Under the Sassafras (23 page)

Joelette removed the apron and sat on the swing that had miraculously survived the winds. Muddy and worn out, she slowly pushed the swing with her feet. Her home still stood and now, once again, was livable. She laid her head back and listened to the sounds of the swamp. Frogs croaked in harmony, a breeze ruffled the surviving moss. Joelette put her feet in the swing.

Possum was right. Her heart did belong to another. She had fallen in love with Mansir and she didn’t see that love ending anytime soon.

Joelette's stomach growled. She walked in the kitchen and drank a glass of milk and sat in Mansir’s big comfy chair. It would always be his chair and it was where she felt close to him. She forced her mind to think of something else.

Another day or two of sunshine would dry out her field and she’d be able to see where things stood with that. Her plans for the field filled her mind, she closed her eyes, but as tired as she was her mind would not turn off and sleep escaped her.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

The roar of a motor brought Joelette out of the chair onto the front porch. She shaded her eyes against the sun, now sitting heavy on the horizon, it would be dark soon. But there was enough light that she saw a very shiny, large red pickup driving down the driveway.

Her heart stopped as the tall man unfolded out of the truck.

“Hello, m'lady.”

“Mansir?” she whispered. He was here. Her heart sang then dropped to the bottom of her chest. “What are you doing here?” Her voiced cracked and trembled. “I told you not to come back.”

He grinned and her breath caught. “I never was good at following commands. Besides, I had some news to tell you and I had to see your face when you heard.” With each word, he took a step closer until he stood in front of her. He reached down and took her hands in his.

Memories o
f him standing in his dark suit with a stunning wife next to him flashed across her mind. A wife that was no longer in the picture, a voice reminded her. His wife had been killed, she’d seen the news story, watched it again and again. How Mansir’s best friend and wife had had a torrid affair that had resulted in a lover’s quarrel and her death. Mansir was free. But he still didn’t belong here. He belonged in his world with private jets and sprawling white mansions. “Not now, Mansir, you need to go.” Joelette could taste the salt from her tears in her mouth. She turned her back to him, afraid for him to see her hurt, afraid for him to see her love. “Go home, Mansir.”

He grabbed her shoulders and turned her to face him. “I am home, Joelette.”

She searched his eyes for a reason to believe him. “We are from different worlds, Mansir. Someday the novelty of this small town and bayou living will wear off and you’ll crave the big city, expensive things.” She shook her head. “The two of us just don’t mix.”

He pulled her into his arms and embraced her, allowing her to release her built-up anger and hurt. When she stopped shaking, he led her to the porch.

“I did a lot of soul searching. Hear me out and if you still want me to leave, I will. But I won’t be returning to California. There is nothing there for me now.”

She nodded.

“After I found out about Marion’s death at Tony’s hands, I thought the guilt would eat me alive. And I probably will always carry some guilt about leaving. Maybe if I hadn’t run off that night, she’d still be alive. Her death has taught me though that life is short and if you have happiness in your hands don’t throw it away.”

He was quiet for several minutes before he continued. “The truth is, I’d been unhappy for a long time. For a variety of reasons. Mostly, I just wasn’t living the life I wanted.” He smiled. “But I’ve made some changes. I sold my company. I know I left my employees well cared for and they all still have a job. The new owner is an honest man and I trust him.”

“What are you going to do now?”

“I’ve wanted to teach ever since I
was a little boy. But I got caught up in the praise of everyone about my talent and knowledge about computers and before I knew it, I was a CEO of my own company. But it was never what I wanted.” He released a shaky laugh. “I can’t lie, the money is nice. But it’s all just stuff, more and more stuff.”

She said nothing, merely listened. She looked tired, obviously worn out from the last several days.

“I plan to drive to Lafayette early tomorrow morning,” he said. “I want to check with the university and see what I might have to do to get certified. I have a degree in business, and I took a few education classes and loved them.”

She yawned, covered her mouth with her hand. “I’m sorry. The last few days have been—“

“Say no more. Let’s just get you in bed. We can talk more about this tomorrow.” He picked her up and carried her to her bedroom.

“What are you doing? Put me down.”

He shrugged. “You were nearly asleep and you look exhausted.”

