Night Magic (2 page)

"Tante Marie!" She called, her voice
unsteady. She cleared her throat. The rich contralto voice
stopped.

"That my baby?" Tante Marie came to the porch
still wearing her apron. Her hair was pulled back in a bun, the way
she wore it when she cooked. She laughed and squeezed Savannah, her
full round face glowing with pleasure.

"You look fine as ever." Savannah pinched her
aunt's cheek playfully.

"Go 'head now. You the one. Lord, Lord. You
down to nothin', cher. But we gone fix that, yeah." Tante Marie
held her at arms' length, looking at her niece's trim waist line.
"Done lost all them fine hips."

"Not all, no indeed." Savannah chuckled,
patting the full hips that curved to fill out the straight legged
jeans she wore.

For the next hour she carried in her luggage,
all the while keeping up a steady stream of chatter with her aunt.
Tante Marie brought her up to date on current events in Beau
Chene.

"You seen your papa yet?" Tante Marie hung up
several dresses in the armoire that stood in Savannah's old
bedroom.

"Not yet. Is he all right, I mean has he been
doing pretty well?" Savannah didn't look up from the suitcase she
was unpacking.

"Cher, he miss you. Go see him." Tante Marie
took the clothes from Savannah's hands.

At this time of day, she knew exactly where
to find her father. The once slightly shabby store fronts housing
mom and pop businesses were now replaced by newly restored shops
selling antiques, arts and crafts made by locals, Creole
restaurants, and even a few art galleries. As she pulled into a
parking space directly across from her father's store, Savannah sat
in the car for a few moments to gather her courage. Seeing her
father again was what she wanted most yet dreaded. He was the big,
strong handsome man she had passionately adored. For as long as she
could remember, she had wanted to please him. But would he welcome
her now? Her mother's death had left an empty space between them
that neither found a way to fill. Talking was never easy. Somehow
what started out as a discussion always ended in conflict. Taking a
deep breath, Savannah vowed to make this reunion peaceful. A large,
finely carved cypress sign with "Antoine's " hung over the door.
The tingle of a bell over the door caused her father to look up
from rearranging a shelf of small carved animals.

"Hello, Poppy." Savannah stood uncertainly
just inside the door.

"Hello, sweetheart. Come give the old man a
hug."Her father stood straight and reached out his arms. Savannah
dropped her large handbag on the counter and allowed herself to be
swept up in his embrace. She buried her face in his shirt the way
she had when she was a little girl seeking solace after some
mishap. She breathed in the familiar smell of wood and his favorite
old fashion after shave, lilac vegetal. The fear that he would
still be angry or hurt that she had left home dissolved. She pulled
back hastily wiping the tears pushing at her eyelids despite her
efforts at control.

"How have you been doing, Poppy?" Cupping his
face in her hands, she tried to make the question sound casual. Yet
she couldn't help but notice that he looked older. And tired.

"Can't complain, baby. Can't complain. Come
on over here and tell me how you been doin'." He led her into his
small office where he had two old comfortable chairs.

Savannah noticed he moved a little slower
than before. Yet he still cut a dashing figure. His six foot two
inch frame was as erect as she remembered. The broad chest and
brawny arms were evident even beneath the old long sleeved flannel
shirt he wore. His skin, usually the color of walnut, was still the
darker mahogany brown that came from spending days outside in the
hot Louisiana summer sun. To her, the gray hair at his temples made
him look distinguished. But there was more of it than when she had
visited at Christmas last year. He eased into the swivel chair
behind the desk after setting two steaming cups between them.

"More important, how are you?"

"I'm okay. No, really," She reiterated at her
father's stern look. "It was hard at first but I'm just fine now.
Besides, I wasn't that crazy about living in Shreveport."

"The way you used to talk, it was like you
had died and gone to heaven. Remember, how we had to beg you to
come home that first Thanksgiving after you had moved? And then all
you did was talk about that law firm." He sounded skeptical that
she could give up her new life so painlessly.

"I would have thought you'd be glad. When I
decided to take that job, we got into a big fight. You said I was
too young to be so far away." She stared into her coffee cup. That
was not all they said. The argument became heated until both said
things they later regretted. But it was too painful to repeat the
bitter words they had exchanged.

