Page 46 of The Cajun Doctor

“You heard me.” She put both hands on her hips. “You’re too old for this stuff, Angus. When are you going to grow up? Yeah, we have a dysfunctional family, but so does half the world. It’s time you stopped dallying around and straightened up. Stay in college, get a degree, or another degree, or get a job and work, for a change. Life is boring sometimes. So the hell what!”

“Holy shit!” Clarence interjected, as if for emphasis.

Angus shuffled off, out of the room, but over his shoulder he remarked, “Nick’s right. You can be a bitch.”

Chapter Ten

Sometimes a gal just needs a hero . . .

Whoa, whoa, whoa! “What did you say?” She rushed after Angus, forcing him to turn, halfway up the stairs, and face her. “Did you mention Nick?”

“Um.” The guilty expression on his face was telling.

“You know my ex-husband?”

“Oh, I know the dude all right.”

“Nick the Prick?”

“Definitely.”

“Holy shit!” Clarence remarked.

My sentiments exactly. The fine hairs stood up on the back of her neck. As far as she knew, the only time Angus would have met Nick was at their wedding, more than ten years ago, and he had only been about thirteen then. “What the hell is going on?”

“Stop yelling, Sam! If you must know, Nick is the cause of all our troubles. Or most of them.”

On that ominous note, Angus continued climbing the stairs, wearily.

Axel approached Samantha then, carrying his food dish in his mouth. A hint if she ever saw one. She fed the animals (her pantry was loaded with various types of pet food) and cleaned the cats’ and Emily’s litter boxes, the puppy crate, and the birdcage. When she was done, she sprayed the areas with Lysol, and to her nose, at least, her house smelled fresh.

Afterward, she went into the kitchen to open a can of Starr chicken noodle soup and make a few ham and cheese sandwiches on one of Starr’s new artisan whole grain breads. The pups and Emily, drowsy now that their stomachs were full, went to their various crates to snooze. Axel, Maddie, and the two other cats sat at her feet waiting for some food to drop. Which it did. She couldn’t resist dropping some scraps of thin-sliced ham or strips of Swiss cheese for them. Axel even liked mustard on his, especially the whole seed, wine-infused condiment imported from Ireland. Pub mustard, they called it.

It shouldn’t have been a surprise to her when she clicked on the answering machine on the counter and heard Nick’s voice. “Sam, is Angus there? Have you heard from him? The minute he contacts you, I expect you to call me. D’hear? It’s important. That piece of shit relative of yours . . .” He paused and when he continued, his voice was calmer. “Just tell that stepbrother of yours, or whatever the hell he is, that I’m not angry. He just needs to come back to my office so we can resolve . . . things. He and Lily Beth, both.”

Yeah, right. He wasn’t angry. More like flaming furious. Samantha could practically hear the phone lines sizzle.

She had a lot to think about.

Finally, Angus and Lily Beth returned, walking into the kitchen together, both looking much better, though worried and exhausted. The white T-shirt, with the Krewe of Rex, Mardi Gras letters in the traditional purple, green, and gold colors, fit Angus perfectly; Samantha had bought it for a sleep shirt last year. He’d pulled his long blond hair off his face with what Samantha recognized as one of her elastic ponytail holders.

Lily Beth’s belly strained against the oversized shirt and elastic-waisted running shorts Samantha had given her, but at least they fit. She, too, had pulled her blonde hair back into a ponytail.

They looked so young.

Sitting at the counter, the two ate voraciously, accompanied by all the two percent milk Samantha had in the fridge and then a pitcher of sweet tea. They even devoured the generous slice of Tante Lulu’s Peachy Praline Cobbler Cake which Samantha had brought back from the plantation for her bedtime snack.

Samantha had shooed the animals back into the sunroom and set up a child gate so that Angus and Lily Beth could eat in peace.

“So, y’all own the Starr grocery stores?” Lily Beth commented as she licked the last bit of icing off her fork.

Samantha gave Angus a dirty look. Had he been bragging about the family wealth . . . even as he was poor as a church mouse? And was Lily Beth with him because she thought he had hidden assets? “Not us precisely. It’s a family enterprise, and we’re a big family. We all work in the stores or the main office, or at least some of us do.” She gave Angus a meaningful frown at that last.

“I love the fruit tarts they sell in the Starr bakeries. Every birthday, growin’ up, I asked mah mother fer a fruit tart, instead of a traditional birthday cake.”

Not a gold digger then, Samantha decided. She’d just been making conversation. “I know,” she said, “The fruit tarts are my favorite, too. Next to the Chocolate Domes.”

“Oh! Yes!”