A Second Chance

by Kara Lennox

  “I am happy, Mama. I have wonderful parents, a wonderful daughter, a business I love. If I could have a man, too, that’d be great, but it’s not a necessity.”

  “Hmm,” her father said.

  “What?”

  “Nothing.”

  “I’D LIKE TO SEE my new boat, please.”

  Luc had been dreading this moment since Celeste’s arrival two days earlier. She’d initially loved the idea of offering cruises to the B and B guests, but she’d become downright balky when it came to forking over the dough to buy a boat.

  But Luc had talked her into it, confident he had plenty of time to refurbish the grimy pontoon boat he’d found before she saw it.

  All he’d done so far was hose off several years of accumulated swamp scum. He still needed to replace the cushions and canopy. It was, however, seaworthy, and the engine was in perfect running order.

  But Celeste wouldn’t focus on that.

  “Good morning, Grand-mère,” Luc said with faux cheerfulness, as he continued to beat the eggs for the omelets he had planned. With only two guests in residence, plus Celeste, he could afford to get fancy. He was going to customize each omelet, cooking it to order. “I can show you the boat right after breakfast.” He saw no other choice; it was her boat.

  “Very good,” she said. “Now then, for breakfast, I’d like one plain croissant with butter and strawberry jam and two slices of lean, crisp bacon. Also some hot, decaffeinated tea with honey.”

  A plain croissant. It figured Celeste would ask for the one thing Loretta hadn’t delivered earlier that morning. “How about a chocolate croissant? Or an almond one?”

  She looked scandalized. “Why would anyone want to ruin a perfectly good, traditional French pastry with a lot of sugar and other nonsense?”

  He took it that meant no. “I’m sorry, Grand-mère, I don’t have any plain croissants. I have white, wheat, rye and pumpernickel bread, cranberry orange muffins, low-fat blueberry muffins, coffee cake—”

  “What is the point of sleeping with a baker if she doesn’t provide you with the correct breads?”

  Luc gritted his teeth. His grandmother had made a career of provoking people. Sometimes he thought she was testing him to see how far she could push him before he blew—before he proved he was his father’s son, lost his temper and walked out on her and her bed-and-breakfast. At which point she could have him arrested and force him to serve the remainder of his sentence behind bars.

  He wouldn’t play her game; he wouldn’t give her the satisfaction.

  “I’m not merely sleeping with Loretta,” he said, keeping his voice even. “She’s a very special person to me. I have a great deal of admiration and respect for her. But since I am not psychic, I didn’t know that you would require a plain croissant this morning. So would you like one of the other choices? I can manage the bacon and the tea and all the rest.”

  He could have sworn the right corner of Celeste’s mouth turned up, just slightly. So she was playing him for her own amusement.

  “I’ll just have what everyone else is having,” she said. “And coffee is fine, never mind the tea. I’m used to having whatever I want at the Hotel Marchand when I visit, and I forget that a bed-and-breakfast is set up differently. Is there a newspaper I might read while I’m waiting?”

  He softened slightly. Maybe he was judging her too harshly. “In the dining room. There are three different ones.” He was almost afraid to offer her the omelet choices. Although he had nine different fillings on hand, she was sure to want something unavailable—anchovies or truffles.

  A few minutes later, however, he was pleasantly surprised. His guests raved about the omelets, and Celeste ate a cinnamon roll and a chocolate croissant, obviously enjoying them. The couple from Mobile lured Celeste into conversation about some mutual acquaintances.

  When the table was cleared and the dishwasher loaded, Doc tapped on the kitchen door and leaned his head in. “Anyone home?”

  “Hey, Doc,” Luc greeted him, “come on in. What brings you around so early?” Doc usually saw patients in the morning on Mondays and Wednesdays—it was as close to retired as he’d been able to get.

  “Oh, just out for my morning constitutional. Thought I’d stop by—oh, hello, Celeste. I didn’t think you would be up so early.”

  “Early? It’s almost nine o’clock.”

  Doc laughed at her curt tone as he poured himself a cup of coffee. “Why, I remember when you were a girl, your mama had a hard time prying you out of bed before noon!”