Mansir bent down and brushed his lips ever so gently over hers. He laid her in the bed and tucked her in. “I'm a very patient man, Joelette. I can wait. Just being able to hold you now is enough. But I won't wait forever.”

She yawned again, tried to keep her eyes open, but he could see her lids were heavy. “I'm sorry,” she said. “I haven't slept but a couple of hours the last two nights. Talk to me. Tell me again what happened. Start at the beginning. You sold your company.”

William crawled in bed beside her and spooned himself against her. He talked to her, but he knew she slept. Joelette's breathing became deep and steady. She had fallen into a deep sleep. Still he shared his dreams of their life together.

“I've waited so long for this moment, m'lady. You and me in bed together and look at you. I bet the next time you won't fall asleep. My dreams are coming true. If you let me, I'll make yours come true too.”

A lock of her hair fell over her forehead and he tucked it behind her ear. “Do you have any idea how much I love you? How much I want you? How much I need you?” he whispered.

He kissed her head.

Several hours later, he awoke and knew he should make his way to Lafayette. Today was the first day of his new life and he wanted to start it out right. He’d have a family to take care of.

William stood on the front porch and watched as the fine mist of fog covered the swamp in a blanket of protection. This was the place he had grown to love as his home. He started the truck and headed for the hotel to shower, change clothes and check out. He'd left his beloved shirt that he'd worn on the plane on Joelette's bed, with a note reminding her where he’d gone. Today, he needed a dressy white shirt and tie to impress the administration of the university.

###

Joelette stretched like a cat on her bed. She felt great. “I don't know when I've slept that good. Being held in the arms of someone you love will do that for you, I guess.” She rolled over, a smile on her face. But he wasn’t there. She could see the imprint where his big body had been, pressed onto the quilt. 

She threw the bed covers back and swung her feet to the floor. Joelette went in search of him. The house quiet, she decided he must be on the porch. Making a bathroom stop, she glanced at herself in the mirror. “Wipe that silly grin off your face,” she said to the woman in the mirror. But the woman only smiled back, her eyes filled with love and happiness. Mansir was home, and free.

She brushed her teeth and fixed her hair, and then headed for the front porch. As she walked, she hummed, her feet barely touched the floor.

Her happy state soon disappeared. The porch lay empty. The truck was gone. Fear gripped her heart. “Not again. Please not again.”

She ran back into the house and searched frantically for a note. Maybe he left one in the bedroom. Her pain forgotten she raced into her bedroom. It was like he was never there. Then a touch of blue on her white sheets caught her eye. Joelette yanked the shirt out and stared in disbelief. She tried to blink back her tears. His shirt, he had left his shirt. Like he had left her discarded on her bed.

Mansir was gone. Again.

###

“Joelette, we're home. I can't believe how good the place looks. Where are you, girl?” MaeMae called.

“Mom, look at what Mrs. Broussard gave us. She said we could bring all of this home,” T-Boy said.

“I wanted to tell her. You always get to go first,” Ozamae whined.

Joelette walked out of her bedroom and knelt down to gather the two boys up in her arms. “This is just what I needed-to hear the voices of my two favorite little men. I need a hug.”

MaeMae started to ask a question, but Joelette shook her head as a signal to wait a bit. “I'm going to go unpack my things and let you visit with the boys. It feels good to be home, but you know I did so enjoy my stay at the big house,” MaeMae said.

“Now what's all the excitement about? Ozamae, you may tell me one thing, then it's your brother's turn. You may go back and forth until all is said.” Joelette sat at the table, forcing herself to listen to what her boys had to say, but all the time her mind churned about her betrayal.

“Then Mrs. Broussard gave us all the cookies left over and said every time we ate one to think of her. Wasn't that nice? Mom?” Ozamae's little hand touched Joelette's face. “Are you listening to me?”

“Heard every word. I think we will freeze a large amount of these cookies and not eat them all in a few days. I don't want you two to get sick.” She came to her feet. “Now why don't you go put your things away; put your boots on and then go feed the animals? They fared well from the storm but are very hungry. One Eyed Blanc almost knocked me down yesterday. Don't over feed them or they’ll get sick.”

