Bayou Christmas (Cypress Cove #2) - Suzanne Jenkins Page 0,4
However, we did have a brief affair. It was nice.”
“So you’re bisexual,” Maggie stated.
“Nope, but I did experiment.”
“Honest to god, this conversation is making me sick,” Maggie’s mother, Aunt Elizabeth’s niece Rose said. “No one cares who anyone sleeps with. Just do it and move on.”
“Ha! I think it’s interesting,” Maggie said, laughing at her mother’s expression, which left little doubt what her honest feelings were. “Our family is so vanilla. That’s what my ex said about us.”
“He’s disgusting,” Elizabeth said. “A little vanilla might improve his personality.”
“What does that mean, anyway?” Rose asked.
“Vanilla is anything that doesn’t stand out,” Maggie said. “Plain. My ex flattered himself, believe me. He was about as boring as they come.”
Now, facing Gus, Maggie thought of how kind Grace was when she needed help with the wild horse population that had been relocated to the property around the cottage. When Justin or his father were busy in the clinic and Maggie needed a vet, Grace was the first one on the scene.
“I love Grace,” she told Gus.
He unpacked their lunch, placing sandwiches on paper plates and removing the lids on the salads and pudding Miss Spencer wanted Maggie to have.
“She’s so skinny,” Miss Spencer had said, putting extra mayo on the sandwiches and packing cookies and chips in the bag.
“Do you want soda with ice, or coffee?” Maggie asked.
“I’ll just drink this,” he said, holding up the cardboard cup of coffee. “She’s a widow, did you know that? Her husband was a lawyer in Houma. They were married for ten years when he died. Had two little boys. She never married again.”
“Oh, how sad,” Maggie said, looking at him. “Grace always seems so gracious. Her name is perfect for her.”
“She is so graceful. That’s good, Maggie. Plus she’s so small.”
He giggled and Maggie was charmed, old Gus’s shoulders shaking and his cheeks flushing.
“Oh my god. You’re in love!”
“Well, hey, yeah. I want to marry the woman. I must be in love a lot.”
“Sit down, Gus. It’s wonderful. You deserve love.”
He snickered, embarrassed, but grateful. Maggie was a true friend.
“I’m an old bachelor. I’m worried the people will make fun of us. Why do I care? It’s amusing, for sure, that two old people want to share what’s left of their life. But I still don’t want to hear it. And I don’t want her to be ashamed.”
“Grace is tough,” Maggie said. “I’m willing to bet you never have to worry about her.”
Nodding, Gus knew what she said was true. Grace would be appalled if she knew he worried about what others thought of them. The relationship was sacred; he felt completely at ease with her, no shame over his failure to achieve big things. Even his own father and grandfather knew that willing the family mansion to Gus would be too much for him to manage, and after changing hands a few times, it now belonged to Val and Elizabeth, who graciously allowed him access any time he desired.
“Where are you going to do it? I mean, are you eloping?”
“We’ll go to the justice of the peace, but after Christmas I’m going to ask Val if we can do a reception there at the mansion,” he answered.
“Oh wow, that will be so lovely, Gus. When? I won’t crash it or anything.”
“Phooey,” he said, laughing. “You’d be our only guest if I was in charge. I’ll let Grace decide who else is invited.”
“Well, I can’t wait. There are so many weddings! My aunt’s, then Annie and Steve’s.”
Annie Markley, Maggie’s best friend, and Steve Casson, heir to the great Casson hardware store, were evidence of Maggie’s matchmaking skills.
“What about you and Justin?” Gus asked, grinning.
“No, I can tell you, Gus. We aren’t getting married anytime soon. There’s no need. But that’s another story. I’m so thrilled for you and Grace!”
They finished up lunch, and Gus helped her clean up.
“Apple pie?”
“Yes! The turkey is in the oven, and the apple pie is next.”
He sniffed the air. “I can smell sage.”
“Yes! Sage is in the stuffing,” she said.
“I’d better get back to the dock before I lose my job.”
“I’ll walk you out,” she said. “Come on, Brulee, one last stroll before your afternoon nap.”
After Gus took off, she got busy with the pie again, filling the pie shell with the apple mixture and covering it with an upper crust. She even tried decorating it with little dough leaves. It didn’t take long for the smell of cinnamon to overtake the aroma of the turkey.
By six, she showered, mashed