Read Online The Vigil by Marian P. Merritt - Free Book Online Page B

out.”
    “Dad, she said she wants to see me play.”
    “Tell me what time next week, and I’ll be there.” I could do both, this one time.
    Steven smiled and his eyes twinkled as he relayed the time and place.
    The throbbing pain in my head ramped up its beat, and I knew I needed to get home. “I’ll see you then. Good night.”
    “OK. Drive safely.” Beau closed the car door.
    As I drove away, he and Steven waved.
    On the way home, with my headache in full-attack mode, I tried to rationalize why I’d accepted Steven’s invitation but could only come up with one reason: I liked the kid, and he wanted someone other than his dad to watch him do what he loved and was good at. Saturday after next, when I went to Toucoin’s Park, I’d know for sure whether I’d made a mistake or not.
    I recalled Beau’s grandmother’s words and body language. The two did not match. Was she Lady S? I scanned every inch of my hurting brain to remember her first name but couldn’t. I’d only known her as Mrs. Mouton.
    Once home and neck-deep in bath bubbles, the tension in my muscles eased. Accepting Beau’s supper invitation proved to be one of my biggest mistakes lately. When would I learn? Although meeting Steven had been the more pleasant part of the evening. But…had my curiosity about Lady S skewed my better judgment? The simple question about Beau’s wife from his grandmother triggered a spasm of guilt that I’m sure manifested into my inferno headache. Maybe I deserved it. Maybe I should mind my own business and quit asking questions. Or had my questions hit a nerve that could reveal the truth about Lady S?
     
    ****
     
    I spent Saturday morning cleaning house and playing with my poor neglected pooch. So much had happened in the last few weeks I’d been taking care of his primary needs only. Today I braved the heat and humidity and took him to a small dog park near my house. I sat on one of the park benches around a small pond waiting for Anthony, who’d promised to meet us there.
    Mr. Bojangles ran wild after being cooped up for too long.
    Anthony approached wearing blue jean shorts and a Festival Acadiens T-shirt. He carried two snow-cones, one in each hand. The gentle wind blew through his sandy-blond hair. So handsome and considerate. Why hadn’t he been snatched up yet? “Hey, Te .”
    “Tante Lulu’s snoballs. You remembered!”
    “The best snoballs in South Louisiana.” He handed me the dark red one.
    “Anisette, my favorite.” I sucked from the straw and was rewarded with sweet syrupy goodness.
    He kissed my cheek and then sat on the bench next to me. “Couldn’t pass by her snoball stand without stopping. Especially on a hot day like today.”
    “Thank you. These are as good as I remembered.” I turned sideways on the bench. “What’s going on at the Broussard palace?”
    He laughed. “You got that right. It’s like Mama is trying to turn Mawmaw into a queen. She’s doing her best to pamper her. So you can imagine what happens when the pampered tries to pamper and vice versa. Not pleasant.” He chuckled.
    I laughed with him. “I bet it would rival the best reality shows.”
    “Yep. Mawmaw is ready for her own house and keeps bugging Mama to take her home.”
    Mr. Bojangles dropped his ragged tennis ball at my feet. I picked it up and threw it toward the woods. “I bet she is. She’s not one to be taken care of. She likes to be the one in charge. Do you think she’s ready?”
    “I don’t know. She doesn’t seem to remember things as well as she did before. I’m a little worried about her being alone just yet.” He used the straw-spoon combination to shovel bits of blue bubble-gum flavored ice into his mouth. The edges of his lips sported a shade of electric blue. “Are you going over today? Maybe you can talk some sense into her.”
    “Me?” I pointed to my chest. “Yeah, right. Like I could make Clarice Clement do anything she doesn’t want to do.”
    “She is pretty