Page 81 of Phantom
They’re Bordeauxs. People that Sol and his brother have sworn to govern and protect.
The large piece I’ve been missing in my New Orleans puzzle clicks into place. My mind whirls with theories, but I blink to focus on the older woman before me.
I hold my breath as she assesses me for a painfully long moment. The stifling heat and anxiety threaten to make me pass out.
After centuries of waiting, I’m afraid I’ve been found wanting, until she holds her hand out for me to shake. In a moment of true embarrassment, I have to quickly wipe my palm on my dress to avoid getting sweat on the poor woman before I take her hand.
It’s cool, like she hasn’t been baking out in the Big Easy’s heat for longer than three minutes. I look like a mess compared to her. But her familiar lopsided grin sets me at ease.
“You must be Scarlett. I am Valérie Bordeaux. Solomon’s mother.”
Scene 21
GOOD DAYS AND BAD
Scarlett
Ican tell Sol’s trying not to laugh at my shocked expression and Ben’s staring at his brother like he’s grown a third head. Ignoring them both, I lightly squeeze Valérie’s hand, careful not to break the woman I thought was dead up until two seconds ago, only to have her squeeze the daylights out of mine.
“N-nice to meet you, Mrs. Bordeaux.”
She lets go and smiles warmly. “Please, call me Valérie.”
The Southern manners I’ve been around off and on my whole life buck against the request, but I nod once. “Yes, ma’am. Valérie, it is.”
She smiles softly before her eyes drift to her son behind me. “Solomon, thank you for the bouquet. It is so good to see you, dear. It’s been ages.”
Sol winces at her comment before kissing her on each cheek and giving her the most tender of smiles. “Good to see you, too,maman.”
I murmur out of the side of my mouth to Maggie, “I thought you said you come every Sunday?”
Maggie gives me a subtle nod before sighing and gazing at the Bordeaux family with sorrow in her dark-brown eyes.
“We do,” she finally answers with a quiver in her voice that makes tears burn my eyes.
Sol and Ben lead her to the bench across from the raised grave. The men listen to their mother in earnest while she tells them a story in reverent whispers, honoring the dead around us.
“Sweet, isn’t it? For the so-called Phantom of the French Quarter? Guess you know all about that now, don’t you?” Maggie asks me as she wipes a few glistening drops of sweat from her dark-brown skin and bounces Marie on her hip.
The toddler gives me a gummy grin, showing off two perfect dimples in her light-brown cheeks and the few tiny teeth she already has. Her jet-black curls are loose and less defined than her mother’s tight, voluminous ringlets, but her smile is all Maggie. And her eyes… they’re Bordeaux through and through. Her stunning twin midnight orbs stare at me, wide and curious.
I smile back at the little girl before glancing to the bench again. Sol holds his mother’s hands as if she’s made of glass, and murmurs something low, making her laugh.
“It is sweet…heis sweet,” I say slowly, just now admitting it out loud.
“At least to those he cares about,” Maggie offers, dragging my gaze away from the family and back to her. But she’s still looking at them, determination on her face. “God help anyone who hurts the woman Sol Bordeaux loves.”
“What does that mean?” I ask, but my question seems to snap her out of wherever she was. She shakes her head slightly and laughs.
“Sorry about that. Sometimes I just get caught up in my own thoughts.”
I huff a chuckle, but I’m dying to know what she’s thinking. She finally turns to me and steers me gently by the elbow, away from the Bordeauxs. Marie gnaws on the teething ring in her mother’s hand, not caring what we’re doing in the least.
“Hey, listen. I’m sorry about what happened on the stage the other day.” She grimaces before exhaling. “I was dealing with Monty’s—” She looks at Marie and mouths the wordbullshitbefore continuing. “And then I walked in on y’all’s argument. I should’ve… donesomething. I didn’t know what to say at the time, though. I recognized Sol’s seal, but I hadn’t known he’d been writing you. It was a shock to see and I wasn’t sure how to play it, and I played it wrong. I’m sorry, girl.”
“Oh, um… thanks,” I reply, not sure how to respond.
It makes sense that she and Jaime didn’t stick up for me in front of everyone. They didn’t have all the facts. I don’t blame her, especially since she figured out it was Sol and Sol’s her brother-in-law, but it still hurts. I don’t know if anything but time will heal that.
