Chapter 23

Saturday morning dawned, promising perfect weather. Nola had risen early to practice yoga on the upstairs gallery at Fleur de Lis to find some peace from missing Rex. Thankfully, Mother Nature cooperated. Throughout the morning, the humidity remained low, only rising slightly during the early afternoon.

The start of the party was still a few hours away. So far, everything was running smoothly, thanks to Biloxi. Nola brushed her hair as she watched the activity on the front lawn from her bedroom window. A rented van arrived for the second time that day. Her brother Linc directed it to a spot on the backside of the tent. It was the place designated for Kayla to unload and start her setup for dinner service. Her stunning anniversary cake had been delivered on the first run to Fleur de Lis early that morning.

Her brother had pitched in, along with her cousin Carson, Branna’s brother, to set up tables, then covered them with turquoise tablecloths and beachy accessories Biloxi had selected. Chairs were unfolded, one for every guest. Her brother even oversaw the placement of the flowers and candles for each table, though he did have some help from Sophie, Biloxi’s French sister-in-law. Whispers among the family hinted that a romance was budding between Linc and sweet Sophie.

Nola smiled when the pair appeared together leaving the tent. Linc placed a flower in Sophie’s hair.

“They make a cute couple, but she’s so headstrong, like Nick. I don’t think it can last,” Biloxi said.

Nola turned. “Don’t you believe in knocking before entering someone’s bedroom?”

“The door was ajar. It’s not like you’re hiding a man in here.”

True. However, she’d willingly break the house rules if she could have some time with Rex. What was he doing that moment in New York?

Biloxi ran her finger over the screen of her electronic notepad, then looked at her watch. “We’re completely on schedule. Let’s go down and make sure Kayla has everything.”

Nola smiled. “I’m going to check on Camilla. I haven’t seen her since I arrived.” She didn’t want to explain that she hadn’t spoken to Kayla since she tossed her and Marquis out of her apartment. Her only contact had been a curt text to say she hadn’t resolved the issues with Rex.

“Is something wrong?” Biloxi’s forehead wrinkled with concern.

“Nothing. Now go. You’ll be able to settle any nerves Kayla is having. I’ll be down in a bit.” And she would, but when she came face-to-face with Kayla again, she wanted their conversation to be private. No eavesdropping by well-meaning family who’d want to fix the problems in her life.

After Biloxi left, Nola went down the hall to Camila and Jared’s room. “Hey there,” she said, knocking on the open door. “May I come in?”

“Yes! I need the company.” Camilla winced as she scooted in the bed.

“I mean this in a good way, you are so big. And you’re glowing. You look radiant.” Nola took the chair beside the bed.

“Greta comes and plays games to keep me company. Your sister is so wonderful to me. She set up a camera so I can watch the party tonight.” Camilla pointed to the computer monitor on the antique chest of drawers.

“Are you sure you’re not a spy? We’re not using the real silver, so it’s not like anyone will steal anything.”

Camilla playfully slapped at her. “No, Boo, but it will make me feel a part of all that’s going on. Have you seen Aunt Deidre’s dress? Woo-hoo!”

“Momma is a fashion bee. She casts a long shadow. But, I hope I’ve inherited her genes. I want to look that good when I’m her age.”

“And have a marriage as happy as hers.”

Nola eyed her. “Not you, too!”

“It’s a curse. You’re next in line. When are you going to lasso that Rex and get him to the altar?”

“What do you know about Rex?”

Camilla smiled. “Darlin’, what don’t I know. X is for Xavier. Rex is his middle name. He’s a king, all right. And from the look on your face, you’ve got it bad. I’m telling you—you got to do what it takes if you want true love. It’s work. It’s a full-time job, but a complete labor of love.”

Nola blinked. Her vision blurred as her eyes misted. “There’s just no way. He’s New York. I’m New Orleans.”

“You both share the ‘New’ part,” she joked. “Jared and I are northwestern and southern. We live here, but spend our summers at the ranch. Nola, I’m telling you, find a compromise with Rex. Otherwise, darlin’, you’ll be existing, not living, with a broken heart.”

