A Billion Reasons Why (11 page)

“Maybe he did.” Luc thought of the crooked posture of Mr. McKenna that fateful day and how sidetracked the old man appeared after giving up his last family valuable. He wished he understood why Paddy had left the ring with him. And why on that fateful day? If only he’d gone with him and made sure that he’d gotten home. Katie’s life would have been different.

The man’s Irish pride wouldn’t allow him to run the business after Luc purchased the store. Luc learned a lifelong lesson from that; never thumb your nose at opportunity, and don’t ever let pride blind you to the right course of action. His riches had brought him nothing that Mr. McKenna didn’t have in his small vegetable shop. Money brought respect from all the wrong people.

“Katie, you’ve had enough. Let’s go. Do you want to go and find your mother? No doubt she’s getting her hair done in one of those fancy new salons on Magazine Street.”

“I can wait.” Katie started walking toward the house again, and he noticed how easily she maneuvered the uneven, cracked sidewalk in her heels. As she swayed rhythmically in front of him, he marveled at what a dancer’s body she still possessed. As if she was born to swing and move with the grace of a wildcat. He remembered the first time he ever saw her, on the stage at the Barrelhouse. She seemed to have been transported from the forties in a heavenly, redheaded Betty Grable package.

Suddenly Katie turned on her heel in front of him. “Do you think her husband is a boy toy?”

“Do I what?”

“My mother’s husband. He works, so he’s got to be young enough to work, right? Do you think he’s young enough that it’s scandalous?”

“I think you would have heard by now if he was. What’s he look like in the Christmas card?”

Katie shrugged. “My mom doesn’t send them anymore. At least not to me. She said she didn’t want me to have any preconceived ideas.”

“Sounds like ‘boy toy’ is a preconceived idea. She should know her daughter better. The truth is better than your imagination.”

“They got married in Vegas, and she sent a picture then. He just looked like a working stiff, tanned, leathery skin. I never thought it was a possibility, so I didn’t look too closely.” She started walking again. Then she turned and smiled. “I did it, Luc. I saw where my dad died.”

“You did. I’m proud of you.” He paused on the street and felt in his pocket for the velvet box. “Katie, before we get back to your mother’s house. About your father. That day.”

He wanted to tell her that her father had looked after her, that he’d taken care of things, but he stopped mid-thought. He didn’t want her to think Mr. McKenna had given him the ring so that he might end his life. That wasn’t the case. Luc knew it wasn’t, and yet he’d kept the ring a secret rather than let the insurance company think they had evidence concerning Mr. McKenna’s demise.

He only had five days to tell Katie the truth, or as much of it as she could digest, but his mouth wouldn’t relinquish the words. Naturally, he had his own selfish reasons for wanting to hold on to the ring. Maybe he’d been selfish all along to keep it, to avoid the love he felt for her rather than hurt her with facts her father had kept from her. He felt torn, ripped up inside, and time was closing in. Poindexter loomed with his offer, while his own inaction sent Katie into the arms of another man.

“Luc, what is it?”

“Nothing. I’m glad we came here. It’s done, right?”

“Next up, fear of commitment,” she said.

“Katie, I need to tell you something—”

Katie’s cell phone rang, and her body tightened again. She pulled away and left him in that way she did—where she went away, though her body never moved. She fumbled through her floppy purse until she pulled out the phone and cut off the persistent rendition of “In the Mood.”

“It’s two already?” she asked before answering. “Hello . . . Yes, we’re here at my mom’s house, but she’s not here . . . No, no problems with the flight.” She paused. “No, I haven’t gotten the ring yet, but I haven’t seen my mother either . . . Yeah, he’s right here. You want to talk to him?”

Katie handed him the phone, which he could hardly refuse without looking like a wuss.

“Hello?” He couldn’t imagine what Poindexter had to say to him.

“Yes, this is Dexter Hastings speaking.”

“I figured. What can I do for you? You need someone to kiss her good night for you?”

