Acadian Waltz (10 page)

I examined
John’s happy face. His gray eyes seemed soft and caring. His profile looked
like a marble statue, forever supportive and dependable. The nearness of him,
the warmth of his touch, felt comforting to me. But deep within the recesses of
my body, the acid churned and that nagging pang of doubt began to eat away at
me.

When does it
feel right
? I mused, and then I looked over at my mother’s beaming
countenance. It was the happiest I had seen her in quite some time. Even tears
of joy seemed to be smearing her perfectly applied mascara. Maybe it was just
me. Perhaps I had been on my own for so long that the idea of joining forces
with another needed time to settle in. I figured we would probably have a long
engagement to allow me to get used to the idea of marriage. At least I hoped it
would be a long engagement. With John, things tended to move quickly, according
to his master plan.

*     *     *

As we drove home
later that evening, I questioned John’s announcement of our impending nuptials.

“You could have
said something to me ahead of time,” I told him as we headed away from the
city.

He maneuvered
his BMW M3 through some slower moving cars on the interstate. When he glanced
over to me, the smile he had used on my mother all evening had been replaced by
a perturbed scowl.

“What did you
expect me to say to your family?” He paused as he sped around a puttering
Volvo. “Your uncle was asking what my intentions were while your parents were
standing there. What could I say? Yes, I’m having sex with your daughter and
no, I’m only hanging around until I get bored with her.” He turned back to me.
“I don’t think your uncle would have been too pleased. I was afraid the man was
going to pummel me if I didn’t say the right thing.”

I began to feel
a little flushed. “You want to marry me?”

“Of course I
want to marry you, Nora. I thought we could announce our engagement officially
in June, and then plan a wedding for the late summer. My residency will be
finished by then.” He winked at me. “Hopefully, I’ll have a job lined up by the
time we get married.”

“This summer?” I
noted the close proximity of the red taillights of the cars in front of us.
“But June is only two months away.”

His winning
smile returned. “Yes, that’s good, isn’t it? I don’t believe in long engagements.
We’ll also need to start looking for a new place to live. As a matter of fact,
the other day—I was going to tell you about it—I saw the best house for us. In
the same neighborhood as your parents, but bigger.”

“What’s wrong
with my place?” I argued as he took the turn off the interstate, heading toward
Lake Pontchartrain.

“Your house is
too small for both of us. We’re practically tripping over each other in your
bedroom. My home is even smaller, so I thought we could get a new one with
extra room for kids.”

“Kids?” I
hesitated, holding back the expletives I desperately wanted to shout out.

“I figured we
could have two. Their sex doesn’t matter to me, but I want to wait at least a
year or two after the wedding before we begin trying for a family.”

“Christ, John,
have you already selected their names?”

He gave me a
funny look. “What are you talking about? I thought that would be something we
decide together. But I have to admit, I always wanted a John Edward Jr.
around.”

“This is all a
little sudden.” I gulped back the panic rising up my throat. “What if we make a
mistake? What if it doesn’t work out between us?”

John patted my
thigh. “Of course it will work out. We’re perfect for each other. We are a good
team, you said so yourself. How could we not succeed? Besides, we are older,
not some teenagers going on a whim. I’ve thought this out carefully and planned
our future together. It’s our time.”

“I see,” I
muttered as some newly constructed lakefront homes, built since Hurricane
Katrina, passed by my window. “What about your parents?” I turned back to him.

His face
flickered with anger as we traveled beneath the streetlamps. “Never mind about
them. All they will need is an invitation to the wedding. Your parents are the
important ones. After all, you will be the bride, and that’s who a wedding is
for, isn’t it? For the bride?”

But sitting
there, in John’s immaculate car, I did not feel very much like a bride. I
started having visions of long, white trains and a dozen velvet-sheathed
bridesmaids. Leading the wedding party through the whole sordid affair was my
mother, dripping with diamonds, covered with white lace, and serving curry to
the five hundred guests she would cram into some grand old hall for the
reception.

