Sweetheart Reunion (16 page)

But in spite of how well this new plan seemed to be going, he still had to wonder—would the fair maiden want to run away with the likes of him?

Or more to the point—stay right here in Fleur with the likes of him?

Chapter Sixteen

T
he Saturday of the festival started out sunny and beautiful, even if the weather report indicated approaching storms.

Just before noon, Alma stood at the end of Highway 1 through town. An array of brightly colored striped tents lined the closed street, making it look like a giant ribbon floating between the bayou and the big canal that eventually flowed out into the bay and the Gulf. The smell of spicy boiled crawfish and smoked turkey legs and barbecue mingled with the sweet scent of funnel cakes and cotton candy.

Cars filled every available parking space and open spaces along the road on either side. People were mingling under the biggest tent, ready to hear some good zydeco music and dance later at the
fais do-do.
The children’s area held colorful games and a giant blown-up alligator where they could jump and frolic inside the gator’s belly. Right now, between eating at the many food booths and shopping at the arts and crafts booths, everyone seemed to be having a good time.

She felt a hand on her arm and turned to find Julien smiling at her. He held a funnel cake covered with cinnamon and powdered sugar. “Are you hungry?”

“Too busy to eat,” she said, wishing she could sit under the tent with him and enjoy the music.

“C’mon, now,” he said, dragging her off to the side underneath a shady live oak. “I know you’ve been up since dawn and I had Pierre and Sweet Mollie make this funnel cake just for us. They added extra cinnamon and some nutmeg for you.”

“Did they now?” Alma brought off a chunk of the swirled fried dough. “You know this is full of sugar and starch, don’t you?”

“
Oui,
and flour and grease and more sugar and nutmeg and cinnamon. So, your point?”

She laughed at his confused look. “It is good. Okay, maybe a couple of bites before I get back into the fray.”

“What’s left to do?” he asked, allowing her to take another big chunk of their treat. “My people are in place. I’ve got about fifteen teenagers lined up until closing time, and Pierre and Mollie are watching them for me.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Alma asked, glancing down the food alley with a tight smile. “Remember when we were young? You have to stay with them at all times, Julien.”

His overexaggerated grimace almost made her laugh. “I’m hovering nearby and helping as needed. Pierre won’t let them abandon their posts. We’ve got plenty of supplies and more inside the church pantry. I’ve got it under control,
catin
.”

Alma didn’t want him to think she couldn’t trust him. She’d been working on that issue since their night in New Orleans. Since their newfound closeness. Since forever, it seemed. So instead of fretting and suggesting he get back to his post, she took another chunk of the curled dough and munched down on it.

“Aren’t you supposed to test one of your boats out on the channel today?” she asked Julien. “I’ve seen people admiring them at the public dock all day.”

“I am,” he said while he dusted powdered sugar off his fingers. “Your daddy wants to take a ride in the skiff.”

“My daddy?” Alma tried to swallow the dough that was suddenly lodged in her throat. “I thought you two were just teasing me about that. You can’t actually be serious?”

“Completely serious. He said he wanted to test out the wooden skiff. Said he’s had a hankering for a new one.”

“He has a sailboat that holds almost twenty people. Why does he need a new skiff?”

“Maybe he wants one so he can be alone out on the water sometimes without having to take out that big boat full of tourists. That’s his job. This can be his fun, on his own time. He has a trolling motor he can use.”

“Maybe.” Alma felt uneasy, the too-sweet food she’d just eaten hitting her stomach with a thud. “I can’t wrap my brain around you and my papa out on a boat together. A very small boat, I might add.”

“Are you afraid he’ll try to drown me?”

“Maybe. He’s still a tad perturbed about us.”

“Have you told him anything more about us,” Julien asked. Then he held up a hand. “I mean, whatever this is between us at least?”

“I haven’t had a chance to sit down and explain,” she hedged. “We usually have Sunday dinner together out at the house, but Callie was there last time I went out and he’d invited the neighbors over. I didn’t think I should bring it up.”

