Chapter 44
forty-four
GREER
From the driver’s seat of his Escalade, Jude skims his eyes down my sundress appreciatively.
“You look beautiful.” He leans over and whispers, “That dress makes me think of taking you to a corner for a quickie.”
I play slap at Jude’s shoulder, “You’re dreadful.”
I go back to playing an app on my phone to pass the time, but a green notification pops up on my phone, temporarily blocking the screen.
Aunt M
Just heard you aren’t coming tubing with us. You were welcome to bring Jude.
Greer
We have his nephews. They’ll get restless on a boat all day with nothing else to do.
Aunt M
I didn’t realize they were with you. I’d have brought over a lasagna. One of the neighbors told me what happened to poor Willa’s husband, but I thought their family wasn’t close.
Greer
We’ve had the boys since yesterday.
Aunt M
In that small apartment? Did the roof cave in yet?
Greer
My place is a pretty good size for a two bedroom, but it’s been a little chaotic.
Aunt M
Speaking of children, Allie didn’t come home for the holiday weekend. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?
Greer
No, I’m sorry. When I text her, I’m lucky to get a response at all.
I have no explanation to offer my aunt. It’s surreal that she’s gone through a breakup without telling me. Meanwhile, my boyfriend’s moved in, and I’m having a baby without a word to Allie. I don’t want to randomly text her and hope for a response.
The entire dynamic of my family has shifted.
I know, or at least hope, that it’s temporary.
It feels weird that I’m not going to the family barbecue, but other things are what’s important right now.
Jude’s been on the phone off and on with his sister to check in.
She has friends staying with her, but is telling Jude to keep the boys busy.
I think she needs time to fall apart without the kids there as witnesses.
Biting down my sadness, I tuck my phone away and ask, “I’m not overdressed, am I?”
Odin’s family owns a farm outside of town where the club spends the holidays. Until Jude mentioned the cookout is at their farm, I had no idea Odin was one of those Bordelons. You’d never know that Odin and his father Solomon are the richest men in the parish.
I turn around to check on the boys. They are riding quietly, their focus on handheld video games.
The chaotically packed bags Willa sent makes me worry about her.
I found their swim trunks, a dozen pairs of little boy underwear, and one set of clothes for each.
No pajamas or socks, but Jude’s old P.T.
shirts did the job. We ran to the store for the rest.
“I’m so glad you didn’t get rid of your SUV,” I admit.
“Think Fern will care if I leave it parked in the alleyway? I want to keep it close by in case there’s an emergency with the kids or something.”
“I doubt she’ll mind. When she saw me letting Hank out this morning, she asked if there was anything she could do to help.”
“Do they have horses?” Aiden interrupts.
“They’re in a barn a little bit away from where we’re going to be today,” Jude replies.
“Horses live in stables, Uncle Dude!” Braxton insists.
“Well, I stand corrected. You’re right. Horses live in stables.”
I look away from the boys to try to hide my laughter, but Jude notices and gives me a dirty look that promises later vengeance.
“Why couldn’t Hank come with us?” Braxton asks in that worried voice of his.
“Hank needs to nap.”
“Who’s going to watch to make sure his blood sugars are okay?” It’s an expected question from a child who lives with a diabetic, who sees but doesn’t quite understand yet.
“We checked his glucose before we left and gave him a special treat, remember?” I’ve been extra diligent with Hank’s medical care with all the changes this weekend. I’ve expected the boys to sneak him snacks, but they understand better than most children.
Braxton nods, satisfied with the answer.
He loves my little gremlin. Hank even slept between the boys last night, with his chin resting on Braxton.
I’m surprised Hank didn’t join me in bed, but he must sense that the five-year-old needs his comfort more than I do.
That being said, I think Hank is ready for some downtime.
Jude turns off the country road onto a long paved driveway. A painted sign with green lettering declares “Bordelon Farms. Established 1879. Private driveway, no entry.”
Double arched gates are closed, but a prospect is standing nearby. When he notices Jude in the car, he opens the ironwork entryway for us. “It reminds me of the military police at the base gates.”
“It’s harder to get into Bordelon Farms.”
You wouldn’t know it at a glance. Any safeguards are hidden. Well, except for the cameras. They’re glaringly obvious, posted around the gate.
Horses graze in a field on each side of the drive, a rail fence keeping them contained. “Guess they aren’t in a stable either,” Jude gloats.