As we made our
way back to my small cottage by the lake, I began to entertain the idea of a
late summer wedding in New Orleans, complete with torrid heat, high humidity,
hurricanes, and pre-season Saints football. While weighing the benefits of a
Las Vegas wedding, the burning in my stomach took hold, making me reach
reflexively for the car door.

“You all right?”
John felt my cheek with the back of his cool hand. “You look a little flushed.”

“I think the
curry has gotten to me,” I said, placing my hand on my stomach.

“I’m sure it
did.” John nodded as he eased the car into a parking spot right in front of my
house. “Your mother may be many things Nora, but a cook is not one of them.”

Chapter 7

A few days later
I was sitting at my desk going through patient charts when Steve came into my
office carrying some papers in his hands.

He leaned over
my desk and examined my face. “You don’t look so good.”

I took the
papers from him. “I think I have a stomach bug,” I grumbled and tossed the
papers to the side of my desk.

“Everything all
right in the bedroom?” He raised his silver eyebrows to me. “You haven’t said
much about Dr. Blessing lately, and I haven’t seen any more roses from the
other guy. What’s going on?”

I sat back in my
chair and gazed down at my hands, fidgeting nervously on my desk. It was moments
like this that I wished I had acquired a slew of girlfriends on whom I could
deposit all of my problems. For the better part of three years I had confided
my troubles to no one, feeling the burden of confession too much for most
people. But as I sat there and felt Steve’s eyes on me, I figured he was all I
had.

“John is talking
marriage,” I blurted out. “He met my parents last weekend and he announced that
he intended to marry me.”

“Congratulations?”
Steve furrowed his high brow. “You don’t seem like the happy bride, kiddo.” He
had a seat in a chair in front of my desk.

“You noticed. I
don’t feel like one. I think it’s all too fast.”

“Then slow it
down. It is your life after all.”

I stared at him.
“Is it?”

He sat back in
his chair as he studied me for a few seconds. “Do you love John Blessing?” he
finally asked.

I shrugged. “I
told him I loved him.”

Steve slammed
his hand down on the desk. “Nora, you’ve got a problem. You’re not in love with
the doctor. I can see it written all over your face. And if you ask me—”

“Which I
haven’t,” I cut in.

“I think the
fish guy is still swimming around in your head.”

My jaw dropped.
“Jean Marc?” I laughed more out of shock than humor. “The guy is a pompous ass
who thinks he’s better than me. He is condescending, a male chauvinist,
conceited, arrogant and—”

“Those are more
adjectives than you have ever used to describe the dear doctor, Nora.” Then
Steve slowly smiled. “If I were you I wouldn’t hang my fishing pole up quite
yet.”

I waved off his
smug grin. “Steve, you’re being ridiculous.”

His inquisitive
blue eyes locked on mine. “Nora, I may not know a whole hell of a lot about
women, but I do know when someone is trying to fit a round peg in a square
hole. You need to ask yourself if this is what you want.”

I took in a deep
breath and let it out slowly. “John and I are a lot alike. It’s a good match
between us.”

Steve stood from
his chair. “Honey, it’s not about what you have in common, it’s about love.
That’s the only tie I know of that can keep two people together for a lifetime.
Make sure it’s love, Nora. Don’t settle for anything less.” He walked to my
office door.

“How do I know
when it’s love?” 

Steve grinned as
he turned to me. “You won’t have to ask. You’ll know.” He shut the office door
behind him, leaving me to wrestle with my growing apprehensions.

*     *     *

The following
Sunday, I joined my parents for our usual brunch. It was while we were seated
at the mandatory mahogany table that my mother delighted in informing me that
she had already come up with a list of possible reception locations.

“Nora, you and
John are going to have to set a date sooner than later,” Mother told me after I
enlightened her about John’s plans for our engagement. “It takes months to
organize a wedding. Some of the places on my list have to have at least six
months’ notice, especially Gallier Hall. They’re impossible. However, Jenny
Auquin, from the Ladies Auxiliary, knows the manager of the hall and she said
we could get you squeezed in this summer, but they would have to know right
away.” She smiled, seeming very pleased with herself.

