Mimosa Grove

by Sharon Sala

  “Oh, my!” Estelle gasped, wondering what would happen to her. With Laurel gone and Robert Scanlon leaving the country, she hoped her job was not in danger.

  “I hope you’ll be comfortable staying on, even though you’ll be on your own. As long as the house is maintained, you can feel free to keep your own hours. I don’t like the idea of leaving the place empty.”

  Estelle breathed a sigh of relief. “Oh, yes, sir… certainly. How long do you plan to be gone?”

  He frowned. “About a month. You’ll have my cell phone number, and I’ll call to check in on you from time to time. Certainly to let you know when I’m due home.”

  “Yes, sir. What about Laurel? Is she going with you?”

  “No. She has her own life right now, although I am going to drive down to Bayou Jean and see her before I leave.”

  “Please give her my best,” Estelle said. “I miss her.”

  Robert sighed. “Yes. I miss her, too,” and as he said it, he realized he really meant it. “I’m going upstairs to pack. I’ll be leaving first thing tomorrow morning.”

  ***

  Laurel was shaking, partly from nerves, partly from excitement, as she fixed her hair at the mirror. Tonight she would be with Justin, in the midst of his family, facing people who knew she was different. Justin had not seemed to care, but her experience had proved that he was the minority. She wanted to make a good impression on him and his sister, not freak them all out, but she never knew what was going to happen or what she might “see.” Being in the midst of so many strangers could set off all kinds of bells and whistles, and the last thing she wanted was to embarrass herself or Justin.

  “Honey girl… you gonna brush that hair right off your head if you don’t stop.”

  Laurel looked up. Marie was standing in the doorway to her bedroom with an armful of clean towels. Even though it was close to sundown, her pink cotton dress was still as clean and fresh as when she’d put it on this morning. Her only concession to the end of the day was that she was now wearing house slippers rather than her usual yellow flip-flops.

  Laurel sighed, then laid the hairbrush down on her dresser.

  “I’m sort of nervous about tonight,” she said.

  Marie carried the towels into the bathroom and put them in the linen closet, then stood back with her hands on her hips and gave Laurel a once-over.

  “Well, you look fine to me. You wearin’ those jeans just fine, and that pink T-shirt looks real nice on you, too. Justin gonna have a time keepin’ his hands to hisself.”

  Laurel blushed. She didn’t want him to keep his hands to himself, but she could hardly tell that to Marie.

  “Mamárie… I didn’t think to ask, but are parties like this potluck? Should I be bringing something?”

  “No. You the guest of honor, remember?”

  “How can I forget?” Laurel muttered, and flopped down on the side of the bed.

  Marie moved in front of Laurel, then tilted Laurel’s chin.

  “Look at me, baby.”

  “I’m looking.”

  Marie grinned. “You’re gonna be fine. People down here loved your grandmama. They gonna love you, too.”

  Laurel looked long and hard into the old woman’s face, past the years and the wrinkles, into dark eyes rich with wisdom. Finally she leaned forward and wrapped her arms around Marie’s waist.

  Marie pulled Laurel’s head onto her breast, then rocked her gently against her where she stood.

  “You just trust Mamárie…. I’ll take care of you, just like I took care of my Marcella.”

  Laurel was so moved she wanted to cry.

  “Why, Mamárie?”

  “Why what, honey girl?”

  “Why do you stay here at Mimosa Grove? You could go anywhere, do anything, and yet you’ve all but buried yourself in this place.”

  An expression crossed Marie’s face that Laurel didn’t see. By the time she looked up, Marie had regained her composure.

  “For as long as there’s been a Mimosa Grove, there’s been a member of my family here, as well. It’s hard to explain, but our lives are intertwined with Chantelle LeDeux’s descendants as surely as if we shared the same blood.”

  “I suppose I should stop second-guessing my good fortune,” Laurel said. “You’ve made me feel welcome… even loved. I’m very glad that you’re here.”