“Just like the animals huh, Mom? We need to eat a few cookies several times a day instead of all at once, right?” T-Boy said with a serious nod.

“Oh, no you don't. Sometimes you sound just like a lawyer. That's not what I said or meant. She gave them another tight hug and smiled. “Now get.”

Joelette watched her two boys push each other as they ran into their rooms. Maybe she should just be thankful that Mansir had left in the night. Maybe they were spared the pain of another goodbye. Both boys still talked about him every day, but the deep sadness had faded.

The boys came racing back out of their room so fast she was sure they had not put anything away. “Go back and put on your boots and have a careful eye for snakes. The storm brought many close to the house. I think the men shot most of them, but be careful.”

MaeMae returned from unpacking. “What is all the ruckus about? I tell you there is no doubt those two have been cooped up for the last two days.”

“They have gone outside to see about the animals. Do you think it is safe with the snake activity we've had?” Joelette asked.

“Those two boys have been raised on this bayou. They know how to watch out for snakes, to show respect. Besides, the snakes that came in with the storm hightailed it back to the swamp. They don't want to be here any more than we want them here.”
MaeMae poured them a cup of coffee. “Let's have some coffee on the porch and you can tell me what's eating at you.”

The morning sun was hot, though the sky made promises of few clouds. They settled in their chairs, and MaeMae lit her pipe. “Now tell me,
Cher
, did you not get enough sleep last night? Your face looks rested, but your eyes tell a different story. Almost like you've lost your best friend.”

Joelette felt the tears start to flow and the anger she felt trying to hold them back, but the tears were too strong. “He came back, MaeMae. I begged him not to when he called the other night, but he came back anyway.”

“Who came back?” MaeMae put her pipe down and sat on the edge of the rocker and looked Joelette in the eye. She placed her hand up to her chest and asked. “Do you mean Mansir? He's back?” MaeMae's voice not much more than a whisper.

Joelette nodded her head yes and searched for words. “Well, you know how he hired all the men to fix the house. And then showed up last night.” Joelette dried her eyes and took a deep breath. But the tears came anyways. “And then this morning just as quickly as he arrived, he was gone. Left his shirt that I made him.” She shrugged. “I guess he came back just to make sure we were all okay, clear his conscious or something.” She wiped her face again. “I can't let the boys see me like this.”

“Go wash your face with cold water,” MaeMae said. “Take your time. The boys will have to count every feather on each bird before they return. Pour us some of my blackberry wine. I know it's early in the morning, but I think the last several days justify a glass of wine,” MaeMae instructed.

Joelette let the water run, cooling its temperature. Washing her face with the cool rag helped. Her boys squealed in the back yard, laughing and hollering. Playing. Part of her soul settled. Children were so resilient. She would protect them from heartbreak for as long as she was able.

She returned to the porch with wineglasses in hand and propped her feet up on the table Mansir had made for MaeMae. So much had happened to her and her family this past year.

Joelette took a sip of wine to still her shaking insides. MaeMae missed him too; she loved him like a son. Well she would not allow him to hurt her family again.

“How do you know he isn’t coming back? What did he say last night?” MaeMae asked.

Joelette pressed the cool glass of wine to her head, trying to dim the memory of how great she felt when she first saw him yesterday. How she’d wanted nothing more than to stay in his arms forever.

“He told me of the things he did in California. How he sold his company. How he’d felt when he discovered his best friend had killed his wife, after their year-long affair.” She sighed and took another sip of wine. “I remember now that he said he’d be leaving first thing in the morning. I guess I was too tired last night to have understood what he meant.” She shook her head. ”He kept saying he was free. That’s why he returned. He needed to pay a debt, to be free from all obligations.”

“
Cher
,” MaeMae said softly, shaking her head, “I don't think that is why he came back. He loves you, Joelette.”

“I don’t think so. Maybe he did at one time, but he thought he still did and that’s why he came back. But he took one look at this place and remembered how very different our worlds are. He's very wealthy, MaeMae. He's used to living with lots of money, buying what ever he wants.” She set down her wineglass. “I bet when he saw me on the porch, muddy from head to toe, he realized that I’m nothing but a poor Cajun living on a swamp.” She picked up her glass and drained it, then came to her feet.