"I'm so sorry for that. I was being selfish,
too wrapped up in my own pain to give you the support you needed. I
never told you how proud you made me. But every time I looked into
your eyes, I saw your mother. I just felt like I was losin' Therese
all over again." He turned away, his voice breaking.

"I'm sorry too, Poppy. I should have
understood how you felt." She reached out and took his hands in
hers.

"Well, now you're home." Antoine squeezed her
hand once before letting go. "Guess you wanna just take it easy for
awhile, huh? Get yourself settled."

"I could use a rest. But it's got to be a
short one, finding a job is next on the list."

"You don't have to rush into nothin', cher.
You know that. Like I told you before you left, my business is good
and what's mine is yours." Antoine got up to refill his cup.

"I like earning my own way. And I like being
a lawyer." Savannah was beginning to feel the familiar tightness in
her stomach.

"All right, all right. Let's not fuss. Do
what you think best." Just then the battered old rotary phone on
his desk rang. Picking it up on the second ring, Antoine began
taking a mail order. He handed Savannah a small color catalogue.
"Look at that, we ship outta state now." He whispered. "Yes sir,
that right. It's five dollars off. A special sale 'til the end of
the month."

"This is great."Savannah admired the
photography. Her father's wood carvings of animals were set in
reproductions of the natural bayou or forest habitats. She uttered
a tiny delighted cry to see a selection of food items. Apparently,
the years of nagging had paid off. Tante Marie, her father's older
sister, had finally decided to share her wonderful dishes with the
world.

"Say, what's the matter? Y'all don't want to
make money today? This is no way to treat customers." A male voice
boomed aggressively. The bell over the door jingled in the
background.

Startled, Savannah dropped the catalogue.
Hurrying through the door, she almost upset a row of ceramic
figures. Holding her breath, she gently rearranged them. After
checking that none were broken, she turned abruptly and collided
into a broad chest. Two large hands cupped her shoulders. Suddenly,
she found herself looking up into a pair of eyes the color of
almonds. For a moment she felt lost in them. Savannah gazed at the
strong, smooth hands that held her. She took in the dark eyebrows
that stood out so wonderfully against his smooth brown
complexion.

"You okay? I was coming to save them, too."He
smiled down at her, revealing a small space between his two front
teeth.

"Uh-huh."That was all she
could manage. For some inexplicable reason, that one small flaw in
an otherwise perfect row of even ivory teeth set her heart to
fluttering. She fumbled with the figures a little longer than she
needed to trying to regain her balance. But turning to see the
tall, dashing man still smiling destroyed whatever composure she
had managed to gain.
Great, the first
good-looking man you meet and you stumble around like a
dimwit.

*****

Paul stared at the dark hair that brushed his
chest as Savannah turned her back to him suddenly to arrange the
figures on the shelf. The smell of her perfume, a light floral
scent, was so pleasing he leaned toward her as almost a reflex
action. When just as suddenly she turned back to face him, he
stepped back quickly.

"Just making sure you didn't need any more
rescuing." He smiled his best shy smile.

"Is that your Jeep?" The beginning smile on
her face froze instantly. She pointed to the dark green vehicle
parked outside. She suddenly found his smile too smug.

"Sure is, a real beauty I'm sure you
agree."

"You almost killed me today, fool." Savannah
glared at him.

"Out on the old highway? That was you? Well,
well. You were driving kind of recklessly you know. But I'll
forgive you for not yielding, this time anyway."

"Say what?" Savannah's already anger began to
boil. She could not believe this. Did he think his charm would make
almost smashing into her all right?

"Now I know I should have stopped to examine
you closely for injuries." Paul gave her a sassy grin.

"You were too busy being an--" Savannah
stopped

"Hey, Paul. How you doin', man? You done met
my little girl I see." Antoine gave Paul a hearty clap on the
shoulder.

"Oh, yes. I sure have. But we didn't formally
introduce ourselves. Paul Honorè." He nodded to her.Savannah gave
him a tight smile. "Mr. Honorè--"

"Paul, please."

