Sacrifice (2 page)

Uncle Lance raised his dark eyebrows to his brother. “You see? Everyone else wants to talk about it, why don’t you?”

“
I hear they’re calling it Faglegate,” Val announced.

“
I heard Wackopolooza,” Uncle Lance offered.

“
Would you two stop it!” my father shouted. “Just because everyone else is talking about it doesn’t mean that Nicci wants to hear about it. She doesn’t need to be constantly reminded of what happened.”

“
What’s going on over here? We could hear both of you clear across the room, Bill,” Betty Webster said as she came up behind Val.

Betty was my father’s date and worked as a secretary at Beauvoir Scrap Metal. She was a petite woman with light brown hair, big blue eyes, and was wearing a dark blue, tea length dress. Her small frame stood out beside the tall men.

Val frowned at the brothers. “We should all try and behave. Perhaps you two should save the usual Beauvoir brawl for when Nicci and Dallas march down the aisle.”

“
Val, don’t start that again,” I said, beginning to feel like a broken record. “I told you—”

Val cut me off with a wave of her hand. “I know what you told me. But you’re the closest thing I have to a daughter, Nicci, and I cannot help but hope that you will hurry up and marry that fine man of yours before he gets tired of waiting for you.”

“
Val, please don’t…” I never got to finish my sentence before a tall, lean man joined our little group. He had very short, almost black hair, and haunting dark blue eyes. His cheekbones were high and his jawline was square. There was a scare above his right eye that only seemed to deepen the cool indifference in his eyes.

“
I couldn’t help but hear my name mentioned from the other side of the room,” his husky voice said beside me.

“
I’m glad you’re here, Dallas,” I stated as I patted his arm.

Dallas August had first come into my life six months ago when I had been in New York to promote my book, Painting Jenny. The novel was about my love affair with the artist David Alexander and the creation of his famous portraits of me. The ones he had called his Jennys. The memory of David’s sharp features and warm gray eyes suddenly flashed across my mind. I instantly remembered the figure I had seen earlier that day.

“
You all right?” Dallas asked as he grabbed my hand.

I caught sight of Dallas’s wintry eyes. He was analyzing my features like the angry parent of a troubled teenager. I should have known it would be next to impossible for me to keep anything from the man, considering his previous profession. A former spy for hire, Dallas was skilled at interrogating his suspects until he got every secret he wanted out of them.

“
Of course she’s all right,” Uncle Lance assured him. “Stop fretting, Dallas. A woman needs to be taken care of without being smothered.”

“
And when did you become such an expert on women?” Val asked as her lively blue eyes zeroed in on my uncle’s face. “The only thing you ever taught the five women you were married to was that pasties and a bikini bottom are normal cocktail attire.”

“
It is at my house,” Uncle Lance added with a grin.

“
That would explain why I’ve never been invited over,” Val muttered. She turned her lovely, round face to Dallas and said, “Don’t listen to him, Dallas. He’s an idiot.”

Dallas handed me a flute filled with champagne. “You guys are making quite a ruckus over here.”

“
Just having a little discussion with our girl here,” Val remarked.

Dallas looked over his glass of vodka and soda. “Perhaps we should do this when there aren’t as many spectators.”

Betty walked over and grabbed my father’s hand. “Oh, I agree.”

I gazed about the room to see more than one pair of eyes taking in our heated discussion.

Uncle Lance nodded to Val and my father. “I think you two should just let the subject go and when Nicci is ready to set the date she will. Don’t pressure her.”

“
What is she setting the date for?” Dallas asked, placing his arm casually about my waist.

“
Your wedding,” Val replied.

“
She hasn’t said say yes yet, Val,” Dallas countered.

Val looked at me and smiled. “Of course she will say—”

“
Perhaps we should talk about something else,” I cut in.

Dallas turned his wary eyes to me. “You didn’t tell them what happened earlier?”

I felt my insides shrink at the prospect of letting my family know what I had witnessed in Jackson Square earlier that afternoon.

