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“Ha! I agree. We’re on best behavior.”
“Because you’re worth it, and we all know I can get a little rambunctious when I’ve had a few under my belt.”
“Me too,” she admitted, leading him into the kitchen. “Coffee it is. Can I tell you about Dr. LeBlanc?”
“That’s my excuse for being here,” he said, sitting at her kitchen table.
She told him about Ted showing up, and then when she challenged him, he backed right down.
“It seems like he did the right thing, but there’s something going on with him that isn’t right. Now I have to go to work tomorrow, and who knows what will happen there? I’m a little leery, to tell you the truth.”
“Understandably. Do you feel that you’re unsafe there?”
“I’m not sure. We’re never really alone. His office people are there and his assistant, Gerald. And the clients.”
“What would the impact be if you quit?”
“I couldn’t finish school if I quit. As we all know, I’ve burned my bridge at your brother’s place, and I can’t work there, so Ted is my last hope.”
“Okay, well, that gives me some guidance how to handle it. I don’t want to rush over there and strangle the guy, but on the other hand, he needs to know that his behavior isn’t going to be tolerated. What I can do is tell him he was observed at the preservation meeting and I approached you about it. Is that okay?”
“Oh god, I don’t know,” she whined, wringing her hands. “I guess I can trust you to handle it without him taking aim at me.”
“If he does, you’ll have grounds to sue his ass, so yes, you can trust me.”
They drank coffee, looking at each other over their cups. Dave checked his watch.
“I’ve been here for twenty minutes. Have we waited long enough?” Dave asked.
“Yes,” Amber said. “More than enough.”
Chapter 6
On the Sunday after Thanksgiving, the town of Cypress Cove jumped into gear for preparations for Christmas, like a Dickens village on steroids, but in the heat. The buildings along Main Street—Café Delphine, Spencer’s Grocery, Casson Hardware, the Community Center formerly known as the First Methodist Church, the post office/train station/Western Union building, and of course, the dockmaster’s office/shack—all jumped on board when they received the notice.
Let’s make this Christmas in Cypress Cove the best Christmas yet! Decorations are to be over the top! We expect over 10,000 out-of-town visitors this year, according to the Parish Chamber of Commerce. Let’s not disappoint them!
No expense was spared with the lights and the greenery, much of it Spanish moss that aged better than pine roping, swagged everywhere, interspersed with sparkling fairy lights and red velvet ribbon.
Justin prepared to order the bimini top for Maggie’s skiff so there would be someplace she could hang decorations.
“I might just have to get a bigger boat,” she’d said, watching him measure for it. “But then I’d miss my grandfather’s presence. His hand held this tiller, too. I love knowing that his DNA might still be on this thing.”
She remembered Christmas in Cypress Cove as a child. The streets were packed with out-of-towners. The last two blocks of Main Street were cordoned off, and cabanas were set up in the street, food vendors of every kind, craftspeople, artists, souvenir sellers, face painters, a petting zoo, every attraction she could imagine. Holding Lonnie Langtry’s hand on one side and her father’s on the other, they walked up and down the aisles, buying whatever trinkets caught Maggie’s eye.
Then there was the lighted boat parade. She’d never forget it, the wonderful fantasy of lights that intrigued a child. They stood on the dock at Bayou Cottage, watching the lighted boats float by, one after the other, the passengers dressed up as elves or princesses or Santa and Mrs. Santa. Although she had stopped believing in Santa long before, there was just enough mystique in the boat parade to make her wonder if she might be mistaken.
“You’re really into your history, aren’t you?” Justin asked, interrupting her reverie.
“I am. It’s why I love living here so much. This was the family cottage. They didn’t just visit, they lived here, just like I’m doing. Now that my mother and aunt live in town, I guess that cinches it.”
“If you ever consent to marry me, I guess that means I’ll be living at Bayou Cottage, too.”
“Definitely. I want to raise my family here if I ever have one.”
“Oh, you’ll have one,” Justin said, looking at her with his dreamy eyes.
“Stop,” she said, laughing, but he only got closer to her. “How many kids do you want?”