  “No happier than I am to have you,” Marie said, then gave her a quick kiss on the forehead. “Now quit worrying about things that have yet to happen. Just have a good time and don’t let that good-lookin’ Cajun talk you into anything you don’t want to do.”

  Laurel hugged Marie tight, but before Marie could say anything further, they both heard a car driving up.

  “Someone’s coming,” Marie said. “Probably Justin. Go powder your nose and wash those tears out of your eyes. I’ll tell him you’re on the way down.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Laurel said, then sat there on the side of the bed, listening to Marie’s footsteps as they moved along the hallway, then down the stairs.

  She was still sitting on the side of the bed when she heard the rumble of Justin’s voice in the vestibule. She stood; then, drawn like a magnet to his presence, she hurried down the stairs.

  9

  Justin was teasing Marie about not bringing Laurel home before sunrise when he heard her coming down the stairs. The smile was still on his face as he turned around. As he did, the setting sun was reflected in a mirror opposite where he was standing and momentarily blinded him. He shifted one step to the left and then froze. For a fraction of a second, he would have sworn it wasn’t Laurel who was coming down the stairs but a small, slender woman with thick red hair piled high upon her head. She wasn’t wearing the blue jeans and T-shirt that Laurel had on. Instead, it appeared she had on an off-the-shoulder, floor-length white ball gown with what looked like a gardenia behind her right ear.

  Breath caught in the back of his throat. He blinked, and as quickly as the vision had appeared, it was gone.

  “Uh… I—”

  Laurel’s smile faltered. “What’s wrong?” she asked, then pulled nervously at the hem of her T-shirt. “Am I not dressed right?”

  Marie winked, then blew Laurel a kiss before she left, as Justin went up the stairs to meet her.

  “No. No. You’re perfect,” he said softly, then took her hands and turned them palms up, kissing one, then the other. “Forgive me. For a moment there, the sun was in my eyes. I thought I saw… uh—”

  “What?” Laurel asked. “What did you see?”

  “Nothing,” Justin said quickly.

  Too quickly for Laurel’s satisfaction.

  “Justin?”

  He shrugged, then grinned wryly, expecting her to laugh when he admitted what he’d seen.

  “For a moment there, I thought I saw a small, red-haired woman in a white ball gown coming down the stairs. But like I said, the sun was—”

  Laurel glanced around the foyer almost wistfully, wishing she was the one who’d seen her.

  “I guess it was Chantelle,” she said softly. “I’ve been reading about her. I think it’s stirred up her ghost.”

  Justin’s eyes widened, but he managed to refrain from looking over his shoulder. “Really?”

  “Yes, the house cleaners found her diary in the library earlier today.”

  Justin kept feeling as if someone was standing behind them, watching them talk. Unwilling to admit his fears to Laurel, he tugged at her hands instead.

  “We’d better go,” he said. “Since you’re the guest of honor, we don’t want to be late.”

  “If you’re sure I’m dressed all right, then I’m ready.”

  Justin eyed the curve of her hips, then the thrust of her breasts against the T-shirt, and whistled softly beneath his breath.

  “You’re not just all right, honey. You’re fantastic.”

  The wanting in his voice made her shiver.

  “You don’t look so bad yourself,” she said. “Besides, I’m s
tarving.”

  “Then we’re going to the right place,” Justin said, and led her outside.

  They were starting down the steps when Elvis sailed off the veranda roof and landed between them and Justin’s truck. Before either of them could react, the bird started to shriek.

  “Oh, good grief,” Laurel said.

  Justin started to grin as the peacock fanned his tail and began to strut back and forth.

  “You know what I think? I think Elvis has a crush on you.”

  “You can’t be serious,” Laurel muttered.

  “Well, let’s say I recognize the behavior. It’s similar to the way I behaved around the age of ten. I had a great big crush on Yvonne Martin, and to show my love, I pestered her constantly on the playground. Wouldn’t leave her alone. Couldn’t stand it if she wasn’t looking at me in some way. Of course, it never occurred to me that chucking handfuls of gravel at her hair wasn’t going to endear me to her.”

  Laurel laughed. “You didn’t.”

