Ten

“To my question?” Bliss sighed. “Oh no, Bobby, I didn’t mean to cause you to worry. Just ignore me. What do I know? I’ve never been married. I’m the last one you should—”

“Amy, darlin’, this is your pop.” His gaze met Bliss’s across the cab of the truck. “Yeah, I’m still pretty pumped about that contract, too. You’re definitely a chip off the old block. I can’t wait for you to tell Grandpa.”

Pause.

“No, of course I didn’t tell him. This is your deal. You get to tell him.”

Another pause.

“Yeah, he and Grandma should be back in another week, ten days at the most. You’ll be back well before then. Say, I want to talk to you about something else if you have just a minute.” Bobby’s brows shot up. “Oh, you don’t?”

He looked over at Bliss and shrugged. She offered a smile.

“I understand you’ve got dinner plans and all, but don’t you have just a second to talk about your. . . Well, that is, don’t you want to know how things are going here?”

Bliss watched the cars passing by, trying to tune out the conversation. Still, it was a bit difficult not to hear a conversation going on less than a foot away.

“Well, all right,” Bobby said. “Sure, I’ll take care of everything. You just enjoy Paris.”

“Everything all right?” Bliss asked when Bobby hung up.

He stared down at the cell phone, then set it back in the center console’s storage compartment. “You were right,” he said as he slowly turned toward Bliss.

“Right about what?”

“She’s not interested in the details of the wedding.” He shrugged. “ ‘I trust you, Daddy.’ That’s what she told me.”

“I see.”

“Yeah, I think I see, too.” He paused a second before shifting into reverse. “I’m just not sure what I’m going to do about this.”

Bliss cleared her throat. “I’m not keen on offering any more words of wisdom, but I will say that I think you need to keep doing what you’re doing. Keep planning this wedding until she comes back and takes over. When’s she coming back, anyway?”

“Another week,” he said.

“Same time Yvonne’s due back.” She smiled. “See, one more week of this, then you can turn it all over to them.”

“Nope.” He gunned the engine and shot into an empty spot on the heavily traveled road. “Yvonne’s not coming back.”

“Really?” She sat up a little straighter and tore her eyes from the road ahead. “Why not?”

“Her husband bought her a condo overlooking Diamond Head. She’s retiring.”

“Wow. Just like that?”

“Guess so.” He braked for a light, and she saw him heave a sigh.

“I know you were depending on her to come back. What will you do now?”

He glanced her way. “That’s the one good thing about this. Your mother’s agreed to hire on permanently.”

“She has?” Bliss considered this piece of news and tried to make sense of it. She’d predicted a few scenarios that might take place once Mama went to work at Tratelli Aviation, but any sort of permanent employment was not one of them. “Well, how about that?”

“You sound disappointed.”

“No, I’m surprised.” She grinned. “And pleased. She’s been lost ever since the sawmill sold. I wonder about something, though. Are you sure you know what you’re doing? Mama can be, well, a force of nature, on occasion.”

His laughter was contagious. “Actually, that’s part of her charm. At least so far. The woman sure can negotiate. I’m still trying to figure out how I agreed to her terms.”

“Doesn’t surprise me. My granddaddy taught her how to bargain. He always said she had a better head for business than my daddy.”

“Still, she’s got a better vacation plan than I did coming in, and the owner was my father.”

Bliss shook her head. “No, don’t bother to try to analyze it. Just go along with her. It’s better for all of us if you do.”

“She does make a fine cup of coffee,” he said. “And she can pronounce my name.”

“Has that been a problem?”

“The last temp called me Mr. Tarantino.” He shook his head. “The one before that put a guy from Japan on hold, then left for lunch.”

“Oh no.” The gadget on his dash chirped, indicating their destination was near. “There it is.” Bliss pointed to the huge gold letters of Divine Occasions that seemed to float across a sign covered in a cloud of white lights.

“Subtle,” Bobby said as he parked and turned off the engine. “At least it looks like this one’s actually open for business.”

