smiling at him as if she’d just found a long-lost friend. I knew I hadn’t imagined the look on her face, but I also knew that she’d rather die than let an unwelcome guest sense her true feelings. “I’m flattered. I wasn’t sure you’d remember who I was.”
Her soft-edged response hit its target. He shrugged and glanced at the people around him, playing his audience with a smile that was both haughty and sheepish. He probably practiced it in front of a mirror in his spare time. “I know. I know. I could just kick myself. I meant to call when Philippe passed, but things got the better of me.”
Miss Frankie’s expression didn’t change as she beckoned me closer. “Rita? Come here, sugar. I want you to meet an old family friend. Bradley Boudreaux, this is my daughter-in-law, Rita.”
I went eagerly, curious to find out more about their relationship. Big Daddy’s smile faltered as I moved closer, and I glimpsed what might have been genuine sorrow in his eyes. “You’re Phil’s wife?”
Phil? Even I had never called him that.
I told myself not to overreact to the “wife” thing. After seven months in New Orleans, I should be used to hearing myself referred to that way, but it still tweaks my conscience. I’ve given up trying to explain, though. Our relationship was too complicated at the end, making explanations too convoluted.
I nodded and offered him a hand to shake and a little white lie to swallow. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
Big Daddy bypassed the hand and pulled me in for a hug so enthusiastic it took my breath away—and not in a good way. He smelled of bourbon and cigars, both of which made my gag reflex kick in. “No wonder Phil abandoned us for so long,” he said to Miss Frankie over my shoulder. “Just look at her! She’s gorgeous.”
Double gag. I extricated myself from the hug and smiled, saying the only thing I could think of: “You’re an old family friend?”
“Sure am. Phil was my little brother Judd’s closest friend when they were kids.”
Hearing that name brought my head up sharply. This was the brother Judd had talked about with Mellie? I wondered why Philippe had never mentioned his old friend Judd when we were married. I wondered why Miss Frankie had never mentioned the Boudreauxes’ absence at the funeral. Or why she’d never once mentioned knowing Big Daddy when we saw one of his obnoxious commercials on TV.
“The two of them used to drive me crazy,” Big Daddy said. “Tagging along after me, wanting to do things with me and my friends.” He turned the wattage up on his smile and aimed it at Miss Frankie again. “Those were some good times, weren’t they?”
Pain flickered in her eyes, so I tried to edge away from those boyhood memories. “I’ve seen you on TV, but I had no idea you were a friend of Miss Frankie’s. I can’t imagine why we haven’t met before.”
Big Daddy’s broad smile turned into a deep frown. “It’s a damn shame, isn’t it? I wasn’t at the funeral. It wasn’t right, and I hated myself for missing it,” he said again. “But the wife and I were on a cruise. I didn’t even hear about it until we got back, and by then it was too late.”
And he hadn’t found a minute to call on Miss Frankie since then? Busy man.
Up close and personal, he was much taller than he looked on TV, and he managed to slip an arm around my shoulders as he talked. My skin crawled, but I didn’t completely understand why. I only knew that I didn’t like the guy. I made an effort to move away from him, but he tightened his hold, sticking to me like icing on warm cake.
“Judd should have been at the funeral, though. No excuses. But that’s my little brother. He’s a good kid and he means well, but…” His voice trailed off and he shook his head slowly.
I wondered why excuses were okay for Big Daddy but not for his little brother.
“Speaking of Judd,” Big Daddy said, craning to see over our heads, “is he here tonight?”
I