“So you’re still not sure yourself?”

She saw the frustration and disappointment in his eyes. “He knows enough, Julien. Just enough to leave us alone and let us figure things out. We’re adults, after all.”

“Okay. I guess I can live with that.”

She wished she hadn’t been so apprehensive about the boat ride before, but Alma didn’t want her daddy to get overly excited. His health wasn’t the best. “I’m sure it’ll be okay,” she finally told Julien. “You know how he gets, though. Don’t let him provoke you.”

“Your papa and I have an understanding,” Julien replied. He threw their now empty paper plate into a nearby recycling can. “I understand that if I hurt you again, he will probably kill me. He understands that if I hurt you again, he will surely kill me.”

She laughed at that. “You don’t look too terrified.”

He leaned close, the scent of cinnamon all around him. “That’s because I’m not going to hurt you, ever. I’m rowing as fast as I can to prove that, darlin’.”

Alma gave him a quick kiss. “You can slow down, then. You’re doing okay in that area.”

He kissed her on the nose. “And how about in this area?”

Delight danced down her spine. “Not bad there, either.”

“Okay. I’m off to check on the vagabonds running my popcorn and cotton candy empire. Not to mention cooking my famous funnel cakes.”

She laughed again at his smug tone. The man was adorable, no doubt about that. But would her daddy think the same?

Julien waved at her as he hurried to his assigned booths.

“Well, that was sure special,” her sister said from behind her, her arms full of drink cups and extra napkins. “Now that you’re done kissing and eating and flirting with Julien, want to help me get this stuff to the main food tent?”

Alma sighed. “Sure. I have to check on the gumbo anyway. Might be time to bring out another batch.”

“It’s selling at a brisk pace,” Callie replied. “I think this is your best. How you got so much cooked in the past few days is beyond me.”

Alma laughed. “Winnie helped and so did Mollie. And I haven’t been sleeping much so I spent some extra time in the café, cooking it and then cooling it down.”

“And you’ve got a whole slew of folks in there stirring away right now,” Callie replied. “Think we’ll go through twenty-five gallons today?”

“I’ve prepared for at least four hundred people, based on last year’s estimations,” Alma said while she waved and smiled to people she knew. “Seems we’ve got a bigger crowd this year.”

“No storms, no spills, no floods,” Callie retorted. “And a nice spring day.”

“But rain later,” Alma said with a thread of worry. “Maybe it’ll hold off until tomorrow.”

“Maybe,” Callie said. “Hey, are you okay?”

Alma made a face. “Julien says Papa wants to take a ride out on the skiff he’s got on display down by the docks. Why would our daddy want to go out for a boat ride today of all days? And with Julien?”

“They talked about this before, Alma. I think they’re trying to get to know each other better, for your sake.”

“Maybe so. I’ve just got this worried feeling in the pit of my stomach.”

“That’s not worry, honey,” Callie replied. “You ate half a funnel cake. And that’s probably the only meal you’ve had today, right?”

“You could be right,” Alma admitted. “Maybe I need to find a sandwich or something.”

“Good idea,” Callie replied. “Okay, got that chore taken care of. I’m gonna check on my flower booth and see if any of my volunteers want a break. Then I might grab some of your gumbo and check out the jewelry booths. Wanna come along?”

Alma shook her head. “Do you really need another necklace?”

“No,” Callie replied with a grin. “But I do need some new earrings.”

Her sister loved jewelry as much as Alma loved bling on her tennis shoes. Brenna loved art, Callie loved jewelry and Alma loved cooking, along with shoes. Good thing they were all gainfully employed.

After she helped Callie with her supplies, Alma started back up the long alley of booths. When she passed the funnel cake booth, she saw Julien busy helping the four teenagers inside. But she didn’t see Pierre and Mollie in any of the booths.

“Hey, Sara,” she called to a cute blonde. “Where’s your adult supervisor?”

“You mean Pierre?” the petite girl asked, grinning.