“Mother, stop.”
I raised my hand and looked to Lou for support. But he just sat hunched over in
his mahogany chair, staring down at his plate of ham and eggs. “John and I have
just started talking about marriage. We have no date, no plans, nothing.”

“But, darling,”
Mother whined. “It’s Gallier Hall.”

“I really don’t
care.” I pushed my plate of food away. “I will not be rushed into this.”

“Quite right,”
Lou finally spoke up as he forked a large piece of ham into his mouth.

“Don’t encourage
her, Lou,” Mother reprimanded. “If we don’t make the arrangements for her, God
knows what kind of wedding she’ll end up with. Some nightmare complete with
kegs of beer, a barbeque buffet, and an accordion player banging out polka
tunes.”

I stood from my
chair. “What if I wanted to elope?”

“Elope!” Mother
fumed. Her face turned a deep crimson, almost matching her hair. “You wouldn’t
dare elope and humiliate me out of all the best social circles in town.” She
stood from her chair, her brown eyes fixed on me. “No self-respecting Catholic
girl in this town elopes. It’s not done, Nora, and you will not do it to me.”

Lou looked up
from his plate. “Why not? We eloped.”

“That was
different; we were older and it wasn’t our first marriage.” Mother threw her
linen napkin on the table. “This wedding has to be done the right way, or I
will never be able to hold up my head in this town again.” She pointed her
finger at me and shook it, making the collection of gold bracelets on her wrist
jingle. “You will not cheat me out of this, Nora. I will have this wedding or I
will never forgive you.” She turned from the table and stormed out of the
dining room, her high heels clicking on the old oak floor as she went.

Lou raised his
dark eyebrows high over the rim of his black glasses and let out a sigh. “You
know how she is, No. She’ll be impossible unless she gets her way.” He leaned
in closer to me. “It’s just one day. Your mother always wanted a big social
wedding, and despite being married three times, she never got one. Let her have
this one day. After all, you only have one mother and she only has you to live
vicariously through. Just think about it.” He returned his attention to his
pile of scrambled eggs.

I took my chair
and reached for my plate. I watched Lou fill his fork with some overly cooked
eggs and my heart broke for the man. Not only would my life be hell if my
mother did not get her way, but his would not be much better.

“All right, Lou,
I’ll think about it.” I picked up my fork and started to play with the grits on
my plate. “But I will have to talk with John about all of this,” I asserted.

Lou glanced up
at me and smiled, his pale skin contrasted the redness in his eyes. “That would
be good, No. That would be real good.” He reached across the table and patted
my hand. “You going out to see Jack today?”

“Yeah, he’s
working on his boat again and has moved back into his house. I figured I’d go
up and check on him since he’s not at the Gaspard’s anymore.” I put my fork
down and pushed my chair away from the table. 

“Your uncle said
they were real good to him.”

“They were.
Uncle Jack told me Ms. Marie took his blood pressure every day, and Jean Marc
checked on him every night.”

“Well, that’s
good for Jack.” Lou looked down at his plate, deciding what to devour next.
“I’m glad he has friends up there to help, especially with you and Claire being
in the city.”

“I better get
going.” I rose from my chair, wanting to leave Lou to his brunch.

“See you, Lou,”
I added as I waved good-bye.

Lou just
grunted, having just taken a bite of his ham.

*    
*     *

An hour later, I
found Uncle Jack in Merle’s Bar, located next to the Gaspard Fisheries
boatyard. I knew I would find him at the closest bar when I arrived on board
the
Rosalie
and found a new captain had been assigned to the trawler.

Merle’s was
popular with all the local fishermen, especially after a long day in the hot
Louisiana sun. My uncle was seated at the far end of the long wooden bar, next
to a soundless television that flashed sports scores over pictures of U.S.
soldiers in Afghanistan. On the dusky gray walls were assorted pictures of
boats, along with stuffed and mounted fish caught by the owner. The large room
reeked of stale beer, fried food, and bleach used to clean the cement floor.
The place was not crowded, and only a few of the many tables in the dining area
were filled. Merle’s was also a restaurant that served fresh boiled and fried
seafood brought in by the fishermen who frequented the bar.