by Emery, Lynn
“Thanks, girl. Maybe I will. Hey, I appreciate you coming by.” Terri stood and gave Erikka a quick hug.
“No problem. You slow down and—” Erikka lifted her chin as she looked at her.
“Pills, right. Call me when you get a chance.”
Terri chattered about nothing and everything as she walked Erikka to her car. Erikka drove away wondering just what would happen if Terri blew into Loreauville.
***
Erikka went straight to Gabriel’s house.
Monday morning she opened her eyes slowly and looked around his bedroom. Shades of cool blue and green came into focus slowly. Draperies matched a comforter carefully folded on an ottoman nearby. She breathed in the scent of the soft cotton cloth against her cheek. A finger brushed hair from her face. Gabriel, propped on one elbow, gazed at her. He seemed intent on looking into her as though searching for a secret.
“Hey,” he said softly, sinking onto the plump down pillows under their heads.
“Hey.”
Erikka stretched wide and avoided his examination. His stillness after lovemaking unnerved her. She was used to men jumping up to get dressed, loud snoring, or even turning on the television to catch the rest of a game. This wanting to talk was something she had trouble getting used to. He might tell her something about herself she didn’t want to know.
“You whispered something to me as we drifted off to sleep.” Gabriel shifted to get closer to her.
Her heart did a tiny flip. “I apologize,” Erikka said automatically, praying fervently she hadn’t said the wrong damn name. Men didn’t own that particular major in-the- heat-of-the-moment felony.
“For what?” Gabriel brushed a strand of hair across one breast. He stroked both with his long tapered fingers.
“Nothing. So, let’s talk.” Erikka took a deep breath. When he watched the rise and fall of her nipples, she enjoyed distracting him.
“You had this baby voice, all innocent and sultry at the same time. You said ‘Love is wonderful.’ ” Gabriel rubbed his face against her skin. “I agree.”
“Oh.” Erikka let that sink in. Now she had to think hard to remember just what the hell she meant.
“Don’t overwhelm me with sentiment, baby.” Gabriel’s deep chuckle vibrated down to her bones.
Erikka kissed the top of his head and thought fast. “I’m still half-asleep. You’re to blame.”
“Guilty. So, this is good love.” Gabriel gazed up into her eyes.
“Wonderful,” Erikka repeated. Her heart pounded hard enough she was sure his head would bounce on her chest.
Gabriel snuggled as if he couldn’t get close enough. “I’m blown away, too.” The arm across her tummy hugged her tighter.
“Yes, good description.”
She twirled a dark thick tuft of his curls around her forefinger. Scared was the word that really described how she felt. Every time Erikka used or heard that word with a man, trouble followed, big-time. With Vaughn she’d played it cool, and look where it had gotten her. Vaughn had crossed her out of his address book real fast. Now Erikka didn’t know what rule to follow. Should she take a chance on romance or give him the “let’s not get too serious” speech? Too much of her was voting for the hopeless romance option, hopeless because she knew heartbreak would surely follow.
“Well?” Gabriel’s voice slurred. He seemed ready to doze again.
“Well, I am your accountant. I might need to check on whether or not this is proper.” Erikka closed her eyes when his strong fingers massaged her thigh.
“Don’t be silly,” Gabriel said.
“Just kidding.”
Erikka didn’t want fear or the magic of this intimate moment to scramble her brain. This time she needed to make a logical decision. At that moment she could go either way. If she got too scared, Gabriel might feel rejected and pull back. He felt way too good for her to alienate him so soon, definitely not before she sorted herself out. Jumping right into a declaration of love could suck her into another hole. Erikka knew only too well how she could easily get lost in a man.
“You’re taking time to think about us.” Gabriel sat up, bringing a pillow to cushion his back.
“Accountants always calculate the price of any decision. Not a bad idea. So, what’s the verdict?” Gabriel’s full mouth seemed poised to curve into a smile.
“You’re going to have me believing you’re psychic or a voodoo doctor, reading my mind like that,” Erikka teased.
“I’m going to keep you guessing.” Gabriel cradled one of her hands in both his. “We don’t have to merge into the fast lane on this. Okay?”
