I frown. “Why do you guess that?”
“Girl, the entire time I’ve known you, the only interest you’ve had in a man was to warm your bed when it got a little too cold before you sent them on their way. Only the ones who agreed with your arrangement got to stay longer than a month or two. I know you’re independent, but people who tend to avoid attachments usually do so because they’re still emotionally engaged elsewhere.”
I sigh. “I try not to lie, so I won’t refute that observation. Let’s just say it’s complicated. I put that old drama in a box and placed it on a shelf to get dusty.”
“But you could never bring yourself to throw it out, not completely. It’s why you haven’t healed.”
I sigh. No, I’m bound. I can’t get rid of it. I promise you, I tried. The words are on the tip of my tongue. I know better than to share. This isn’t her world. I won’t drag her into it.
“You’re right. I couldn’t.” I take a long draw out of the Mason jar. “I took the coward’s way out, and now I’ve got to own up to it. I chose to bury my head in the sand and now I’m back where I started.”
“Or maybe you’re being forced to admit the truth you already knew,” she says.
I flinch. Her words touch a nerve. She’s looking for a romance novel-worthy story. It’s not the one I have to share. My tale is about power, foolishness, and loss of innocence. It’s the stuff that turns a young girl off trusting men altogether. Then again, he’s not really a man, is he?
“Perhaps. The answers will come to light soon, whatever side of the fence my emotions fall on.”
“You don’t have to go if you don’t want to. I’m sure you could pick up some spare work here and there.”
Her words are tempting. “Yes, I do. It’s not like we won’t keep in touch. I was never afraid of putting in regular time wit
h pen and paper.”
She smiles. “I’ll look forward to hearing about your adventures. Louisiana is a far cry from our tiny town.”
“Not as much as you’d think. I’m in the Bayou, not the city. Now, Nawlins is a world all unto itself.”
Heather lifts her jar. “To new beginnings.”
“New beginnings.” We clink rims. The ting sounds like the dinner bell the maid used to ring at the extravagant dinner balls I once attended. Back then, I’d been enchanted by the glitz and glamour. This time around is different. I’m the one up on the carving block.
We continue to drink and switch out records. I’m reminded of my youth. Full of music, dancing, and family and friends, it was a charmed period of time I remember fondly. I’ll add today to those cherished memories.
We pass out on the bed as the sun begins to rise and the sky turns from deep purple to lilac. I welcome the oblivion of sleep.
I find myself on the wraparound porch of my mémé’s home. She sits a regal beauty in her long, white muslin gown. Her coarse, snow-white hair is covered by a colorful purple, gold, and green scarf. The creak of the rocking chair as she moves back and forth is familiar. Turning toward me, she delivers a wide smile which softens her face and brightens her dark brown eyes.
“Mémé?” I ask, trying to figure out if it’s more than a usual dream.
“Finally, you’re coming back to me, chérie. I been waiting a long time for this moment.”
I’m glad one of us is excited.
“Humph, you forget who you dealing with?” she asks, reading my thoughts with ease.
So, it is more than a dream. “No, ma’am. But we both know I left for a reason.”
“Ran is more like it. You know better, Lou Lou. You can’t escape your destiny.”
“Destiny?” I scoff.
“Nothing happens by chance,” Mémé says.
I grind my teeth to keep from saying something disrespectful to the matriarch of our family. She’d slap the taste out of my mouth quicker than I could say I’m sorry.
“Go on and speak your mind.” Mémé nods toward me.
“What’s to say? You have your opinions, and I have mine.” I shrug, swallowing down the words dancing on the tip of my tongue.