Bayou My Love: A Novel (25 page)

With
his hips pinned against mine, he traced a line along my collarbone with his
tongue. I kissed his rough cheek as his hands tightened around my waist. His
touch made me lightheaded, like I was floating away into some point far on the
horizon, and when the phone’s ringing pierced the air, I barely heard it at
all, still raking my fingers through his hair, drawing him even closer.

He
pulled away from me, fumbling to reach my phone on the counter.

“Leave
it,” I said, sliding my hands along his chest, down to his hips.

“Could
be important,” he said, looking at the screen.

“You
answer it then,” I said, gripping him tighter. “My hands are full.”

When
he answered the phone, I caught his free hand and brought it to my lips,
catching one finger in my teeth. He blinked sleepily, then said, “Just a
minute,” and handed me the phone.

I
took it, trying to read his expression.

My
father’s voice boomed from across the Mississippi. “Well, at least someone’s
answering your phone. Who’s that man?”

“Hi,
Dad,” I said. Jack frowned as he slid his arms around me again.

“Who
is that man answering the phone?”

“He’s
my carpenter.” Jack raised his eyebrow, nodding as he tugged at the buttons of
my shirt. I brushed his hands away. He dropped them to my hips.

“You
sound out of breath.”

“I
was hurrying to take this call.” Jack slid one finger between my breasts,
sending a shiver down my arm.

“Why
do you have a carpenter over there this time of day? Overtime will cost you a
fortune. Is this that Jack person that was over there before?”

I
glowered, trying to keep my voice cool and even. Only my father could set me to
fuming this fast. “This is a favor,” I said. “He was a friend of Vergie’s.”

Jack
stepped closer, leaning his body against mine. I rested my hand on his hip,
trying to keep him at bay. My head was already spinning, and my father could
sense weakness like a predator.

“Nothing
comes for free, Enza. But enough about this. I want to know why you sent my
real estate agent away. A perfectly good real estate agent who was set to get
that place on the market pronto. If you’re trying to piss me off, you’re doing
a damn fine job.”

Jack
eased his fingers into my shirt, undoing the buttons.

“I
told you I could finish on my own.”

I
held the phone away from my ear as my father yelled. Jack jokingly shook his
finger at me and whispered, “Bad girl. Very bad.” He slid his fingers down my
arm and added, “Have to straighten you out later.”

I
swatted his hands away, turning my back to him. “Dad,” I began, but it was
impossible to get a word in edgewise. He was in full tirade mode, bellowing
about responsibility, and planning and anything else he could toss at me as an
insult. The man seemed to think I was lacking in everything.

“I
just don’t understand what you’re thinking,” he said. “Every day you spend down
there is money lost.”

“Dad,
relax.”

“Don’t
you tell me to relax. I knew you couldn’t do this on your own. I knew I should
have stopped this a long time ago, before you got out of control.”

“Now
hang on,” I said. Jack took a step back as I got louder. “I can manage just
fine. This place looks great, and it’s going to sell fast.”

“Then
sell it. As-is. Right now.”

“That’s
a mistake. We’ll get much more if you give me time to finish.”

“You
should have called in a crew to help you. We’re going to end up losing a ton of
money on this, and it’s your fault.”

“We’re
not losing money,” I said. Jack’s eyes were wide. He turned back to the
steaming skillets, leaving me to pace by the table. “I know what I’m doing.”

“Clearly
that’s not the case,” he said. “I’m not sinking one more day or one more dime
into that place. It’s going on the market as-is, immediately.”

My
hands began to shake. “Dad, I didn’t want it to come down to this, but the fact
is, Vergie left the house to me. Not you. You’ve got no right to sell it out
from under me, and I won’t let you bully me into it. If this is how you feel,
then I no longer work for you.”

Jack
turned back to me, his eyebrows raised. There was silence on the other end of
the line.

“Did
you hear me, Dad?”

“After
all I’ve done for you,” he said, “this is how you repay me.”

“You’re
the one making it this way.”

He
grumbled something I couldn’t hear, and then said, “If that’s the way you want
it, then fine. But I’ll expect you to pay back every penny I’ve provided for
these repairs, or else I’ll see you in court. I expect payment in thirty days.”

“Dad,
I hardly think that’s necessary.”

“You
have no idea what a disappointment this is,” he said, “but I can’t say I’m all
that surprised.”

Before
I could answer, he hung up.

I
stared at the phone, gritting my teeth so hard I thought surely one would
crack. I tossed the phone onto the table. “Bastard,” I said, and trudged onto
the porch, letting the screen door slam behind me.

The
air was thick and stifling. June in Louisiana was as relentless as my father. I
felt like crying, but I was determined not to let him get the best of me again.
I was tired of crying. I hated crying.

Jack
followed me, and before the door even shut behind him, I said, “Please, just
leave me alone for a minute.” If he showed his typical tenderness I would fall
to pieces.

My
back was to him, but I could feel him staring at me. After a long moment, the
door squeaked as he went back inside. Tears spilled down my cheeks, and I
walked down the steps and into the yard. The grass was soft and damp against my
bare feet, and part of me wanted to melt right into it like rain. When I
stopped at the edge of the yard, I sat down, raking my hands through the lawn like
it was the fur of some gigantic cat.

The
katydids had started up, so loud they made the whole night vibrate. They were
like some huge mechanical beast, buzzing for hours on end. In the tall grass,
the lightning bugs flickered in a frenzy, a million little dots of light that
zigged and zagged, just as lost as I was. This really was a beautiful place,
and the longer I was here, the longer I could see myself staying. If I wasn’t
going to work for my father, did I have a reason to go back home?