He loped to the sidewalk, then once Bliss joined him, set the truck alarm and headed for the door. “Say a prayer, Bliss. This place is my last hope.”

Bliss giggled. “You’re going to need those prayers.”

“Oh?”

She nodded. “Wait until you meet the Broussard sisters.”

Bob shook his head. “Who?”

“The Broussard sisters.” Bliss gestured toward the front doors of Divine Occasions. “Isolde and Isabelle.” She opened the door and glanced at Bobby over her shoulder. “Just don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

The first thing to hit her upon entering Divine Occasions was the scent of roses, in buckets sorted by color. Such was the volume of business at the humble establishment that only a few dozen blossoms ever remained at the end of the week. Those, she knew, were donated to the nursing home over by Lafayette General.

Purple curtains at the rear of the room opened to reveal a plus-sized woman dressed in stop-sign red from head to toe. Even her cheek color seemed to have been chosen to match the ensemble.

“Well, I do declare. If it isn’t that sweet girl who wanted to open the cake shop. Least I think it is. Comment ça va, cher ?”

Bobby leaned close. “Which one is that?”

Bliss spoke through her smile. “I have no idea.” She turned her attention to the shopkeeper. “Ça va bien.” She nodded at the senior citizen with the fire-engine red curls. “Yes, it’s me. My, but you have a good memory.”

“Isolde and me, we’re old, hon, but we don’t miss much. Who dis man you wit?” She turned her attention to Bobby. “Now ain’t you some specimen? You done good, girl,” she said to Bliss. “He’s a little long in the tooth for me, but Isolde, she don’t mind them so old.”

“What?” Bliss struggled to catch up to the subject change. “Oh no, Bobby’s not my. . . Well, he’s the father of the bride.”

“Father of the bride?” Isabelle sized up Bobby, then looked over her shoulder. “Isolde! Put down your window decorations and get on out here. We got customers.”

A woman in the same outfit with matching red hair stepped through the curtain. In one hand, she held a collection of extension cords. In the other, a pair of scissors.

“Mais non, Isabelle,” Isolde said. “This one cannot be a customer. It’s that woman with the funny name. The one who wanted to bake cakes.” She set the scissors on the counter and gripped the cords to her ample chest. “But who is this?” Isolde leaned across the counter to check Bobby out. “Merci, you are très handsome.”

“Ladies,” Bobby said, “I’ve got a wedding to pull off, and I don’t have much time.” Neither seemed bothered by this statement, so he continued. “Twelve hundred invitations went out, and as of two weeks ago, four hundred were coming.”

Twin sets of painted-on brows rose. “And when is this soirée?”

Bobby took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “The last Saturday in March.” He paused. “Of this year.”

“This year?” the twins said in unison.

“Yes,” Bliss supplied when Bobby seemed unable to speak. “Mr. Tratelli had a wedding planner, but the gentleman seems to have left town. He was only recently made aware of this. Isn’t that right, Bobby?”

Isabelle’s eyes narrowed. “You mean you got stiffed by your planner?” When Bobby nodded, she gave her sister a look. They spoke in rapid-fire French for a moment before Isabelle said, “We got to help him.”

“I suppose we do.” This from Isolde.

“It’ll cost extra, of course,” Isabelle said.

Bobby exchanged an I-guessed-as-much look with Bliss. “I understand.”

Isolde set the scissors down and reached for a pen. “Where’s the ceremony?”

“Our church is in Latagnier, the one on Bayou Nouvelle near the old Breaux place. They’d originally planned to have the reception in the garden there, too, but the so-called wedding planner took off with the down payment.” Bobby clapped his hands at his sides. “Another bride reserved the date for her wedding.”

“And what else has been done?” Isabelle asked.

“I’m not sure.” Frowning, he looked to be trying to remember. “I know the dress is at Neecie’s place in Latagnier.”

“Neecie’s Place?” Isolde shook her head, and her extension cords swayed. “I don’t know no Neecie’s Place.”

