Love Finds You in New Orleans(69)

“All you gotta do is put it in the collection box at the Cathlik church.”

Lottie felt herself breathe again. “Oh, Anna, that is easily handled.”

“No. It gotta be there tonight, else it won’t need to be there at all.”





Chapter Twenty-Nine

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“When are we going to talk?” Gabriel was going to use guilt to hold Lottie to the gate and pray it would work. He did not know how much longer he could look into her eyes, chart her cheekbones and her lips, and not want to feel her soft cheeks brush against the palms of his hands as he gently brought her face to meet his.

Then again, he understood that reality with Lottie might never exist, because the only way they could be together would require them to be apart from everyone they knew. People who loved one another should not have to abandon the people who loved them. But all of it was supposition without his knowing Lottie’s feelings and resolve, neither of which appeared to be important as he waited for her answer.

She tapped one hand on the basket and kept an eye on her house as if she expected someone to walk out. “I don’t know. Do we need to decide right now? Grand-mère barely tolerates these trips to the homes each Sunday. The idea of us sitting alone somewhere, for all the city to see, would be such a severe violation of social etiquette that the marriage contract might be jeopardized. I’m surprised no one has reported us being in Woodlief’s together.”

“Together? There were at least a dozen other people in the shop. We were all ‘together,’ for that matter. Are you suggesting we breached social etiquette merely by being in the same place at the same time?”

“You know my grandmother would not see it that way.” Lottie continued to fidget.

“You have been distracted since we left the home. Why?”

“This day…you have no idea.” Lottie tried to explain. “I promise I will find a way and a time for us to talk.”

Gabriel left, but Lottie’s behavior continued to concern him.



* * * * *


Lottie hurried inside, hoping Agnes or Abram would be able to accompany her to the church that night. The longer she spoke to Gabriel, the more difficult it became not to tell him about the favor Anna asked of her. If she included him, he would have wanted to walk with her. And if that happened, her grandmother would want the reason she and Gabriel needed to be at the church, together, and on and on and on.

She didn’t see Agnes or her grandparents, but she heard music coming from the parlor. Removing her cape, gloves, and bonnet and leaving them on the dining table, she inched open the concealed doors between the two rooms. Her grandmother sat at the pianoforte and either ignored or did not hear the doors scraping open, because she continued playing. Grand-père played marble solitaire at the game table and quietly motioned Lottie over. He pulled out the chair next to him from the table and continued playing. He was four marbles away from winning and having just one single stone at the center of the mahogany board.

The three of them resembled a colored sketch in the Lady’s Book by Louis Godey. Lottie marveled finding them looking so…so content. She had not seen her grandmother at the pianoforte for a long time. Maybe this was what she did when Lottie wasn’t here. But why? With her eyes closed and her fingers moving on the keys, her grandmother’s severe features softened. Like she did in the dressmaker’s shop, Lottie glimpsed her not as a grandmother, but as a woman. But she braced herself for the inevitable crack in the facade. When the song ended, so would the emotions of the woman who played it.

When her grandmother played the last note, Lottie followed her grandfather’s lead and applauded, with gentility, of course.

“That was lovely,” her grandfather said. “And look”—he pointed to the board—“I have successfully completed my game.” He stood and bowed. “Please, no ovation.”

“You should play more often. Grand-père was right. It was beautiful,” Lottie told her.

“Thank you, Charlotte,” her grandmother said, and a smile almost broke through. “How was your visit?”

If Lottie could have squirmed as she sat in the upholstered chair, ten yards of fabric and four petticoats swelling over her, her grand-parents might have witnessed her body shift. She couldn’t reveal what she and Gabriel did in addition to being with the children, because she truly would be risking lives. But, still, she felt uncomfortable accounting for only half the time she and Gabriel were there.

“It’s rewarding. Every week we’re able to read to the children and play games with them, and they are truly appreciative of our time there.” As she spoke, she realized not only that Grand-mère never asked, but she was hearing her own words for the first time. “At first, I thought I went to help them because I—we—had the means to provide food and clothes. Now, I think we’re helping each other. When I look at those little girls, I know I could have been one of them except for the two of you. Having sapphire ear bobs or new gowns every season or a summer home can’t buy a family or faith.”