Sweetheart Reunion (15 page)

As if sensing her fears, Julien pulled back. “What’s wrong,
chère?
”

“Nothing,” she whispered. “Everything.”

“We’ve got a long way to go, don’t we?”

She nodded, unable to voice what was in her heart, the taste of their mint chocolate after-dinner candy still on her lips. The taste of his touch still warming her soul.

Julien lifted her chin with his finger. “I’m going to prove myself to you, Alma. I promise. This time, in spite of my worries, I’m not gonna do anything to mess this up. I mean that. I’ll make us a life and I’ll work hard to honor that pledge.”

He stared down at her, a questioning look on his face. “But I need to know something.”

“What?”

“Do you still have that dream of going away?”

Alma thought about that. Did she want Paris and Rome? Did she want New Orleans or Atlanta? She didn’t know, honestly. Right now, she only wanted to be here in his arms.

“Julien, you’re not holding me back,” she whispered. “I have a responsibility to my family and that has to come first. I think I’ll be in Fleur a long, long time. If I stay, it won’t be because you’re holding me back. It will be because I can’t leave. Because I don’t want to leave.”

“I don’t want to hold you back,” he said, “but I can’t let you go, either. I tried that route and it didn’t work so well. If you stay, I want it to be because you want to be with me and not out there somewhere far away.” He leaned in, his eyes swirling like dark chocolate. “I want you to choose me, Alma. But I want you to be sure when you do. Do you understand?”

She nodded, unable to say anything.

“Do you believe me?”

She believed him. She kissed him again to show him that she wanted to trust him. And, maybe, to show him that she didn’t want to go that route again either. If only she could be completely sure.

She said a silent prayer:
Please, Lord, show us the way. Show me what to do, how to let go and love this man completely. Am I where I’m supposed to be? Is he the one, Lord?

The way Julien looked down at her with the moonlight spilling out of his black eyes, she thought yes, he was the one. The way he kissed her made her feel whole and needed and cherished and loved. Wasn’t that feeling more important than what she might be missing out beyond these waters?

Somewhere off in the distance, a lonely saxophone played a soulful, bluesy tune that seemed to match her mood. The poignant notes lifted out into the night and touched Alma with their melancholy whine, then moved on to caress that ethereal, all-seeing moon. While she kissed the man she was falling in love with all over again.

Chapter Fifteen

T
he moon followed them all the way back across the city and onto the bay bridge into Fleur. But it was a midnight moon now, high in the sky and still smiling down on them. In that light, they’d reached a gentle truce that seemed more forbidden and intimate than all the flirting in the years past.

Julien smiled over at her, a sureness and awareness in his eyes. He considered this a successful evening, she reckoned.

Well, so did she.

Alma hated to go into her tiny cottage alone, and that rankled her. She’d always loved her little house. This had been her grandmother Blanchard’s house. Her daddy and her aunts and uncles had been raised here. After Grand-mère passed, everyone wanted to tear it down. But she begged her daddy to let her redo it and live here since it was so near the café. She’d never felt lonely here before.

Now she wanted Julien to come and sit with her on the couch by the tiny little fireplace, maybe read her a poem or tell her a funny fishing story. She wanted to cook him dinner and laugh with him while they cleaned the kitchen and put away the dishes.

She wanted so many things, things that she’d long ago given up on dreaming about. And that hurt as much as it thrilled her.

She was still afraid.

“You’re frowning,” Julien said as he walked her to the door. “Indigestion, or are you tired of me?”

She laughed up at him. “I’m not tired and no, I don’t have indigestion. But I think I did eat too much.”

He leaned close, his smile bittersweet. “But you’re still trying to figure us out, right?”

Apparently he knew her better than she gave him credit for. “I think so. You know I never make rash decisions.”

“
Oui,
I sure know that. I’ve been waiting almost ten years for you to make a move back toward me.”

That statement floored her and touched her. “So all this time, you figured I’d wise up one day and want you back?”

“
Non,
I didn’t figure. I hoped and prayed.”

“You have remarkable resolve and restraint, Mr. LeBlanc.”

“Not really. But I can be a patient man. If something’s worth waiting for, that is.”

“I hope I don’t disappoint you.”

“Is that a warning?”

She touched a hand to his face. “No. Just a concern. I’d never want to disappoint you again, Julien.”

He tugged her into his arms. “You’ve never done that.”