Erikka tried not to make her sigh of relief too loud. “Okay. It’s just that I’ve been down that highway enough times and crashed. You know?”
“Oh, baby, do I know,” Gabriel said with a grin. Then he grew serious again. “I’m nervous about the ‘L’ word to be honest. But you’re something special that I simply did not expect, Erikka Rochon.”
“Same here. I was looking for something, but I sure didn’t count on you,” Erikka said, without hesitation.
She lay against his body with one leg between his thighs. His passion stirred, and Erikka kissed his chest. As they became wrapped up in each other again, Erikka counted the benefits of taking a chance again. With the perfume of his body filling her senses Erikka put logic aside, at least for another hour or so.
***
Erikka left the television station to meet her cousin for lunch at Adrienne’s Bistro in Lafayette. The Creole restaurant was a local favorite. Monique had suggested Adrienne’s because the menu had low-carb items. Erikka didn’t care about carbs, calories, or anything else. She had enough self-denial to handle without adding any food groups to the mix. Monique chattered on for several minutes. Erikka skillfully directed her to talking about work and professional networking.
“Speaking of making contacts, tell me again about that Black Chamber of Commerce event. The one where you met Ryan Wilson, his brother, and my ex-boyfriend Vaughn.” Erikka swooped down so quickly Monique hardly knew what hit her.
“Well, I, uh. Didn’t I mention seeing Vaughn there?” Monique smoothed down her pink-and-gray-striped blouse, fiddled with getting her purse, and cleared her throat.
“Don’t even try to play me. Spill it,” Erikka said crisply. “Did you tell Vaughn anything about me?”
“What?” Monique’s gaze shifted. “This is some kind of trap. You invite me out for lunch and attack. No ‘Thanks for helping me out, cuz’. Ain’t this a bi—”
“Just answer the question, cuz. Did you talk to Vaughn about me?” Erikka leaned across the table.
“Vaughn wanted to help. When he asked about you I told him you could use a job. He seems to care about you,” Monique said defensively, when Erikka snorted.
“Right. He cared so much that he gave me space to heal while he dated.” Erikka stopped when the waiter brought two chef’s salads. When the teenager left, she pointed at Monique’s nose.
“Damn. Feels like I’m trapped in a Sopranos episode. All for trying to be good to family.” Monique stabbed a cherry tomato with her fork.
“You were trying to get a man. Yeah, I remember how bad you wanted Ryan Wilson’s brother,” Erikka said.
“That scrub. Took me out to dinner and forgot his wallet, twice. Hope you made sure Ryan’s checks wouldn’t bounce.” Monique bit down into the tomato, baring her teeth.
“Damn skippy I did. Ryan is acting like a major media player. His parents are paying the bills. I thought his brother had it together, though.”
Monique’s bottom lip trembled. “I feel like a fool. He’s got money. He just didn’t spend it on me except for a cheap bouquet of daisies. And I fell for it.”
Erikka started to feel sorry for Monique. She looked miserable. “The lovely Wilson brothers. What a pair.”
“I was nothing but a booty call. I figured it out by the third date.” Monique pushed the salad away. She waved to the waiter. “Bring me a doub
le fudge sundae with four scoops and extra whipped cream.”
“Don’t go there, girl. He’s not worth it,” Erikka said, and pressed her lips together. Her cousin’s method was nothing compared to what Erikka had done.
“I earned this binge. Thank you,” Monique said fervently, when the waiter arrived.
He put a glass dish shaped like a pirogue on the table in front of her. “Extra nuts are just fifty cents more.”
“Bring it on.” Monique sighed when he poured more pecans from a small container.
“Now you’ll layer more fat on your hips because of some man. What we won’t do for love.” Erikka shook her head. She was thinking of her own foolish mistakes more than Monique’s gorging.
“You can talk,” Monique said around a mouthful of bananas and whipped cream. She swallowed before continuing. “You’re all snuggly-poo with Gabriel Cormier. Uh-huh, I heard about it.”
“Wait—”
“Just cause you’re happy, don’t be slamming us poor lonely hearts,” Monique complained. Then she shoved another spoonful into her mouth.