“
What happened?” my father worriedly asked.

Dallas smiled slyly as he turned from me to my father. “Nicci thinks she saw David in Jackson Square walking among the tourists right after the wedding.”

All eyes instantly turned to me. I glanced over at Dallas and tried to suppress my urge to reach out and strangle him.

My father was the first to speak up. “Nicci, is this true?” he asked.

I looked up into my father’s face and wished I could disappear into the red carpet beneath my feet.

“
I did see a man who looked like David,” I eventually said.

“
But did you think it was David, pet?” Val inquired.

“
I don’t know, Val.” I shrugged. “He looked an awful lot like David,” I insisted.

“
A simple mistake,” my Uncle Lance chimed in. “The guy looked like David. So what? Everyone has a twin.”

“
Let’s hope yours is in prison somewhere,” Val murmured to my uncle.

“
Oh my, this is a feisty group,” Betty Webster exclaimed.

Val turned her attention back to me. “Nicci, you know that man couldn’t have been David. David has been dead for almost three years now. I know how much you loved him, but he is gone.”

There is a point when you know you are teetering on the brink of insanity and another moment when you are going to let everyone around you know that you are insane. How could I disappoint those I loved by telling them what I was actually thinking? Yes, I did believe that the man I had seen earlier in the day was David, but by admitting that fact I would be condemning my sanity to further speculation.

“
No, I know it couldn’t have been David,” I stated stoically, hoping I sounded more convinced than I felt.

“
See?” Uncle Lance laughed as he turned to his brother. “She’s not crazy after all.”

Betty smiled at me. “No one would ever think that, dear.”

“
All of the activities of the past few days must have gotten to you.” Val reached over and took my hand in hers. “You’ve been working too hard, Nicci.”

“
I told her that already, Val,” Dallas concurred.

But I could tell when his eyes met mine that Dallas did not believe me. I turned away, wanting to avoid his frigid stare.

Val gave a relived sigh. “Nicci, I know you’re feeling pressured about the new book.” She quickly glanced at Dallas. “And about other things, but don’t let any of that get to you. Relax and enjoy your life. Why don’t you come with me on my cruise tomorrow? Three weeks around the Mediterranean will do wonders for you.”

“
Thank you, Val, but I don’t think that would be a good idea right now. My publisher might need me to do some additional work before the new book tour starts next month.”

She shook her head. “Well, I think you’re too young to be having nervous breakdowns like your Aunt Hattie.”

“
Did I hear my name mentioned?” Aunt Hattie came waddling up to our small group. “What are ya’ll whispering about over here?” she asked.

Aunt Hattie was my mother’s only sibling and known as the more frantic of the two sisters. She stood a few inches shorter than me and shared some of my mother’s delicate features. But unlike my mother’s pale white skin, Hattie had inherited the Bascselli family’s olive complexion and short, almost pudgy stature. Where my mother and been tall, slender, and the definition of grace, my aunt was plump, awkward, and walked more like a penguin than a human being.

Hattie wiggled her plump finger at me. “Let me guess? You’re discussing your own nuptials to this fine young man. Well, I already have the perfect wedding for you two all planned out. I think we should have the service at Holy Cross Church on Canal Street. It has been completely renovated since Katrina. Then we could all take flower decorated trolleys down Canal Street to a reception at the new Roosevelt Hotel.” She paused. “Or perhaps we should go to—”

“
Hattie,” Uncle Ned interrupted his wife. “Don’t you think you should leave Nicci to plan her own wedding? Besides you have done enough damage to our checkbook with this wedding.”

My Uncle Ned Vasterling was Hattie’s third husband. He had always been a supportive stepfather to my cousin, Colleen, and a practical sounding board for me throughout the years. He was a wiry man with a long face, pale brown eyes, and thinning gray hair. He was always calm, despite his wife’s frenzied behavior, and never appeared angry, even with Colleen, who had a propensity for Jack Daniel’s induced misconduct.

