The Pepper In The Gumbo: A Cane River Romance (20 page)

            Your friend,

    BWK

            Paul sent the email and closed
the laptop, setting it on his desk. He crossed to the bed and dropped onto the
covers, staring up at the ceiling. That probably made no sense at all. He was
exhausted and his brain seemed to be tied up in knots. He wished he could
shelter Alice, give her the peaceful life she wanted.

            He leaned back against his
pillows and shut his eyes. Maybe this was all he would ever get, late night
email with poetry sprinkled over it like bitter chocolate shavings. He should
just accept that reality.

            His phone dinged and he
rolled over, picking it up from his nightstand. A touch of the screen and
Alice’s response popped up.

           
Dear BWK,

                Are you back home now? You
must live on the West Coast. It’s very late here. I can’t sleep. There are so
many worries tonight that I didn’t have a week ago. Some are personal, some
have to do with my store. All of them (except one) are probably silly in
comparison to most problems. Like the fact that I need to get an alarm system
installed and I don’t know anything about them. I hate high tech things and I’m
afraid I’m going to lock myself out of my own house.

            As for the one problem
that’s not so silly, you know that I inherited this bookstore. Well, the
previous owner’s niece has filed a lawsuit against me, in hopes of receiving
half the estate.

 Paul bolted upright in bed. Alice was
being sued?

           
We both know you can’t
split a bookstore. (I don’t even share shelf space.) If Mr. Perrault had wanted
to give her the store, I think he would have. But he’s not here so he can’t
tell them that. There’s nothing to be done, really. Just waiting and wondering
if the judge will decide this stranger deserves half of the store she’s never seen.

            I’m trying to be “like
barley bending in low fields by the sea” as Sara Teasdale wrote, but I’m afraid
I’ve never learned how. It’s always served me better to be unyielding, hard as
stone. But under all this pressure, I feel as if I’m flint, ready to splinter
into a thousand sharp blades.

            Your friend,

                        Alice

            Paul sat still, resisting
the urge to slip on his shoes and walk down the hallway to Alice’s apartment.
He knew she was awake and he knew she would answer. But unfortunately, Alice
hadn’t told Paul about the lawsuit. She told BWK. So, even though he felt close
to her, she had chosen to share this trial with someone she’d never met.

            He pulled out his e-reader
and opened a book he’d uploaded a few weeks ago. In moments, he found what he
was looking for.

           
Dear Alice,

            When you get your alarm
system, remember two things: choose the one you think is the simplest because
if you’re not comfortable with it, you won’t use it. And when you get the
system installed, use it every time. That’s all the wisdom I have on that.

            As for the
once-lost-now-found niece, perhaps you should stop trying to bend.

An emerald is as green as grass,
A ruby red as blood;
A sapphire shines as blue as heaven;
A flint lies in the mud.

A diamond is a brilliant stone,
To catch the world's desire;
An opal holds a fiery spark;
But a flint holds fire.

            I think you should ignore
Sara Teasdale (she’s a bit of a moper, to be honest.).

            Take Christina Rossetti’s
advice and be fire.

                        Your friend,

                        BWK, who is
still in Natchitoches

            Paul sent the message and
then stood up, walking to the long window and staring out at the river. The
apartment was quiet, the city was hushed. It seemed like the whole world was
asleep, except for two lonely people.

            He heard the ding of his
phone from where he stood but didn’t reach for it. He couldn’t guess her
response. Would she ask him to meet her? Would she ask where he was staying?
For some reason, his stomach was twisting with nerves.

            Picking up his phone, he
held it in his hand, feeling the cool metal against his fingertips. If she
asked him to meet her, then he’d go through all the emotion and anxiety he’d
felt before the dance. And even though he knew it was selfish, Paul didn’t know
if he had enough bravery to try and tell her twice in one weekend.

            He touched the screen and
her response popped up.

           
Dear BWK,

               Yes, be fire!

               Tomorrow, I’ll spark the
flame.

                        Thank you.

                      Your friend,

                              Alice

            Paul felt the huge grin
spread over his face.
That’s my girl
, he thought. And moments later,
tried to erase the idea. She wasn’t his girl. She was a lot of things to him
but she wasn’t
his
.

            He shut off the phone and
fell into bed, a smile still touching his lips. He fell into sleep like falling
under water, all at once. He dreamed of bright sparks and her kiss and piles of
old books. He tried to keep them apart, knowing even in his dream that it would
be a disaster, but in the end, it all merged together into a towering flame.

