Bayou Bound by Linda Joyce

Author:Linda Joyce [Joyce, Linda]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: romance, contemporary, southern, spicy
Publisher: The Wild Rose Press
Published: 2014-01-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 21

On the drive back to Fleur de Lis with Nick, Biloxi considered the exchange she’d heard between Nick and his grandfather. She hadn’t meant to eavesdrop, but when she couldn’t find a nurse or the doctor, she wanted to let Nick know. She started to enter Claude’s room, but stopped at the threshold. Closed curtains separated the space and she remained hidden behind the makeshift wall. She waited for the right moment to interrupt. However, while she waited, an elderly woman waited also, in the hallway on the other side of the hospital room door.

The woman’s gray hair was styled, teased, curled, and combed. Not one errant strand. Her black leather purse matched her shoes, down to the Chanel buckles. She dabbed her eyes with a lace handkerchief. Her shoulders shook beneath a royal blue wool coat.

Just before the machines started to blare and chaos broke out, the older woman walked away. Biloxi backed away from the door and waited on the other side of the hall when a nurse flew into the room followed by two others. She returned to the waiting room, awaiting any news.

A few minutes later, Nick stepped out of the hospital room and appeared to be in a trance. She called his name three times. He hadn’t heard her at first.

That wasn’t the time for questions, but she’d heard his lie to Claude.

That made sirens in her head blare louder than the ones in Claude’s room. She never would believe that Nick would be so dishonorable as to lie. To tell a bald-faced, burn-in-hell kind of lie.

Disappointment dripped to the bottom of her heart. Why had he used her to make a dying old man happy?

Reeling in disbelief, she had wanted to ask. But dealing with death was enough confrontation for anyone to handle.

Unlike Claude Trahan, she and Nick could fight it out tomorrow.

****

Biloxi rolled over in bed and stared up at the ceiling, her room no longer a sanctuary of peace and contentment. At some point last night, exhaustion claimed her. She’d slept fitfully, waking up often. She wrestled with all she learned. When rays of light filtered in through the shutters and pushed all shadows away, darkness retreated, but frustration stayed. She checked the time again. Only an hour had passed since she’d last looked. Restless, she reached for her cell phone and tapped in the number.

“Good morning, Biloxi,” her grandmother’s voice answered.

“How are you, Grandmother Elise?”

How should she break the news? What would make it less shocking?

“I don’t know how to ask you this, other than to just say it, so here goes. Will you go to a funeral with me?”

Silence hung between them before her grandmother responded. “What a strange request on a Sunday morning. Who died?”

Biloxi paused and clutched the phone tightly. “Claude Trahan.”

“Who, dear?”

“Claude. Charles. Trahan.”

“Oh, my. Oh, my.”

“Grandmother, are you okay?”

When her grandmother didn’t respond, she imagined her slumped on the floor. Had she fainted?

“Grandmother?” Biloxi started to panic. “Grandmother!”

“How did you know him, dear?” Her grandmother spoke in a slow cautious tone.

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