Kiss Them Goodbye (23 page)

Vivian felt too overwhelmed to speak.

“Yeah,” Wazoo said, “we got it. Ain’t no way that Susan Hurst and her man get their hands on your place. She bad, that one. I’m settin’ up the biggest fete you ever saw. Whole town’s ready to celebrate—and buy stuff. All proceeds to Rosebank.”

Vivian blinked and Reb reached across the table for
her hand. “Don’t be cross,” she said. “There’s no malice there.”

“I don’t mean no harm,” Wazoo said in something close to a bashful tone. “I hear Mrs. Hurst tellin’ about that to Miz Charlotte. And I didn’t say it while that Olympia was here.”

There would be no changing the habits of a lifetime. Wazoo would keep right on reporting their business, but perhaps it didn’t matter. All of these people were used to discussing their lives. “It’s okay,” Vivian told Wazoo. “It’s not important. But, Bill, I don’t know what to say to you. I’ve never been at this end of so much generosity. We can’t allow you to do it, any of you. You’ve all got your own lives to live.”

Looking at his watch, Joe Gable stood. “I’ve got a client in a few minutes,” he said. “Listen to me, Vivian, and keep an open mind. You’ve been in New Orleans during a hurricane. You know how folks help each other and stick together. They do the same thing for all kinds of reasons every day. Take that way of thinkin’ and multiply it a few times. That’s Toussaint people, and the people in a lot of towns like ours.” He glanced at Ellie and back to Vivian. “You’ll hurt feelings if you refuse our help. And you’ll wish you hadn’t because you
need
that help. But you won’t refuse, will you?”

The counselor knew how to back a woman into a corner. “I guess not, but I don’t want anyone having a hard time keeping up with their own issues just because of us.”

Bill said, “Joe’s good at putting things into words. Things will start happening right away.” He got up and excused himself to go to the guest house behind the shop.

Joe also left. Then Vivian caught sight of the dark Land Rover Marc Girard drove. It crawled to a stop in front of Hungry Eyes and Marc leaned across the passenger seat to look into the shop. Almost at once he ap
peared inside the door, which didn’t have time to close before Spike walked in.

Spike tipped the brim of his hat to her and took it off. He didn’t smile but the way he looked at her was intimate enough to braid her nerves.

“Uh-oh,” Ellie said. “You’re busted again, Dr. Reb.”

Smiling, Reb held her hand out to her husband. “You caught me. I didn’t think you’d be back from New Orleans so soon.”

“I made sure I was,” Marc said, and to Vivian, “I hope they explained how much we’re lookin’ forward to workin’ on that great old house of yours. I’m going to need to spend some time there in the next couple of days, if that can be managed.”

“Of course.” She could barely swallow. “Come whenever you like, as long as you’re sure you—”

“I’m very sure,” Marc said and looked it.

The only presence Vivian could really feel was Spike’s and he hadn’t said a word since he arrived. He stood there, fiddling with the brim of his hat and looking fixedly at her. She loved his “at ease” stance, and everything else about him.

“Off we go, Reb,” Marc said, keeping her hand in his while he hauled Gaston up and draped him over one shoulder. The dog literally put his nose in the air. If he’d purred, Vivian wouldn’t have been surprised.

Reb stood up and Marc gave her a kiss that didn’t qualify as a dutiful peck. Vivian knew her own smile was probably silly and didn’t care.

“You were supposed to go straight home after two hours,” Marc told Reb. “The heat’s too much for you.”

“I guess I didn’t want to go if you weren’t there,” Reb told him softly.

Marc kissed her again, then, completely naturally, smoothed a hand over her belly, feeling, concentrating, then grinning when he must have felt a kick.

The slightest movement caught Vivian’s attention. Spike watched the Girards as closely as she did. He watched with narrowed eyes and his mouth pressed shut. She saw him swallow hard and would have taken a bet that he was thinking of when Wendy was in the womb, and also wishing he had what Marc and Reb had.

The couple, with Gaston flopped over Marc’s shoulder, said their goodbyes and left.

Vivian and Spike were virtually alone and silently watching each other. Ellie and Wazoo, talking loudly, had left the café to go to the back of the bookshop.

