Acadian Waltz (18 page)

“Very funny. I
don’t need time away from John.”

Steve stood back
from my desk. “I think that is exactly what you need to get a little perspective
on the situation. You should take a night off from the wedding planning.” He
paused and placed his hands on his hips. “You could come out with me Friday
night. I’ll take you to one of the local karaoke bars in the Quarter and we can
get stupid drunk.”

“Fridays John
usually works all night and—”

“Perfect.” He
grabbed a pen from my desk. “This is my address in the Quarter. Come about
eight. We can walk from my place, and if you get too drunk you can pass out in
my spare bedroom.” He wrote down the address on a blue piece of paper and
handed it to me.

I reluctantly
took the paper from his hand. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to go.”

“I won’t take no
for an answer, Nora.”

I tucked the
paper into my scrub suit pocket. “You’re starting to sound like John.”

Steve arched his
gray eyebrows at me. “Girl, you need this more than I thought.”

Chapter 14

I arrived at St.
Rita’s on Thursday night for our Pre-Cana meeting to find Father Delacroix
working at his black walnut desk. When he saw me enter the office door, he
stood from his chair.

“I tried calling
you on your cell phone, Nora. John phoned ahead and said he got tied up at the
emergency room.”

I sighed and let
my shoulders fall forward. “I’m sorry. I thought he would be on time.”

He motioned to a
plain wooden chair across from his desk. “Why don’t you have a seat and we can
talk a bit. See if John joins us later, all right?”

“Fine, Father.”
I headed across the office and sat down.

“I ran into
Claire the other day.” Father Delacroix made himself comfortable in his chair.
“She seems very worried about you.”

“About me?” I
lightly chuckled. “I think she’s more worried about what everyone thinks of my
wedding, my wedding dress, what kind of food we serve at the reception, and
whether or not I will have a respectable number of bridesmaids by my side.”

He shook his
head. “Mothers, I think, are the worst part of weddings. I’ve seen perfectly
sane women go absolutely crazy when planning weddings. Don’t be ashamed to blow
off a little steam every now and then. Get away from it all. You need that.”

“Do I?” I asked,
surprised by his admission.

“Yes, I believe
you do.” He sat back in his chair and studied me for a moment. “I, ah, wanted
to talk to you about our first meeting. You mentioned your childhood friend,
Jean Marc Gaspard. You spoke fondly of him and how he has helped your uncle,
but I’m afraid I didn’t see that same appreciation in your fiancé’s eyes. John
seemed rather put off by the whole conversation. Was everything all right after
you two left here last week?”

I glanced down
at my purse in the chair beside me. “John made it quite clear that he thinks I
should put my past behind me and forget about the people in Manchac.”

“How do you feel
about that?”

When I looked
up, his large brown eyes were intently focused on me.

“You know, Nora,
I’ve seen a lot of couples come and go through these sessions, and I’m a pretty
good judge of who will make it and who won’t. But there are a lot of factors to
consider when discussing one’s future with someone. The first thing you inevitably
have to deal with is your past. You have to be willing to put it behind you in
order to move on, but in your case I don’t think you’ve done that quite yet.”

“I don’t
understand.”

“Tell me about
Jean Marc Gaspard,” he said in a soft voice. “How you really feel about him now
that John is not here to keep you from speaking the truth.”

“How I really
feel?” I casually smiled, hoping to appear untroubled. “Father Delacroix, Jean
Marc is an old family friend, nothing more. Other than those childhood encounters,
Jean Marc and I haven’t really spent any time together. With my uncle being
sick, he has been helping to take care of him, and I have to admit, initially I
thought him a bit a rude, but now I think we are on better terms.”

“How does your
uncle feel about John? I know Jack has been a pretty big influence in your life
since your father died, and I was wondering what he thinks about your impending
marriage.”

I fidgeted in my
chair as I thought of my uncle. “He doesn’t like John.”

“Why doesn’t he
like John?”

I placed my
purse in my lap. “My uncle has never really gotten to know John.”

Father Delacroix
rested his hands on his desk and sighed. “Nora, do you love John?”