“I think I did that night long ago. I never realized that I had a big part in your actions that night.”

He touched her hair, tugged at her wrap. “I told you it doesn’t matter now. Let’s forget the past and move toward the future. Our future.”

She hugged him close and, for a moment, enjoyed the comfort of his strong arms. “I’ll need some time. I want this to work, if God means for it to work.”

“I’m praying He does. I’m praying you want me as much as I want you.”

She lifted her head, her eyes touching on his. “I’m praying, too. But right now, I need to get inside and go to sleep. Morning comes early around here.”

“
Oui.
I’ve kept you out long enough. And we do have that festival meeting tomorrow night.”

“Oh, I’d forgotten,” she replied, amazed that he seemed to be serious about his duties on the committee. “I guess I’ll see you then.”

“If not before,” he said. Then he gave her a long good-night kiss that sent delightful little sparks all the way to her toes.

“Good night,” she managed to squeak out. She had a hard time making her key fit the lock.

Julien stood back then grabbed the keys and opened the door for her. Before she could get inside, he tugged her back for a quick peck on her lips. “I had a good time.”

“Me, too. Thank you. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He watched until she’d shut the door.

Alma leaned into that door, taking a deep breath. Then she went to the window and saw him standing under the big cypress tree. She waved and he waved back. Then he turned and walked to his truck.

Alma wanted to sink down on the floor and stay there in a bundle all night.

“What have I done?” she asked herself. “What should I do now?”

So much had happened in a few short weeks. All these years she’d been spinning around like a little top, just out of Julien’s reach. Alma always knew he was there, always felt she could turn to him if she ever needed him.

She’d always needed him.

He’d hugged her during her mother’s illness and death, somehow managing to maintain a quiet, respectful distance each time he brought food or called to check. He’d asked about Callie all throughout Callie’s illness and her divorce. Julien had helped rebuild the café after the last hurricane, vowing to make it strong and sturdy again. He’d supplied her with part of his catch of the day almost every day, giving her the best of his haul, sharing and taking her money to pay so neither of them would be insulted.

Julien had always been nearby, for her. She’d tried to be a friend to him, too.

But now, oh, now things were so different. She’d been walking around in a veil of muted distortion for years, wearing her blinders so she didn’t have to look too closely at her own torment and loneliness.

But tonight her eyes were wide open. Tonight, she’d seen a new Julien, a more serious Julien who did have hopes and dreams and aspirations. Hopes that included her. Dreams that held her.

What would it be like, to be his wife, to have his children, to spend the rest of her time on earth with Julien?

That was the big question.

She knew in her heart she wanted that dream, but she had to be realistic, too. Dreams were one thing. Reality was a whole other issue.

So she went to her room, got dressed for bed, curled up underneath the mosquito netting and prayed that she’d make the right decision.

Because if she turned him away this time, Julien would not be back.

And their delicate friendship would be over forever.

* * *

Julien waited at the door of the fellowship hall the next evening and watched for Alma to cross the street. She was late.

Maybe she wasn’t coming. Maybe last night had been a big mistake.

But she’d kissed him. Several times.

Kissing him didn’t mean she was in love with him, though, he reminded himself. Winning Alma back would be a long, drawn-out progress. He was in this for the long haul.

Somebody thumped him on the back of the head and he whirled, ready to knock right back. “Tebow, what’s your problem?”

“You,” Tebow said with a grin. “If you’d take your eyes off that little house across the street, you might notice other people coming and going around here.”

“I see you,” Julien replied. He rubbed his head. “Now I’ll get a headache.”

“You will not. If you do get any kind of ache, it’ll be coming from your lovesick heart.”

“When did you get back into town and why are you at this meeting?” Julien asked to change the subject.

“I got back last night,” Tebow said as he nodded toward a few other committee members making their way toward the refreshment table inside. “And just in time to pass by Alma’s house and see you two all cuddled up right there underneath the porch light.”

“Is there a law against that?” Julien growled, his gaze shifting back to Alma’s house. Sometimes living in a small town did have disadvantages.

Tebow kept grinning. “No. But such public displays of affection can only mean your charms are wearing down the pretty lady. Am I right?”

“I don’t know,” Julien said, shrugging. “We seem to be making progress, but Alma…she’s a tough cookie.”

“You can make that cookie crumble,” Tebow said with such assurance Julien had to laugh.

“I don’t know about that, bro.”

“Here she comes,” Tebow said, poking Julien so hard he almost fell off the short step into the building.

