by Emery, Lynn
***
“For a while, I thought you weren't going to agree to see me again.”Anthony keep his eyes ahead on the highway.
“I've really been busy. Honest.”Michelle could feel his skepticism though he said nothing.”Beautiful day.”She looked out of the window to her right.
It was a weak attempt to get on safer ground she knew. But it she was sincere at least in her description of the landscape. After three weeks of putting him off, she finally agreed to a ride in the country. Still lounging in her pajamas with the Sunday paper spread all over the bed, his call had taken her by surprise that morning. Before she knew it, she had agreed that the weather was wonderful, and yes she would enjoy seeing the countryside. So after church, Anthony told her, he would change clothes and pick her up.
It was a glorious October day of cool temperatures in the early morning hours warming up to the seventies by afternoon. The low humidity, an infrequent occurrence in south Louisiana, made the mild temperatures even more enjoyable. Leaves a mixture of greens and various shades of orange, waved in the light breeze creating a gorgeous ripple of color in the sunshine. Yellow, blue, and lavender wild flowers bloomed along the highway and in the fields they passed. All this framed by a cloudless, blue sky made the day a splendid work of art not created by man.
“I see you brought a camera.” Michelle lifted it from the seat between them.
“Yeah, sort of a hobby. I want to get some pictures. The water dropped in the spillway leaving behind a temporary lake with fish trapped in it. They say the flocks of herons, egrets, and pelicans are a fabulous sight.”Anthony turned onto the old highway leading into the little town of New Roads.
“I'll bet. I love this time of year.” Michelle rolled down the car window a little more breathing in deeply.
They passed fields of sugar cane not yet harvested. Large trucks loaded with the sweet stalks headed for the sugar mills. During this season, the mills operated day and night to produce the thick, sweet syrup so favored in Louisiana. As they rounded a curve, the lovely sun dappled False River came into view.
“Have you done much fishing since you got back?”Michelle remembered how much he enjoyed the sport.
“Not nearly enough. Say, why don't we plan a day of fishing? We had some really good times back then.”Anthony smiled though he kept watching the road ahead.
“I don't know.”Michelle could have kicked herself for bringing it up. She had forgotten about the trips, dates really. Times spent alone growing closer, when their friendship blossomed into much more.
“Come on. Now that's something we can do at the spur of the moment when the weather's right. We've got until the middle of December before the water gets too cold. What do you say?”Anthony glanced at her.
“Okay, guess I'll have to dust off my old rod, reel and popping cork. I haven't gone very often lately. In fact, I left my fishing gear in my parent's garage,” Michelle said.
“Then it's settled.”He grinned broadly.”Let's say False River any Sunday after church, deal?”
“Deal.”Michelle returned his smile, her heart skipping a little. She forced her gaze away from his aware that she was in danger doing something foolish like reaching for his hand.
Leaving behind the charming little town of New Roads, they turned onto Highway 1 leading to the even smaller town of Morganza just north of which was the spillway. They drove for several miles in silence, enjoying the view and the soft jazz playing on the radio. As they approached the spillway, Michelle gasped with delight. Spread out on the water and perched on tree branches were hundreds of birds. Large gray pelicans spread their wings lazily as they bobbed in the gentle waves. Snowy white herons circled above in graceful flight.
“Say, seems like more than the birds are going to feast on fish today.”Anthony pointed. He pulled onto a dirt road leading to a levee.
There was a scattered crowd of fishermen and women. Some stood along the bank; a few were in bateaux in the water. Birds and people shared a peaceful, co-existence as they pursued the same goal.
“This would make a fantastic picture.” Michelle gazed around her lost in the scene.
“You're absolutely right.”
For the next hour, they strolled up and down the levee both happily discovering sights for Anthony to photograph. Like children at play, they scrambled down to the water's edge where Anthony eagerly snapped close up shots.
“Look at that!”Michelle tugged at his shoulder pointing to a pelican, its large wings flapping as it descended to the water.
