Bare devotion, p.15
Bare Devotion, page 15
“I know.” Her acceptance made him stand up straighter. She’d noticed. Nothing else mattered. “So it stops with you, huh?”
“Yes.” As his chest swelled with the strength of an emotion he’d never experienced, he was certain. Nothing was more important to him than the future of his child. And Sonja, though he couldn’t, wouldn’t, tell her that now. He’d done enough talking over the last three years. It was time to show Sonja he was here for the long haul. “Remember when I went and talked to my folks last week?”
“Yes.”
“It was the first time I’d stopped in since the wedding. I had to clear the air with them. But they ended up doing most of the clearing, so to speak.” He relayed the conversation as briefly as possible. He didn’t want his parents intruding on his time with Sonja.
“And you believe them? You don’t think it’s just because the wedding didn’t happen that they’re appearing to have seen the light about their prejudice?”
“They weren’t pretending. Look, I’m not going to ever change them completely. But to be honest? I never thought they’d hit bottom over their behavior like they’re demonstrating. They think they’ve lost the only child who still speaks to them, and it was a bit of a wake-up call.”
They kept walking in an easy silence, and after another mile Sonja pointed at a covered picnic area about a half mile away. “Let’s stop there and eat our snacks.”
“Sure thing.”
He never thought he’d be enthusiastic about talking to a woman about such deep subjects all day long. Not about the Saints, or Mardi Gras, or the best place to eat a po’ boy. He could talk chick talk, before-we-have-sex talk, all day long. Digging deep and pulling out thorns that had been stuck in between the paws of his life? Nope. Never.
Until now, with Sonja.
* * * *
Sonja liked the simplicity of sitting on a picnic bench under a park gazebo with Henry. No work, no ruined wedding reminders, no ex-girlfriend stalking either of them. She relished being able to eat the sliced apple with almond butter and devoured her entire portion without speaking. As for his parents, she’d seen people figure out how their own ugly racism was hurting them and make a choice to change it. So the Boudreauxs were another couple who realized how wrong they’d been. She was happy for Henry’s sake, but it didn’t make a difference to her. Not anymore. What mattered was that she was talking to Henry about real things, and he was doing the same.
“You’re hungry. Maybe you need a meal?”
She looked up into his gaze, at once familiar and new. This was the new Henry, the one who wanted to talk about their lives, their histories. The man she’d seen in him when she’d fallen in love with him.
“No, it’s just that I think I’m constantly hungry underneath the morning sickness. So when I don’t feel like I’m going to be sick, all I can think about is eating. It’s like my body is possessed and all it can focus on is getting more food in my belly.” Until she got sick again, but that wasn’t happening right now, and she’d take it.
Henry sipped from his sport bottle. “I’m impressed with how much you’re changing and you’re barely pregnant.”
“No such thing as barely when it comes to being pregnant.”
“True. But you know what I meant. The hunger swings, the mood, ah, challenges.”
They both laughed.
He set his water bottle down, splayed his hands on the worn composite-material table. “We’ve never done this before.”
She looked around as he did, noting the other hikers and park goers enjoying their picnics. Several families occupied the other tables, as well as single, and pairs of, hikers. It was a mix of what she thought of as Louisiana, her home state. Americana at its best.
“No, we’ve always had linen covering the tables, haven’t we? Or we’ve been at a friend’s house, or eating our fancy delivered meals.” She shifted her weight on the hard bench. “In a lot of ways we were too successful, too soon.”
“I don’t agree. We earn what we’re worth.” His jaw set in classic Henry defense mode.
“Yes, we do earn what we’re worth. That’s not what I’m arguing. I’m not saying we didn’t work for our degrees, for the ability to pull in a good paycheck.” She fiddled with the plastic bag she’d packed her apple in. “I can’t help but think that if we’d had to wait a little longer to build a house, wait longer to afford my car”—she couldn’t point out his pickup, as it was the most frugal part of Henry—“that maybe we would have done more of this kind of thing. There wouldn’t have been so many distractions from getting to know the real ‘us.’”
He was quiet, his expression open.
“You don’t agree.”
He shook his head slowly. “I’m ambivalent on that one. I agree that we never slowed down enough to spend a day together like this. The closest we came was probably the movies, or streaming shows on TV. We’ve already figured out we didn’t share enough of ourselves.”
“Yeah.” She’d spilled about her family on the first part of their walk, now it was his turn. “How is the rest of your family doing—your brother and sister?”
He stretched his neck backward, his hands on his back, before he answered. “You know Brandon’s business is kaput, right?”
“Yes.” Poppy had told her as much—that the famous shipbuilder’s business had to shut down because Brandon and Henry’s childhood friend Jeb had flown the coop along with fifteen million dollars. Jeb had been the company’s CFO. All of the funds that had been wrapped up in Boats by Gus were gone. Brandon’s business produced flat-bottomed riverboats by the dozens and custom sailing yachts that netted upwards of a million dollars each. “I still can’t believe it’s all over, all gone. Or that Brandon didn’t have better safeguards around his company money.”
