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Chapter 2
The soft yellow light from candles and antique lampshades did little to inspire Vic Chastain or improve his dour mood that afternoon. Rose had left for her daughter Maggie’s place after she’d unearthed Emily’s letters and cards and other reminders of Vic’s late wife along with her beautiful wedding dress. It was enough.
The memories flooded him. They had been married at the Benoits’ estate. The house, a huge white antebellum mansion, had been given to the historical society after old man Benoit’s death. It was now a historic site where the bodies of slaves had been buried. The family had lived and grown there, either ignorant of its history or in denial. Emily had hated it, and after the wedding, she’d never returned.
He would never forget the setting; the grounds had been prepared for a much bigger party than their small affair, with flowers in abundance and a table set up under a white canopy, groaning with food. Mr. Benoit had spared no expense for the nuptials of his only daughter.
Only immediate family had come to the wedding, so there had been eight people, including the bride and groom. Vic’s mother and father had worn Sunday clothes. Margaret Benoit had already purchased her mother-of-the-bride dress before the rape, and in Vic’s mind, the dress stood out. It was the color of alfalfa, a deep, translucent green. She’d had a matronly figure, but in that green dress, she’d looked beautiful, and Vic had struggled not to tell her, feeling that the color and the effort she’d put into her ensemble needed to be celebrated.
“Say nothing to her,” Emily had whispered when he confided in her. “She’ll turn it around and make it ugly.”
He had honored her wishes, but it was something he still regretted, thinking that if he’d made the effort, the rift within the family could have begun to heal.
“Do you have that effect on people?” Emily had asked, smoothing his hair off his forehead. “That your compliments will make everything okay?”
They were dancing in the great room at the lodge, his parents off to bed early that night.
“No, but it feels like extending any olive branches…”
“They should extend the olive branch to me, Vic. Try to remember that.”
It was a salient moment in their life together. They waited for a month, and then the first year. When Justin was born soon after that first anniversary, and Emily had sent them an announcement and nothing came forth from her family, it was over.
Their first home was the guest cottage on the property behind the lodge. Vic’s father, Beau Chastain, had been a horseman, and his dream had been to have his own clinic next to the stables. Some of the most famous racehorses in history had boarded there because of the reputation for excellence his father had gained over the years. He had groomed Vic to become a veterinarian, then Vic did the same thing with Justin, who ended up loving it. Emily would have been thrilled.
Justin took to animal husbandry right away, so they knew he’d be the veterinarian in the family and encouraged him to follow that path every step of the way. Dave cried at the birth of kittens, so a career in veterinary medicine was a no for him.
Talking of nothing else lately but their mother, Dave and Justin were on the cusp of learning the truth about Emily’s last hours. Hiding it hadn’t been an issue until the unfortunate exposure of the son she’d given up for adoption. If the secrets could just be left there, Vic thought it would be okay for them to remain in the dark.
Justin was asking more questions about Emily’s mental health, and now that Dave was sheriff in the parish, he had access to death records. The possibility that he would stumble across information about Emily’s cause of death was terrifying and might explode in Vic’s face.
After a satisfying morning with Maggie, Rose arrived home to find Vic in an agitated state.
“Why did you encourage me to go through all the stuff if it was going to upset you?”
“Rose, it’s not what you think. The boys have been digging around since Emily’s niece dropped her bomb about the rape and giving up the baby for adoption. I hate that people think exposing the business of others is okay. ‘I’ll just get my DNA tested and announce the horrible results to the entire world, not caring who they shake up.’”
“It seems cruel,” Rose said. “She didn’t give anyone a chance to withdraw. It was just ‘Guess what? Someone has a son, and they’ve lied about it for over thirty years.’”
At the bar, Vic opened a bottle of vodka. “I’m going to reveal something today that will hurt you and make you sad, but it has to be done. The boys are coming over around dinnertime. I’ll tell all of you then.”
“Oh, Vic, you need to tell them whatever it is alone. It’s personal, between the three of you. I’ll find out later. I was thinking of running by my aunt’s for dinner tonight.”
“I guess that means she’s staying with Val,” Vic said.
Supposedly, Elizabeth was so angry about Val fathering a child with Emily when Elizabeth was engaged to him years earlier that she had threatened to move back to Pensacola.
“Yes, she’s decided that since it happened in the past, she has to let it go.”
“Even though she was engaged to Val,” Vic said, disgusted. “I wonder if she knew the truth, that he’d raped Emily…”
“Yes. I suppose knowing the truth might have swayed her decision, but how do we know she’d believe the accusation? I just don’t know. I haven’t seen her since Bridget told the story.”
“Of course, go be with your aunt. You’re probably right. It will not be easy, what I have to say. The only reason I’ll say anything to you about it is because you were Emily’s childhood friend. I trust you not to share the information with Elizabeth or Val.”
“You have my word, although you’ve got my curiosity going,” Rose said. “I’m going to get cleaned up and head out. I smell pork frying, so the cook must be doing Mexican food tonight.”
“Yes, for the boys. Tacos.”