“Got it. This new camera is great. That will be an awesome picture. I can't wait to get it developed.”Anthony checked the camera settings.
“You develop them yourself?”
“Yeah, it's as much fun as taking them. I've converted the extra bedroom in my condo into a dark room. And today you can be my lovely assistant. Tell you what; let's have lunch at Thibaut's on False River. Then we can go down to Old River and take some pictures there. We can wind up the day seeing the results of our work.”Anthony took her hand to help her climb the levee even though the slope up was gentle.
“Well--”
“Listen, if I promise to be on my best behavior and think only pure thoughts will you say yes?”Anthony, face solemn, held up one hand as if taking an oath.
“On your honor as a Big Buddy and role model to the youth of this great nation?”Michelle smothered a giggle trying to match his expression.
“I swear.”
“Okay, but on one condition, I pay for my meal.”
“We'll discuss that later.”Anthony cupped her elbow and led her back to the car.
“Anthony--”
He bustled her into the passenger side of his car cutting off further protest. “Now let's go eat. My stomach is talking to me.”
The restaurant dining room had a wide view of the river and they were lucky enough to get a table near the large window. The long list of delicious choices made ordering difficult. After much discussion, they handed they menus back to the waitress and admired the scenery. Lunch was so enjoyable, they almost hated to leave. Yet the lure of more beautiful vistas to see and photograph was just as strong. For the rest of the afternoon they drove along the bayous and through small towns. Michelle forgot to question the wisdom of spending an entire day with Anthony. She was totally caught up in savoring the freedom of having no planned destination, no appointments, and no idea of what they might see around the next curve. There were no more awkward moments between them. Although there were long moments when neither spoke, it was a comfortable silence. They relaxed in a shared pleasure of their surroundings.
As the sun began to set, Michelle grew less sure that agreeing to spend the evening with Anthony was wise. Her anxiety increased when, after showing her around and getting her settled on the large sofa of his living room, Anthony switched on the compact disc. Strains of pulsating blues played softly. Muted lighting combined with the gray, blue, and dark green colors of room to make create an air of intimacy.
“Since it's only five o'clock, we can have dinner after we finish. I can whip us up something right here.”Anthony poured a solution in a pan.
“Here? No,” Michelle blurted out sharply. “I mean, don't go to any trouble dirtying up a lot of dishes.”
“No problem, you'll be helping with the clean up.”Anthony laughed.
“I'm not too hungry.” Michelle cast about in her mind for other reasons for not to stay longer.
“Not too hungry? You had a crab salad, I had a shrimp salad. Very satisfying for a few hours, but definitely not for the rest of the night. I make a mean pasta with mixed vegetables. Remember, I promised to be good.”Anthony paused before turning off the light.
“All right.”Michelle swore at herself silently. He had promised to behave, but could she?
The closeness of the dark room enveloped her. They worked together, Anthony explaining each step of the developing process. Michelle found her mind wandering from the task each time he stood near her. The
companionable chatter between them felt right, as though they had never been apart.
“There. Now we let those dry,” Anthony said. The prints hung on a wire stung across one corner of the room.
Anthony flipped the light switch and led the way back to the living room. Pouring Michelle another glass of Chardonnay, he kept of a steady stream of conversation from the kitchen as he cooked. Michelle drifted from the kitchen to living room and back again. They talked about everything from politics to religion, agreeing on some subjects and sparring on others. Michelle did not know if it was the wine, the music, or the cozy feel of their companionship, but suddenly she became acutely aware that the warm flush she felt was definitely not the wine. After dinner, Michelle washed the dishes while Anthony dried. He shooed her out and put them away alone. Michelle, after pausing to consider, sat in the large chair. She pretended not to notice the amused half smile Anthony wore briefly when he came out of the kitchen.
“You're pretty handy with a dishcloth.”Anthony sat on the end of the sofa near her.
“So are you. And unless you have a maid service to clean up, you're not a bad housekeeper either.” Michelle glanced around the tidy room.
