Love Finds You in New Orleans(83)
Chapter Thirty-Four
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“Why haven’t you given her the letter? Her mother’s letter? This changes everything. You can’t withhold this from her.” Gabriel paced, circling the dining room table.
“You’re assuming the letter tells the whole story. I’m doing exactly what she asked me to do. She said I would know the right time. I don’t think this is it,” Rosette said.
“She’s about to marry a man she doesn’t love. A man who would not marry her if he knew about her mother. I don’t understand what else you need. What if ‘not the right time’ turns into ‘too late’?”
“This is my decision to make. A friend and her husband died in my house within a day of each other. And don’t forget that had Mignon accepted my offer, Lottie would be like a sister.”
“I can forget that,” said Alcee.
“I’m going to escort Serafina back to her house,” said Joseph, who turned to Serafina and noted, “It doesn’t seem they know we are still here anyway. I’ll return, and they will probably not even realize I left.”
“May I join you? They don’t need me either,” said Alcee.
“Wait!” Rosette stood as if about to call a meeting to order. “I never intended for Mignon’s story to be told this way. Please, please respect that and do not say anything. At least for now.”
Alcee, Joseph, and Serafina all nodded their acceptance and left.
Rosette stopped Gabriel mid-circle. “You are going to have to trust me. I have carried this for eighteen years. I am not going to risk ruining someone’s life. Do you understand?”
“Would it matter? I understand. I don’t like it, but I understand.”
“It’s not the final piece of rice. Not yet,” Rosette said as she hugged her son.
* * * * *
Gabriel fell asleep, but he found it impossible to stay asleep. He created one scenario after another, but tonight they all ended the same way. He and Lottie could share a life together.
When he woke in that hazy time between night and day, he decided to dress and go to the café early. He could surprise Rosette, and perhaps even Joseph, by nailing a few boards together without the nail pointing east or west or getting bent on top. Years of education, and yet he struggled with a hammer and nail. He found leftover French bread wrapped in a towel on the dining room table. Gabriel tore off a sizable chunk to eat along the way.
He had forgotten what it was like to witness the city waking up. Not that he could see much from his room when he’d wake up early to study. But he could see enough that the lights from the candles of the early risers tracked their movements through their houses. Other times, like this morning, he would see a few lights extinguished from those staying too late at Vincent’s or the gambling house or the guzzle shops. The last ones presented the most trouble, with their sloppy walking and penchant for disposing of their stomach contents wherever and whenever necessary.
He had time to walk past his father’s office, though he knew the man wouldn’t be there. Jean Noel probably didn’t arrive until after his servants brought home breakfast or the makings of it from the French Market. With the exception of returning home from the clothiers that day, Gabriel avoided the street as much as possible. Never during the day could he simply stand in front to peer through the plate-glass window inscribed with Mounier and Hart, whether people recognized him as Jean Noel’s son or not. Gabriel didn’t know if his own father would recognize the man he had become. This morning, when he reached his father’s door, it wasn’t Jean Noel that came to mind. It was Joseph Joubert. In the brief time he’d known Joseph, the man brought him on jobs, showed him the particulars of drafting, and included him in his business at every opportunity. He had been honest with Gabriel when Gabriel confronted him about being away. He adored Alcee, and he loved his mother. What more could Gabriel ask for in a father? Nothing.
Jean Noel would have always been half a father, but Gabriel didn’t want just half a relationship. It wasn’t as if his father never cared about him. He remembered times his father read to him, played kickball with him…even paid for his new wardrobe several weeks ago. If Rosette had not asked him to leave, would he have been able to be two fathers? Jean Noel respected his mother’s wish, and for that, he respected his father. Gabriel could let go now.
Closer to the river, he could hear the whistles of the incoming boats sounding as if they needed to wake up, their usual robust blarings now long groans. As the sun raised the thick, moist velvet curtain of darkness, figures that seemed like shadows emerged from doorways and carriages. The servants headed to the French Market; dock workers and merchants moved through the city. And this particular morning, Gabriel was one of them, and he prayed he would not wake and find it all a dream.