“Brandon says he wouldn’t change a thing at this point.” Henry looked troubled. “Poppy told you?”
“We talk about it, sure. She’s in love with Brandon, you know.”
“As he is with her. Maybe that’s why all this happened, to get them together.” He said it with the note of a death knell.
“Maybe.” She’d never heard Henry speak about fate this sincerely. “Is Brandon doing okay, though? Besides the good news about him and Poppy?”
“He’s fine financially—he got hired by one of the big guys downtown.” Henry named the area’s largest shipbuilder. “He’s fitting in well, save for having to ask permission to move forward on projects.” He laughed. “If there’s one thing my brother hates, it’s being told how to do anything.”
Sonja didn’t have to imagine. She was looking at a man who shared much of the same DNA. “And you like it when someone tells you how to do your job?” They worked very well together at the firm but had butted heads on various legal points, and Henry never went down without a decent struggle. Neither did she.
“Sure, I get grouchy when my father thinks the New Orleans office needs to be run a certain way, and I want to go the other.” She knew he referred to the pro bono work they wanted to accomplish together, in hopes of going nonprofit at some point. “But that’s to be expected. I do what I’m told, at least, I used to.” His gaze softened, and she had the feeling he wasn’t thinking about the firm.
“Did your father offer to let you make the firm pro bono out of guilt, do you think?”
“No idea. Partly. But I also think he’s tired of it. He and Mom seemed to be working through their own stuff. I think they want to retire, maybe start a new life for themselves.”
“I know you love pro bono as much as I do. You should go for it, even if we don’t decide to do it together.”
“I don’t want to talk about the office right now. And isn’t it telling that you never asked me what made my parents tick before?” He had a look of dissatisfaction that concerned her. Was he mad at himself about it?
“I always felt your relationship with your folks is just that. No way was I going to step in there.” She’d wondered if Hudson and Gloria had had a big old family fight about her and Henry, and the un-wedding, but couldn’t imagine the reserved couple doing anything but stating their twisted views on life in their usual detached manner.
“I thought you didn’t want to confront them about us because you didn’t want to lose your job, in the beginning.” Henry rubbed her shoulders, which she welcomed.
“That’s low, you know. And it’s not true. But it’s fair.” She’d deliberately stayed away from talking to Hudson Boudreaux about anything besides work, which she rarely had to since Henry was the communications link between the offices.
“So why didn’t you ever talk to at least Dad about it?”
“Because anything I said would only make it worse, at that time. I can’t speak for now, with the way you say they’ve come around.” She hoped it was true, for Henry’s sake. “They never approved of me as your life partner choice.” She ran her fingers along the edge of the table. The rough underside was a contrast to the smooth painted top. “People who don’t ‘approve’ of interracial, intercultural, or interreligious marriage aren’t going to change their minds because of anything I’d say. But I always hoped deep down, waaaay down deep”—she smiled at him for effect—“they’d come around at least by the time our kids came.”
“The grandchild fix.”
“Yes. It’s ironic, right? The marriage is off, but now they’ll have a grandchild from both of us.”
“They’ll get over it.” A shutter closed over his expression. His impatience with his parents had been obvious since the un-wedding day. “Or never see their grandchild.” He crushed his napkin in his hand, and she was glad it was only paper. He’d have torn his skin off if he’d been holding a bottle or can.
“What else is going on there? I mean, they showed up at the wedding. No matter their motives, that was a big step for them, right?”
He sighed. “Yeah, it was. Until Deidre showed up with them.”
“You said yourself that they’re clueless as to how obsessed she is. They were manipulated by her, is the way I see it.” The way she wanted to see it.
“You weren’t so forgiving of them before. What’s changed?” His head was tilted just slightly, and she fought from smoothing his hair back.
“I guess when they showed up at the rehearsal dinner I thought it was a big move for them. Looking back now, that is. That night, and a little bit the morning of the wedding, I really thought they were going to try to convince us both to call it off. Not just what they’d said to me. And I thought they’d be elated that we didn’t end up getting married, after all.
“To be fair, my grandmother thought that us getting married was asking for trouble, too.”
“Edwina? Aw, she’s just telling you that because she knows you’re in a rough spot.”
“Nope. She told me before the wedding. Before...” She waved her hand instead of saying the words again.
“Bullshit. She adores me.” He spoke with such confidence, his chest puffing like a hush puppy in six inches of grease. Sonja laughed, and got him to laugh, too.
“You’re right. She does like you. Always has.”
“Your folks, your whole family has been so nice to me.”
“Yes.” She didn’t want to talk about her family again, not today. They still weren’t done with discussing Henry’s. “How’s your sister?”
He scratched his head, put his cap back on. “No clue. She’s off in South America for some military exercise, but neither my folks or I, or Brandon, have heard from her.” Jena’s military work puzzled not only Henry, but his whole family.
“She sent the video message for the wedding.” It had shown only her face, with a bland white wall backdrop, as if from a hotel or military barracks.
“Yeah, but I think that was taped a week or two before we got it.” His pulse jumped on the side of his temple.