“Funny. Listen, I know Katie had to go home to get that ring, but I would appreciate it if you didn’t let her spend too much time around her mother. I don’t think the woman is a good influence on her.”

Luc turned away from Katie. “It’s her mother,” he said quietly. “Katie survived childhood, I think she’ll make it through the next few days.”

“Be that as it may, Katie and I have gone through a proper, biblical premarital class, which spoke of leaving one’s family to cleave to your new family. I see no reason why she should start up a new relationship with her mother now that all that water is under the bridge. So . . . do I have your word?”

“My word for what?”

“That you’ll keep Katie from her mother’s undue influence?”

“Dexter, Katie’s a grown woman. She does what she wants.” Luc looked right at Katie when he said the words. “Have you met our little Katie?”

“Katie is going to be my wife, and I would like her to be free of this baggage when she comes to marriage. That’s hardly too much to ask from a longtime friend such as yourself.”

“I think it is, actually. Chin up, Dex. Things are never so bad they can’t get worse.”

“Shakespeare?”

“Bogart.” He snapped the phone shut and handed it back to Katie. “What is wrong with that guy?”

“Did you hang up on him?”

“Shakespeare? Give me a break. Katie, you can’t marry that guy. He thinks dealing with your mother is a violation of your marriage contract. I can’t wait for him to meet her and see who is actually in charge here. There’s something not right about him.”

“Well, that’s the pot calling the kettle a certain color.” Her phone rang again, and she walked ahead of him and answered it. She kept staring back at him as she spoke.

How could his beloved Katie, whose heart beat wildly on her sleeve, give up so much to enter into a marriage void of real love? And it was void, like Dexter himself. Luc’s own motives suddenly felt very selfish. As if Katie was a pump that needed to be primed. His treatment of her had affected her in ways he couldn’t possibly imagine, and he got to watch the whole nightmare play out in front of him. Not until now, when he witnessed what she was willing to give up for marriage and a family of her own, did he understand the repercussions of what he’d done.

“Don’t marry him!” he shouted ahead to her. “You want to get married, we’ll get married, but you can’t offer up your hand for that. Are you kidding me?”

She shushed him with a wave of her hand and finally said good-bye and closed her phone. “As irresistible as that heartwarming gesture was, I think I’m going to stick with my fiancé.” She laughed. “I’m not desperate to get married.” She forced his eyes to hers. “I’m not settling, Luc. I’m marrying Dexter because he wants the same things I do. Because Dexter would never let me make a fool of myself in front of his family. Or reject me in front of all of our acquaintances. Maybe he’s not all moonlight and roses, but maybe I had enough of that. Maybe I learned that pretty words amount to a lot of nothing in the long run.”

His jaw twitched. “I was a kid, Katie. A jerk, all right? Are you ever going to forgive me?”

He stood on the cracked sidewalk and watched her gentle, feminine stride as the distance between them increased. He’d let eight years pass without telling her the truth. Only an idiot would have allowed a girl like Katie, with her perfect reddish-blond hair and absorbing green eyes that saw into one’s soul, to languish for eight years. Whether it was love of money or just an avoidance of reality by staying busy, he’d raised his own grave. Was it any wonder she stood ready with the rake to push his bones to the back of the vault?

“I forgive you, Luc.” Her smiling eyes spoke the words, so that he felt them. “I forgave you a long time ago. Is that what you wanted to talk with me about?”

He stood, transfixed by her eyes, filled with warmth and a connection he’d never known before. He touched her face and let his hand trail her cheek. “You can’t marry Dexter.”

“Luc, there are a billion reasons why I’m going to do just that.”

Chapter 8

I
T’S
B
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ONG

Katie felt Luc’s presence behind her; like a sixth sense, her body registered his closeness. She wished to high heaven that would stop. It was unnerving. Maybe it was only their shared love of the forties time frame that bound them together. After this week, she’d leave that in her past too. And if that didn’t work, she’d trample his fedora under her stiletto. This time she’d give the photographer her full name, spelling included.