There
was no way my father would let me work for him again—that bridge was torched.
He’d forgive me eventually, probably, but suffering through his wrath in the
meantime was not an appealing option. And besides, did I want to keep fighting
against his expectations of me? Why not start my own flipping business? I had a
little savings and might be able to get a loan. It was a possibility I hadn’t
considered before.

I
heard footsteps in the grass behind me and quickly brushed the tears away,
grateful to be in the dark. Seeing me cry was nothing new for him at this
point, but I still hated it. Jack sat down, stretching his feet out, wiggling
his toes. He turned to face me for a minute, then lay down and put his hands
behind his head.

“Want
to fill in the blanks?” he said.

The
silence was like being under a spell. I just wanted to watch the twinkling
fireflies, listen to the buzzing of the katydids and hear the woeful calls of
the owls in the woods.

At
last I said, “My father is displeased.”

“You
have a real gift for understatement, you know that?”

I
stretched out in the grass next to him. It felt good to lie back in the
darkness. “I think we’ve reached the end of our partnership,” I said.

He
turned toward me, his brow furrowed. “What?”

“My
dad and me. We’re done for real this time.”

“Oh.”
He turned back toward the stars. He slid his hand over his chest, like he was
making sure it was still intact. “Right, your dad.”

I
turned to him, resting on my elbow. “You thought I meant you.”

He
shrugged, his eyes sad.

“No,
sir. I’m not done with you yet.” I traced one finger along his arm.

“I
hope not,” he said, sliding his hand behind his head. “For the record, I’m glad
you held your ground. You shouldn’t let him bully you.” He found my hand in the
grass and squeezed.

I
hated that my father could still make me so angry, that I still cared so much
about his approval. As much as I wanted to not need it, a part of me did—and I
wanted that part to disappear.

“As
a side note,” he said, his voice lighter, “you’re stone cold foxy when you’re
all riled up.”

I
smirked, and he pulled my hand to his lips, kissing my knuckles. “You’re doing
a great job with this place. Vergie would be proud.”

“That’s
sweet of you.”

“Don’t
worry,” he said. “This will work out fine. You’re stronger already for it.”

“I
pushed him too far.”

He
snorted. “I think you said exactly what you needed to. Your father is a bully,
and he needs to know when he crosses the line with you. Nobody deserves to be
treated the way he treats you.”

“You
should have heard the disgust in his voice.”

“Cher,
the whole parish heard it. If you hadn’t gone off on him, I would have said
everything you said to him and more.”

I
smiled a little at that—the image of Jack going toe to toe with my father.

He
leaned up on his elbow and leveled his eyes with mine. “I’m a firm believer in
calling people out on their bullshit, regardless of whether they’re your kin.
Hell, sometimes especially because they’re your kin.”

“But
I think he might be right, and that’s what kills me. I am in over my head.”

“So
what? Nobody ever got ahead by not taking risks. And the things worth doing,
they’re usually not all that easy.”

“You’ve
got an answer for everything. It’s sort of irritating.”

“I
learned a lot by screwing up.” He brushed my hair away from my neck and leaned
down so his lips moved against my ear. “You’re tougher than you give yourself
credit for,” he said, his voice deepening. “And I, for one, am glad you ended
up down here. Even though you’re kicking me out of my house.”

“Is
that right?”

“God’s
honest truth,” he said, holding one hand up like a Boy Scout. “Besides, don’t
you feel better after telling him off?”

My
father had completely crawled under my skin. Right then, he was likely sitting
at his massive wood desk, crunching numbers and tallying up my mistakes like I
was some kind of balance sheet.
Screw him
, I thought. I was perfectly
capable of surviving without my father’s approval. It was time to start living
that way.

“Yeah,”
I said. “Actually, it felt damn good. I should get pissed and yell at people
more often.”

He
laughed, rolling onto his back.

I
lay still, listening to his laugh mingle with the calls from the night birds.
Sometimes I was tired of being the planner, being on a schedule. Sometimes I
wanted someone else to take control for me. I wanted to be one tiny thing in
this vast expanse of darkness.

I
sat up quickly and straddled him so that my knees were on either side of his
chest. He slid his hands along my thighs and said, “Well, hello there.”

“Hello,
yourself,” I said, and leaned down to kiss him. His teeth pinched my lip in the
way that always sent a shiver along my skin, and I slid my fingers into his
hair. His hands moved down my back as he pulled me against him. “What’s all
that for?” he said, when he finally took a breath.

“Cheering
me up.” I stood up slowly, easing out of his grasp.

“Hey,
where are you going?”

“It’s
awful hot out here.” Taking a few steps toward the water, I slipped my shirt
over my head and tossed it at him.

Raising
one eyebrow, he said, “What’s gotten into you, cher?”

I
slid out of my skirt and dropped it on the bank.

He
leaned up on his elbows, smiling a wicked smile.

“Are
you coming, or are you just going to gawk at me?” I asked.

He
was on his feet in one fluid motion, sauntering toward me in that easy way of
his that was so disarming. “Come here, you.”

“You
have to catch me first,” I said, stepping into the water.

“Hey,”
he said, jogging toward the bank. “Get back up here.”

The
creek was deep in this part, over my head in the widest bend. The water was
usually still here, except when there was a torrent of rain. Bends like this
one were like lagoons, holding warmth from the heat of the day. Paddling around
on my back, I grinned in the moonlight, splashing and giggling. It was the most
relaxed I’d felt in days, like some crazy baptism that washed away all the
things that left me scared and worried. It felt good to stand up to my father.