“No indeed. Mama taught me everything I know. She always made it clear that keeping a house clean should be shared by everybody that helped get it dirty.”
“Smart lady your mama. You'll make some woman a fine husband.”
“You think so?”Anthony gazed at her, a twinkle in his eye.
Michelle hopped up from the sofa. To hide her discomfort, she sorted through the stack of compact discs. “Very nice collection.”
“Thanks, I've been scouring record stores to get Louie Armstrong, Billie Holiday, and Alberta Hunter recordings. Listen to this.” Joining her, Anthony switched off the music to place another disc in the player.
Sarah Vaughn's voice, sweet and strong, filled the room singing a ballad. Without warning, Anthony pulled her away from the bookcase and led her in a slow dance. For a time, a very short time, Michelle strained to keep him at arm’s length. Though she couldn’t remember how or when, the song ended to find her body pressed against his and her head resting on his shoulder. As she lifted her head to step back, his mouth caught hers. Another song began as they clung to each other kissing deeply, eagerly.
“Anthony, this isn't a good idea.” Michelle's protest, murmured between tender caresses from his lips, sounded weak even to her own ears.
“Feels like a very good idea.”Anthony flattened his body to hers, his hands gripping her hips. “Chelle, I want you. I can't settle for being just a friend.”
Michelle uttered a muffled moan as his tongue found hers. Yet somehow through the velvet haze of hunger that surged through her from head to toe, a tiny voice of caution sounded.
“No wait.”Breathless, Michelle pulled back from him. The room seemed to dip and sway.”This is too much, too soon.”She waved him away with great effort as he tried to embrace her again.
With a tremulous breath, Anthony let his arms fall to his sides.”We've been lying to each other for weeks, Chelle. You don't believe we can just be buddies any more than I do.”
“But we started growing up after high school, remember?”Michelle felt her equilibrium returning gradually as the days leading up to their final confrontation came back to her sharply. Those memories were like a dash of cold water in her face. She inched away from him.
“But not enough. We were still kids even then. Looking back on it now, I see myself not being able to talk about my feelings and you so angry you couldn't listen.”
Michelle closed her eyes.”Things haven't changed, I'm afraid.”
“I have.”Anthony took her hand and led her to the sofa.”I'm willing to talk. And I think you're willing to listen.”
“You mean we should talk about us and what happened without anger or accusations?” Michelle said in a small voice.
“It's what I've wanted for a long time, Chelle.”He brushed a stray tendril of hair from her eyes.”Can we try?”
Michelle's heart raced as she looked at the soft, imploring expression he wore. Could she be making another mistake? Having him look at her this way made the conviction to keep him at a distance begin to crumble. A tiny voice whispered not to give in. But his touch awakened a long dormant yearning. “Yes,” she murmured.
Chapter 5
“Hello, Marcus.”Anthony stood in his uncle's large family room. He eyed his cousin warily.
“What's up?” Marcus took a long pull from the beer bottle he held. Looking Anthony up and down, he gave a short grunt. “Nice clothes. Nice car, too. Living well, huh?”
“I'm doing okay. How've you been?”Anthony settled on the huge black leather sofa.
“Fine since I got out. The first few nights I had trouble sleeping though. Funny how even after just eighteen months in prison you can get so programmed to follow orders.” Marcus tipped the bottle and finding it empty, went to the small refrigerator behind the bar to get another.
“It's going to take some time, but you'll be all right.”
“I'll do better than all right.” Marcus looked up at him frowning. “I've got plans.”
“Yeah?”Anthony kept his voice and expression as neutral as possible. Marcus had always had plans, plans that generally led to big trouble.
“Yeah. I'm going to start my own business.”
“Really? That sounds good.”Anthony gave him a slight smile.
“You don't think I can do it, right?”
“If you work hard at something and stick to it, you can do anything.”Anthony chose his words carefully.
“Maybe I'm not the big shot you are now, but wait and see. I intend to make it big.”