  Celeste glared at Doc. “I don’t think Luc is interested in my girlhood lack of discipline.”

  “On the contrary, Grand-mère, I find the details about your past very interesting, especially after seeing all those old pictures you brought.”

  Doc grinned, obviously enjoying Celeste’s discomfort, so Celeste did the only thing she could under the circumstances. She took control by changing the subject. “Luc was about to show me the boat he manipulated me into buying.”

  Doc’s smile vanished. He’d seen the boat. He could predict Celeste’s reaction as easily as Luc could.

  “Manipulated?” Luc objected. “You were the one who wanted to do more to attract the music festival crowd to the B and B.”

  “I got caught up in your enthusiasm,” she insisted. “Temporarily.”

  “A boat’s a good idea,” Doc interjected. “You wouldn’t believe what people around here charge for a swamp tour. Everyone’s all keen to see a gator, or an ivory-billed woodpecker.”

  Celeste stood and smoothed the front of her impeccably pressed beige trousers. “Well, let’s go have a look at this barge, then. Does it run? Can we take it out on the water?”

  “Of course it runs,” Luc said. “I wouldn’t buy a boat that doesn’t run. If Doc will watch the B and B for a few minutes—”

  “The B and B can take care of itself,” Celeste said. “I want Doc to come with us.”

  Good. Celeste was usually on better behavior when non-family members were around.

  Luc got the boat keys, then they all went out the kitchen door and around to a wide, red-brick path that meandered across the gently sloping lawn toward the bayou, the same area where he’d found Zara hunting crawfish the previous week. Bricks eventually gave way to a wooden boardwalk over the squishy ground, and then to the dock where the boat was tied.

  “Michel, would you give me your arm, please?” Celeste said, her voice almost coquettish. “I’m not wearing proper shoes for boating.”

  “Of course, my dear.”

  Luc resisted the urge to turn and stare at his grandmother. She was flirting with Doc! And Doc was flirting back. Luc shut his mind to the possibility. He refused to entertain the idea of his grandmother and Doc…what? Dating?

  Did octogenarians do more than hold hands?

  Luc squeezed his eyes shut and opened them again. “Well, here she is.” He fervently wished he’d parked the boat nose-in the last time he’d taken it out, but he’d backed it up instead. A few leaves had collected on the faded green-and-white canopy, which was folded down for storage, but otherwise the boat didn’t look as bad as he’d thought.

  It was the boat’s name, though, that caused him to wince.

  Celeste studied the vessel from stem to stern with a keen eye. “Well, now, it doesn’t look so bad. It’s got good lines.”

  “I thought so,” Luc said. As a child he’d been interested in boats and had studied pictures and read about them. He’d also worked a huge marine trade show in Las Vegas every year for three years before he’d left home. When he’d lived in Thailand he’d gotten out on the water every chance he had, so he knew a bit about water-craft.

  “Let’s see what she can—” Celeste stopped midsentence. “Oh. Mon Dieu, does that say…?” She was staring at the back of the boat. She’d seen it, the name.

  “That’s what it says, all right,” Doc said. “Bitchin’ Mama.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  “LUC, TELL ME you didn�
�t christen this boat the Bitchin’ Mama.”

  “No, it came like that,” Luc quickly reassured her. “Don’t worry, I’ll change it.”

  “That should have been the first thing you did! Have you actually taken our guests out in this thing?”

  Luc kicked a leaf off the dock. “I explained to them the circumstances.”

  “Couldn’t you ink out the name with a Magic Marker? Cover it with duct tape? It’s…it’s an abomination.”

  “I’ll scrape off the decal as soon as I can.”

  “Today.”

  “I have other work to do, Grand-mère. The B and B doesn’t run itself. I have cleaning, laundry, grocery shopping—”

  “You’ve become quite domestic since you moved to Indigo, haven’t you.”

  “That’s what you sent me here for, isn’t it?”

  “I wasn’t complaining. Just that I think it’s interesting.”