We live in a
society exquisitely dependent on science and technology, in which hardly anyone
knows anything about science and technology. ―Carl Sagan

            Alice
gave herself a silent pep talk. She was about to do something she could never
have imagined just weeks ago. She was going to sue Paul Olivier and her beloved
city of Natchitoches. She had only one friend who might be crazy enough to file
that kind of paper for her and she quickly looked up his number. A few minutes
later, she set the phone back down, her heart pounding in her chest. Randy
Rittenberg, an old high school friend who lived in LaFayette, asked her more
than once if she was sure she wanted to go ahead with it. Once she’d convinced
him she wasn’t backing down, he agreed. By noon, he would fax the papers to
city hall. She would have to go down there, sign and file them.

            Alice
picked up the old rotary phone and dialed again, letting the loud ringing in
her right ear act as a sort of wake up call. Two cups of coffee weren’t enough
to get her sluggish brain moving after a night of worry. After BWK had given
her a pep talk, she’d finally been able to rest, but that had only been a few
hours before dawn.

            “Mayor
Cointreau speaking,” said a gravelly voice.

            “Hello,
mayor. It’s Alice Augustine, from By the Book. I was hoping we could meet
sometime today and talk about that new store that’s going up in the historic
district.”

            There
was a long silence at the other end and Alice could imagine Mayor Cointreau
straightening his tie. It was a nervous tic, like other people cleared their
throats. “I suppose you can come by, if you like, but everything’s already been
approved. I can hear them working on it from here.”

            Alice
took a deep breath. “I’ve decided to file a petition seeking a temporary injunction
with the city to block the construction of ScreenStop in the historical district.
And I’m going to sue to seek the enforcement of the zoning laws.”

            There
was another long silence and this time she couldn’t imagine what he was doing.
Finally he said, “I don’t think you could win that case, Alice.”

            “I’m
claiming undue hardship, since that store will bring down my property prices.”
Alice hadn’t been sure what sort of claim she could make but Randy had given
her several options, the best of which was that By the Book would suffer.

            “I
would suggest you rethink that course of action. We went to a lot of trouble to
make sure ScreenStop could build quickly and without issues. Whatever has
happened between you is no cause for that kind of behavior.”

            “What?”
She nearly choked on her words. “Nothing has happened. I mean, it’s not what
you’re thinking. I decided this before―”

            “If
you do find someone to file this, I’ll have to come out and say that I’m
against your actions and that the city supports Mr. Olivier.” His tone was
cold.

             That
was pretty clear and nothing that she hadn’t expected, but it was still hard to
hear. “I understand,” she said and hung up the phone.

            If
Alice had ever wondered how Paul had gotten that building permit without it
going through the board, she knew now. The application hadn’t followed the city
bylaws. No matter what Paul had said, or what he’d been told, that store was being
constructed without being properly approved.

            The
knowledge made her furious and hopeful at the same time. If she could prove it,
she could stop it. Alice wiped her hands on her linen skirt and took a deep
breath. She didn’t mind tangling with city hall. Authority figures had never
bothered her. It was the thought of facing Paul after he discovered what she’d
done.

           
Be
fire.
Alice held on to those words, repeating them to herself as she
slipped out from behind her desk and paced the small front room. She needed to
let her anger spark itself into something that would create change, not just
let it smolder inside, growing hotter and more painful.

            Jane
Eyre came out from around a range and jumped into her lap. Alice buried her
face in the short-haired tabby’s fur and tried not to cry. The kitty was quiet,
loving, and kept to herself, but she had a sort of sixth sense for when Alice
was upset.

            “Thanks
for the womanly commiseration,” she whispered. Alice took a tissue from her
desk and wiped her eyes. She was sure what she was doing was the right thing,
but her emotions were still a mess. But that was what happened when you fell
for the man you’d promised to fight.

                                                                        ***

            Alice
walked out of city hall without feeling the joy she thought she would. She was
taking action and not allowing some big corporation take over her beautiful
city. She was standing up for a simpler way, an educated life of books and
conversation, rather than mindless flashing TV screens. But even though she
knew she was right, her stomach rolled with the realization of what she’d done.
As much as wanted to believe she could separate Paul from his business, she
couldn’t. She felt as if she’d just attacked a friend.

                                                                 
***

Alice looked up to see a blond man in a
business suit and two technicians walking through her store’s front door. She
felt sweat instantly appear on her forehead. Paul said he would call someone,
but she hadn’t expected it so soon. And here she just returned from throwing a
wrench into his building plans. She felt more than a twinge of guilt. She
stood, brushing papers to the side and startling Van Winkle.

            “Miss Alice Augustine? I’m
Larson McGee. I own Cane River Home Security.” He held out a hand and Alice
took it, hoping her palms weren’t sweaty.

            “Paul said you needed a
consultation. We were working down the street and I said I’d stop in on the way
back. Did you want to set up a time to go over what we could offer you in terms
of security for your business and home?”

            Alice cleared her throat.
Be
fire.
She needed to make decisions as quickly as possible so she wasn’t
spending the whole night awake. “I’m free right now, if you are.”

