladies and learned a lot about this community from asking questions of the old-timers. The initial resentment they’d shown toward him was gradually fading, to be replaced with a grudging respect.
And he was beginning to hold a grudging admiration for this little town.
Which only added to his woes. When he started making the cuts at the shipyard, that attitude could change. But for now, he could hold off on that awhile longer. After talking with some of the employees, he’d been to the shipyard and watched them work, had met with them to come up with solutions. His original plan of taking over and stripping down the once-vital, vibrant industry had now shifted. He’d consider all suggestions, but he still needed to stick to his agenda.
But tonight, he’d forget about work for a while.
Tonight was Wednesday devotional and potluck at the church. Good fellowship and good food, as Reverend Guidry had put it.
“Son, when you got those two things in life, you are indeed a rich man.”
Tomas had believed he was already a rich man. But the jolly minister had a point. What good was being wealthy when you didn’t have food and fellowship with other human beings?
Or with the woman you wanted to have food and fellowship with? The w
oman you wanted to spend more time with?
So he turned from the balcony and straightened his casual button-down blue shirt, then headed downstairs. He was going to find the kind of nourishment that seemed to ease the pain of being alone.
Margie and Eunice were waiting at the portico to the garage.
At the sound of Tomas’s footsteps, they both turned.
“Hey,” he said, determined to keep walking.
“Where you headed?” Eunice asked, grinning.
“Same place as you,” Tomas replied.
“We’re waiting for Bob to get the car. Want a ride?”
“No. I’m taking my car.”
He heard feminine whispering behind him.
They still held out hope that Callie would come around.
He wanted to hold out hope, but he was beginning to think that maybe God had other plans for him. And here he’d thought he planned things for himself all the time.
His plan for tonight consisted of being in the same room with Callie. But when he got to the church, he couldn’t find her. Alma walked by, her head down, carrying a platter of fried chicken.
“Hello?” Tomas hurried to help her. “Let me.”
“Thanks,” Alma replied after he’d taken the serving pan. “This isn’t that heavy, but Julien watches me like a hawk.” She patted her growing tummy. “I’m a lot stronger than I look.”
“I can believe that.” He waited, looked around.
“She’s not here,” Alma replied, her expression sympathetic.
“Oh, okay. Night off?”
“She...uh...had some work to do at home.”
Tomas shrugged. “I just wanted to say hello.”
“I’ll tell her.”
He sensed Alma wanted to say more, but she turned and hurried away.
Over the next hour, Tomas ate his food without tasting it and tried to focus on the devotion lesson that centered on Easter. When he bumped into Nick at the dessert table, he glanced around again. “Where’s Brenna?”
“With Callie.” Nick’s expression changed. “I mean, I think she’s with Callie.”
“What are those two up to?”