“You always do,” Anthony muttered.
“Say what?”Marcus glared at him.
Ike strode into the room holding a small cell phone. “It's always something. I tell you, Anthony, you were right not to get into rental property. It’s one damn thing after another with tenants. Now, what are you boys drinking? Say, Anthony, Marcus looks pretty good, huh?” He was moving, talking, and fixing himself a drink, still energized from a long day.
“Yeah, sure.” Anthony tried to put a lift into his voice that he did not feel.
“Yeah.” Ike took a sip of his screwdriver and gave his son an appraising look. “Pretty good for a jail bird.”
“If I was white I wouldn't have gotten time for a little marijuana.” Marcus frowned, his face showed bitterness.
“Lucky for you they only found traces of cocaine. Else your butt would've been sent up for twenty years. Not to mention you had violated probation four or five times. I couldn't talk or buy you outta that fix. Your color ain't had nothing to do with it.” Ike spoke disdainfully.
“I'm through with drugs. I got too much going for me for that. It's not worth it.”
“Yeah. How many times have I heard that before?” Ike waved a hand at him.
“I'm serious. I don't need it anymore.”
“Uh-huh, we'll see. Say, boy, tell Anthony about your latest get rich scheme.”
Anthony grew uneasy with the direction the discussion was taking. “Hey, let's not talk about business now. What do you say we go out to Phil's for steak.”
“No, no. You gotta hear this one first. Go on, Marcus. Tell him.” Ike perched on one of the leather bar stools.
“Insurance. I want to open my own insurance company. It's a good idea, too,” Marcus added defensively.
Ike ignored him. “Anthony, will you tell him how this state is cracking down on insurance companies. They've got strict new regs.”
“Maybe he should try it out. Besides, Marcus does well with selling,” Anthony said, trying to support his cousin in the face of Ike's skepticism.
“The boy don't know a damn thing about the insurance business.”
Marcus stared at Ike, his dark eyes flashing defiance. He spoke in a tight, controlled voice. “I worked for Mr. Trahan selling policies and helping his customers collect c
laims. I do know about insurance.”
Ike gave a raspy grunt in derision. “When you showed up for work. Trahan did me a favor hiring you, boy.” Turning, he spoke to Anthony. “He tolerated his foolishness because I got Trahan a lot of business.”
“He was good though. Mr. Trahan said so.”Anthony hated having to defend Marcus.
“Like I said, when he showed up for work. And where does he think he's going to get money to start his own business?”
“It wouldn't cost that much. Just a few thousand dollars. I could have a couple of offices in your building. I'll need to hire a secretary--”
“Forget it,” Ike snapped.
“At least listen to what I'm trying to tell you.” Marcus came from behind the bar to stand next to his father.
“Don't matter. I ain't spendin' none of my money on you openin' up no business. You can't stand getting up in the morning to work for somebody else. You got no discipline. To have your own business means you work ten times harder 'cause you gotta do it all yourself. What happened when I let you manage some of my properties? Huh, boy? Let's talk about that.” Ike set his empty glass down with a bang.
“Uncle Ike, I think Marcus could maybe start by working for Mr. Trahan again. Then if he sticks to it, you might consider setting him up.”Anthony searched for away to head off a clash, to offer some middle ground that both could accept.
“I don't need you to speak for me! You stay out of this,” Marcus growled at Anthony. He turned to Ike. “Ever since we were kids, you been putting him before me. Where did he get the money for his business? From you, that's who. But when I ask you for a few dollars, you start throwing up stuff in my face from way back. How come? Why can't you show me some respect?”Marcus shouted.
“First thing you gonna do is lower your voice to me, boy.” Ike rose slowly to face his son. He stared at Marcus through eyes narrowed to slits, his rapid breathing audible in the deadly silence that followed his words.
“Daddy, I...” Marcus stammered, then stopped. Unable to take his eyes away from his father's, he backed away until he stood against the wall next to the fireplace.
