Font Size:  

“Dinner will be ready in a few minutes,” Marisol said. “Marc why don’t you come in the kitchen and get something to drink for Charlotte.” His mother was giving him the eye and letting him know she wanted to talk with him in private.

Marc wanted to groan out loud. If his mother had something bad to say about Charlotte, he would be furious. She was coming into the situation with a bias against the Duvall family due to the events of a few years ago. His mother had been furious at the way he’d been gossiped about and slandered in Savannah. As his mother, of course Marisol had believed he’d gotten an unfair share of the blame for the Case and Fancy fiasco.

Regardless, it wouldn’t be fair to Charlotte to punish her for things that were out of her control. He just prayed his mother could view Charlotte on her own merits and not through a lens of judgement.

Marc followed her down the hall to the kitchen, bracing himself for the worst.

As soon as they reached the kitchen, Marisol turned toward him and said, “Why did you wait so long to bring Charlotte home to meet us? Oh, she’s such a lovely girl. All grace and charm, but not stuck up or snooty. And those flowers. I love a girl who knows the value of flowers, especially roses. Oh Marc, the two of you would have some really nice looking babies.”

Marc groaned and put his head in his hands. “Mama. Hush. You’re talking a mile a minute and I’m really afraid Charlotte will overhear you. Your voice does have a tendency to carry.”

She reached up and took his face between her palms. “Marc. I’m so thrilled for you. You’ve been through so much. Too much sadness. And now this wonderful woman has come into your life. I could almost do a jig right here in the kitchen.”

Marc shook his head. “Please don’t. We still have to sit down to dinner and I’m afraid Pop is going to get worn out.”

Marisol’s expression dimmed a little bit. “Tonight means the world to him. You know that, right?”

“Of course I do,” he said. “He’s been talking about it for days. You know he loves to have dinner guests.”

“That man is something else,” she said in a wistful tone. “As sick as he is, and with all he’s been through, he never complains, always thanks God for his blessings and greets the world with a smile.”

“They broke the mold when they made him,” Marc said. “Truthfully, I lucked out in the parent department. God sure did bless me.”

Marc watched his mother’s eyes pool with emotion. She rubbed at her eyes. “There you go again, making me cry.” Marisol untied her apron and waved it at Marc. “Shoo. Go on and sit with Charlotte and your father. Dinner will be ready in the shake of a lamb’s tail.”

As Marc entered the living room, the sight of his father sitting with Charlotte immediately drew his attention. They were talking with animated voices and their heads were close together as if they were sharing secrets. Marc enjoyed the sight of Charlotte laughing with abandon. His father was clearly enjoying Charlotte’s company. He heard his father say the words thumb and blanket along with his name.

“Seriously, Pop? Are you really telling her about how I sucked my thumb until I was five and brought my blankie to the first day of school?” Marc asked, shaking his head at his father.

Lucien shared a conspiratorial look with Charlotte. They both burst out laughing.

Lucien shrugged. “It’s a father’s prerogative.”

Charlotte grinned at Marc, clearly enjoying being in on the joke with his father. Marc couldn’t help but smile. Two of his favorite people in the world were enjoying a joke at his expense. More importantly, they were bonding and finding joy in each other’s company. Marc couldn’t have wished for a better sight to behold. Despite his father’s grave condition and dire prognosis, joy pulsed in this room.

The human spirit was indomitable. You could hurl the very worst at a person and they still stood tall and strong. They still embraced life.

He thought of one of his favorite passages from the Bible. “Weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning.” Yes, indeed. There was joy all around him.

* * *

Charlotte was in love with Lucien and Marisol Cabron. And if she wasn’t mistaken, she was falling in love with their son as well. Ever since she had walked into the Cabron’s home she’d been treated like a part of their extended family. They were gracious and kind and warm. Although Charlotte had detected a slight resistance in Marisol, she’d quickly warmed up. Charlotte wasn’t oblivious to the fact that the Cabron family had seen their son go through some really hard times due to his fiancée’s death and the fallout from his relationship with Fancy. They were bound to be protective of their son.

Within five minutes of Marc joining Charlotte and his father in the living room, Marisol called them to dinner. Over coquilles St. Jacques, French roasted chicken, arroz con pollo, shredded beef, corn bread and Nicoise salad, they got to know each other better. Charlotte discovered things about Marc she hadn’t yet known. He was an award winning swimmer who had almost made the Olympic team. Marisol had been a dancer and used to own a dance studio in Savannah. Lucien was a crime buff. He enjoyed watching crime television shows and trying to solve the mystery from his armchair.

They seemed fascinated about Savannah House. Charlotte couldn’t have chosen a better topic to discuss. She was all too happy to tell them about the renovations and the daily happenings at the resort. She told them a sweet story about a honeymooning couple who had mistakenly booked a smaller room rather than the honeymoon suite. By the time they arrived it was too late to upgrade them since the room was already booked out. As a surprise, the ladies had transformed another room into a honeymoon suite complete with breakfast in bed, champagne and chocolate.

“You’re more than welcome to drive out and visit. Morgan is head chef, as well as being a co-owner and one of my closest friends. She’s a fantastic chef. She’ll make you a fantastic meal while you’re there.” Charlotte heard the pride ring out in her voice. She loved Savannah House and she was happy to sing its praises.

“That would be lovely,” Marisol said. “We may take you up on that offer.”

“Please do,” Charlotte said with a smile. “I can’t help but notice the intricate pattern of this tablecloth.” Charlotte had been staring at the tablecloth since she’d sat down to dinner. She traced her finger across the lace. “It’s so unusual.”

Marisol looked over at her husband and smiled. “My mother-in-law gave this to me in Cuba. It’s French lace. Both Lucien and I have French roots, so Marc is both French and Cuban.”

“Interesting mix,” Charlotte said. No wonder Marc had such unique features. He was the perfect blend of two fascinating cultures. The food tonight had been sheer perfection and a reflection of both French and Cuban

cuisine.

Source: www.allfreenovel.com
Articles you may like