“Wedding Belles,” Bliss supplied. “That’s the name of it.”

“That’s right.” Bobby gave her a grateful look and said, “Thank you.”

“We can find that one in the phone book, yes?” Isolde said.

“Yes,” Bliss offered. “Or I can give it to you.”

“Please, yes, do that, hon. Now, is there anything else you can tell us?” Isabelle said.

“Anything else?” Bobby looked toward Bliss with a helpless stare. “Do you know of anything else?”

“Like what?” Bliss asked.

“Colors, music preferences, all that stuff, eh?” Isolde said as Isabelle nodded in agreement. “We need something to work with, cher, lessen you want us to make it all up.”

“We could do that,” Isabelle said, “but you might have ideas of your own. Say, handsome, where is that daughter of yours? Maybe we ought to talk to her.”

“She’ll be back in a week. I’m taking care of this for her.”

“Well, that explains why you don’t got no wedding plans and it’s less than a month before the wedding,” Isolde said.

“Hush, sister,” Isabelle scolded. “We don’t talk to the customers that way, you hear?” She offered Bobby a smile. “Now, you got something to show us on what’s been done?”

“Anything will do,” Isolde echoed.

Bobby snapped his fingers. “I’ve got a folder out in the truck. Just a sec,” he said as he went bounding outside.

“Oh my,” Isabelle said. “He is a fine-lookin’ man, Bliss. Are you certain you two are not a couple?”

“Yes, ma’am, I’m certain.”

Isolde made her way around the counter, holding the cords up high to keep from tripping. “Are you crazy in the head, girlie?” She tossed her orange necklaces around her neck, then grabbed Bliss’s hands. “The Lord, He don’t have any accidents, non?”

“Non. I mean yes.” Bliss shook her head. “What I mean to say is, of course He doesn’t make any mistakes.”

“That’s right,” Isolde said. “Now I’m gonna done tell you if you don’t listen the first time to my advice, you gone done missed it.” She wagged a gnarled finger at Bliss. “The Lord, He done tole me that man out there’s the one for you. Mark my words. You gonna need a wedding planned before long.”

The bell rang, indicating that Bobby had returned. “Here’s the file.” He held up a blue folder. “Something blue,” he said with a shrug.

When neither woman got the joke, Bliss stepped in. “Could we sit somewhere?”

“Oh, that’s right,” Isolde said. “You the cripple girl.”

The words cut like a knife through Bliss’s heart. Before she could speak, Isabelle came to her rescue.

“Pshaw, sister,” she said. “She’s fit as a fiddle. Can’t you see that?” She turned her attention to Bobby. “You, big handsome man. You want some coffee?”

When Bobby declined, Isabelle pointed to a table and chairs in the corner. “Go plant yourself over there, and we’ll get the books.”

At first he didn’t seem to understand. “Wait,” he said slowly, “so you’ll definitely take on the challenge? You’re going to plan the wedding?”

“It won’t be cheap,” Isabelle said with a snort. “But from the look of your truck, I think you can afford it.”

“That’s right, what she said just now,” Isolde repeated. “We’ll do it, but it’s gonna cost you.”

❧

“She wasn’t kidding when she said it would cost me.”

Bobby sat across from Bliss at Richards on the Atchafalaya River. The food at the quaint local hangout was good enough to draw people more than four miles off the freeway, down a road so tiny that one car had to pull off the road to allow an oncoming vehicle to pass.

They’d been fortunate enough to snag a table overlooking the Atchafalaya River, but Bobby’s focus was elsewhere—a pity, considering the beautiful scenery and the excellent quality of the shrimp toast appetizer.

“But, hey, I’ve got a wedding planner, and that’s what counts,” he added.

“You’ve got two wedding planners,” Bliss reminded.

“Yeah, double the fun,” Bobby said with a grin. “Thank you for coming with me. I was lost after the first five minutes.” He paused. “Can you really tell the difference between ecru and off-white?”