“Why are you here?” Julien asked again, hoping to look nonchalant when Alma walked up.

“My mama’s got a head cold and she asked me to conduct the meeting and report back to her.”

“Mercy on all of us, then,” Julien replied. No telling what Tebow would forget to remember.

“Hey,” Alma said as she approached them. “Are y’all the welcoming committee?”

“He is,” Tebow said. “Me, I’m just here to read off the five pages of instructions my mama gave to me from her sick bed. She has a cold.”

“Oh, I’ll have to send her some soup,” Alma said, giving Julien a quiet smile. “Ready to get started?”

“Sure.” But he held back. “How are you today?”

“Good,” she said on a low whisper. “I missed you at breakfast…and lunch.”

“I had to go talk to a lawyer about Pierre,” he explained, his mood turning grim. “Charged me money I don’t have, but what else can I do?”

“What did the lawyer say?”

“He’ll try to get probation and community service since it’s a first offense. Pierre was over the legal limit, so he does need to learn his lesson.”

“That might be good for Pierre. Serving others always makes a person appreciate their own circumstances.”

“I’m not sure Pierre worries about others enough to appreciate anything,” Julien admitted. “But he is toeing the line for now.” He took some of her folders as they headed toward the meeting table. “We’ve had some good talks, though. I took Pretty Mollie’s advice and tried to talk to him more and to listen more to what he says back.”

“You love your brother.”

It was a fact and she said it as such. “Yes, I do. But mostly I don’t want to see my mother hurt.”

Her smile showed her understanding…and their new friendship, relationship, whatever-ship. “You’re a good man, Julien.”

“Am I?”

“Of course.” She leaned close. “I had a great time last night.”

“So…no regrets?”

“None so far. But the week’s young.”

Her grin took his breath away. “Well, then, let’s get through this meeting so we can walk underneath the moon again before it turns into a sliver.”

She bobbed her head, still grinning, and hurried to her side of the table. Julien handed her files over then went to get coffee.

“I think you’ve won her over,” Tebow said on a covert mumble. “I haven’t seen Alma grinning so much since she won the bread pudding contest at the festival two years ago.”

“Will you kindly back off?” Julien suggested. “I thought you had a girl in New Orleans, so quit worrying about mine.”

“Ah, well, I did
have
a girl but she decided not to have me around anymore. She wants to explore her options. Go figure.”

“Isn’t that female-speak for ‘Get lost, loser’?”

Tebow held out a hand. “You did not just say that to me!”

“I’m stating facts,” Julien said. “That’s what you always say when you break up with someone. You call yourself a loser.”

“I am a loser,” Tebow replied, a grimace centered on his face. “But I wasn’t feeling it anyway.” Then he looked over to where Alma was talking to another woman. “I envy you and Alma. Y’all have been in love since high school.”

“We have not.”

“Yes, you have.”

“Tebow, it’s time to start the meeting,” Reverend Guidry said, motioning to them. “I believe you have your mother’s notes.”

Tebow winked at Julien then strolled across the room. “Yes, sir. I hope everyone’s had refreshments. This is a long list.”

Julien looked at Alma. She was busy scribbling in her own weighty notebook. Women sure took their busy work seriously.

He watched her, loving the way her brow lifted as she concentrated and the way she held her pen in mid-air while she read over her notes. He loved the way she dressed in floral dresses and skirts and cute little pastel tops with embellishment on them. He checked her feet and got a kick out of the wedged white tennis shoes with sparkly azure-blue laces.

“Julien, want to join us over here?” Reverend Guidry said with a big smile.

Julien looked up to find everyone staring at him.

Tebow was right. He’d been in love with the same woman since high school. He only hoped that woman had always been in love with him, too.

“I’ll be right there.”

He hurried to the table and settled in to discuss the upcoming festival. But it was hard to concentrate on ordering supplies and coordinating when to start setting up tents and tables when all he wanted to do was grab Alma and take her away with him like a pirate capturing a fair maiden.

She smiled at him, listened to his suggestions and answered his questions, all the while with a sweet smile on her pretty face. She responded to everyone else, assuring them it would all turn out wonderful. She gave Tebow a thorough update to pass on to his mother.

Alma was the real deal, entrenched in this community, solid in her faith and a strong supporter of Fleur and its struggling economy. And she was definitely, without a doubt, the woman he intended to spend the rest of his life with.