Camilla offered a tissue. Nola snatched it from her hand. “Dang you. I miss him so bad. I haven’t heard a word from him all week.”

“Believe in miracles. Now, I need to rest.”

Leaving the door slightly ajar, Nola left her cousin’s room and headed back to her own. She pulled a cushion out from under her bed, lit a candle, and began to meditate. Something she’d practiced a couple of times a day since Rex left. It was the only thing that saved her sanity. That and her band kids. Lordy, she didn’t even want to sing.

Instead of moving her mind into a peaceful place of rolling hills, babbling brooks, and chirping birds, her mind kept jerking back to the last kiss she’d shared with Rex.

At the restaurant.

In the dark.

She was beginning to believe she’d imagined it through a tequila haze. However, once her mind locked onto the image, her body took over, experiencing all the tingling sensations his touch aroused in her. She settled into the feelings and savored the experience—it would be all she ever had of him. Would it sustain her in the future? After a few minutes, she blew out the candle, watching the smoke curl upward and wishing it could carry her love to Rex.

She slid into a dress that had set her back over a hundred dollars at a secondhand store—the original price nearly five hundred. The large expenditure, she hoped, would stop Biloxi from teasing her about being so stingy with money. And stop her sister from picking out clothes for her.

“Momma will be proud.” She glanced in the mirror at her reflection in the elegant purple tea-length gown with a lace bodice and long sleeves. It accentuated the narrowness of her waist. The full tulle skirt made it appear as though she glided rather than walked as she moved. The detail she loved the most about the dress were the tiny rhinestones sparkling around her waist.

Nola braided her hair, then wrapped the long length into a bun on top of her head, securing it with pins. The dangling diamond earrings she borrowed from her sister made her smile. She looked good enough to walk a red carpet. The styling was complete when she slipped on purple, strappy, low-heeled shoes.

Making her way to the tent, she wanted to be there before the guests began arriving at five p.m. She nodded to Kayla, then joined Biloxi and Linc waiting at the door to greet the party’s invitees. Her sister planned for their parents to make a grand entrance after all the guests had arrived.

The ballroom set up inside the tent twinkled with a magical ambiance. A partition serving as a backdrop for the band glowed with tiny white lights. Up above, over the tables, strings of lights hung from tent supports like icicles. Balloons covered the ceiling and glittering stars dangled from their streamers, making them appear as though the stars twinkled.

“Ready?” she called to the bandleader.

“Let’s get this party started!”

The combo played the first song on the music set list she’d carefully selected. She’d sung with these same musicians many times over the last ten years at nearly every event they played at Fleur de Lis. Their timing always hit perfectly.

When her parents, Deidre and Sean Dutrey, appeared in the doorway, the band played a contemporary anniversary song written by a New Orleans musician who’d relocated to Dallas after Hurricane Katrina.

All the guests rose and applauded. Nola tingled with excitement. She kissed Momma, then Daddy, as they paused to greet each of their children.

Biloxi stepped to the microphone. “Thank you for coming tonight to help us celebrate the thirty-fifth anniversary of our parents. We hope you’ll enjoy the evening. The buffet is now open, courtesy of Arceneau’s in New Orleans. And, Daddy, all your favorites are there, plus some salad just for Momma.” Biloxi stepped off the stage. The band continued to play, and then she stepped back up. “Oh, one more thing. Our cousin Camilla is on bed rest due to her pregnancy. This camera over here is a way for her to witness the party. Please pass by and give her a wave. Everyone, enjoy.”

On the way to the stage for her first song, Nola passed the five-tier cake perched on a round table in the middle of the tent. The turquoise cake covered in fondant matched the turquoise of the tablecloths. Each tier had been meticulously decorated with a band of lace that looked so real that Nola wanted to touch it to be certain it was edible. Seed pearls accented the lacey look. Kayla had topped the cake with handmade fondant flowers. The numbers 3 and 5 glittered in the middle. She had outdone herself. It was the most beautiful creation Nola’s artistic friend had ever made.

Nola detoured to Kayla. “I’m sorry about what happened at my apartment. I’ll apologize appropriately later, but know that your cake is stunning. Thank you.”

