Chapter 32
32
THE NEXT AFTERNOON I found myself caught by a jazz funeral procession. Very fitting since I was on my way to pay my last respects to the Vieux Carré Café.
I stood on the slate sidewalk, taking in the glossy black carriage hearse pulled by two gray horses. It rolled past at a gentle pace. A full brass band, including drums, strolled with the funeral goers, filling the air with a swinging rendition of “I’ll Fly Away.” Those following on foot wore black, some waving white handkerchiefs, others bobbing decorated second-line umbrellas, and still others dipping regular umbrellas up and down. Despite the loss and tears, those mourning also radiated joy, seemingly knowing the heavenly destination of the loved one they’d lost.
The direction of the procession indicated the mourners headed to the St. Louis Cemetery, five blocks away. I prayed for those walking past, that they would have the peace flowing through my veins. God’s inexplicable peace that made no sense. But I knew not to question or prod at it. Just to float in the precious gift from above.
With the last of the funeral gone by, I crossed the street and stood before the one-story building that had consumed my life the previous four months. That in some ways, I was ashamed to admit, had become an idol. It would officially go on the market in nine days. Behind me, the occasional vehicle drove down the narrow, one-way road, leaving exhaust fumes in their wake. Being a lazy Sunday afternoon, the normal hustle and bustle in this area had eased to more of a trickle. Unlike the last time I’d stood here, my reflection in the dingy glass of the front doors now gave the appearance of a woman sure of her next steps, and happy to take them.
A shadow moved inside, and I startled. Someone meandered along the back wall, near the antique bakery display case. I pressed right up on the glass inlaid in the wooden door, cupping my hands to my eyes. The lights flickered on, revealing Mrs. Adélaide.
What in the world?
She stared at me, the excitement on her wrinkled face giving the impression she was not surprised to find me leering through the windows of the long-closed French patisserie.
I inhaled in understanding, my hand covering my parted lips. Her Cajun French heritage. This French bakery. The fact she’d become a regular customer at Beignets & Books around the same time as the Vieux Carré Café closing.
She shuffled across the tiny black and white hexagonal floor tiles and opened the door.
My fingers dropped from my face. “You own the Vieux Carré Café?”
“ Oui .” She waved me in with a chuckle. “Though now, it’s jus’ the structure.”
I nodded robotically and entered, disbelief sputtering through me. Like last time, the stale air held a trace of espresso.
“Still. I like to come and allow the place to breathe from time to time.” She left the front door wide open and moved past me to the old French doors leading to the side courtyard.
I awoke from my stupor. “Please, let me. When I was here before, they stuck.” My heels clicked against the tile, emitting a light echo. With a gentle shove, I opened both doors and took a step outside, still trying to grasp this odd turn of events.
“ Merci .” Mrs. Adélaide lingered in the doorway, taking everything in, from the large courtyard to the building across the street. The second and third floors there boasted charming wrought-iron railings. Such a quintessential French Quarter view.
My gaze lifted to the huge southern magnolia standing sentinel over the space. “You’d said Cést Fou had taken up in your magnolia tree long ago.” I’d assumed it was the magnolia at her home.
She nodded and motioned grandly to the area, the skin beneath her arms wobbling. “Half of my seating was out here. Imagine having to come out each morning and clean this. I had to cover the tables and chairs every night. Such a mess.”
No wonder she hated that bird so much.
For a moment she closed her eyes, taking in and releasing a deep breath. “Other than letting some life inside, I was stopping by to say good-bye.”
“So was I.”
Her brows drew together behind her thick glasses. “My agent told me you were one of the parties interested.”
“I was. But I can’t afford it. And if I could ... the timing’s not right.”
Mrs. Adalaide’s expression became reflective, and she slowly retreated indoors.
I followed and moved toward the gem of the empty room, running my fingers across the bakery case. Not a speck of dust resulted from my indulgence.
“Are you sure you won’t put in an offer?” Mrs. Adélaide wrung her hands over her soft middle. “You’re such a good business owner. The way you pitch in. Bussing tables, unclog ging toilets, encouraging your employees ... caring for them. You could jus’ sit in your office and distance yourself, but you don’t.” Her expression turned earnest. “And you care for your mawmaw’s place. Take such tender care of it, inside and out. Dat’s the kind of person I want taking care of my place.”
My cheeks warmed. If Mrs. Adélaide expressed so much praise, I knew I’d done Mawmaw proud too. And Claire. I pressed my lips together, tamping down my growing smile. “Thank you for your lovely words.” I laid a hand to my heart. “They mean more than you could know. But I’m certain I can’t open another location right now. It’s not where the Lord’s leading me.” My attention lingered on the curved ceiling, trailing one last time to the French doors. The moment had arrived to let this property go. And it was well with my soul to do so. “I’ll be praying God’s will with who does get this place and peace for you with that decision.”