“
Nonsense, Neddie,” Aunt Hattie chided. “Colleen’s wedding has been quite modest compared to many others I have attended in the city.”

“
Hattie you had ten brides maids,” Uncle Ned fired back.

“
Plus an eight-tiered wedding cake decorated with gold leaf,” Val reported.

“
And let’s not forget the caviar and lobster hors d’oeuvres. Along with the six foot high Veuve Clicquot champagne fountain,” Uncle Lance added, raising his eyebrows.

“
And then there was the imported star gazer lilies and delphinium you had in all the wedding bouquets,” Betty called out. All eyes turned to her and she blushed. “I thought that one was obvious,” she said sheepishly.

Hattie waved away the comments with a flick of her hand. “I’m sure Nicci will want just as much tasteful luxury at her own affair.”

“
Wanna bet?” Uncle Lance mumbled.

“
What’s going on over here? People are beginning to stare,” Colleen whined as she came up to my side in her meringue white wedding dress with the exaggerated puffy shoulders and wide hoop skirt. Her lanky, redheaded groom followed close behind her.

“
Oh, we were just discussing Nicci’s wedding to Dallas,” Aunt Hattie explained.

Colleen squealed. “That’s so great,” she said as she hugged me. “When is it?” Colleen stood back from me. “You must to let me design your dress,” she insisted and then looked my figure up and down. “I think I see you in a swirl of cream lace and white silk, off the shoulder with a wide skirt, and long silk gloves. Gloves are all the rage this year.”

“
Only when you’re working with garbage,” Uncle Lance mumbled beneath his breath.

“
Perhaps we could have a small reception at your house, Val.” Aunt Hattie turned to Val. “We could have a tasteful reception in your courtyard in the fall. I was thinking of rose and amber for their wedding colors. What do you think?”

“
Don’t drag me into this caper, Hattie,” Val answered. “Why don’t we let Nicci and Dallas plan their own wedding?”

Ray Phillips laughed as he reached over and patted Dallas on the shoulder. “Better get ready, Dallas. The only question anyone ever asked me about this wedding was my tuxedo size.”

Aunt Hattie waved a dismissive hand at her new son-in-law. “That’s because men can’t plan—”

“
Only pay,” Uncle Ned blurted out.

Colleen and Aunt Hattie looked over at Uncle Ned. Then the two women began sucking in large gasps of air. As their boisterous laughter filled the ballroom, all the guests suddenly grew quiet.

A sickening feeling gripped me as I observed our group. “I think I need some air,” I stated as I handed Dallas my glass of champagne and turned to leave.

“
Pet, don’t go,” Val called out behind me. “We’ll change the subject.”

I glanced back at her. “No, it’s not that. I just need to step outside for a moment.” I took in my wide-eyed family members around me. “Excuse me,” I softly added.

“
I think I’ll join you,” Dallas said next to me and put my champagne glass down on the table next to him. He took my arm firmly in his hand and escorted me away from my family.

It wasn’t until we were standing outside on an adjoining balcony that he finally spoke to me.

“
Well, that was rude.” He scowled at me as he put his vodka and soda down on a nearby table. “Your family is excited for Colleen and for you. Perhaps you should try and be a little less obvious with your emotions,” he scolded.

I looked into his stern face. No matter the circumstance the man seemed to wear a perpetual scowl. “I thought you wanted me to show my emotions. Up until yesterday you thought I wasn’t being emotional enough.”

He rubbed his hand over the back of his neck and sighed. “I just think you should have been a little more tolerant of your family. That’s all. They’re happy for you, for both of us, and they want to share that excitement with you.” His icy eyes pondered mine for a moment. “You’re still thinking about the man you saw in the square this morning, aren’t you?” he questioned.

I turned from him and took in the view of the surrounding French Quarter and Mississippi River from the rooftop balcony. “I don’t know, Dallas.” I wrapped my arms about my waist. “He looked so much like David. And the way he walked. He had David’s confidence and grace. I could have sworn it really was him.”