“They’re leaving us alone,” Spike said, and shrugged.

“You think so?” She tried not to look at his mouth, but lost the battle. “Thank you for being so supportive last night. I’ve got to thank Cyrus, too.”

“Don’t thank me,” he said and reached for her arm. He pulled her between two book stacks. “I’m the lucky one. I’m feastin’ on last night…before we went swimmin’. You surely look good enough to eat when you don’t wear anything.”

She wrinkled up her face at him and smoothed a hand over the front of his shirt. His heart beat hard and he felt wonderfully warm. “That’s what I wanted to say to you,” she told him. “You beat me to it.”

“Thank you, ma’am. Anytime you want—”

Vivian put a finger on his mouth. “Keep your voice down or Wazoo will be spreadin’ what you say all over. Spike, you wouldn’t believe how many people are offering to help with some work at Rosebank.”

“I heard.” He looked pleased. “I’m in, too. I’d have to be or Homer would have something to say about it.”

“We’d better be careful, Spike. People are talking about us.”

“Let ’em talk. Unless you don’t like the idea.”

“I do like the idea, as long as you do. I thought you’d
want everyone to think we were professional acquaintances.”

He shook his head and put an arm around her. “This is hard,” he said very quietly. “I came to tell you something. Then I’ve got to get going.”

Her stomach flipped and she looked up into his face.

“I’m falling in love with you.”

He said it, dropped his arm from her shoulders and strode out.

“Poof,” she muttered. “Just like that. Here and gone.” But she knew shock, of the best kind, made her babble.
I’m falling in love with you.
And he didn’t even give her a chance to react.

“I gotta get back to work,” Wazoo announced from somewhere behind Vivian. “Miz Charlotte wants me to look over all the sheets and towels and stuff and see if any of ’em are good enough. She says that’ll take all afternoon but I work fast when I’m happy.”

When she saw Vivian she said, “You comin’, Miz Vivian?”

“Don’t wait for me. Please tell my mother I won’t be long.”

Wazoo hummed as she left and, at last, Vivian and Ellie stood alone.

“I think you’re liking it here,” Ellie said. “I do, too. I never felt as at home anywhere else.”

“I’ve been coming here for visits since I was a kid but I never expected to live here. I thought I’d always be in New Orleans.”

“You still have family there?” Ellie asked.

“No. It’s strange, but there isn’t anyone. My dad died there last year and we had money troubles afterward. Or my mama did and it was the right time for me to be with her till she’s on her feet.”

“So you’ll leave once the hotel is running?”

The question startled Vivian. She hadn’t really thought about it. “I don’t know.”
I’m falling in love with you.

“Till I found Toussaint, I used to think I’d never settle down anywhere. This is a long way from—just a long way, I guess.” Ellie laughed, but only with her mouth.

“A long way from where?” Vivian asked.

“From where I grew up. Look, Vivian, I owe you an apology and that’s too weak for what’s happened. Guy Patin’s books. That’s why you came, isn’t it?”

“Partly. I’d just like to look. I think it will make me feel closer to him. Uncle Guy loved his books. He was interested in so many things.”

“They’re sold.”

“Oh.” Disappointment hit hard enough to make her realize how much she’d been counting on seeing the books. “All of them?”

“Every one.” Ellie slipped into a chair at one of the tables and put her face down on her hands. “I should have come to you and explained. When we talked outside Jilly’s place I knew it should be right then. I was chicken because I couldn’t figure out what I was going to say.”

“It’s not your fault,” Vivian told her, awkwardly resting a hand on her shoulder. “You’re in business to sell books, not to store them.”

“You don’t understand,” Ellie said, her voice muffled. “One book wasn’t for sale. It was in a silk bag and I was supposed to wait till you came looking for his books, then give it to you for Guy. He said you’d come for sure. I don’t know why he was so sure.”

“Neither do I,” Vivian said.

Ellie raised her head. “I can’t give it to you because it’s gone. I noticed more than a month ago. Someone must have taken it.”

