Gabriel mixed the mound of red beans atop the rice, the creamy gravy barely visible. The night before, Rosette and Alcee had sifted through them to remove small pieces of rock or hard mud that sometimes hid in them. After scraping the beans into the pot, Rosette covered them with water. Alcee used to say they got “fat” overnight. This morning, Rosette drained the old water, started with fresh water, onions, and spices, and then cooked them for most of the day.
While his mother, the dressmaker, and the builder shared stories about strange occurrences during Carnival, a conversation that could go on for years, Gabriel leaned over to Alcee and said, “I am sorry if I spoiled the day you were to spend with Maman. I can explain later.”
“How much later?”
“Hmm. When you are twenty?”
“Maman looks like she thinks she might be twenty again.”
At first, Gabriel thought his sister’s over-dramatizing was a result of her reading Mansfield Park. The wretched treatment of poor orphans made for highly impassioned and sob-wracked voice scenes in the parlor. She told Gabriel and her mother that “happily ever after” challenged her acting skills.
Rosette had remarked, “Exactly.” But Alcee continued playing the suffering heroine and pleading with Rosette for permission to quit school to perform. Their palaver one particular night sent Gabriel back to the quiet of his garçonnière. They continued to quibble, but not with regularity. Rosette told Alcee she could act by pretending she liked school.
But he watched his mother across the table and noticed the shift in the brightness of her eyes when she spoke to Joubert and the dressmaker, the natural smile for one, the polite smile for the other. Gabriel waited for an opportunity to join the conversation, which kindly presented itself when Rosette went to the pantry for dessert plates.
“Excuse me. I will see if I can be of help to Maman.” Alcee kicked Gabriel ever so slightly under the table before she left.
“Monsieur Joubert, did you escort Madame Barrier here?”
The builder looked across the table at the dressmaker. “No. No. Of course…” He smiled then continued. “Of course, I offered to escort her home.”
Madame Barrier nodded. “He is very kind, especially since…since Monsieur Barrier is no longer with me.” She withdrew a lacy handkerchief from one of her long sleeves, patted her eyes dry, then pushed it back into her sleeve.
“Monsieur Joubert, I wasn’t aware Rosette knew any builders,” said Gabriel.
“I am here because your mother and I talked at the café about the possibility of bringing the kitchen to the house. Many homes have been safely remodeled to do this, and it seemed an idea that would be of great help to her.”
Rosette walked in, holding a tray of Dresden cups and the coffee service. Alcee followed with dessert plates.
“Gabriel, remember how we talked about the Gallier home and the indoor kitchen?” Rosette walked to the sideboard for the sugar bowl.
He wanted to say that they had discussed a number of houses for a number of different reasons. But tonight was not the night. “Yes, I do recall that conversation.”
“When Monsieur Joubert showed me how we could increase our business at the café with simply a few changes”—she stopped to smile at the builder as she passed him a cup of coffee—“that’s when I asked about our kitchen.”
Gabriel prepared himself. Witnessing his mother’s demeanor around Monsieur Joubert, he suspected the café might not be the only change at the Girod household. He hoped Rosette understood that most all renovations required tearing down the old to accommodate the new. And it couldn’t be one brick at a time. He passed Alcee his empty bowl and waited for the next cup of coffee.
Joubert had the muscles for the job. But did he have the heart?
Chapter Sixteen
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Though considered mild by anyone north of New Orleans, the winter brought enough of a chill to warrant velvets, cloaks, and fireplaces. Business increased in the café as the aroma of the calas mingled with the café au lait and lured customers in to warm themselves and wrap their hands around the steaming mugs. Sundays before and after the masses at the Cathedral were especially busy.
The morning after dinner with their guests, Gabriel looked around the café at the scattered groups standing near tables and admitted that having more seats would be of benefit.
As he bent to pick up empty cups and plates from a table, Gabriel felt a tap on his shoulder. A bundle of silver velvet brushed against his hand as the dress whisked past, and then Nathalie stood in front of him. “Is anyone sitting here?” She placed her silk fan on her face, revealing only her large, inviting eyes. She blinked like Alcee when she exaggerated her adoration of him to plead for some favor. Nathalie, though, seemed much more practiced, especially in the way she slowly lowered her fan from her round eyes to below her full lips, revealing a smile as curvaceous as her body.