“You need to take time for yourself.”
“You sound like a therapist, and I should know.”
“Jasper could be cantankerous.” He shrugs, and his shoulder brushes mine. “I went to some support group meetings in Terrebonne Parish.”
He went to caregiver meetings for a man who wasn’t family? “That’s a lot to take on for a ‘cantankerous’ old man not even related to you.”
“Not by blood. Jasper was my parrain, and he didn’t have anyone else.”
“What’s a pa-ra?”
“Godfather.”
“Oh.” Well, that explains why he opened the house for us the day we arrived. “He didn’t have friends?”
“Ray-feel was his only real friend. He ran most folks off. All the others owed him money and made themselves real scarce.”
If Raphael was his only real friend, that doesn’t speak well of Jasper. I’m not sure I would have stuck around. “You could have made yourself scarce.”
“I owed him.” He turns toward me, and his eyes turn a deeper shade of green beneath the weak garage light. “He taught me how to strip antique furniture the right way and how to make plaster casts of old moldings and cornices. Most everything I know about restoration comes from Jasper.”
I let that sink in and then ask, “If Jasper restored homes for a living, why’d he let his own house fall apart?”
“Restoration was his hobby. He made his living from gambling.”
That explains a lot about Raphael, too.
“And Sutton Hall isn’t falling apart. I’ve restored homes that were actually uninhabitable.”
“I bet that cost an arm and a leg.”
He grins and rises to his feet. “An arm and a leg and a few other body parts, too.” He grabs the pole holding the carriage top with the fringe on it. “We put Jasper in this thing and hauled him over to the cemetery.” He shakes it like he did the balcony railing. “I imagine y’all will use it, too.”
“That’s Mom’s plan, but on days like today, I’m thinking more of hauling her behind it.” I expect him to frown at me for saying such a horrible thing, but instead he chuckles and jumps to the floor.
“Come see.” He holds up a hand like he’s planning to help me down, but I don’t know if I’m ready to leave yet. I’m suspicious of what he might want to show me, and I look around.
“Come see what?”
“Come here.” He motions for me. “I’ll help you down.”
“You should have said that.”
“I did. Everyone knows that ‘come see’ means ‘come here.’ Just like we don’t go to the store and buy groceries. We go to the store and make groceries.”
“What? Why would you make your own groceries when they’re already packaged?”
He shakes his head like I’m confusing. “I forget you’re from the North and talk funny.”
“Me?” I take his hand, even though I know I’ll have to turn around and give him an eyeful of butt cheeks as I climb down. “I talk like a normal person.” He wasn’t a gentleman that first day when he found me shoving chips in my mouth. I guess he’s reformed. “Move back so my behind isn’t in your face.”
He laughs and puts his hands on my waist. “As tempting as that sounds…” He lifts me from the surrey and I instinctively grab his shoulder. In those few seconds, several things happen all at once. My pulse jumps, my heart booms, and my skin flushes. My brain says, Ohh, this is nice, but my mouth says, “I’m too heavy.”
He sets me on the ground but keeps his hands on my waist. “You’re far from heavy, tee Lou.”
I’ve gone from tee Lou Ann to tee Lou. I like it, and I’m not going to analyze the situation to death. With his green eyes and dark hair, and his smooth southern Louisiana accent, he could talk a girl into some real trouble.
“You don’t weigh much more than the catfish I pulled down the bayou last weekend.”