            Larson smiled. “Works for
me. Why don’t you show us around and then we can talk about different
packages.”

            She stepped around Mr.
Rochester who was giving the intruders a cold stare, and headed for the rare
book room. “Let’s start here.”

                                                                        ***

            Paul
pushed open the door to By the Book and felt his mouth go dry at the sight of
Alice. She stood up from her desk and turned, her dark eyes fixed on him. He
took a second to admire her red silk top and pencil skirt, and then he forced
his eyes upward.

            Her
expression wasn’t just surprise but dread. Paul paused halfway across the
floor. Maybe she thought he’d become a stalker. They’d spent most of the day
together yesterday and then emailed in the middle of the night. He certainly
was showing up every time she turned around. “Hi, Alice. I’m sorry I didn’t
call but I have something for Bix.”

            “For
Bix?” she asked. Her dark eyes flickered down to the small box he held in his
hand.

            A
tall black cat leaped from the top of the range, landing gracefully in front of
him. Paul managed not to jump out of his skin. “That’s Darcy, isn’t it?”

            “Yes.”
She frowned down at the cat who had taken up a position in front of her, green
eyes unblinking. “He doesn’t usually come down here. Either he really likes you
or he really doesn’t.”

            He
continued towards her and Darcy didn’t twitch a muscle. The two of them stood
like soldiers at a guard station. “How will I know which it is?” He stopped a
few feet away.

            “You
won’t.” Alice put a fist to one hip and winked. “We’re good Southerners. We
know how to be hospitable.”

            Maybe
it was the saucy wink that got him but Paul stepped forward. “Mm-hmm,” he said,
letting his voice drop to a level that was just between them. “I think I can
tell the difference. Not always, but every now and then it’s pretty clear.”

            Her
face went pink and he couldn’t help a little smile. Man, she was beautiful.
“Will he be in today?”

            “Who?”
Alice asked.

            He
lifted the e-reader box. “Bix. I’d like to show him how this operates.”

            “Oh,
right. Actually,” she looked at her watch, “he should be here any moment. He
and Charlie both come in on Monday afternoons. If you want to just…” She looked
around the small space and the few comfortable chairs in corners of the
bookstore.

            “I’ll
just sit over here, then.” He turned toward one of the chairs near the front.

            “Oh,
and thank you for calling the alarm company. They came this morning.”

             “And
how did it go? Did you feel comfortable with the package you chose? They’re
usually pretty easy to operate. You won’t lock yourself out.” He tried to look
reassuring.

            She
cocked her head. “Yes, I think it will work out. And do I look like the type to
lock myself out of my house?”

            “Well,
no, but you―” He started to laugh, and then caught himself. She’d written
those words herself not twelve hours ago, but that was to BWK. “I’m glad it
will work out. Your inventory needs to be protected. I’m just going to sit over
here and wait for Bix.”

            He
made his way to the overstuffed chair and settled in, shaking his head at one
more stupid mistake. The best course of action was to just keep his thoughts to
himself until Bix got here. The chair was near the window and the sunlight had
warmed the red corduroy fabric. He put the box on his lap and stretched out. If
only the apartment upstairs had this chair. It was perfect for gaming. He could
feel himself sinking into it, body relaxing, anxiety easing away.

            Alice
stood for a moment, watching him, then went back to her desk. There was a short
display between them and as soon as she sat down, she was hidden from view.
Paul felt his phone buzz in his pocket but he didn’t feel like checking it. He
leaned his head back and took in the long rows of shelves, the smell of old
books and good coffee, the bright sun shining through and hitting the tiled
floor.

            He
could hear her moving papers around on her desk. Even though they were thirty
feet apart, he felt like they were sitting next to each other. And it felt
good. He thought of how she said she’d loved a certain corner of the store and
he wondered which one. The idea of a teenage Alice reading in a bright spot of
sunlight for hours after school made him smile.

            A
long-haired cat wandered out from another room and he squinted at it. Was that
Mrs. Gaskell? He couldn’t keep them all straight. It gave him a short glance
and continued toward the desk. The store was so quiet, Paul could hear Alice
whisper a few words to the cat. There wasn’t any of the usual beeps, buzzing,
and background noise. Somewhere far away a clock ticked. He looked up at the
pendant lights, absent of the usual annoying buzz of fluorescent lighting. The cars
passed outside in a muted, almost soothing way, like waves gently hitting the
shore.

            He
closed his eyes for a moment. Getting only a few hours of sleep didn’t bother
him too much in college, but he wasn’t nineteen any more. He was going to need
some coffee before he toured the construction site that afternoon. There was a
coffee pot somewhere near, he could smell it. It was a dark Louisiana roast,
probably Beau Monde. He should just get up and get himself a cup, just as soon
as he relaxed a few more minutes in this amazingly comfortable chair.