Kayla winked. “I plan to make one for you. I can’t wait until you’re Fleur de Lis’ next bride.”

Nola tilted her head, uncertain what her friend meant, then continued to the microphone stand on stage.

She applauded as the musicians finished their number. “This first song I’m going to sing is one of Momma’s favorites. Growing up, my sister and brother and I heard the stories of how our parents met. I’m sure most of your parents have stories like that.” She counted down for the band. “One. Two. Three.” Then she sang the song Roberta Flack made famous before Nola was born, “The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face.”

Singing, she wandered near the first row of tables and poured her heart out. Her mother beamed. Her father’s focus was glued to her mother.

All the while, she was singing about Rex. The first time she saw his face was forever permanently etched in her mind. It still made her heart beat at 12/8 time, and that which remained of her shredded heart trembled for him.

After finishing the song, she blew a kiss to her parents, then followed her sister’s lead and mingled with guests, greeting and smiling. As she stood next to an elderly neighbor from Bayou Petite, her stomach growled. She covered her belly with her hands as though that would silence the noise.

“Beautiful song. Here, you need this bowl more than me.” The elderly gentleman showed his plate covered in fried chicken, mashed potatoes, and collard greens. “I’m leaving room for crawfish étouffée. That’ll be my dessert.”

“What? No cake?” Nola pointed to the beautiful confection on the center table, then downed a spoonful of gumbo. She recalled the man had helped in the gardens at Fleur de Lis after Katrina.

“That’s a cake? Gawd! That’s too pretty to eat.”

She winked at the man and moved on while the other guests teased him.

When it came time to cut the cake, Biloxi took the spotlight. “Ladies and gentlemen, well, ladies and guys…” The crowd laughed at her joke. “This fabulous creation of a cake was made by Kayla Arceneau of the Arceneau’s of New Orleans. She’s a genius with pastries.”

“Excellent chef, too,” Sean Dutrey called out.

“That she is, Daddy.” Biloxi nodded. “Thank you, Kayla.”

Nola looked on as her friend took a bow, then came forward with a knife almost as long as a sword. The handle was made of pearl and tied with a turquoise silk ribbon. “For the bride and groom. Cake-cutting time.”

On cue, Nola’s cousins, Evie and Melody, stood near the band. Sophie appeared with a camera and snapped photos. Obviously, Biloxi was grooming her in that art. Momma and Daddy rose from their seats and stood by the cake.

“Before we cut the cake, Linc has a toast. Please raise your glasses.” Biloxi lifted a champagne flute. Nola snagged one from a passing server and lifted hers, too.

“Life without the one you love must be a prison or hell. Congratulations to our parents who’ve made loving look so easy.” Linc raised his glass higher. His words pierced Nola’s heart. Is that what she had to look forward to? A week without Rex had been hell. True, she adored all of her students, but wanted someone to share the highs and lows of her day, to spend evenings listening to music they enjoyed, to cuddle and fall asleep wrapped together. To have him look at her with a look of love.

Rex. Oh, Rex.

Her heart skittered, crashed, and burned, tumbling over a cliff. Pain oozed. Intractable, that’s what she was. Stubborn, so much so she was in competition with Kayla for being bullheaded. Which one of them took top billing?

For shame. As if that’s a prize to battle over.

Momma and Daddy cut the cake. Cousins delivered the sweet treat to the guests as Nola picked up the microphone. “This next song continues the journey of Momma and Daddy’s life. It appears, Momma, though completely smitten with Daddy, played hard to get. This song is one of Daddy’s favorites. Thank you, Marvin Gaye, for recording “I Want You to Want Me.” And everyone, please feel free to get up and dance.”

Daddy tugged Momma away from the cake. They moved in unison on the dance floor. Daddy twirled her. Halfway through the song, Daddy belted out a line of the lyrics, then turned Momma and led her into a dip. The crowd cheered.

From her vantage point, Nola looked on. Love for her parents swelled in her heart. At the same time, each beat was a beat without Rex in her life. If her heart beat sixty times a minute, how many beats in an hour? A day? A week? What a waste. Linc was right. Without Rex, life was prison or hell.

