Lulu's Recipe for Cajun Sass - Sandra Hill Page 0,5
think.”
“Boring, huh? Thass one thing no one has ever said about the women in this family.”
Mary Lou shrugged. “Guess I’m the exception.”
Tante Lulu studied her appearance, tapping a fingertip against her lips which were now minus color except for a red line around the edges. Mary Lou resisted the temptation to lean forward and use a napkin to wipe off the excess.
“Well, that just dills my pickle! You’re a beautiful girl, Mary Lou, and if brains were leather, that Derek wouldn’t have enough to saddle a pissant,” Tante Lulu concluded, getting a bit red in the face. “Mebbe yer hair could be fluffed up a bit, and it wouldn’t hurt to add a bit of rouge to yer cheeks, and, holy moley, tart up yer clothes once in a while, but other than that, that boy had no bizness callin’ you boring.”
“Is that all?” Mary Lou should have been offended, but it was hard to take Tante Lulu’s jibes to heart when she meant well. “Actually, I don’t think it’s my physical appearance that he means as boring. More my personality.” She turned on her male voice and imitated Derek by husking out, “All you talk about, Mary Lou, is horses, horses, horses. I swear, honey, you’d live in a stable if you could. And all you ever want to do is ride, ride, ride. Not that I don’t like a certain kind of riding. Ha, ha, ha! Think about it, sweetheart, you look down on my frat parties, but you’re the first one at a barbecue at some shit-stinky ranch or out roping or branding the animals. Be careful, sweetheart, or you’re gonna start lookin’ like a horse.”
Tante Lulu’s jaw dropped and she just stared at her for a moment. Then, she said, “What a schmuck! Did it ever occur to him that all he talks about is football? To some of us, tossing a ball around and men tacklin’ men to break their bones fer fun is bor-ing. And all those bulgy steroid muscles! Do they wanna look like Popeye? Eew!”
Tante Lulu had a point there. Derek played football for Tulane, and he spent all his spare time watching NFL games on TV or working out with weights, sometimes both at the same time.
“You never did like Derek, did you? I always figured it was because he wasn’t Cajun.”
“Nope. There are plenty of good non-Cajun men out there. But I suspicioned early on that he was using you to get close to yer cousin Andy. Mebbe get an in with the Saints’ big brass.”
Mary Lou felt her face flush. That thought had occurred to her, too.
“Not that he wasn’t attracted to you and all,” her aunt added quickly. “More like he was lookin’ fer a little lagniappe, along with the sex.” In Cajun land, lagniappe was the little something extra a merchant threw in with a customer’s purchase. “Ain’t nothin’ wrong with a little hanky panky. I never did go for that, ‘Why buy the cow when you kin get the milk fer free?’ To me, it’s jist as easy to say, ‘Why buy sausage when steak is on the menu?’ What’s good fer the goose and all that!”
“Tante Lulu!” Mary Lou exclaimed again. You couldn’t say the old lady wasn’t blunt…and possibly right. And wasn’t it odd how her language fluctuated from almost illiterate to highly intelligent, practically from sentence to sentence? Did she do it on purpose, to give the wrong impression, so she could then zap a person with some wisdom? Probably.
“I’m too old to waste time on pretendin’ I doan know what you young folks do. Old folks, too, fer that matter. But thass beside the point. Did you tell yer mother about Derek bustin’ up with you? Betcha she’d have some good advice, specially since she was a Miss Louisiana at one time and broke more hearts than the shredding machine at Whitman’s Sampler the day after Valentine’s.”
Mary Lou just blinked at that long spiel, but then she said, “I’m not that crazy…or desperate. If I told Mom, she’d blab to Dad, and you know what he’d do? He’d go after Derek with a cattle prod. I overheard him telling Uncle Luc one time that if any guy hurt his little girl, meaning me, he’d shoot his balls off.” Uncle Luc had three daughters, and was always complaining about how they were giving him premature gray hairs, but he’d agreed with her father.
“Yep. You are yer daddy’s girl. Allus have been, from the