“I’ve been to Heartbreak Motel more than a few times. Hell, I’ve gotten thank-you notes from blues singers who used my life for inspiration.”
Monique washed down her sundae with a diet soda. “You win,” she said, with a throaty chuckle.
Erikka waved a hand at her. “I win all right, the booby prize. I’m older than you, so take it from me—”
“Six months, Erikka.” Monique nibbled on a cherry.
“Hush up, youngster. That idiot Wilson lost a good thing. His problem, not yours.” Erikka sat back and folded her arms as though she imparted the wisdom of the ages.
“That’s it? Gee, how can I ever repay you for that gem?” Monique said.
“Glad you asked.” Erikka shoved the bill toward her.
“I stepped right into that one.” Monique grinned as she pulled money from her leather wallet.
“Seriously, though, I hope you’re not going to go up a dress size because of that dude.” Erikka gazed at her. Monique had the generous hips and thighs of all the women in their family. Since neither she nor Erikka had given birth yet, they could still fit into size-eight clothes.
Monique licked a last bit of ice cream from the spoon. “Nah, I’m mostly depressed because a good man is hard to find.” She gave another deep sigh.
“But not totally extinct,” Erikka added, thinking of Gabriel. Now if only Erikka could be sure she knew what to do with one.
“I’ll have to take your word for that. The Rochon women are getting their butts kicked in the romance department.” Monique hitched forward in her chair and put both elbows on the table.
Erikka leaned on the table as well. “My mother for one. But I can’t imagine Aunt JoAnn hasn’t said anything to you about it.” Monique’s mother spread family gossip daily.
“You know my mama, girl.” Monique shook her head. “Poor Aunt Roz. With Uncle Craig moving out and all. Damn.”
“Jaci is really going to be hard hit.” Erikka wondered when her little sister had last been home.
“Yeah. You, too.” Monique gazed at her.
“Takes getting used to. Things haven’t been good between them for a while. But that’s the way it is.”
Erikka tried to shake off the gloom snaking through her. After all, she wasn’t a kid anymore. She should be grown enough to know her parents had their lives, and she had hers. Still, she could not help but feel adrift. This news brought back the eight-year-old who wondered what she’d done to make her daddy mad. Erikka gave herself a mental slap across the face to snap out of it. This wasn’t about her. Roz had to be in real pain, and hiding it, as usual.
“And poor Aunt Darlene. She hasn’t heard from her man lately. Course I’m not sure who he is.” Monique waved at the waiter for a soda refill.
“Hmm.”
Erikka didn’t want to say anything. Monique meant no harm, but she couldn’t keep much from her mother. Aunt JoAnn would send out a news bulletin within an hour if she knew about Kelvin. Erikka had just assumed they were lying low. Now that she thought about it, Darlene had seemed somewhat forlorn lately. Erikka had just chalked it up to the usual “my-man-is-married” blues. That they couldn’t see each other as often was a given. Not wanting to pry, Erikka had avoided the subject. Then Erikka thought of Roz. She had the denial gene from her mother all right.
“Wait a minute, how do you know it’s been that long?” Erikka glanced at Monique who shrugged.
“I was groanin’ about my troubles to her last night. Darlene gave me an ‘Amen’ when I said I’m tired of cuddling up to my pillow. She mentioned something about being a fool waiting around for crumbs.” Monique eyed Erikka. “He’s married, am I right?”
“I’m not speculating,” Erikka said promptly.
“Bull crap. You know. Look, I wouldn’t dare tell my mama anything. Girl, that kinda stuff can get folks killed. Most of these country women have guns.” Monique looked around like she expected a shoot-out any minute.
“Don’t go all drama queen on me.” Erikka chewed a thumbnail. She hoped Kelvin’s grim-looking wife didn’t own a firearm. “If it ain’t one thing, it’s two.”
“Yeah. At this rate if we threw a pity party, we’d need a stadium,” Monique said. She stared at the empty sundae dish with longing.
Erikka pushed it to the side. “No more for you. You’re driving.”
“Save me from myself, girl.” Monique moved the dish to the empty table behind her and out of sight. “So you and Gabriel Cormier are rockin’ steady, huh? Cool.”