She finished her song and ducked outside to feed her sorrow and to escape the joyfulness of the party. Couldn’t have the party’s headline singer be a downer for all.

The last rays of the setting sun blazed through the trees in orange, red, and pink. By seven thirty it would be dark.

What’s Rex doing now?

Saturday night in New York. Probably working at one of his restaurants. Did he meet models, musicians, and socialites? Did any of them have their eyes on him?

As a car moved up the long driveway toward the tent, Nola ducked back inside. Whoever arrived had come late, but better late than never.

A few minutes later, Nola waved away a slice of cake, happy to wait and eat leftovers at midnight. Too much going on. Too much nervous energy. She joined the band for her last song, and she noticed Marquis pulling Kayla into a hug, then draping his arm over her shoulder. He waved. Nola waved back. She had considered caravanning back to New Orleans with Kayla tonight, but now that Marquis was there, the two might have other plans.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I hope you’re enjoying yourselves.” Nola pulled the microphone from its stand and stepped onto the dance floor. “My last song for the evening says it all with the title, “The Look of Love.” It was written by Dusty Springfield.”

The crowd applauded, and she turned to the band. “One. Two. Three.”

As she sang, she crossed the dance floor. The hauntingly beautiful song was perfect for her voice. She continued singing as she walked to the long table at the far end of the tent where her parents sat. There she serenaded them. They beamed.

Finishing the song, she bent and kissed each of her parents on the cheek. “I love you so.”

Unable to blink back the mist forming in her eyes, she headed to the stage to return the microphone. Fighting tears, she had to escape the party before she broke down into a sobbing mess. As Nola made her way to the exit, Kayla snagged her arm.

“Whoa, Nola Belle, this next song is just for you.” Kayla handed her a tissue.

Confused, Nola stopped and dabbed the leaking tears. Marquis stepped up to the stage and belted out the first few notes on his trumpet. The combo joined in, adding depth to the music. The crowd quieted.

From the far opposite corner of the tent, a single voice rang out, “When a Man Loves a Woman.”

Nola blinked. Then swallowed. The baritone voice captivated her. Her heart lurched.

The smile on the face of the man who sang his heart out—to her—sent her heart orbiting. Choking back a sob, she fanned herself. Kayla shoved a chair beneath her. She sat, then folded her hands in her lap, never breaking eye contact with Rex.

Her heart soared.

Her mind blocked out everything—but Rex.

It was as though the two of them were in an empty room.

Crossing the expanse of space, weaving between tables, with each word of the song, Rex drew closer to her. As the song neared conclusion, he reached her and held out his hand. She put hers in his. Rex tugged her to standing. Spinning her around, he pulled her close with her back against his torso. They faced all of the guests when he ended the song and the band stopped playing.

A hush settled over the crowd.

“Mr. and Mrs. Dutrey, it’s very nice to meet you. Happy Anniversary,” Rex said. “Thanks for allowing me to be here and to crash your party.”

Then the band began to play softly. Rex swayed side to side, and she followed his lead. He continued, “I told this woman I loved her, but she never told me if she loved me, too. So, I’ve come for my answer.”

Rex twirled her around to face him.

“Nola Bridgette Dutrey. I love you. We’re too smart not to find a way to make this work.” Rex grinned wide. His eyes softened. His head cocked to one side.

Mesmerized, Nola stared at him.

The look of love!

“Yes!” She hugged him. “I love you, too.”

The crowd cheered. The drummer shimmered the cymbals. Marquis busted out several notes on his trumpet that sounded like a cheer.

Heat rose from her neck to her cheeks. All of her family gathered around them. Handshakes. Hugs. Thumps on the back. Introductions were made all around.

It was déjà vu.

After a few minutes, she tugged on Rex’s hand to pull him from the clutches of her family. There was plenty of time for them to get to know him. Together, they’d work on that. Right now, she needed him all to herself. Leading him out of the tent, she stopped beside the fountain in the circular drive and wrapped her arms around him, peppering his face with kisses—just to be sure he wasn’t a dream.