C
yrus stood at the window in his office and watched Madge walk across the grass from where she’d parked her car on Bonanza Alley. It was almost three in the afternoon and he’d been looking out for her since morning mass was over and he’d finally dealt with all issues on the front burner.

He left his office and went out front to meet her. “Are you okay?” he asked.

She hesitated, shaded her eyes with a hand to look at him. “Just wonderful,” she said and walked around him and into the rectory.

Cyrus frowned and shrugged.
Just wonderful
meant there was something really wrong, or it did when she said it that way. He didn’t pretend to understand.

He entered his office behind her. “Another scorcher,” he said.

“This is Toussaint, Louisiana, and it’s September. Were you expecting snow today?”

“Ouch.”

She went through the papers in his out box and didn’t respond.

“Did you get any of my messages today?” he asked.

“All of them, probably.”

He picked up a letter she dropped and handed it to her. “Are you feeling yourself? I guess you didn’t feel so good this morning. Maybe you aren’t ready to have come back yet.”

“I’m as ready as I’m going to be.” She wore a red shoulder bag and the strap slipped from her shoulder, landing solidly at her elbow. Madge flinched as if it had hurt. She tightened her mouth and continued looking at one sheet of paper after another.

Her black curly hair glistened. When she smiled, her eyes always shone and just looking at her warmed him. Madge wasn’t smiling now but she looked nice in a sleeveless red blouse and dark blue slacks. The rectory never felt quite right without her there and efficiently going about her work.

They’d had a few disagreements in the years they’d worked together but Madge had put her concerns right out there. In the past she hadn’t used silence to make a point.

Women needed to be complimented. His sister Celina had told him so when he’d had a girlfriend in high school. “You look quite nice today, Madge,” he said, feeling more uncomfortable than he knew he should.

She glanced at him and instead of smiling because she was pleased, she blinked repeatedly and bowed her head again. Darn it all, anyway, why
did
they need to be told the obvious and why was it so easy to offend them? “Did I say something wrong?” he asked. Enlightenment, that’s all he wanted.

Madge shook her head but he heard her mumble, ”
quite nice.
”

He just didn’t get it. “I called after mass,” he said.

“Yes, your first call was when you’d got back here and wanted to let me know you’d noticed I wasn’t where you expected me to be. Then you called when I was actually late for work.”

She went behind the desk and sat in his worn swivel chair before pulling today’s mail in front of her.

She was angry, with him, but he couldn’t imagine why.

“I called again after that, Madge.”

“Several times,” she said. “I heard you.”

“You were screening calls? Who are you trying to avoid? Has someone been annoying you?” She thought she could take care of herself no matter what happened. He wanted her to be secure, not foolhardy. “I’ll call Spike and ask him the best drill to get rid of this person. You should have told me before.”

“Why?”

This time he got her full, dark-eyed attention. He couldn’t be sure if she was angry or sad.

“Because you’re smart, pretty, young, and you live alone. You aren’t a match for anyone bigger and stronger.”

“Garbage!”

The wall she’d put up between them began to annoy him. “I want you to be sensible. Tell me about this, please.”

“I’ll work late this evening and we’ll count this morning as half a vacation day.”

“
No.
You work too hard all the time. I won’t allow you to use vacation time when you need a break. You earn that.”

She got up slowly, hitched her bag back onto her shoulder and gathered papers and mail against her chest. “Do you know how much vacation I’ve taken this year?”

Cyrus thought about it. “No. You take care of those things.”

“Of course I do. And of course you don’t know.”

Okay, this baiting made him mad but she wouldn’t do it if she weren’t unhappy about something, something she considered his fault. One of the things he couldn’t bear and wouldn’t allow was for Madge to be upset.

He breathed deep, calmed his mind and said, “What’s wrong, Madge? I can’t do anything about it if you won’t tell me.”

She looked at him, stared him in the eye. Despite the tight way she held her mouth, he saw the faintest tremor.

He had no idea what to say.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” she said.

“I’m trying to think what to say next. How much vacation have you taken so far? I think it’s time I gave you more.”

“I haven’t used any. Why would I? This is where the people I know hang out—around the church and rectory and in Toussaint. As you pointed out, I live alone. I come and go alone. Why would I want a vacation alone, too?”