The hanging moss draped from the eerie, life-filled oaks that might have told stories for centuries. She slowed down, savoring her walk past the galleries with their porch swings behind wrought iron gates, breathing deeply the moist air with its intoxicating scent of magnolias. Each step reminded her what made the city of New Orleans greener, richer, and deeper than any destination she’d hope to travel to. The energy of the place filled her with warmth and soothing memories of good food, laughter around the table, and—love. She felt enveloped by the atmosphere and the emotion of being wrapped up in someone’s arms.

“It’s like the city has a pulse, isn’t it?” Luc asked, as if reading her mind.

“A steady one,” she agreed.

“With the occasional palpitation.” He swept his gaze to the ground and back to her. “Katie—”

“You know what I love about my job. What do you love about hawking vitamins?”

He cocked a brow. “That’s what you think I do?” He strode in front of her. She quickened her step and followed.

“Vitamins, herbs, green algae drinks that no human with taste buds can swallow, homemade soups that taste like someone softened the cat food with vegetable broth. Oh, and baked goods minus the gluten and any sense of moisture. Do I have everything now?”

He looked behind him. “I see the real Katie has returned. Obviously, overcoming the St. Charles’ streetcar caused a spark. My soup is good. Have you ever tried it?” He pointed to a fountain filled with green water as they passed a house. “It may look like that, but it tastes fantastic.”

She laughed. “Luc, I love your stores, and everything is delicious. But I’m a teacher and Eileen’s a yoga instructor. She makes everything herself. Haven’t you ever heard you’re supposed to shop the outside of a market for the freshest, cheapest ingredients?”

“I’ve heard it. Done everything I can to overcome that advice, including requiring customers to take a more roundabout tour of the store, not dash in and out of aisles.”

“I was just testing to see if I could still get to you. It appears I can.”

“Congratulations.”

“Least I could do. I like to keep that ego of yours in check, especially after making my tabloid debut. Maybe I’ll get my own reality show now. Mam would be so proud.” As they passed the houses in her mam’s neighborhood, it dawned on her how little had changed inside of her. She could take out a stick right now and run it along the fence with a clacking sound, and listen to Luc’s ideas and dreams as though she was nineteen again and her whole life was in front of her.

Mam’s house came into view, and they both halted. “Before your mam sees us . . . have you told Dexter? About us, I mean?”

“What choice did I have, Luc? I can’t marry a man without his knowing about my past. It wouldn’t be honest— especially since half of New Orleans knows and he’d find out eventually.”

“I’m sorry, Katie. You meant more to me than that. What happened was my fault, and I take—”

“Save it. It doesn’t matter now. We were weak, and I guess we both paid the price.”

“I don’t want to pay the price for the rest of my life, Katie. You’re the only woman I ever lov—”

She put her fingertips over his mouth. “Don’t say it. Don’t ever say it to me again. If you can’t say it in front of Dexter, don’t say it to me.”

Her phone rang again, Etta James resonating on the street. Eileen.

Luc threw his hands in the air. “Doesn’t that guy have a job?”

Katie walked away from him for privacy. “Hello.”

“Katie, how are things going? What was the plane like?”

“Good. Good. Jolly ride here. Yes, Luc is right here.”

“Call me the minute you ditch him, okay?”

“We’re in the Garden District—near where my father . . . you know. Luc was kind enough to make the trip with me.”

“I’m worried about you. I couldn’t teach my class this morning, thinking of what Luc might try on the plane. Did he try anything? Because if he tried anything, so help me—”

Katie looked back at Luc. “Things are fine.”

“Did he try to kiss you?” Eileen grumbled more. “I knew I shouldn’t have let you go alone. The lech.”

“Nothing of that nature, no.” She twisted away from Luc’s ear.

“Just remember. Whatever he’s said to you? He’s probably told three women the same thing this week.”