Page 72 of The Cajun Doctor

Lily Beth put her hands on her belly and blinked away tears. “Thank you. I was worried,” she whispered. Then, in a louder voice, “Does that mean I don’t have to see an obstetrician?”

“Of course you’ll have to see an obstetrician, but you should be okay for a few days. Providing the urine analysis and blood tests come back okay.”

Lily Beth nodded and shimmied her rump off the table. “I’ll dry those,” she offered to Angus. The two of them hugged in apparent relief over Daniel’s diagnosis.

Samantha moved out of the doorway and went over to Daniel who was putting the vials and the urine container in a small insulated bag with blue ice. She told him, “Luc and John LeDeux will be here at two o’clock, if that’s all right.”

Daniel glanced up, then did a double take. He must not have realized she’d been back for the past five minutes or so. Scanning her body, and its scanty attire, he whistled softly and told her, “In the meantime, you and I are going for a ride.”

At first, she felt a little thrill of excitement ripple over her, but then he added, “We’re going shopping.”

Her initial disappointment faded as she reminded herself, shopping could be exciting, too. “Shopping for what?”

“A fridge,” he said. “And maybe a bed. And groceries. But first I have to drop off these blood vials and urine sample.”

“All that in less than five hours? Remember, we have to be back here by two.”

“How long could it take to buy a fridge and a bed? Don’t they sell them both in the same place?”

“Are you kidding? When I shop, I usually have to hit at least three stores, to compare styles. For a fridge alone. For a bedroom set? Goodness! Maybe five stores.”

“Five stores! What’s to compare? A fridge is a fridge, and a bed is a bed.”

“That is man thinking.”

A short time later, they had been about to enter Daniel’s SUV when Daniel said, “Oh, I forgot. Wait here a minute. I need to get something from Aaron’s office.” She enjoyed the sun while she waited, basking in its warmth and the smell of the myriad flowers that abounded here. Magnolia, bougainvillea, even the fecund scent of the bayou which was more than two hundred yards away, beyond the wide lawn, across a narrow one-lane road. At one time, flatboats would have docked here to pick up the sugar cane for market.

When Daniel returned, he shoved a binder into her hands. “Check this out. It’s a list of furniture and stuff left in storage by the previous owner. There’s not a lot, but some of it looks valuable.”

“What? How could you have forgotten something so important? Men!”

He shrugged.

Once they were inside Daniel’s SUV and were on their way, the AC a welcome pleasure, she opened the binder. There were lists, as well as photographs of furniture and accessories, like mirrors and a few paintings. Even some sepia-toned photographs of the original house and how it had looked back in the 1800s.

“Daniel! This is amazing. Wonderful! How could you . . . or Aaron . . . have bought that modern bedroom set when you have such treasures. This mansion is better suited to antiques, not IKEA assembly line stuff.”

“We needed some furniture right away. I have a matching, smaller bedroom set in my apartment. What do we know about antiques? As far as I’m concerned, a Chippendale is a dancer.”

She smiled. “I can help you, or you could hire a designer to come in and give you advice.”

“All of that costs big bucks, and this renovation is a money pit, as it is.”

“It doesn’t have to be done all at once. You have years to furnish the place, but it’s best to use the historically accurate pieces you have, or buy antiques, one at a time.”

“You’re assuming I . . . we . . . are going to keep this place that long.”

“You aren’t?”

“I have no idea what I’ll be doing next week, let alone next year. And Aaron’s not much better.”

“I thought you said that you like the bayou, that you feel at home here.”

“That’s not exactly what I said. But, yeah, I suspect we’ll stay in this region. I’m just not sure that we’ll keep this plantation, though. It was a looney tunes idea of Aaron’s, to begin with. And, honestly, I can’t see myself involved in an animal enterprise, nor Tante Lulu’s push for me to become a country GP. And spending my time antiquing doesn’t appeal, either. I know, I know, you’re thinking I have lots of free time since I gave up medicine. Still . . .” He shrugged.

“Here’s what I suggest for today. Buy the fridge, if you need it, and a full-size mattress and box spring to fit this bedroom set.” She pointed to a picture of an ornately carved, rice post bed frame, an armoire, a dresser, and a dry sink. “You can have someone deliver the items you want now out of your storage space. And while they’re there, they could also bring these two mirrors. Everything else . . . pictures, parlor and dining room furniture . . . leave in storage until the sanding and painting is completed.”

“Sounds like a plan.”