Bayou My Love: A Novel (23 page)

“Did
he say if we could start fixing that room?”

He
shook his head. “Don’t worry. I know some people. When we get the OK to move
ahead, they’ll take care of it.”

The
way he looked at me now, I felt like an idiot for having doubted his
intentions. It made me think I was becoming too cold, like my father. Here was
Jack, devoting all this time and energy to helping me, and my first reaction
had been to think he must have an ulterior motive. Had I really trusted Remy’s
word over his? Tears welled in my eyes again, despite my greatest effort to
hold them back.

“Hey.”
He lifted my hand to his lips. “No more. It’s killing me, seeing you so sad.”

“Angry
tears,” I said, my voice cracking. “I’m not sad. I’m furious. It just comes out
this way.”

His
lips moved against my fingers. “We’ll fix this. It’s going to be fine.”

“I
hope so. Because right now I feel like I hitched a ride on the Titanic.”

He
smiled. “You’ll see.”

Behind
us, a familiar voice growled, “Well, ain’t that sweet.” My whole body
stiffened.

Remy
stood next to the table, his hands on his hips, so close I could see the dirt
on his fingernails.

My
stomach churned. Jack stared at me and gave me the slightest shake of his head.

“Saw
you on TV, champ,” Remy said to him. “Doing the whole city proud, aren’t you?”

Without
raising his eyes, Jack said, “We’re trying to have dinner here, Broussard. Or
didn’t you notice?”

“Well,
where are my manners,” Remy said, his voice deep. “Am I interrupting something
between you and Miss Firecracker here?”

I
kept my eyes steady on Jack’s. They seemed to darken to the color of spruce.

“Really,
darlin’,” Remy said to me. “You didn’t strike me as the desperate type.”

He
pulled a chair from behind him, shoved it up against the table and straddled
it, leaning his elbows over the back. “I got to tell you, sweetheart, you’re
wasting your time with this one. I was hoping he’d be out of the picture by now
so you and I could pick up where we left off.” He winked at me, and I dug my
fingers into the edge of the booth. I wanted to beat his face into the floor.

“Leave
us be,” Jack said, his voice low. “I’m only asking once.”

“Or
what?” Remy said, laughing.

“You’re
wasting your time,” I said. “All these games of yours.”

His
laugh, hollow and deep, raised the hair on my arms.

“We
know what you’ve been doing,” I said. “Don’t think for a minute you’ll get away
with it.”

Jack
kicked me under the table, but I stared straight at Remy.

“Don’t
know what you’re talking about,” he said.

“It’s
only a matter of time until—” I said.

Jack
stepped on my foot and interrupted. “Don’t make a scene here,” he said to Remy,
his voice cool and even. “I like Brenda.” Jack looked at me, willing me not to
say anything else.

Remy
grinned. “I didn’t come to make a scene, Mayronne. I came to say I hope y’all
find that crazy arsonist soon. It’s a shame y’all can’t seem to catch him.”

I
couldn’t stand that smirk any more. I stood and poured my glass of beer right
into his lap.

Remy
jumped up out of the chair. His shirt and pants were soaked. He leaned close to
me, and for a second I thought he’d hit me for sure. But he just grinned and
said, “Is this your way of trying to get my clothes off, sugar? I do love a gal
that likes to play dirty.”

“Get
out of here,” I said, my voice low. “Before I think of something to do with
this empty glass.”

“You
should listen to the lady,” Jack said, standing.

“Hmm,”
Remy said. “You know what they say about gals with hot tempers.” He slid his
finger along my jaw, and I grabbed his hand and twisted it backward as hard as
I could. He struggled for a moment against my grip, clearly surprised. But he
slipped out of my grasp easily when he put his weight into it and squeezed my
wrist so hard it stung. He gave me a look that chilled me down to my toes.

