look
on his face, but no. I remember the look on my father's face when I
read Monmon Marguerite's diary to him. He was trembling. The last
thing he wants is for this to be known. Papa's health isn't good
and getting him upset could send him back to the hospital."
"Yeah, and what about grandpa. He exploited
your grandmother and went on his merry way." Sam seemed as angry as
Paul should have been.
"That's the way I felt, too. But we're
talking over fifty years ago in a small southern town. Mixed
couples didn't march down the aisle, man. She just fell in love
with the wrong guy at the wrong time, in the wrong place."
"This is incredible. Listen to yourself
making excuses for him."
"Okay, so he didn't have the guts to buck
generations of convention or risk his social standing, not to
mention inheritance. How many would? Could you?"
"If I truly loved her, yeah, you damn right I
could."
"Real easy to say. We don't know what it's
like to be in their skin, raised a certain way. It would mean
giving up everything you have, including your family." Paul crossed
the room and began arranging the files on his desk.
"He's got you fooled man. Claude Trosclair is
one those southern aristocrats that sees having a black mistress as
his right."
"You haven't met him. Besides, the way my
grandmother's diary reads they had a real love affair going,
poetry, flowers, the whole nine yards. And she knew only too well
that it would have to stay that way for both their sakes."
"If you say so. I just hope you know what
you're doing here. Things are getting real complicated."
"What is that supposed to mean?" Paul
asked.
"We get this contract, and you tell me your
family secret." Sam ticked off fingers counting.
"You're my best friend and partner; I felt
you had a right to know."
"Then you date and dump, of all people, Marie
Leveau.""Her name is LaShaun Rousselle, she works at the museum
which happens to have a voodoo exhibit, and our parting was
cordial."
"Uh-huh, just don't eat anything with red
gravy from her. Then you fall hard for Ms. Greenpeace. When I was
teasing you about how you needed to lighten up and get a life, I
didn't mean all in one day, my brother."
"It's cool. Don't worry about it, alright."
Paul rubbed his face with both hands.
"If you say so. I gotta get going." Sam
raised his eyebrows and shook his head. He paused and turned back.
"Call me if you need anything." He extended his hand.
"You bet." Paul gripped his hand hard for
several seconds before letting go. After Sam left, Paul was more
subdued. So lost in joy that he and Savannah were moving towards
one another, Paul had not allowed himself to think about the
complications. Complications that could spell disaster. Paul could
still see Savannah's lovely face smiling with pleasure. Closing his
eyes, he could almost smell warm scent of her skin. Her affect on
him was not to be denied. Opening his eyes again, Paul faced the
growing fear that he could lose this woman who had become so
precious to him.
*****
Now the days were much shorter, and
temperature became frosty several times as cold fronts moved
through. But in typical sub-tropical fashion, it could be forty
degrees in the morning and seventy degrees by noon as the south
Louisiana sunshine spread across the country side. The next five
weeks were a whirlwind of activity for Savannah. She was busy
helping her father get ready for the Christmas season. Close to
Thanksgiving, business at the gift shopping really began to pick
up. Keeping merchandise in stock was important. Strangely, she had
not missed practicing law or even given thought to reviving the
career for which she had worked so hard. Managing the shop had come
easily to her. She had made changes that increased the profit
margin. With her customary zeal to do anything she did right, she
had studied everything she could find about how to operate a retail
business or gift shop. At her suggestion, they were now doing gift
baskets. Stuffed with Tante