We held the ceremony in the little Catholic church in Abbeville, only about two miles from Clothilde’s house—our house. It felt weird calling it that. During the ceremony, I looked over my shoulder to see Lyla stealing glances at her boyfriend, Peter, in the second row. He sat behind Cee Cee who was a human faucet. I think she went through three handkerchiefs. I tried not to look at Lyla, though, because she stood next to Carrie, and every time I caught her eye, she made me giggle. Even Ruby looked happy for me.
Jonathan, now twelve, was the best man and, in front of everyone at the reception, he picked Lucas up and hoisted him onto his shoulders. We got some surprised looks from most of the guests, but Lucas didn’t scold him. After Jon set him down, Lucas hugged him and said, “Thanks for the ride, buddy.”
It scares me sometimes how quickly time has gone by. I watch Lyla change each year, shooting up a few inches, and what baby fat that was left fell away. Her neck became long and slender, and her eyes began to twinkle more around boys her age, but for the last year she only had eyes for Peter. She just got her driver’s license and, thanks to Lucas, is the only girl in her class who can drive stick shift on a 1993 pickup truck. I hesitate to call her a typical teenager after all she’s been though and given her power. She plans to put that ability to good use by becoming a veterinarian. She has a part time job at the veterinarian’s office here in Abbeville.
I’d like to say there was a happily ever after for us, but fairytales aren’t reality. But there is happiness. Lots of it.
The older I get, the more I think of Clothilde and how hard she fought to take care of us. I miss her and my parents, my brother, and Noah, too. I look back on my childhood when everyone was alive and happy. But despite my stubborn will to hold on to the past, I’ve come to realize that I still have a family, even if it’s different from the one I started with. Change is constant, and we have to evolve or we wind up bitter and resentful, wishing to be with ghosts instead of the living. I catch myself feeling mournful of those I lost, but then remember what Clothilde said just before she slipped away: “There is no death.” Those words echo sometimes, just as I’m about to fall asleep.
C’est Tout
Acknowledgements
The last couple of years of my life have been a whirlwind. I don’t think I would have survived without my friends and family, and the support of so many wonderful people who kept my spirits up in the difficult times.
Thank you to Gretchen, my dear friend who always helps me to see the sunny side of life. In my eyes, you’re really Carrie in my books, so don’t feel too badly about the outcome of the Gretchen character.
To my mother for going above and beyond with her support.
To the Knighten, Deville and Harris families (and of course the outer branches) for their kind hearts and comforting words during a very difficult time for our family. A special thank you to Bert Harris for her love and dedication when it was needed most.
To my test readers: Travis Fontenot, Alice Fontenot, Gretchen Frith and Christopher Shawn Pujol. Your advice truly helped me to make this book the best it can be.
And thank you to you guys, the readers, who continue to help me live out one of my biggest dreams.
NKD
6-29-2014
Nancy K. Duplechain - Dark Trilogy 03 - Dark Legacy Page 28
