December 22nd
Beth turned, coffee carafe in hand, and smiled when Mack entered the otherwise empty dining room. “Good morning, Mack. You’re a little early but I’ll have the buffet laid out in ten minutes.”
He returned her smile. “That’s fine. I’ll need to finish a cup before I eat, anyway.”
She walked to the table nearest the large window overlooking the side yard, carafe in hand. “First in gets the best table in the house. Did you sleep well?”
“Thanks.” Mack met her at the table, stretched his arms over his head and tried to smother a yawn. “I slept fine.” Liar. Truth be told, he’d slept fitfully, with thoughts of Natalie running through his mind. He’d lain awake for an hour, pondered the emotional connection he felt to the woman. It didn’t matter if they were eyeballs deep in a discussion or silently occupying the same space. Being around Nat came easier to him than it had after months of dating either of his two former fiancées.
He thought about the encounter with Nat last night at the door to her room—had he gone too far with his little mistletoe stunt? Would she even want to spend time with him? He stared out the window at the rope swing descending from a large branch of the massive oak. It sat completely still with the absence of any kind of breeze.
Beth lifted a coffee mug from the table’s place setting and filled it. “Do you have anything special planned for today?”
“What’s the news on that cold front?”
“It won’t make it here until later this evening. You’ve got the entire day to sight see while the weather permits. Drew and I were wondering if you’d ever seen the Gulf.”
He lifted the mug to his nose and breathed in the rich aroma. “I haven’t. Is it far from here?”
“An hour and some change, and you’ll get to see some Louisiana marshland along the way, maybe even an alligator or two sunning themselves. It’s something to think about, right?”
“Minnesota has plenty of marshland but I’ve never seen an alligator in its natural habitat.” He sipped the hot coffee, closing his eyes as it slid down his throat. “Man, this is good stuff. Can I get it up in Wisconsin?”
Beth shook her head. “Not this particular blend. It’s my secret.” The door opened and a group of four men entered the dining room. “I’ll be with you gentlemen in a minute. Go ahead and seat yourselves.”
One man pulled out a chair at the table nearest the door and sat. “We’ll all take our usual orders, Beth.”
“Sure thing, Kip.” Beth leaned over and winked at Mack. “My coffee’s been bringing in the regulars for ten years. These fellas are all local, could just as easily drink their own coffee from their own kitchens, yet they come here for breakfast and at least three mugs each. Part of what keeps this place in the black all year long.”
He took another sip, knowing he’d never find anything this good off the grocery store shelves back home. “Could I talk you out of your secret?”
“Nope. I decided way back when I created the blend that I’d only reveal it to the next owner of this place—it’s only fair.” She leaned in close. “I know Drew’s ready to sell, but I’ve been putting him off until the right person comes along.” She left him with a wink, approached the second table and filled the men’s four coffee mugs before disappearing into the kitchen.
Mack nursed his coffee, contemplating her words until a feminine voice broke into his thoughts.
“Care for some company?”
Startled, he looked into Natalie’s smiling face. “Absolutely!” He stood to pull out the chair next to his, rather than across from him. To his delight, she took it without hesitation.
Beth appeared like magic, again bearing the carafe and her usual bright smile. “Good morning, Natalie. Will you both be eating from the buffet, or would you like to try something from our breakfast menu this morning? I’m whipping up a batch of my French toast recipe for my regulars over there, if either of you would like to try it.”
Natalie’s eyes lit up and she clasped her hands together. “Could I have powdered sugar sprinkled on mine?”
Beth grinned and placed a hand on Natalie’s arm. “I’ll hook you up, honey.” She faced Mack. “How about it, Mack? Want to add French toast to your Louisiana experiences?”
Mack swallowed his coffee and set down his mug. “I grew up eating my mom’s recipe but I’ll try yours for comparisons’ sake.” He watched Beth disappear into the kitchen again, faced Natalie when she spoke.
“The Minnesota version of French toast may differ a little from the southern version. I hope you’re not disappointed.”
He grinned at her, decided to divulge a little info about his heritage. “I haven’t mentioned this yet, but my mom is actually from this area of Louisiana. She was a Landry before she married my dad. I read the other day that Landry is the second most common Cajun name in Louisiana.”
Her eyes wide with surprise, she sat back in her chair. “I never would have guessed you had roots here. So, if Landry is the second most common, what’s the first?”
“It’s pronounced A-bear, but spelled H-E-B-E-R-T.”
