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His heart sank. His sister barely had the energy to breathe at the end, yet she had summoned enough strength to get up and drive Ivy to and from school each day.
He didn't know how he was going to pull it all together, but he'd figure it out.
The door opened, and Charlotte and several women walked in. They all crowded around her, patting Charlotte’s back, and telling her they would help with whatever they could. He wondered what had happened.
She drifted past him, looking slightly dazed, to a nearby table, pulling her lips into a smile that Bastien could see immediately didn't seem to reach her usually bright eyes.
He watched as one woman grabbed her arm and pulled her in for a hug before taking a seat. Charlotte slowly sank into the chair, looking forlorn, her eyes glossy and her brow furrowed. Was she grieving because of the funeral, or had something else happened?
He slowly stood and made his way over to them, unsure of what he would say when he got there. When he reached their table, he could only manage a soft, “Are you okay?”
“Heavens, yes.” She seemed to rise in her seat, and the taller she got, the brighter her smile became. “These are my friends.” She pointed to a beautiful woman with honey-colored hair. “This is Emmaline.” She pointed to the brunette in the group. “You probably know Marybeth. She's the minister's wife.” She nodded toward a stout woman with graying hair. “That's Tilly. She’s the chef at The Kessler.”
Cricket arrived and said, “You won't be able to remember them, but they call themselves the Fireflies.” She chuckled. “They like to think it's because they bring light in the dark, but it's because they're as pesky as any insect.”
He stepped back and half-bowed. “Nice to meet you, ladies. I'm Bastien Richmond, and for now, I'm living next door to Charlotte.”
“Who is single,” Marybeth added.
Bastien smiled. “So, I've heard.”
Charlotte rolled her eyes and gave her friends a pointed look. “I don't have time for romance,” she said firmly. “I already have enough problems in my life; I don't need to add any more by getting involved with someone.”
“Anything I can help with?” Bastien asked.
“You know how to fix flood damage?”
He shook his head. “I'm not what you'd call the handy type.”
Emmaline waved him off. “Then what good are you? A man who can't fix something is about as useful as tits on a boar.”
He chuckled. “I'll take my leave.” He was about to turn when he realized he still needed help. “Do any of you have kids in the school? I have to leave town for a bit, but I need to find a ride for Ivy to get to school.”
Charlotte raised her hand. “I can take her.”
Marybeth cleared her throat. “I volunteer at the library in the afternoon, so I can bring her home.”
“I'm happy to compensate you for time and gas,” Bastien said.
Tilly snickered. “You're not used to small towns, are you? We take care of our own.”
“No, I'm a city boy.” He was beginning to understand the concept of Southern hospitality and was thankful that his sister had chosen a place that was so welcoming.
“Not anymore. Now you're part of our family,” Tilly said.
Until that moment, he had one foot in and one out of Willow Bay. In New York, he didn't have a support system. He lived in a luxury condo with one bedroom. It technically had three, but one he'd turned into an office and one into a gym.
“I appreciate all your help. I feel like a fish out of water.”
Emmaline smiled. “You better get back to the lake, or Cricket will dip you in cornmeal, and you'll be the next blue plate special.”
“I'll take that as my cue,” he said.
“Not at all,” Charlotte said. “Y'all are welcome to join us.”
Emmaline shook her head. “Another time, maybe. We're interrogating her for information, and she's using you as a shield.”
“That's something I've never been used for. Other things, even money, yes … Shield? No.”