“That’s…Madge, it won’t do. There’s a really active singles group in the parish, but you know that. Why not—”

“Forgive me,” she said, breaking eye contact. “I sounded petulant and selfish. We all have bad days. I’d better get on with this or I won’t finish all this stuff before tomorrow’s rolls in.”

“Who’s been annoying you on the phone?”

The door was open a couple of inches and Cyrus heard Spike’s voice in the passage from the kitchens. Lil Dupre was talking to him. “People can’t feel safe with a murderer runnin’ around. Know what I think? Those Patins brought trouble with them. There’s things they’re not tellin’ you so you won’t look at them too hard.”

“The crime didn’t take place in this jurisdiction.” Spike sounded less than his usual reasonable self. “That means the investigation isn’t my job. But I don’t think you’ve got a thing to worry about.”

“You ain’t found Gil. Now what’s that about? Lettin’ a man disappear and behavin’ as if it’s no big deal.”

“The
Iberia
authorities are working on that. Working seriously. If you want more answers, I’ll have to direct you to them.”

“You want to think hard before you get into it with that Vivian. Oh, she’s nice enough but she’s a foreigner and she’s been upsettin’ things ever since she showed up here.”

“Lil,” Spike said, “Vivian Patin is a very good woman and she’s my friend.”

Lil gave a loud “Hmph,” and said, “You want to take notice of what people are sayin’. Word has it you’re more than friends. When you test the taffy it sticks to your spoon, boy. Never put your spoon in till you’re sure you’ll want to keep tastin’ the same flavor.”

“You sure that’s what you wanted to say?” Spike asked. “That’s one ugly picture you’re paintin’.”

“Poor Spike,” Madge murmured, wincing. “He’s comin’ to see you so I’ll get out of your hair.”

She switched the phones through to the room next door.

“I’ve asked you the same question several times,” Cyrus said in a low voice. “Could you give me an answer, please?”

“Are Spike and Vivian safe?” Madge asked.

“You just heard Spike talkin’.” A shaft of cold traveled up Cyrus’s spine until the hair on his neck prickled. Madge, sweet, kind Madge, couldn’t explain exactly what she was suffering over, but she was suffering and it was something to do with him. What if he couldn’t put it right? “Of course they’re safe.”

Madge gave him that look again. ”Of course?”

“You’d know if they weren’t, Madge.”

“I’d have known last night if you’d kept your word and called. It was a long night, by the way. I didn’t want to call and be a nuisance, but you went off with nothing but a flask of brandy and
you said you’d contact me to keep me up to date.
For all I knew all three of you were lying dead somewhere.”

“Knock, knock,” Spike said, pushing the door open wider. “You got time to give a man some advice, Father?”

He stopped where he was, neither in nor out of Cyrus’s office. The priest faced his assistant with a stunned expression on his face. Madge shook her head once, sharply, and turned the corners of her mouth down.

“I can come back,” Spike said. “Looks like you two are real busy.”

“Not at all,” Madge said and walked past him. “We’ve covered everything.”

A few seconds and the sitting room door closed quietly.

There was no appropriate comment to be made. “I was serious when I offered to come back later.”

“It’s not necessary. Spike, I told Madge I’d keep her up to speed with what went on after I left to find you and Vivian. Then I forgot.”

“Uh-huh,” was the best Spike could manage. Cyrus and Madge would be confused to hear it, but they reminded him of a married couple with the standard communication problems. Her feelings were hurt and she’d convinced herself he didn’t care enough to keep her in the forefront of his mind. He’d been broadsided and couldn’t understand why she was making a fuss.

“Look,” Spike said. “I’m going to take off.”

“No, you’re not. Perch somewhere.” Cyrus’s atten
tion switched to a swarm of ruby-throated hummingbirds dive-bombing a feeder outside the window. “Do you understand women, ’cause I need help.”

“Um—no man understands women. Some think they do but they’re kidding themselves.” He thought about that for a second. “Maybe I do understand them a bit better than some, now I think on it. Could be they want us to think they’re more mysterious than they really are.”