Mrs. Adélaide’s mouth twisted, and she studied me. It seemed perhaps it wasn’t so well with her soul to have me out of the running. But goodness knew there would be interest outside of Ryan. My parents would probably buy the building and sit on it, merely to exact their revenge on him.
A tiny prickle of worry had my gaze sliding to the side. “Would you be open to selling me the bakery display? Unless you plan to keep the piece for yourself, I think it’d be a wonderful addition to Beignets & Books.”
“ Oui .” The wrinkles bracketing her mouth and eyes deepened with fondness. “I would like dat.”
Mr. Gary’s gaudy BBQ pit sat in the middle of my beautiful courtyard. Making the metal monstrosity somewhat bearable was the incredibly hot man standing before it. Micah tended the grill. Despite only half of the burners working, smoke billowed, and flames sizzled the meat. Thankfully the eyesore would remain hidden behind the shed when not in use.
Micah had insisted that on the Fourth of July, one needed to indulge in hamburgers and hot dogs, along with potato salad and baked beans. I’d quickly volunteered to provide the baked beans and had just come from upstairs with them. The serving bowl, covered in foil, was warm in my hands.
With Renee and her family spending the holiday out of town, we were a small gathering of four. And since Mr. Gary couldn’t handle the stairs to my place, we were dining down here. If the summer heat proved too much, we’d head inside the café. But thankfully the skies had been overcast. Hayley and Mr. Gary sat at the table, a deck of cards between them. Today began her first lesson in poker. I smiled, not only for their budding relationship but also because I’d instituted a chip-only betting rule.
Micah turned from the grill, a long metal spatula in his hand. “Look at you cooking.” The amount of flirtation in his voice was shameless.
I set the beans on the table. “I’ll have you know I used two kitchen appliances.”
Hayley snorted. “I don’t think a can opener counts as an appliance.”
Mr. Gary chuckled, rearranging the cards in his hand.
The back door to the café yawned open, Mrs. Adélaide appearing, dressed as though she were Uncle Sam’s wife. “I thought I saw some people back here.”
With a smile I approached, taking the steps up to the porch. “Happy Fourth of July.”
“To you too.” She waved at everyone, a set of red, white, and blue bracelets jangling on her wrist.
“Would you like to join us? We’ve got plenty of food.”
“ Merci , but no. I have plans. I jus’ stopped by to say I decided not to put de Vieux Carré Café on de market.”
I blinked, every coherent thought tumbling from my mind. “I ... I don’t ... understand. Why?”
“Sometimes de timing’s jus’ no’ right.” She winked. “I decide to wait for de right person to buy.”
“Oh, Mrs. Adélaide.” My stomach sank, and I wrung my hands. “I’d hate for you to miss this opportunity.” Ryan dropped into my mind, the dots connecting to what this meant for him and the loss of his job. A smidgen of compassion arose. “I don’t even know if I’ll ever expand to another location.”
“Dat’s for true.” She reached across the space between us and patted my arm. “Only God knows what de future holds. You see, I been praying for a long time on what to do wit’ dat building and got tired of waiting on God. So, thinking I know best, I put it up for sale. Well”—she chuckled lightly—“dat obviously didn’t sit right wit’ God, and He’s let me know.” She tapped her fist to her chest. “So now I wait.” Her gaze turned heavenward, her eyes practically sparkling behind her glasses, matching her grin. “He’ll show me what to do wit’ de building in His perfect timing.” And with that, she left.
I stood, my mouth agape, watching her retreating form through the glass in the door. Gently, a euphoric type of wonder whispered over me. What are You up to, Lord?
“Mom!” Hayley called out. “Food’s ready.”
Breath catching, joy expanded through my heart, nearly bursting through my ribs. “Coming.” With a smile as vast as the Mississippi, I was certain I floated down the steps. I took a seat next to Micah, and he said grace over the food spread before us. As Hayley and Mr. Gary busied themselves making their plates, I leaned toward Micah, my mouth to his ear. “I love you, Micah Guidry.”
He pulled back just enough to gaze at me, a smile on his lips. He pressed a kiss to my cheek and lingered. “I love you, Kate Landry.”
Hayley made a gagging noise. “Y’all promised no PDA.”
Laughter rang around the table.
For so long, I’d thought my dreams were planned, framed, and hanging on a wall, ready to check off one at a time. But my true dream had been a part of my heart before I’d even realized it was there. And my heart wanted a life centered on God’s peace, with Hayley, and now Micah. Anything good that came after that would be God lagniappe.