Jack
stepped between us, forcing Remy to drop my arm, and said, “You know, your
brother got all the brains in the family.” He kept his voice quiet, but it
didn’t make a bit of difference. We were the most interesting thing in that
diner, and everybody stared at us like they were soaking up the details so they
could run home and tell all their friends later.

“Don’t
you dare talk about him,” Remy said, his eyes turning cold. The muscles in his
arm tensed as he gripped the back of the chair.

“Hell
must’ve been full,” Jack said, his eyes narrowed. “That’s the only way he’d go
before you.”

In
a blur, Remy grabbed Jack by his collar and spun him into a headlock. The chair
tipped over, and I moved to separate them, but they crashed into the next
table, knocking the ketchup bottles and salt shakers to the floor. A group of
diners stood, backing away from their table as Jack wriggled free of Remy’s
grip. Remy pulled his fist back by his hip and swung, catching Jack right below
the eye. When he swung again, Jack blocked his fist and nailed him in the jaw,
knocking him backwards. Remy stumbled, but caught his balance and lunged again,
his teeth gleaming against his skin. Jack ducked his punch and backed into a
booth. Plates crashed to the hardwood floor, glass splintered. Remy drew his
fist back, but before he could throw another punch, the cook came barreling
down the aisle and grabbed him from behind, locking his arms by his sides.

“Brother,
how many times we got to throw you out of here?” the cook said, a cigarette
dangling from his lip. His face was red, his short hair damp with sweat.

“This
ain’t got nothing to do with you,” Remy growled.

The
cook, his apron splattered with grease, grinned as he cranked Remy’s hand
toward his shoulders until he winced. “That’s where you’re wrong,” he said. “My
diner, my business.” He held Remy easily, one hand drawing the cigarette from
his lips and thumping the ashes into a cup on the table. He glanced at Jack as
Brenda sidled between them.

“You
two want to roll around like a couple of alley cats, you take it outside,” she
said. “Unless you want to spend the night in jail.”

“You
want me to call the sheriff, Brenda?” the cook said. “You just say the word.”

“Sorry,”
Jack said to her, smoothing his shirt over his chest.

“You
ain’t begun to know sorry,” Remy said. “But you will.”

The
cook tightened his grip and pushed Remy toward the front door. “That’s it,” he
grumbled. “I’ve had enough of this shit.”

I
stood behind Jack, one hand gripping the back of the booth, one over my mouth.
All around us, diners stared, their forks frozen in midair. It seemed I’d never
be able to have an uneventful night out anywhere in this town.

“What
is wrong with you, Mayronne?” Brenda said, waggling her finger at him. “You are
better than this. What’s gotten into you?”

“I’m
real sorry, Brenda,” Jack said again. “We’ll go. Send me a bill for the
damage.” He glanced around the room, his head lowered. Part of me wanted to
crawl under one of the tables and hide, but part of me wanted to kiss him right
there in front of everybody.

The
diners stared as the cook shoved Remy out the front door. Jack was still red
from his shirt collar to the roots of his hair.

“I’ll
get you a couple of doggie bags,” Brenda said, her voice still stern. “That boy
deserves a knuckle sandwich every now and then.” Walking past him, she paused,
then said close to his ear, “But next time, don’t do it here.”

Jack
nodded and left a few bills on the table that would have covered dinner three
times over. He placed his hand on my elbow and steered me to the door. The
customers’ eyes followed us as we passed, then quickly turned back to their
plates. The chatter started up again only as we reached the door.

Outside,
it felt twenty degrees cooler. “Way to pretend he’s not there,” I said.

“The
circumstances changed.”

“I
really wanted to deck him while you had him distracted. You think fighting
dirty makes me a bad person?”

Jack
opened the Jeep door for me, giving me a look that said he wasn’t entirely put
off by that idea. “One of us in a brawl is bad enough. That wasn’t exactly the
relaxing dinner I had in mind.”

“So
we’ll have it at home.” I leaned toward him as he climbed in. “How’s your eye?”

“Fine,”
he said.