“They’re a mystery to me.” Cyrus sounded miserable.

“No, they aren’t. I’m sure Madge didn’t mean to, but she did the woman thing to you. You slipped up just once and she’s putting a guilt trip on you. They never get it through their heads, women that is, that men have heavy stuff on their minds and can’t always be wondering what the women in their lives want them to think about—or do. It’s best not to react when they get upset, ’specially if they cry. They like to cry because they know, even before they’re born, that the sight of a woman crying confuses the hell out of us. Sorry, Cyrus. Confuses the heck out of us.”

“I said I’d call and let her know when all three of us were safe and on our way back. I should have done that.”

“Yeah,” Spike said. “Maybe you should have. They make a big deal out of things like that.” They did if they felt possessive or responsible for a man.

“So I should do something to get me out of this jam?”

Spike felt sorry for him. “Good idea. Look, give her time to cool down, then go in there and apologize. And when you go out, buy her some flowers for her desk. She’d get a kick out of that. Do it to keep the peace. Women are real strange, Cyrus. I figure what they really want is to believe all a man thinks about is them. All the time. It’s not selfish, it’s just that they’re not as sure of themselves as we are.” He didn’t like the strange look Cyrus gave him.

“Sometimes they’ll say they kinda want this or that. Not that they absolutely must have it, just they kinda want it.” He waggled his right hand to demonstrate that he meant women could be wishy-washy. “But if you don’t read what they’ve really got in their minds, watch out. You’re supposed to do that. Read their minds. And if you don’t show up with the goods, they’re gonna be convinced you don’t love ’em. They are so complicated that way.”

“I didn’t realize you were such an expert,” Cyrus said.

“Now I’ve figured out the mystery thing, there isn’t so much to know. All their problems come from thinking we’re just the same as them, that we think the way they do, and remember the smallest mistake we’ve made forever—the way they do.”

Cyrus loosened his clerical collar and pulled it off.

“I came to see if you had some bright ideas on how to handle a woman,” Spike said, “but I guess we’re in the same boat. We don’t really know, or not enough.”

He closed his mouth and looked at Cyrus, wishing he’d had a brain transplant before coming here. They weren’t in the same boat. They weren’t even on the same ocean.

Cyrus smiled slightly. “Didn’t you just tell me you’re an expert on women?”

“Yeah, but Vivian’s different.”

“Ah.”

“That was a dumb thing I said to you about the two of us being in the same boat,” Spike said. “Our problems are different. Couldn’t be more different. You just want peace in the valley with your assistant. I want to know what you think about a marriage between Vivian and me. Could it work? Should I drop the whole thing and back off? Did I do something asinine when I told her I was falling in love with her? That’s what I’ve done.”

“I can’t make those decisions for you,” Cyrus said.
“Remember, I’m different from you. Are you falling in love with her?”

Damn, damn, damn.

“Are you?”

“I’ve already fallen, only I didn’t tell her that exactly. I’ve been stuck on her since I saw her in town with Guy Patin the year before he died. I tried not to let it happen but each time we met it got worse…better, I guess.”

Cyrus went to a plastic-covered, freestanding wardrobe and unzipped the front to take out a short-sleeved green shirt. “I’d have thought you’d have settled this before getting to the other.” He exchanged his black garb for the shirt and a pair of jeans. “Does she love you?”

The man had toned muscles. He was a big, good-looking son of a gun, and without the priest threads he
did
seem as human as Spike felt.

“I think she might,” he said.
Before the other
? Cyrus had figured out they made love last night.

“Under the circumstances, this is all good. The two of you need to make sure you share some of the same goals, but don’t drag it out too long.”

He fastened his belt and said, “Excuse me,” chuckling a little. “Should have mentioned I was goin’ to change. I think I’ll make some home visits.”

Dismissed, Spike thought. Maybe he put too much pressure on the friendship. After all, he wasn’t a churchgoing man and he probably ought to be if he wanted advice from Cyrus. “It’s a good day for that,” he said. “I’ll see you around.”

The intercom buzzed.

Cyrus held up a hand, indicated he wanted Spike to wait and pressed a button on the intercom. “Hey, Madge.”