Lulu's Recipe for Cajun Sass - Sandra Hill Page 0,2
was your last proposal?”
“Two weeks ago. Leroy Hamm begged me to marry him, but he’s lookin’ fer someone to spring him out of the Happy Hours Nursing Home.”
Tee-John shook his head, not sure if she was joshing him or not. “I always figured it was your famous dead fiancé that turned you into a spinster, but now I’m wonderin’. This Justin Boudreaux…is he the reason why you never married? Or maybe one of those other seventeen men?”
“None of yer beeswax,” she said.
If he only knew!
When you need advice, go to the opinion goddess…
Mary Lou had just been seated in The Mudbug, the new Houma restaurant located on the ground floor of a restored Victorian mansion, hardly having time to check out her surroundings, when her great-aunt arrived. She watched with amusement as the old lady walked across the dining area, wobbling on high-heeled, wedge sandals toward their booth. Her colors shouted va-va-voom.
The small half-circle banquette Mary Lou had chosen was in an alcove at the far side, following the curve of a corner window that overlooked a back courtyard with a fountain and outdoor seating, not yet open to the public. Practically every table or booth the old lady passed had someone calling out for her to stop and chat, usually accompanied by a hug. Many of them, especially the older ones, had used her services as a traiteur, or folk healer, over the years.
Or maybe people just wanted to get a closer look at Tante Lulu’s outrageous get-up of the day. You never knew what color her hair would be, what kind of make-up she would be experimenting with this week (can anyone say twenty shades of Maybelline eye shadow?), or whether her clothing came from Frederick’s of the Bayou or the children’s section of Wal-Mart—to fit her tiny frame, which seemed to be shrinking by the year, if not the day, bless her heart.
Today she was in blonde mode, a cross between Pamela Anderson and Betty White. Ironically, as over-the-top as her appearance might be to the young crowd, more than one old guy gave her great-aunt a second, and third look, sometimes even a wink.
Kudos to her!
To tell the truth, Mary Lou’s very own mother Charmaine was a younger…well, fortyish…clone of Tante Lulu. Charmaine had once self-proclaimed herself in a magazine article, to Mary Lou’s pre-teen humiliation, as a “bimbo with a brain.” Which was an apt description. Charmaine LeDeux Lanier didn’t open a dozen beauty salons and spas on her outrageous looks alone.
Therefore, kudos to her mother, too!
Unfortunately, the apple fell far from my tree, Mary Lou thought, looking down at her faded skinny jeans and sleeveless white blouse. Mary Lou had to think for a moment to recall whether she’d put on any make-up at all this morning, or not. She often forgot as she went about her chores on the ranch, taking care of the horses, or even on the Tulane campus when she rushed to her pre-vet classes.
Yes, she decided, she had put on a little mascara and lip gloss, but her long, chestnut hair was pulled off her face into a simple ponytail. Nothing bimbo or outrageous about her at all. In fact…boring!
She winced at the significance of that last word and felt tears well in her eyes. That’s exactly how Derek, her longtime boyfriend, had described her…boring…when he’d broken up with her last week.
Immediately, Mary Lou stiffened and willed herself to smile, not wanting to alarm her aunt. She needed to ease into the reason why she’d requested this meeting with the lady known as the Ann Landers of the Bayou.
Standing, she gave Tante Lulu a warm hug and showed her with a motion of her hand that she’d had the waiter place a cushion on the opposite bench seat to compensate for her reduced height. In fact, Mary Lou, who was five-foot-nine, had to lean down to kiss Tante Lulu’s cheek. You’d wonder how there could be such a disparity in height among two women in the same family…her mother was tall, too…but then Tante Lulu wasn’t really their blood kin, though she considered herself aunt to all the LeDeux. It was complicated.
“Thank you for coming, auntie,” she whispered against her powdered cheek.
“Are you kidding?” Tante Lulu said. “I woulda driven all the way up to the Triple L if you’d asked me. Any time, sweetie.”
“Oh, no! I would never ask you to drive that far. Besides, the ranch is a madhouse today with preparations for tomorrow’s big birthday bash.