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“Hey, I’m sorry,” Alfonso said, sitting up. “That was rude of me.”

“You’re just fine,” she said. “I’m in heaven here in my recliner. There’s no problem at all.”

“Would you like to drive into New Orleans today? I feel like listening to some real music and eating some real food.”

“I’d love it,” she said. “Give me ten minutes to get dressed.”

“Can I get some of that before we leave?” He pointed to her crotch. “You’re so sexy. I’m falling in love with you, and all I can think of is your body.”

“Yes, you can absolutely have some of it,” she said, tickled. “Join me in the shower?”

“Love to,” he said, popping up from the couch. “Wow, how’d I get so lucky?”

It was the cry heard around Cypress Cove that night.

Epilogue

Forty days after Epiphany, celebration was in the air, there was no mistaking it. On Fat Tuesday, the day would begin with aFêtedes Rois,a huge community breakfast in the field behind the post office, next to the barn. Chefs manned a giant griddle, making eggs of every variety, ham and andouille sausage, waffles and pancakes. Crawfish, shrimp, catfish and every other gift from the sea covered another table. Fruit salads, rice fritters, grits, bakery items, including beignets, donuts, bagels, biscuits and more. Literally, afeast for a king.

After breakfast, activities for little children came next. Alphé, Katrina and Calista took the six Beaumont children to the craft tables and for the next hours immersed themselves in wreath-making, bead-stringing, mask-making and other Mardi Gras crafts.

When craft time finished, the children’s parade commenced, with the Beaumont children front and center with their three caregivers marching behind them. Lola stood on the sidelines, feeling a little guilty, but not enough to participate. Her children saw her there and waved excitedly that although she hadn’t participated, she’d made the effort to see them march, and that was enough.

“Look, there’s Mommy!” Angela yelled, and the others waved, little five-year-old Rumor confused but going with the flow. Mommy wasn’t around as much as she used to be, but there were other nice women caring for him.

“Grrrr,” Calista growled.

“Smile!” Katrina said through clenched teeth.

Alphé ignored Lola. “I wish she’d go back under her rock.”

In the month since their first meeting, Calista and Katrina had become each other’s lifeline. As much as she’d fought it, Katrina was enmeshed in the lives of Alphé’s children, worrying about them, supporting them, because she loved them. And Calista’s two, nine-year-old Porter and six-year-old Davina, were becoming important to her, as well.

Porter, Noel and Pris were the three musketeers, and Rumor and Davina, the twins from hell. Angela, fast becoming a teenager, loved them and protected them, but was slowly pulling away from the younger ones.

“Rumor and Davina shouldn’t be left alone,” Angela said. “I caught them with matches, trying to light a Barbie Doll’s hair on fire.”

“Those two will lay waste to the cove,” Alphé said, concerned. “Don’t let them out of your sight for a minute.”

Alphé took them out in the boat over the weekends to give everyone a break. On the water, they were different children: observant, interested, and quiet. They loved fishing, and Calista taught them how to clean and prepare the fish they caught.

But on Fat Tuesday, Alphé, Katrina and Calista were hosting a party for their neighbors and the families of their little friends. Soon, the long, narrow house and backyard were filled with children and their parents. Two folding tables groaned under the weight of the potluck dishes the guests brought, every Mardi Gras delicacy known to man.

After they ate, they returned to Main Street for more parades and partying.

The next-to-last parade was the horse parade. This year, Justin and Maggie, dressed up as famous people in French history, rode Spooky, leading the riders. Dressed up as a shirtless Louis XVI, Justin wore a white wig, and it took every ounce of self-control he was able to muster up not to laugh the entire time. Of course, Maggie was Marie Antoinette.

Joan of Arc, Napoléon and Victor Hugo were among the honored guests.

At the end of the parade, Justin and Maggie were named king and queen of the parade and would reign the rest of the day.

“Does this mean we can’t go home?” Justin whined as the photographer posed them for photos.

Maggie grabbed his hand and they laughed, wishing they could just get back on the horse and return to Bayou Cottage.

“Just think, Justy, someday we can show these pictures to our children. The time mom and dad were king and queen. Not everyone can say that.”

“Whose idea was this anyway?”

Source: www.allfreenovel.com
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