“Except he is only marrying her for the land to be in the family.”
Rosette shook her head in disbelief. “P’tit, have you not heard what I have tried to tell you? These marriages are hardly ever about anything but negotiation. Love is rarely an issue. Why do you think a man always goes back to his placée?”
“He told me he plans to leave her after the wedding. I would think she would want to know that.”
“No, I don’t think she would. But I do think he would say what he needs to say to make sure he has a warm house on Rue Ursulines,” Gabriel said.
“Gabriel,” Rosette said, “perhaps it is time for you to leave this conversation.”
Gabriel walked away, hearing Serafina’s hiccupping sobs, as Nathalie said, “She truly needs your advice, Madame Girod. She has discovered she is with child.”
* * * * *
The next morning Gabriel smelled fresh coffee and found a filled urn in the dining room. He leaned against the sideboard, warmed his hands around the cup, and stared at the cherry dining table where the shutters sifted the sun that, over time, had faded the once-gleaming wood.
New furniture had not made its way into the Girod house for years, although a few pieces of late had materialized from Tante Virgine’s house—a walnut sewing cabinet, a cypress armoire, a wire safe for the back porch…. Virgine, his mother said, gave things away just to have an excuse to wear an elegant day dress and shop on Canal Street. Sometimes, items whose names she couldn’t pronounce and, therefore, would not be able to impress others with found a home with the Girods. Like the cut-leaf silver centerpiece on the table, an epergne with a center vase and two trays that held flowers and fruit, or the two mirrored girandoles, ornate, branched sconces with pendants and festoons of cut crystal, that Gabriel now looked at in their dining room.
Tying her black-and-cream-toile tignon as she walked into the room, Rosette asked him to pour a cup for her before they left for the café. As Gabriel handed it to her, he said, “I want to apologize for what I said last night. I should not have said something so cruel.”
“True. But then, I’m not sure why you stayed in the first place. Though it appeared Nathalie appreciated it, by the frequent glances in your direction.” She put her cup on the table and tucked in the loose ends of the tignon. “Let’s go. I let Alcee sleep, and Virgine is coming by to entertain her.”
“I heard what Nathalie said, about Serafina being with child. Does Bastion know?” Gabriel ignored the remark about Nathalie. Rosette used to say she was “trouble waiting to happen,” so he didn’t think his mother was suggesting that he pursue the intention of those glances.
“I didn’t ask her. It is not my business, nor yours. In fact, I’m not pleased to be this involved, but I understand she feels alone and needs someone to talk to about this. I’m going to tell you what I told her. Be patient. God has a plan, and He’s not required to show it to you.”
* * * * *
“I heard a person can find the best coffee and calas in the city here.”
Rosette almost poured powdered sugar on Gabriel’s shoes when she heard Joseph Joubert’s smoky voice as he strolled into the café. She handed Gabriel the canister and headed toward Joseph, her arms outstretched. “So, you have returned?”
He clasped her hands and bowed in what Gabriel deemed an exaggerated performance. “Yes. How could I stay away from all this?”
But when he spoke, he looked only at Rosette, whose cheeks reddened as if she had been bending over the open kettle, stirring sugar for pralines. She clearly did not react like a cautious woman, and Gabriel thought she trusted this man far too much and too soon. This uncharacteristic frivolous behavior from Rosette concerned him, especially since they all knew so little about Joubert. Gabriel had witnessed one painful and disappointing relationship; he would not allow another man to damage his mother again. To remind them they weren’t alone, Gabriel walked over to hand them each a cup of coffee. “Welcome back, Monsieur Joubert,” he said with a voice as cool as the coffee was hot.
“Thank you, Gabriel.” Joseph lifted the cup and sniffed. “Ah, just as I remember. I’ve not had the pleasure of great coffee for days.”
“Let me make you some fresh calas before the morning crowd arrives,” Rosette chirped, fluttering off to the kitchen without waiting for an answer.
Gabriel started to follow her, but Joseph said, “Gabriel, wait. I’ve only been away a few days. Why have I lapsed into being ‘Monsieur Joubert’ again?”
“Habit, I suppose.”