  So now he’d become her lab experiment. “I will try to work on the boat sometime this week, but I can’t today,” he said firmly. Aside from having to clean up after a full house over the weekend, he’d promised Loretta he’d make some phone calls for the VIP dinner.

  And then he had a date with Loretta. Or, more accurately, with Loretta and Zara. Tonight was the night they were sitting down with Zara to explain the nature of their relationship. And when they’d done that, he was taking Loretta out to dinner—a fancy, romantic dinner complete with candles and wine and soft music. He’d found a historic hotel in St. Martinville that fit the bill. She’d promised to arrange for a sitter for Zara—probably Adele and Vincent.

  This would be Luc’s first official date with Loretta. Maybe they’d gotten things a little backward, making love first, but no law said he couldn’t set things right now.

  Celeste looked as if she wanted to argue, but Doc stepped in. “Now, Celeste, let the boy alone. He’s been running La Petite Maison just fine without anyone’s help for several months now, and doing a fine job of it, too. You can’t come roaring in here changing the order of things on a whim.”

  “Wanting that name off my boat is not a whim,” she insisted mulishly.

  “Why don’t you take a spin in her?” Doc cajoled. “The smell of the bayou, the Spanish moss, trailing your hand in the water…remember how you used to do that?”

  “Until an alligator almost took my arm off,” she shot back, then laughed unexpectedly. “Oh, Michel, why don’t you and I go for a ride? We’ll just let Luc get back to his work.”

  Doc looked at Luc. “I can take your grandmother for a test drive. And I’ll make her wear a life jacket.”

  Luc nodded and handed the keys to Doc, then leaned in and whispered, “Keep her out as long as you like. She doesn’t have a curfew.”

  Doc roared with laughter and Celeste glowered. She didn’t like anyone keeping secrets from her. But then she smiled and tilted her head at Doc. “Let’s see what the Bitchin’ Mama can do.”

  Luc laughed all the way back to the house.

  LUC DIDN’T HAVE a lot of belongings he could call his own. Moving around most of his adult life, he simply hadn’t accumulated much. But he did own a couple of good-quality suits and everything that went with them.

  That afternoon, he washed his car, walked down to the barbershop and got his hair cut, then came home, ironed his favorite navy suit, and put it on. He cut some colorful chrysanthemums from the garden and wrapped them in wet paper towels and a plastic bag.

  Then he wandered out to the veranda. Doc had spent the entire day hanging out with Celeste. They’d come back from their lengthy boat ride looking windblown, with ruddy cheeks and sparkling eyes. Luc wondered what they’d been doing besides taking in the local flora and fauna, then he’d immediately censored the thought. He did not want to go there.

  “I’m leaving for the evening,” he said.

  Doc whistled. “Whoever she is, she must be special.”

  “You know who she is, and you know she’s special.”

  “Why, Luc,” Celeste said, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you looking so handsome.”

  “Thank you, Grand-mère.” He could have said the same for her—that he’d never seen her looking quite so pretty. He gave her a courtly bow, then left for Loretta’s. He hadn’t felt this excited about a date since…maybe never.

  As he drove up to the bakery, he realized he didn’t know where the front door to Loretta’s house was. He couldn’t remember seeing one. The sign on the door had been turned to Closed, and it was dark inside.

  But then he saw movement through the glass, and Loretta appeared with an apologetic smile as she unlocked the door. “I should have told you to walk around back to the kitchen,” she said. “When I remodeled, I took off the whole front of the house so I don’t have a front door any— Oh, my God, you look fabulous.”

  They stared at each other for a few seconds. Luc knew he should say something, but all his words were stuck in his throat. Loretta looked amazing. She was wearing a black velvet dress that showed a lot of leg and a lot of cleavage, and had tamed her usual spikes to a softer look, letting her hair fall into short tousled waves. She stared at him uncertainly. “Is something wrong?”

  “No. Oh, no, it’s just that you’re so gorgeous you struck me dumb.”

  “Oh, Luc,” she said, fluffing her hair self-consciously. He saw that she’d polished her nails for him—a dark, dramatic purple. She would probably have to turn around and remove every bit of that polish before she could do tomorrow’s baking. “I’m not very good at this fancy-dress stuff, really. You look like you were born to it.”