My mouth fell
open. “Of course I love John. I wouldn’t be going through all of this if I didn’t
love him.”

“Yes, you
would,” Father Delacroix admitted with a grin. “I’m afraid you would hide your
true feelings from everyone, including yourself, in order to please your
mother, your stepfather, and satisfy your expectations.”

I rose from my
chair, clutching my purse in my hands. “I’m not hiding my feelings from
anyone.”

Father Delacroix
stood from his chair. “Nora, all I’m asking is for you to think about this
marriage. Ask yourself if this is what you want. You’re doing what your mother
and John want, but I don’t hear your voice coming through in any of this
wedding.” He waved his hand at me. “I’m sorry, but I’ve watched you grow up in
this church. I saw how much your father loved you, and I have to question if
this is what he would have wanted for you.”

“Whose side are
you on, Father? Shouldn’t you be encouraging me to be a good wife and mother
instead of trying to talk me out of marrying the only man who ever….” I stopped
myself.

“The only man
who ever what, Nora?” He gave me an encouraging smile. “The only man who ever
asked you to marry him. Is that what you were going to say?”

I placed my
purse strap over my shoulder. “I should go,” I mumbled.

“I’ve upset you
and that wasn’t my intention. Perhaps we should discuss something else.”

“Thank you,
Father, but I think I will go home now.” I bolted for the office door. “If John
shows up tell him I got tired and had to leave.” I stopped at the door as a
thought hit me. I slowly turned back to Father Delacroix. “Do you believe in
happiness, Father?”

He nodded. “Yes,
of course, Nora. I very much believe in happiness. That’s what I want for you.
I know it is what your father would have wanted, too. Do you understand?”

As I eyed Father
Delacroix, standing behind his desk and wearing his black uniform of faith, the
pain in my stomach eased.

“I understand.
Good-bye, Father.”

*     *     *

“You left!” John
howled later that night after he got home. “Father Delacroix told me you just
left. Nora, what is the matter with you?” He waved his arms about the kitchen
as he stood before me, still wearing his long white coat. “I was only half an
hour late, and by the time I got there you were gone. And I don’t know what you
said to Father Delacroix, but he was worried sick about you. He wanted me to
get here right away and check on you.”

I had a seat at
my kitchen table. “I was very tired and he seemed to think that all the stress
from the wedding was getting to me.”

“So?” John
shrugged. “I’m stressed about the wedding, too. But I don’t go around biting
everyone’s head off because of it.” He ran his hand through his hair. “Your
mother called me today. She says you’re not acting right. She wanted to talk to
me about getting you some medication. She thinks you’re depressed about
something. Are you depressed, Nora?”

My indignation
flared as I thought of my mother’s desire to pump me full of happy pills. “Are
you kidding me? Because my mother says I’m not acting right, you think I’m
depressed? Do I look depressed to you?” I shouted.

John backed away
from me. “I don’t know, Nora. You’ve been quiet as hell, you don’t want to make
any decisions about the wedding, and you have lost a good bit of weight. I’m
beginning to wonder if something is wrong with you.”

I was about to
rip into John with all the frustration I had been holding back for weeks, when
a funny thing happened; I realized he was right. There was something wrong with
me. I had been trying so hard to be the woman John desired and the daughter my
mother desperately wanted, that I had stopped being me. I could no longer
conform to everyone else’s expectations. It was time for me to fulfill my
desires and find the happiness that I deserved.

As quickly as it
had ignited, my wrath subsided, and a comforting calm settled over me. I stood
from my chair and went to John’s side.

“I’m sorry. I
shouldn’t have yelled at you like that. I know I haven’t been myself lately,
but that is going to change, I promise. Nothing is wrong with me, John, and I
don’t need any medication. I just need some time to sort out my head.”

John nodded as
he let out a long sigh. “I’m glad to hear it. I know we’ve had a bit of a
whirlwind romance, but I thought you were ready to take our relationship to the
next level.” He lowered his eyes to the stainless steel watch on his wrist.
“I’ve got to get back to the hospital. I’ll be home Saturday morning. We can
get together and talk about all of this then.”

