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“Stop,” she said, laughing. “I’m serious.”
“I’m serious, too.”
“Like it’s charmed. I felt it when I came inside the first time, even with the gold-veined mirrored bathroom.”
“Ugh, that must have been awful,” Dave said, laughing. “Like a gas station bathroom.”
“Exactly. Now that I’m home, I can see the positive side of everything we’ve questioned, even your mother’s mental illness, if that’s what it was. If she was raped by Val Amotte and had a child she was forced to give up for adoption, it could account for her social anxiety. She had PTSD. You had said Justin blamed your father for not getting her help. It sounds like he did everything he could for her. It wasn’t his fault.”
“No, it wasn’t. I’ll talk to my brother. I couldn’t tell if he was okay when we left, but probably having heard she’d been raped is going to make it unsafe for Val Amotte to come near Bayou Cottage.”
“Invite your father and brother to have coffee with you tomorrow, without Rose. Maybe you can exert some influence over Justin.”
Staring out into the yard, Dave nodded. “I’ll do that. It’s time to get to the bottom of the family secret.”
“Sorry. I hoped the weekend would be peaceful and restorative,” Katrina said, laughing out loud. “Not!”
Dave’s phone beeped, an alert that the monitor had been activated. “Baby’s awake. I’ll get him.”
“If you don’t mind, I’m going to go in and lie down with him. I’m suddenly cross-eyed I’m so tired.”
“Okay, I’ll go with you.”
Back in the house with the bottle of milk she’d pumped and the wineglass and beer bottle, they teased each other.
“The beverages of the household.”
Barking out a laugh, some of Katrina’s old hutzpah returned, when the only answer was a scathing bit of sarcasm. She reached for the baby and climbed into bed, then lay on her side and hooked him up.
“As soon as he is finished nursing, I’m returning to my old, pre-Lent behavior.”
“Ah! You mean the Katrina I saw at Mardi Gras?” Dave asked.
“Um, do I remember her?” she asked, looking up at the ceiling. “Was she inebriated?”
Laughing, the couple told each other stories of pre-relationship behaviors that might show their heads from time to time in the near future.
“I couldn’t tell because I was probably drunk, too,” Dave answered. “I have a kid now, so I have to be careful not to do anything that would reflect poorly on him.”
“Right. I want him to be proud of me.”
“Me, too.” Dave’s phone beeped. “It’s my brother.”
“What’s up, buddy?”
“Dad just left,” Justin said. “I’m ticked off! Why in the hell did our father allow Val Amotte to move back to Cypress Cove? He should have run his ass out of town.”
“He was probably trying to protect our mother’s honor.” Dave winked at Katrina and left the room so she could nap.
“Maggie’s aunt is going to leave him, if what Rose said is true. That means we’ll have a loose cannon in town.”
“I wish I was a fly on the wall of the Amotte household right about now.”
***
Maggie’s aunt, Elizabeth Amotte né Bonnet, paced in the solarium of the mansion she shared with her husband of less than a year, Val Amotte. Ringing her hands, she reasoned that his betrayal was an act that took place so long ago she should just try to forget it and move on. It was easier said than done.
The turning point? The announcement that he was going to contact his son, the boy Emily Chastain had given up for adoption. Not wanting any part of it, Elizabeth had no choice. Val wasn’t giving her a choice. Grin and bear it, or leave.