"
Paul
," She said. The smile became
even tighter.

"Paul is an engineer with his own business."
Antoine beamed at him.

"Well, actually my partner Sam and I share
ownership with the bank." Paul gave a short laugh.

"Came to get them decoys for your daddy, huh?
Work goin' okay I hear."Antoine took over. Finding them in the
cabinet nearby, he carefully wrapped each meticulously carved decoy
in old newspaper before putting them in a large box. Savannah wore
a careful mask of disinterest as she took his payment and handed
him a receipt. Seeing the smooth brown hands reach out, she
imagined what the skin on his chest or shoulders looked like. In an
instant, she pictured dark curly hair spread across his chest
reaching down to his navel. She became aware that their hands had
brushed lightly. The place where contact had been made tingled. She
snatched her hand back, placing it on her hip.

Paul grinned at her, only succeeding in
making her even more determined to resist him. He, on the other
hand, gazed at her in dismay. Things were not going well. And to
make things worse, his reaction to her was not the usual animal
attraction he felt when faced with a beautiful woman. He actually
cared what she thought about him. Not just in the short-term until
he knew the thrill of overcoming her resistance. And why was he so
fascinated by the movement of her hair? Or thinking of her skin,
comparing it to the color of dark honey? When she withdrew her hand
as if she didn't want it to be soiled, his jaw tightened in
irritation. Obviously this woman didn't think much of him. He
turned abruptly to her father, so she would not see the effect she
was having on him.

"By the way, I ran into Kyle Singleton's
foreman the other day. He says the plant is going to be fully
operational in two months or less. Trosclair got the go ahead from
DEQ last week," Paul said.

"Don't matter, no. They gone hafta cross me
to keep that thing right in our backyard, that's the truth.
Jackson, he says we gotta good case for to appeal that decision."
Antoine nodded in the direction of the lawyers' office.

"Well, I'll be seeing you
later,
Ms.
Savannah." He emphasized the Ms. and made as if to tip an
imaginary hat.

"Whatever." Savannah without looking at him,
her tone suggesting that she had forgotten he was present and
certainly didn't care if he left.

"Coo!" Her father laughed. "What was that
about? Y'all just met an' already fussin'."

"He thinks a whole lot more of his charm than
I do. But what is this about some plant you're opposed to?"
Savannah was genuinely interested in their last exchange, and
anxious to get away from the subject of Paul Honorè lest her father
notice too much.

"Claude Trosclair put one of his Batton
Chemical Corporation plants right near Easy Town. They gone burn
toxic waste. We ain't gone let 'em though. We got too many them
things all along this river already. And mighty strange they is
most time built next to our neighborhoods. All that land he own, he
didn't sell near his fancy big house or over near no other white
people."

"I read several articles recently about
charges of environmental racism in different parts of the country.
The big companies deny it. They claim to choose sites that make
good business sense, like being near companies that need their
services or have good access to water or rail transportation
routes." Savannah frowned in concentration, trying to remember her
limited knowledge of environmental law.

"Bull! They just figure we too poor to fight,
or too dumb. But Mr. Trosclair wrong if he think we just gonna roll
over this time." Antoine spit out the name as if it were something
nasty he was trying to get off his tongue.

"Claude Trosclair is a powerful man in this
state. He doesn't like having his plans blocked. The last time you
tied in with him. Just be careful, Poppy."Savannah was worried now.
Her father had been nearly killed in an "accident" while he was
fishing one day eight years ago, this during a dispute over
property Antoine owned. The Trosclairs claimed it was originally
part of the plantation, and thus rightfully theirs. Antoine had
escaped serious injury when he fell from his boat into the chilly
waters of Bayou Teche. He'd managed to hang onto a floating log for
a half hour when another fisherman saw him and got help. The
accident was suspicious because it was well known the way Antoine
traveled in the bayou and he knew it like the back of his hand. He
knew the submerged log had not been in the spot between the large
swamp cypresses the day before. The speed of his motor boat made
the impact hurl him several feet into the air. Though nothing could
be proved, the unwanted scrutiny brought on by this coincidental
event caused Trosclair to back off.