“Oh, Bobby, is there really a difference between a chain saw and a table saw?”

“Point well taken.” He reached for his water glass and held it high. “To weddings,” he said.

“To weddings,” she repeated as their glasses clinked. Then she took a sip.

Their attentive waiter swooped in to refill their glasses. “Ah, you two are celebrating?”

“We are,” Bobby said. “I thought it was impossible, but it looks like there will be a wedding next month.”

“Next month. Congratulations.” He hurried off to the kitchen before Bobby could respond.

“Bobby, I think he thought we were planning a wedding.”

“We are,” he said, “or rather, I am.” Shrugging, he reached for a piece of shrimp toast. “I know I’ve said it more than once, but thank you for coming with me.”

“Enough. Despite what I’ve said to the contrary, I had nothing better to do today. Showing me this great little place for lunch is payment enough, all right?”

He ducked his head. “All right.”

“Good. Now that we agree, how about we change the subject?”

“I can do that. It has occurred to me that you know all about what’s happened with me since graduation.” Bobby set his fork down and rested his elbows on the table, turning his attention fully to Bliss. “But I don’t know more than a thing or two about you.”

“There’s not much to tell.”

“Oh, come on,” Bobby said. “I do know that you graduated with honors from LSU and ended up at the Bentley in Austin.”

“Yes,” she said cautiously, “that’s true.”

“And I know you opened the Cake Bake a little over two weeks ago.”

“True again.”

With those statements, Bobby exhausted the entire body of facts she felt comfortable discussing. With any luck, he’d missed the clue left by the sisters. The last thing she wanted to discuss was her health.

And yet, if he asked, she knew she would tell him. This was Bobby Tratelli, the chubby tagalong and persistent shadow who was now all grown up. She cut him a sideways glance. Yes indeed, he was all grown up.

“So, what happened in between?”

Thankfully, a gentleman with a large mustache and Elvis sideburns strolled up and settled into the chair between them. “I understand we have a wedding in the works,” he said as he toyed with the ends of his extensive but well-groomed facial hair.

“Yes,” Bobby said, “we have.” He glanced over at Bliss. “Bliss, this is our host, James Berlin. James, may I present Bliss Denison? She and I are childhood friends.”

“And I’ve known Bob since his cowboy days.”

“He was an extra on the movie I told you about.” Bobby elbowed James. “Now he fancies himself a restaurant owner.”

“Among other things.” James shook Bliss’s hand. “So, tell me. What does a lovely lady like you see in a fellow like Cowboy Bob here?”

“What?” She looked at Bobby. “Do you know what he’s talking about?”

Bobby chuckled. “James, I think you misunderstand. Amy’s getting married, not me.”

“Your baby girl? Impossible.”

“Sad but true. My baby girl’s vice president of Tratelli Aviation now, and much as I hate to admit it, in a few more years, she’s probably going to end up being a better pilot than her old man.”

“Is that possible?” James laughed. “What I don’t understand is how our children grow older and we don’t.”

“Let me know if you figure it out,” Bobby said.

Bliss’s phone rang, and instinctively she reached for it. “Would you two excuse me? This is my mother.”

“Of course,” James said.

“Tell her I’ll be back in the office soon.”

“Okay,” she said as she answered the phone.

“Bliss, are you all right?”

She cut a glance at the men, now engrossed in an animated conversation about a newborn colt. “I’m having lunch right now, Mama.”

“Well, can you step away from the table for a minute? I’ve got something to tell you that won’t wait.” Bliss moved to a quieter corner of the lobby. “All right, Mama, this better be good.”

“It’s good, all right.”

“Mama, please. Don’t you have to work?” She stepped farther back out of the way to let a trio of chattering customers pass. “Oh, and I understand congratulations are in order. Bobby said you struck a hard bargain before you agreed to work for him.”

“Pshaw, I would’ve done this job for nothing just to get out of the house, but I’d never admit that to him. Now let me tell you about Neecie before the phones start ringing again.”