Her vulnerable heart pinged with hope. No situation lasted forever, but her parents were proof that love was enduring.

“I’m sick without you, Nola,” he whispered in her ear. “I want to offer you a contract, but not the musical kind. The kind that binds my heart and my life with yours forever.”

“Shh. Just kiss me more. Silly man, we’ll talk contracts later. Right now, we have more important business to attend to.”

She smiled and hoped her grin appeared as wicked as she intended. “Come with me.” She led him through the front door of Fleur de Lis. Picking up her full skirt, she ascended the staircase to her bedroom on the second floor.

G.G. Grace, I am going to be the next bride at Fleur de Lis, so forgive me for what I’m about to do. I know you’ll love Rex, just as I do.

Inside the room, she closed the door, then opened the tall window. Music from the band filtered in.

“Come here.” She crooked her finger at Rex. “Dance with me, please.”

He raised an eyebrow. “I’m not sure it’s proper for me to be here.”

“Xavier Rex Arceneau. Are you telling me you won’t dance with me?”

“No, sweetheart, I’m not saying that at all.” She didn’t miss when he cut his eyes to her bed. “But there’s many ways to experience music. And in here, my want of you is rising like a crescendo.”

She giggled and wiggled her eyebrows. Needing to feel the warmth of him, she wrapped her arms around his neck, swaying with him to the music. His hands rested on her hips.

“I just met your family. I want to stay on their right side. There are so many of them. It’s a bit intimidating. Should we return to the party? They might want an encore from you.”

“My family, they’re harmless, I promise.”

Rex kissed her, tugging on her bottom lip. “A family feud was threatened by your sister.”

Nola chuckled. “There was one, once.”

Allowing the music to wrap her in a cocoon with Rex, Nola swayed. Love flowed through her as effortlessly as the music.

“I’ve never invited a man into my bedroom before,” she cooed as they danced. “It’s against the rules. But I’m breaking them because I want you so much.”

“Nola Bridgett Dutrey, music is the language of love. We take it in through hearing. We experience it through our emotions. Music doesn’t require sight. It invites us to use other senses.”

“Hmm…Mr. Arceneau, you’re talking too much.”

Rex scooped her, full tulle skirt and all, and carried her to the bed. Gently, he placed her in the middle. “I’ll be quiet now. I’m going to demonstrate to you how much I love you using another one of our senses—touch.”

****

At midnight, Nola left a sleeping Rex and slowly descended the front stairs, watching for the steps that creaked. A cool brush of air move across her cheek.

Swans mate for life.

The words stopped Nola on the stairs. “G.G. Grace? If that’s a prediction from the other side, I’ll take it. Does it come with a guarantee?”

No further message came. She headed for the kitchen in search of a slice of Kayla’s cake and a glass of milk. The light over the stove cast a small shadow. The sound of metal, like a utensil, clinked against a plate. It came from the far side of the kitchen. Nola peered into the dimness. “Hello?”

“Sister dearest,” Biloxi whispered. “I wondered if you’d come down.”

Her sister sat at the counter in the dark. “You can thank me later.”

She hugged Biloxi. “I’m thanking you now. Rex told me you invited him to come.”

“Hmm…that’s what he said? I invited him? I like that. Rex is a polite man.”

Nola pulled open the refrigerator. “I’m guessing you used your considerable influence to draw him to the party. After all, it’s Saturday night. Busy time for any restaurant.”

“He impressed Momma and Daddy. Momma’s gushing about you being the next bride.”

“Rex and I aren’t quite there yet.”

But I’ve got my fingers crossed. Right, G.G. Grace? He’s mine for life.

“Well, all I can say is that I’ve done my duty as your big sister. When we set eyes on him, I told you to touch.”

Nola giggled. Yes, she had to admit, that was exactly what her big sister had said.

“I’ll deny ever saying this, but sometimes, big sisters know best.”

Grabbing up two slices of cake and a tall glass of milk, Nola turned back to her sister. “Night. Night, Biloxi. I’m going back upstairs and touch some more.”