Erikka shrugged. “So far so good. We’re moving slow because of the baggage on both sides.”
“Mama heard about y’all. You should be careful with him. A lot of people think he should be in prison for murder. And then they say—”
“I’ve heard it. What do ‘they’ say about me?” Erikka crossed her legs.
Monique laughed. “I stick up for you. I tell ’em it’s not true, you don’t talk to yourself or spit peanuts at passing cars.”
“I appreciate it,” Erikka said, with a grin. Then she thought of Gabriel’s family hearing such stories. Not that it mattered, not much. Not for now. Maybe they’d put off family intros for a while, a long while. Especially considering all the stuff hitting the fan with her relatives.
Monique checked her cell phone for text messages. She dropped it back into her purse. “Guess I’ll get back to work. Money aside, it’s a pain.”
“Hmm. I could use a little of that kinda pain. See you later.” Erikka was in no rush to leave. She’d just as soon enjoy the day.
“When you talk to Aunt Roz remember to leave my name out of it,” Monique reminded her.
“No problem. We never talked, you weren’t even here.” Erikka raised her palm as though taking an oath.
“Excellent. Bye.” Monique went to the cash register and paid for their lunch on her way out.
Erikka watched her leave. Having no reason to rush after eating lunch was nice. She sat debating whether to put in extra time at the Senior Center or wrap up work at the television station. When Erikka called the station and learned Ryan was gone for the day, she decided. Just as she got up, Kelvin walked in with a leggy woman the color of nutmeg. She wore a clingy royal blue dress and strappy three-inch black heels. Erikka sat back down abruptly and shrank against the wall. Kelvin walked close to her, but they did not touch. Still, he seemed to be a happy brother. A waiter took them to a booth across from where Erikka sat. Moving quickly, she went around a pillar and shot through the door.
Wait a minute. She shouldn’t jump to conclusions. After all, the woman could be Kelvin’s sister. Erikka chided herself for starting to think like those small-town minds. Okay, so he hadn’t called Darlene in a while. No reason to assume, she reasoned. She should go in and say hello to them both.
Erikka went back inside the restaurant. Kelvin sat with his back to the door. Only the top of his head was visible behind the wood pane
l that divided the booth from the one next to it. As she walked toward them Erikka got a good look at the woman. Her hair was dyed a dark blond that complemented her golden brown skin. No family resemblance so far. When Goldilocks giggled and called him “Sugar,” Erikka veered left sharply. Outside again five minutes later, Erikka got in her car and headed home.
“If it ain’t one thing, it’s three,” she muttered.
***
The next night Erikka reached overhead into a cabinet filled with spices. Gabriel’s kitchen had a neat, almost sterile quality. She had guessed correctly. He confirmed her suspicion by their fourth date that he cooked just three special dishes. When he grew tired of those he ate out. Still, she had to admit he’d been surprisingly adventurous when it came to spices. She selected from a row of small glass jars.
“Oregano, a bit of pepper,” Erikka said to herself. “Good.”
“Glad you approve,” Gabriel said as he strolled in through the back door.
“You should move them from over the stove. The heat and humidity makes them lose their flavor.” Erikka stirred cayenne pepper into the rice dish.
“Don’t most driven career women hate cooking?” Gabriel sat down on a barstool at the kitchen counter. He fiddled with the knobs until hip-hop Zydeco thumped from the speaker.
“Stereotype. Cooking relaxes me. I can focus on what I’m doing and enjoy the end result. My grandmother taught me everything she knew. Including old recipes from an ancestor. She was a voodoo priestess, at least that’s the family legend.” Erikka moved to the beat. She glanced at Gabriel over her shoulder and smiled.
“Should I be worried?” Gabriel plucked an olive from the large salad bowl nearby and ate it.
“Of course not. Don’t tell me you believe in that stuff.” Erikka checked on the fish grilling on the stove.
“Just asking,” he said, with a laugh. “If I suffer any memory lapses, you better have a good explanation.”
Erikka turned and faced him, still swaying to the music. “I wouldn’t dare put a spell on you.”
