CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
“Beau, I can’t tell you when I’ve had so much fun,” laughed Esta. She tossed some more tinsel on the tree and stepped back to admire her work.
“Me too, Miss Esta,” he smiled. “In fact, I can’t believe you sit in that house all day long and do nothing with as much energy as you have.”
“Well, I don’t do nothing,” she frowned. Beau just stared at her, waiting. “I guess that is what I’m doing. Nothing. I think when the kids deserted me I sort of folded up on myself. That’s pathetic, isn’t it?”
“No, ma’am. It makes me want to take your son and daughter out back and teach ‘em a lesson but it’s not pathetic.”
“I don’t think I knew how much they truly hated me,” she said playing with the tinsel on the tree.
“I think they hate themselves, Miss Esta. Not you. I think you’re just easy to pin the blame on. I think their lives aren’t what they hoped and they’re miserable.”
“That’s a lot of insight for a young man,” she smiled.
“Don’t get mad at me but I had the boys do a little research on Eddie and Sheila.
Things aren’t going well for either one of them.
They’re in trouble with the IRS, their spouses have been cheating on them for years, their kids are a mess and they want to blame you for not giving them what they wanted.
“It seems to me that their problems are because they’ve given to their own children whatever they wanted. It’s sad to me but they’ve made their beds.”
“Thank you for telling me that. I always suspected as much. Well, this place is looking wonderful.”
“It is,” nodded Beau. “You know, Miss Esta, my brother Bridge, he’s going back to college after the break and I’m gonna need some help in here.”
“Aren’t you going back to school?” she asked.
“Miss Esta, I graduated five years ago and spent the next four years in the Army. I’m happy helping the family when I can but I could use some help here a few days a week. You got a lot of energy, Miss Esta. And you’ve got the right touch with the displays.”
“What are you asking me, Beau Couvillion?” she said with a side-eye.
“I’m asking if you’d come in for a few hours a day, a few days a week. Your pick. Your schedule. It would help me and let me pay attention to inventory and such.”
“And this would pay me a wage?” she asked.
“Yes, ma’am. You’d make an hourly wage and of course get a discount here at the store.”
She walked around the store, casually running her fingers over items, touching, feeling, smiling at the beautiful holiday displays they’d created together.
All these years of being alone, of being a lonely widow and now she finds a young man that she would have married in a heartbeat in her heyday. Beau Couvillion was kind, smart, funny, and a gentlemen.
More than that, he made her smile and feel alive. Not in a sexual way but in the way that an old person wants to feel alive. To feel needed. To feel cared for and wanted.
“You know, Beau, I think I just might like that,” she smiled. “Do you think you and the boys could get that old car of mine running good again? I could see if I can get my license back.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he smiled. “I’ll call Razor down at the shop and see if they can tow it in tomorrow.”
“That’d be just fine,” she smiled.
“Oh, and Miss Esta, I’ll be picking you up for Christmas eve mass and takin’ you to Mama and Daddy’s for dinner. They insist.”
“Are you making plans for me without my consent, Beau Couvillion?” she smirked.
“I guess I am, Miss Esta. Is that alright with you?”
“It is more than alright with me,” she said with a tear in her eye. “In another life, I wish you could have been my son or grandson, Beau.”
“Well, we can pretend in this life, Miss Esta.”
“I’m going to go wash up and use the toilet. I’ll be ready to go when I get back.” She disappeared into the backroom and suddenly, Matthew appeared.
“How did I do Uncle Matthew?” smiled Beau.
“Fine, Beau. Just fine. You’re a good man, son and that woman’s life will be forever changed because of you. You did good.”
“She’s amazing, Uncle Matthew. I hate what her kids have done to her.”
“Well, it’s best that you don’t mention them to her any longer. They’re out of her thoughts now, way in the back of her mind. You’ve brought her joy and peace, something she hasn’t had for a very long time. Well done, Beauregard.”
“Uncle Matthew,” he laughed, “I hate my full name.”
“I know,” he smirked. “But I love it.”
Matthew disappeared and then Esta walked out, still smiling with rosy cheeks and a kick in her step.
“Ready?” asked Beau.
“Ready, sweet Beau. I’m ready.”