  Justin grinned. “Yeah, I did. And that’s what that stupid bird is doing. He’s always in your face, isn’t he?”

  “Well, yes, but—”

  “Does he always fan his tail like that?”

  Laurel stared at the big bird, absently admiring the magnificent colors as she thought back to her arrival.

  “You know, I think he does.”

  Justin laughed. “Just what I thought. Male peacocks show off their ‘stuff,’ so to speak, when flirting with a possible mate. So how do you feel about feathers?”

  “Oh, my lord,” Laurel said.

  “Don’t worry,” Justin said. “All he needs to know is that you’re already taken.”

  “That’s silly,” Laurel muttered. “How on earth can—”

  “Like this,” Justin said, and took Laurel in his arms.

  Before she could think, he was kissing her.

  At first he was gentle, laughing beneath his breath at the absurdity of staking his claim before a bird. But the softness of her lips and the slight moan he heard when he put his arms around her waist dragged him further under than he’d intended to go. They forgot about the peacock. They forgot about the party. And they almost forgot about where they were. It wasn’t until Justin started to pull her T-shirt over her head and lay her down beneath a sheltering mimosa that they came to their senses.

  “Have mercy,” Justin said, turned loose of her body, then took a single step back.

  Laurel was flushed and shaking, bereft by the distance between them after being anchored to the man and his need.

  He ran a hand through his hair, then looked at her in disbelief.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to… oh, hell. Truth is, you drive me crazy,” he said softly, then added, “But in a really good way.”

  Laurel swallowed past the knot in her throat, then straightened her clothing.

  “I know the feeling,” she said, then combed shaky hands through her hair. “Besides, I think Elvis got the message.”

  Justin looked. The peacock was gone.

  “Come on, honey,” Justin said. “Let’s party.”

  ***

  There were cars lining both sides of the dirt road in front of Tommy and Cheryl Ann Mouton’s home, leaving just enough space for a car to pass through. Hundreds of tiny white Christmas-style lights had been strung about the yard and beneath the porch, illuminating the area and adding to the festivities already in progress when Justin pulled up and parked.

  Laurel took one look at the yard full of people and tensed. She’d served as her father’s hostess for many years, knowing—and eventually not caring—what they thought of her. But tonight was different. She wanted to be accepted by these people so badly she could taste it. The hunger to belong was making her sick. Without thinking, she reached for Justin’s hand.

  “I didn’t know there would be this many people.”

  He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed her fingers before leaning over and kissing her lips.

  She sighed, then melted when he gently bit her lower lip before turning her loose.

  Laurel touched her lower lip with her fingertip, then shivered.

  “Since we’ve been intimate sexually, we were going to turn it around and take our relationship slow.”

  “Bad decision,” Justin whispered, then tucked a dark red curl behind her ear and winked.

  Laurel sighed. “I’m nervous.”

  Justin frowned. “Of me?”

  “No, silly. Of them.”

  She pointed toward the crowd. He grinned. “Don’t be. They’re just like me.”

  Laurel eyed the crowd. “Oh, Lord.”

  He laughed out loud. “Not in that way. But they’re harmless, just the same.”

  “You’re not,” Laurel argued.

  Justin’s grin widened. “Chère, where you’re concerned, I am helpless to resist you.”

  “Helpless and harmless are two different things,” Laurel muttered. “So take me to the party before I back out of this deal.”

  He gave her hand a last comforting squeeze and then helped her out of the truck.

  “Hey, ya’ll!” Justin called. “Did you save us some crawfish?”

  A small, dark-haired woman and a tall, sandy-haired man quickly separated themselves from the crowd and came to meet them. Almost immediately, Laurel was engulfed within the man’s big arms, then lifted off her feet.

  “Hey, Tommy, put her down, she’s mine,” Justin growled.

  Tommy Mouton put her down but did not immediately turn her loose. His eyes welled quickly with tears, which ran unashamedly down his face.

  “You saved my baby,” he said, his voice gruff with emotion. “Know that I am forever in your debt. If you are ever in need, all you have to do is call.”