  “I know how to clean up,” he said with a grin. “Where’s Zara?”

  “I just sat her down with dinner. Are you ready for that talk?”

  “Absolutely. Let’s do it.”

  They moved from the dark bakery into the kitchen. Zara glanced up from her dinner of macaroni-and-cheese and broccoli, and her face lit up with pleasure.

  “Luc.”

  “Hi, gorgeous.”

  “Mama said you’re taking her out on a date.” It was almost an accusation.

  “Yes, that’s right, I am.”

  Loretta pulled out a chair at the oak kitchen table and sat down, and Luc took that as his signal to do the same. “I know we both told you that we weren’t dating, but as it turns out, we’ve changed our minds.”

  Zara looked down at her broccoli. “Okay.”

  Luc had thought she might be a bit more enthusiastic, that she’d be ready to send out the wedding invitations. Her cautious acceptance of the news seemed out of character. But maybe, after her last disappointment, she was afraid to hope for too much.

  “We decided we like each other too much to be just friends,” Luc added, though he was treading deep water here. “But we don’t want to mislead you. We’re not making any definite plans for the future.”

  “We’re taking things one day at a time,” Loretta added. “There’s a very good chance Luc will be moving away from Indigo in a few months, so it doesn’t make sense for us to make plans—you know, for a future. Long-term.”

  Loretta looked at Luc. He shrugged. He didn’t know how to explain it any better than she just had.

  “So Luc can’t be my dad, ever,” Zara said, trying to sound adult and practical. But her voice wavered, making Luc’s chest hurt.

  “Zara, if ever I was going to be a dad, I’d want a little girl just like you. No, let me say it stronger. I’d want you. But—”

  “I know, you can’t make promises.”

  “If you want to do some things together, just you and me, we can,” he said. “And we can all do things together, you and your mom and me. We can have a lot of fun. And later, if I do go away, we’ll have great memories.”

  “I still don’t know why you want to go away,” Zara said.

  “Maybe I won’t. Maybe I’ll stay longer.” It was the first time he’d acknowledged, out loud, that he might stick around, and it surprised even him. “The point is, we don’t know
right now what the future will bring. But we want to enjoy the time together we do have and not worry so much about what’s coming. Can you understand that?”

  She nodded. “I think so.”

  “Then could we have a smile?” Luc asked. “Let’s not be sad till we have a reason to be sad.”

  Zara smiled. It was forced at first, but then seemed to grow until it was real.

  “I’ll let you two visit while I finish getting ready,” Loretta said. “Zara, hurry and finish your dinner. You’re going to spend the night at Grandma and Granddaddy’s tonight.”

  “On a school night?”

  “Uh-huh. And I’ve told your grandma to let you stay up a half hour later so you can watch that doctor show you like. Since Luc is giving me a special treat tonight, I thought it was only fair you should get one, too.”

  “Yay!” Zara dug into her macaroni with renewed vigor. She was lucky to have such a good relationship with her grandparents, Luc thought. His maternal grandparents had lived in Trenton, New Jersey, and Luc had met them only a couple of times before his grandmother had died and his grandfather had gone into a nursing home, where he’d died a short time later. And of course, he’d never met Celeste until a couple of years ago when he’d gone to work for the Hotel Marchand.

  His mother would have liked grandchildren to dote on. But since he was her only child, it didn’t seem likely she would get any. Maybe he could take Loretta and Zara to Vegas sometime to meet his mother. She would enjoy fussing over Zara.

  But immediately he realized how impossible that was. So long as there was no commitment between himself and Loretta, he would only be setting up more false expectations.

  “Luc, do you know how to fish?” Zara asked.

  “Actually, no.” Despite his affinity for boats, fishing was something he’d never tried. “Do you want to teach me how?”

  “I don’t know how, either. Except for catching crawdads.”

  “Maybe that’s something we can learn together. I have a boat, and the bayou is right outside my back door. Seems like it shouldn’t be that hard.”