“You’re worried she’s not doing well.”
“I don’t know what to think. Brandon doesn’t, either. She’s supposed to be home next week, and we’re waiting to hear it from her that she’s all right.”
Something bothered him about his sister, but she didn’t want to push. Henry looked like he was really upset about Jena, and since they had enough to deal with she let it drop. The few times she’d met Jena, she’d enjoyed her sense of humor and admired her sense of strength. Henry’s sister had the Boudreaux stunning blue eyes, but unlike her brothers she was completely no-nonsense, always serious. Henry erred on the side of being too comedic at times, which drove Sonja nuts when they had a case to work on, but she loved it when they were alone. Or in bed.
Shit. The damned pregnancy hormones were trying to come marching in again.
Chapter 14
“Do you need anything more from me?” Alesia stood at the doorway of the conference room, her eyes all but popping out as she ogled the pile of wedding gifts heaped upon the sturdy table. They’d agreed to pull the presents from Brandon’s garage, where they’d stayed for the last several weeks. The office was the only space available to them that was large enough to handle the task, which they’d agreed to do after hours.
“We’re fine.” Both Henry and Sonja answered at the same time, and she looked at him, still surprised that he’d agreed to do this with her. As a team.
“Seriously, I can stay and make notes, so all you have to do is send the thank you notes when you’re ready to.” Alesia was so transparent Sonja almost laughed.
“We’re cool. See you in the morning.” Henry dismissed her.
“Bye.” She left, and Sonja heard the front door close tight behind her.
“It’s just us and this pile of stuff.” Henry seemed almost exuberant over the monumental task they’d decided to get through tonight. They’d agreed that before the baby’s first ultrasound, they wanted any last threads of their un-wedding cut and tossed. So they could start fresh as parents.
“We’ll get through it. Thank God most people gave us cash or cards.” She motioned to the large card collection box, bedecked with silver wedding-print paper and sparkling ribbons.
“You’re sure we have to send this all back?” He held up an electric grill cleaner, some kind of contraption with a motorized brush. “I’ve always wanted this.”
“Re-wrap, send back.” She pointed at the tubes of craft paper she’d purchased, along with shipping tape and permanent markers. “I’ll do the same with the gift cards and checks. Any cash, I’ll split with you, and we’ll write checks back to the guest.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She tossed a wadded piece of paper at him, satisfaction unfurling when it hit the side of his head. Henry laughed.
“Who would have thought going through the carnage of our wedding day would be so much fun?” His eyes sparkled, and his grin, holy shit his grin. Henry’s smile could light her up like Rockefeller Center’s Christmas tree in three seconds flat.
“If you’re trying to drive home the point that I jilted you and made your life a living hell, it’s working.” Yet, no tug of regret as she knew she would have felt only a week or two ago.
“It’s kind of scary how relaxed we are about this, isn’t it?”
She opened another card, read the sentiments. “I don’t know if relaxed is the right word. Take this card, from my auntie. She’s so sure we’re meant to be together, that nothing will tear us asunder.” Slowly she moved the card to the “done” pile, making note of the check that her paternal aunt had gifted them before placing it in the return envelope. She and Henry had agreed to a simple “thank you” and “we’re sorry it fell apart” message on a pre-printed card.
“She could be right.”
Sonja froze. “What the hell, Henry?”
“Whoa, chill. I don’t mean you ever have to marry me again. But think about it. We’re having a baby together, going to raise a kid. Together. That’s pretty biblical. As permanent as it gets.”
Warmth washed over her. Not heat, but a solid, reassuring warmth. Somehow, she and Henry would make this work.
* * * *
Henry never would have imagined that the monumental task of sending back nearly two hundred wedding gifts would be such a non-issue. But if anyone had told him he’d have fun doing it, he’d have assured them they’d lost their minds.
“Can you believe Poppy? She gave us a gift certificate to Beautiful Baby.” Bemusement coated Sonja’s voice.
He snuck a glance at her. Phew. No tears. The pregnancy had made her far more emotional than he’d ever seen her, even when she’d been a chocolate maniac before her periods.
“What’s that?” The name meant nothing to him.
“Only the most exclusive baby store in NOLA.” She laughed. “What if I’d opened this in front of you after the wedding, before I’d told you about the baby?”
“It didn’t work out that way, so no point worrying about it now.” He still had a twinge of regret that she’d not told him right away, the minute she’d suspected she was pregnant. It was time he couldn’t get back.
“Henry.” She stayed silent until he met her gaze. Her laughter had subsided to a soft smile, her mouth pouty. His cock immediately reacted, no matter how much he tried to think about boring shit.
“Yeah?”
“If I had to do it all over again, I would have told you right away.” She looked away. “That night, after our time together on the deck? I had a dream we’d made a baby. And we had, we did. I am so sorry I didn’t tell you then.”
“I am, too.” He used a razor knife to open a large shipping box and pulled out a smaller box filled with crystal cocktail glasses. “But it’s done. We can’t turn the clock back, and it’s probably best we can’t, right?”