  Justin slid an arm across his brother-in-law’s back, then looked at Laurel.

  “Honey, this is my sister, Cheryl Ann, and her husband, Tommy.”

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Laurel said.

  Cheryl Ann Mouton clasped Laurel’s hands.

  “No, dear lady, the pleasure is all ours, and Tommy is right. ‘Thank you’ is a pitiful pair of words compared to what you have given back to us. Rachelle is our everything.” Then she started to cry. “I don’t know how… there aren’t words to—”

  “Enough,” Laurel said. “It was Justin who found her.”

  “But only because you showed me where to look,” Justin said softly. “It’s true. Rachelle is the jewel of our small family. The loss of her life would have been devastating to us all. I add my thanks again for what you did.”

  Laurel started to look away, then lifted her chin and faced them instead. It was time she started acknowledging the truth.

  “It is my gift.”

  “Then we will praise God for your blessing,” Tommy said. “So come, come. Everyone is anxious to meet you.”

  Justin tugged at her hand, urging her to follow Tommy and Cheryl Ann as they waved to silence the band. The music stopped. When it did, everyone turned to see why. When they saw Justin with the stranger, the murmur of happy voices and laughter stopped as quickly as the music.

  Once more Laurel felt herself on display, but it didn’t last long. Tommy’s voice rose into the air.

  “Everyone, this is Miz Marcella’s granddaughter, Laurel. If not for her, our baby, Rachelle, would have drowned.”

  There was a huge round of clapping and cheers. More than one person stepped forward to pat Laurel on the back. A woman handed her a can of cold pop, while another remarked on her resemblance to her grandmother, Marcella. In the middle of all that, Tommy beckoned to Justin. “Go rescue your lady before she decides to abandon you.”

  Laurel turned and smiled at Tommy.

  “That’s not likely,” she said.

  “Come with me,” Justin said, and slid an arm around Laurel’s waist as they followed his sister through the crowd. Laurel ducked to miss a low-hanging string of lights, and when she looked up, realized they had stopped.
r />   “What’s going on?” she asked.

  Justin pointed at his sister, who was bending down to pick up a little girl. “Sis said Rachelle has something she wants to say to you.”

  Laurel saw a dark-haired, wide-eyed child looking at her from over her mother’s shoulder, and stilled. Then she took a deep breath and smiled. She remembered the little girl all too well, only the last time she’d seen her, she’d been scared out of her mind and on the verge of drowning.

  “Hello,” Laurel said softly. “It’s very nice to meet you.”

  The little girl ducked her head; then Cheryl Ann whispered something in her ear. Finally the child raised her head and looked at Laurel.

  “Thank you for helping Uncle Justin find me when I was lost.”

  There was a stray curl near Rachelle Mouton’s right eye. Without thinking, Laurel reached out and tucked it behind the child’s ear.

  “You’re welcome,” she said softly, then added, “You were very brave, you know. You did everything your uncle told you to do.”

  Rachelle’s lips pursed as she studied Laurel’s eyes.

  “At first I was scared,” she admitted. “Then I heard you in my head and I wasn’t scared anymore.”

  Breath caught in the back of Laurel’s throat. She tried to speak, but all she could manage was a smile.

  “Praise God,” Cheryl Ann whispered, and stared at Laurel as if she were a ghost.

  Laurel’s heart sank when she realized what had been said. Now they knew that she’d been inside the child’s head, urging her to wait for her uncle instead of jumping into the water. They were bound to think she knew what everyone was thinking, which was far from the truth. She sighed. It had started off so well. She should have known it wasn’t going to last.

  “It’s not what you think,” Laurel muttered. “I didn’t really… I mean, she was going to walk off that stump and I just…”

  Tommy shuddered, then stared at their child anew.

  “We didn’t know,” he said, and then started to cry. “Dear God, she didn’t tell us that. If she hadn’t listened to you, Justin would not have been able to save her.”

  Justin slipped an arm around Laurel’s waist, then impulsively turned her in his arms and kissed her soundly.