A
cut over his eyebrow was bleeding. When I touched it, he winced. “It’s starting
to swell.”

“I’ve
had worse.”

He
cocked his head, staring past me into the parking lot. A soft rain was falling.
At the back corner of the lot, Remy leaned against a rusted-out pickup, smoking
a cigarette. When Jack started the car, he turned his head in our direction,
smoke swirling around him. We pulled onto the road, and I watched him in the
side mirror, growing smaller in the distance. The rain fell harder, but still
he leaned against the truck, one foot propped on the tire, like he was waiting
for the rain to wash something away.

“His
first punch is always a left hook,” I said.

Jack
turned to me, his brow furrowed.

“Just
for future reference.” I pulled the box of shrimp from the bag and popped one
in my mouth. “It’s a pattern with him. He’s fairly predictable.”

He
looked at me like I was some puzzle he was missing a few pieces for, and his lips
tightened in a thin smile. “Don’t eat all those without me,” he said, nodding
toward the bag. “We can’t exactly show our faces in there anytime soon.”

“Oh
please. Not one of them would have complained if you’d knocked him out cold.”

He
raised an eyebrow.

“These,
by the way, are fabulous,” I said. “Might be worth a brawl.”

“This
isn’t a joke, Enza. Remy’s not a guy to take lightly.”

“Don’t
you think I know that? He nearly burned the house down with me in it.”

“You
shouldn’t have accused him,” he said, his voice low. “The last thing we need is
for him to get desperate.”

“Well
if he knows we’re on to him, maybe he’ll get scared and back off.”

“Guys
like him don’t get scared.” He said this like there was no room for argument.

We
rode in silence. At last he said, “I don’t want you going out by yourself any
more. Not until this is settled.”

I
laughed. “What are you, my mother now? Come on.”

“I’m
serious,” he said. “If he’s coming after you, it’s to get back at me. And
there’s nothing he wouldn’t do to make me suffer. If he thinks you’re important
to me, then that puts you in danger.”

I
opened my mouth to speak, but the stern look on Jack’s face made me stop. He
wasn’t just being protective—he was worried. I shivered at the thought of just
how far Remy might go to hurt one of us. Rage was nothing to be taken lightly.

Then
I wondered exactly how important I was to Jack. He meant more to me than I was
ready to admit.
One thing at a time
, I kept telling myself. Finish the
house before resolving whatever this was between Jack and me. I’d been foolish
to think I could have a simple fling with him. The feelings I had for him were
growing stronger by the day, but I had to tamp them down long enough to finish
the job I came here to do. I needed to separate these two forces that were
vying for my attention or else they’d rip me apart. And if that happened, I’d
likely lose them both.

~~~~

We
went back to Buck and Josie’s to spend the night. The two of them had gone over
to their friends’ house for poker night—at first they’d threatened to cancel,
but we insisted they go. I didn’t want anyone else being put out. Now I was
glad they weren’t home to see Jack come in with his bruised face.

After
we ate, I poured myself a bourbon and curled up on the couch while Jack took a
shower. I closed my eyes, letting the hum of the katydids lull me into a
stupor. A giant moth beat its wings against the screen behind me, fighting to
get to the lamp light.

At
last Jack came out of the bathroom, his hair wet. He was wearing a clean plaid
shirt and a pair of jeans with a hole in the knee. He poured himself a drink
and sat next to me on the sofa.

“You
should let me take care of those cuts,” I said.

“Ah,
it’s nothing,” he said, touching his eyebrow. Remy had landed a couple of good
punches before the cook had pulled him outside, still grappling and swearing.
Jack had come out with a bruise on his cheek and cuts on his chin and eyebrow.

I
went into the bathroom and dug in the medicine cabinet until I found the barest
of first-aid essentials. Jack waved me away when I tilted his chin up and
dabbed some alcohol on his eyebrow.

“A
couple of these are deep,” I said, looking at them under the lamp light.