“That’d be the one,” Alma replied, glancing toward Julien in the bigger booth. He was busy with a line of customers. “Where is Pierre?” she asked the girl again.

Sara, busy getting cotton candy for a little boy, said, “Oh, he and Mollie took a break. I think they went to get something to drink.”

Alma didn’t like that since they’d supplied each booth with plenty of water and soda so the volunteers wouldn’t have to leave until their official breaks.

“Was it their scheduled break?” Alma asked.

Sara shrugged. “I don’t know. Ask Emily.”

Emily hurried across the booth with a corn dog. “I swapped with Pierre and he got Patrick to swap with Mollie. I think they were going to where Pierre’s motorcycle is parked.”

Alma shook her head. Pierre was neglecting his supervisor duties to show off his toy to Mollie. She wouldn’t bother Julien with this. She’d go find them and ask them to return to their booths.

Taking off through the crowd of slow-moving people, Alma walked past the church parking lot and scanned the trees and bushes. Then she saw Pierre and Mollie sitting against his bike and Pierre had a beer in his hand.

Was Mollie drinking, too? It didn’t look like it.

Alma walked up, trying to look nonchalant. “Hey, how y’all doing?”

Mollie straightened her spine, clearly embarrassed. “Oh, hi, Alma. What’s up?”

“Nothing much. I just saw the kids in the corn dog and cotton candy booth. I was concerned they didn’t have an adult supervisor.”

Did she really sound like an old fuddy-duddy?

Apparently so, by the way Pierre looked at her.

“We took a break,” he said. Then he took a sip of beer.

Alma didn’t think it was her place to reprimand him, but she couldn’t have him drinking around the underage teens either. “Pierre, you did know this is a nonalcoholic event, right?”

“That’s why I brought my own,” he said on a glib note.

Mollie shook her head. “I’m not drinking, Alma. I just took a five-minute break to see Pierre’s bike.”

Alma wasn’t sure how to handle this. She normally didn’t get into other people’s business, but this festival was geared toward families. Any heavy drinking was done off the premises, away from the church and the busy booths. The police rarely had to arrest anyone for public drinking. She didn’t want Pierre to get into even more trouble. He was on probation, which surely meant he shouldn’t be drinking at all.

“Pierre,” she said, hoping to convince him, “you don’t want to get arrested again. Could you put the beer away for now and get back to your booth?”

He appeared sullen, but he nodded. Then he drained the rest of the beer and tossed the bottle into a nearby trash can. “Julien made me do this. I really don’t like frying corn dogs.”

Mollie looked shocked. “The money goes toward upkeep for the town park and to help people who lost their homes in the last hurricane. It’s for a good cause.”

Pierre didn’t change his mood. “Maybe I don’t care about good causes.”

The hurt look on Mollie’s face said it all. “I can’t believe you just said that.”

Pierre’s expression changed from grouchy to perplexed. And a little unsure. But he used a bit of surly to cover it. “I don’t know why. With me, what you see is what you get. All this do-good stuff didn’t save my daddy.”

Alma pulled Mollie by the arm. “C’mon. I think he’s had too much to drink and he’ll regret talking to you that way when he’s sober.”

Mollie halted though. “No, he’s just hurting. I shouldn’t leave him.”

Pierre glared at them. “No, go ahead. I’m a loser. I’m a drunk. I don’t know why I thought you’d be different.”

“I didn’t say that,” Mollie said, her tone rising.

Alma looked around to see a group of people watching them.

She had to do something before Julien saw this. He’d only make matters worse by getting into an argument with his brother.

“Pierre, let’s go inside the church. It’s getting a little hot out here.”

“I don’t want to go in the church,” he said, his hands out in protest. “I want to take my girl for a ride on my bike.”

“I can’t go,” Mollie said. “Not with you drinking.”

At least the girl had a good head on her shoulders.

Alma tried again. “Pierre, you’re not a loser but you’ve been drinking. Let’s just go inside—”

“I said no,” he shouted. “Now get out of my face.”