“Sure, John.
Thank you for understanding.” I stood on my tiptoes and kissed his cheek.

He looked me
over with his wary gray eyes. “You need to put this unpredictable behavior
behind you as soon as possible, Nora. I don’t like you acting this way. It’s
not what I planned on.”

I cringed at the
mention of his plans, but my stomach remained unusually still, as if my body
comprehended something my mind had not yet grasped.

John gave me one
last hard glance and then stomped out of my kitchen. I observed his determined
gait as he headed toward the living room, and tried to imagine what kind of
future I would have with the reserved Dr. Blessing. The funny thing was, I
could not envision any future with John. I recalled my conversation with Father
Delacroix earlier in the evening, and his words about my father suddenly
resonated within me. Since this whole engagement fiasco had begun, I had never
once considered what my father would have thought of it. As I pondered what
kind of future my father would have wanted for me, and the kind of man he would
have deemed best for me to marry, I knew he would never have approved of John.
My father taught me that life was about passion. When you’re passionate about
something, then you know that your heart is in it for the long haul. And that,
I decided was the problem with Dr. John Blessing. My heart wasn’t with him; it
was with someone else.

Chapter 15

The following
night, I decided to take Steve up on his offer. Leaving the worries of the
wedding behind me, I strolled along Royal Street in the French Quarter to the
address Steve had given me. As I took in the old Creole cottages with their
large front shutters, wrought iron gates, and quaint doorways, I tried to think
back to the French Quarter of my youth, filled with so much mystery and
history. But most of the area had been lost to tacky T-shirt shops and
tourist-driven businesses. The old French Quarter used to be filled with
friendly neighbors and small businessmen serving a close-knit Bohemian
community of artists, musicians, and the generally odd. But commercialism had
replaced community in this small, never-changing part of the world, and just
when you thought progress could not affix itself to the brick and stucco of the
Vieux Carré, it did, and something once charming and comforting became cheap and
tawdry.

After ringing
the doorbell at the gated entrance to 1027 Royal Street, I waited patiently for
a buzzer to gain access to the narrow alleyway beyond, which would invariably
lead to a courtyard. Surrounding the courtyard would be a large house that had
probably been chopped into several small apartments. Many of the old homes in
the French Quarter had the same basic design, allowing residents protection
from all the noise that filled the Quarter day and night. Revelers who
descended on the city to drink themselves into oblivion would often forget
about the weary occupants of those Creole cottages. As I stood by waiting for
admittance, I saw a few of those revelers pass by me, go cups in hand, and a
little unsteady on their feet.

“Go Tigers!” a
man yelled as he walked past me, wearing a purple and gold football jersey.

I smiled and
then thanked the heavens above when the buzzer on the black gate finally rang.
I pushed the heavy gate open and made my way inside.

I was
immediately engulfed in darkness only broken here and there by lights placed
along the bricked walls beside me. I moved slowly through a tunnel with a
cement floor and rough-hewn rafters above. When I finally emerged from the
darkness, I discovered a small moonlit courtyard filled with people.

Wearing long,
white robes and holding candles, they were gathered near a two-tiered fountain
in the center of the courtyard. They stood in a semi-circle facing a man who
was wearing a crown of brown feathers. Hanging from the neck of this individual
I saw a gold medallion. As I tried to make out the strange symbol on the
medallion, I heard footsteps in the alleyway behind me.

“Nora,” a voice
said over my shoulder.

Steve came
alongside me, dressed in a pair of jeans and a red T-shirt.

I motioned to
the people in the courtyard. “What’s going on?”

He rolled his
blue eyes. “One of my wacky neighbors is having her cult meeting here tonight.”

“Cult meeting?”

Steve nodded to
the group. “Honey, we get all kinds in the Quarter these days. Last year my
neighbor next door belonged to this vampire cult until the landlord found out
they were killing chickens in his courtyard. This one is a little easier to
deal with. They just drink magic juice, get high, and see spirits.” He took my
arm. “Let’s get out of here before they try and recruit us.”