Natalie poured a little creamer in her coffee and added a spoonful of sugar. “I’m familiar with the name and I don’t doubt that. My best friend married an Hebert from the Lafayette area. We do lunch or a movie at least once a month and she’s always saying how the families pack the rental hall for their reunions.” She stirred her coffee. “So, is that why you decided to come down to Louisiana for the holidays—to get in touch with your Cajun roots? And how about your mom—did she come too?”
“I came alone. My mom won an all-inclusive trip for two to Hawaii through a local radio station. She and her first cousin, Margaret, grew up more like sisters than cousins. That’s who she took with her to Hawaii. They met up in California and flew together from there.”
Natalie grinned at him. “Did she ask you first to go with her?”
He nodded. “And as much as I love my mom, I had no desire to spend two solid weeks with her. Cousin Margaret was her next choice. When mom told Margaret that I wanted to come south to get out of the snow for a while, she suggested I look up this place.” He looked up as Beth approached with two platters of French toast. “I think you and my mom’s cousin Margaret went to school together didn’t you, Ms. Beth?”
Beth placed one platter on the table and paused. “There were a couple of Margaret’s in my class…which one?”
Mack tore his attention away from the platter of delectable delights before him to meet her curious gaze. “Margaret is a Miller now, but was a Suire. My mom was Marie Landry.”
Her eyes widened in a moment of clarity. “Marie Landry’s boy!” She slapped her free hand over her chest. “I can’t believe it! Why didn’t you say something before?”
He shrugged. “Would it have made a difference? I can’t imagine you treating me any better than you already have.”
She placed a hand on his wrist and smiled. “That’s sweet of you to say.” She pointed to the second table full of men. “Let me get this to those guys and I’ll be back.”
Natalie forked two slices of French toast onto her plate, leaned over and closed her eyes to breathe it in. “Mm, smell that vanilla and cinnamon…looks just like my grandma’s.” She cut a tiny piece and popped it into her mouth, groaning in appreciation. “Delicious!” She waited until she’d finished a bigger bite before commenting. “It’s a small world, huh?”
“It’s not like it’s a coincidence, since Margaret is the one who suggested this place.” He looked up as Beth approached their table again.
“Now that I know you’re Marie’s boy, I’m wondering why I didn’t see it before. You favor her.” Beth’s eyes softened as she smiled. “It makes perfect sense now—it’s why you fit in here so well.”
“Thanks, I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“That’s how I meant it.” She pointed at his plate. “That should taste just like your mom’s. Your grandmother taught us how to make it. The three of us were inseparable all during junior high and high school.”
He sliced off a piece and speared it with his fork to pop it into his mouth. He chewed and swallowed before speaking again. “It’s exactly like my mom’s. And it’s got the perfect amount of crisp to it. Do you use a black iron frying pan?”
She nodded. “Your grandmother insisted it was the only way to make proper French toast.” She sat back and perused the two of them. “You know, Natalie—Mack here was telling me earlier that he’s never seen the Gulf of Mexico. Maybe the two of you could take a ride down to the beach. Hurricane Rita turned that entire coastal area of Cameron Parish into a blank canvas back in 2005—so many homes and business destroyed. It’s made a huge comeback.”
Natalie used a napkin to wipe her mouth. “Rita did as much damage here as Katrina did in Biloxi. I grew up on the Gulf coast, and I’ve vacationed on beaches all along the Mississippi and Alabama coastline, as well as the Florida panhandle. I’ve never seen any of Louisiana’s beaches.” She opened her phone’s GPS. “We’re a little over an hour from the coast, so if we leave soon we can be back in time to watch some football.”
The two of them dug into their meal, making plans for the rest of their day.
Beth brought them more coffee and dropped off a brochure describing the Creole Nature Trail. “Whichever route you decide to take, make sure you travel via the Gibbstown Bridge over the Intracoastal Waterway at least once. I’ve always loved the view from there.”
They thanked her and studied the brochure, heads bent in concentration, until Drew rapped his knuckles on the table to get their attention.
“Beth tells me you’re headed down to the beach today. Y’all be careful and make sure you get back in plenty of time. They say that storm front’s going to be a real doozy.”
Mack sat up straight in his chair. “Any suggestions on which route to take?”
“I’d avoid the west end—too congested. Take 14 down to the Gibbstown Bridge and head south to Rutherford Beach. Enjoy the drive while you can. Five years from now, that end will be as congested as the other, thanks to the eastward expansion of Lake Charles. Besides, the beach looks the same on either end. It’s not like you’re going in for a dip. Unless …” His right brow arched comically. “Are either of you one of those crazy ice swimmers?”
Nat grabbed the brochure and rose from the table. “Not me.”
“Me neither,” Mack added before facing Natalie. “I guess we’ve decided on our route then. I’m ready when you are.”