The main house of the farm is a two-story farmhouse with a wraparound porch. Large, but not grand. With the comfort of familiarity, Jude parks next to a Tahoe.
Unlike many other types of farms, the nearest field is barely visible on the horizon. Farmers burn the land before harvesting sugar cane, making it necessary to have a large clearing around any structure.
A group of brothers are outside smoking, but they put out their cigarettes when they notice Jude unloading the kids.
As I’m collecting a wrapped dish from the trunk, Solomon approaches with a lazy smile.
His long gray hair is tied back. “Well, what do we have here? You get an old lady and come back with a passel of kids.”
Aiden pokes his head out from behind Jude’s long legs. “Do you have chickens?”
“And roosters. They’re in a pen in the back.”
“Chickens are dinosaurs,” Aiden informs us.
“Are they?” Solomon asks with exaggerated surprise.
The little man nods with all the wisdom of his three years, “The librarian read a book at story time.”
“Ah. So we’re having grilled dinosaurs for dinner then!
” Solomon decides leading us around the side of the house.
The view is so breathtaking that I freeze for a second to take it all in.
The tables are set up under the shadow of flowering magnolia trees.
At a distance, ducks swim in a man made lake.
A patch of sunflowers are growing as tall as a man, planted by the laid brick patio.
I’m still learning names, but it seems to be the same people who were at Jude’s patching-in party, just a smaller crowd.
The men are in typical biker wear of leather and denim, the ladies in jeans and tops.
“We have a prospect watching the water,” Solomon informs us, nodding to the boys.
Solomon crouches his lean body down. “You know it’s just about feeding time for the dinosaurs. Do you want to come help?”
Braxton points in the distance, where a man in a baseball hat is leading a horse into the stable. “Can we go see the horses too?”
“We sure can,” Solomon says pertly. “As long as your uncle is okay with it.”
All eyes are on Jude, and he nods his permission, “Go. Have fun. Remember your manners.”
God bless Solomon. He’s giving us a break from the kids.
It’s not that they’re bad or a burden in any way.
Two rambunctious children shrink the apartment's square footage to nothing. It’s a glimpse of what’s to come.
If their little tent takes up most of the walking space, I’m going to have to get creative with baby equipment.
Jude lays a proprietary hand on my back and leads me towards the cluster of tables and chairs. There’s something grounding about his touch, a reminder that I’ve got him.
Presh Bordelon is leaning over an assortment of foil pans and dishes, a cloth apron tied around her slim waist. Her hair is silver, shorn short and teased to the sky. “I was wondering when y’all were going to get here. I was ready to send out a search party.”
“Yeah, it’s a little hard getting out of the house with kids,” Jude apologizes.
Presh chuckles, “It’s not been that long since I’ve had my own at home that I’ve forgotten. Put that down wherever you want, hon.”
From a distance, a male voice calls out, “Band-Aid.” Jude turns, his face hardening.
Flinch approaches at a clipped pace, “Let's have a talk, brother.” The two walk right out of earshot before Flinch starts gesturing emphatically while explaining something to Jude.
After placing the dish on the table, I wipe my sweaty palms down my dress and try to pretend that I’m not watching. Couyon’s old lady greets me with a hug, then leads me to a nearby table. “We were worried you wouldn’t show up.”
Darcy’s in a nylon folding chair nearby, raising a drink to her lips. “Hey, you.”
I lean down to hug her and remark, “Your bump is so adorable.” She's one of those women who you can’t tell are pregnant from the back. I can only hope to be so lucky.
“I’m going to have to buy a new wedding dress. I’m showing faster than I did with Owen.” She rubs a hand over her bump. “Little man is going to be big like his father.”
“Where is Owen anyway?” I ask.
“Inside sleeping with Gris-Gris. I have the video monitor to watch him.”
“Greer, do you want a drink?” Sutton calls over the music.
I should have expected to dodge alcohol tonight. At Jude’s patching in, I carried around a plastic cup of soda. Everybody assumed it was a mixed drink.
Darcy picks up a pitcher from the side table next to her and pours the frozen concoction into a plastic cup, then refills her own. She hands it to me, takes a purposeful sip, and winks to tell me it's non alcoholic. Guess there’s no hiding a pregnancy from an expectant mother.
“She already has one,” Darcy answers.
I mouth “thank you,” then sneak a glance at Jude. There are a lot of angry gestures. All I can hear is Jude declare a furious, “My nephews are here.”
Flinch shakes his head, dissatisfied.