hand and kissed the knuckles.
She did pull her hand away then and asked, “How did the tests go?”
“Good. I won’t get the final results for a few days, but I’m certain I passed.”
“Then you’re Doctor Boudreaux now?”
“Pretty much.”
“Congratulations. Of course, I knew you would do well.”
“Oh, you did, did you?” He flicked her chin with a forefinger in a teasing manner. “And why was that? Your prayers to St. Jude?”
“Well, there was that,” she said with a smile. “But I was talking to Leon when I went to deliver some produce a few days ago, and he told me that you are super, super intelligent. His words exactly. According to Leon, back when you were in high school, the students were given intelligence tests and your score went off the page.”
“Leon said that?” He was surprised. Usually he and his brother only had fond insults for each other, never anything serious. He wondered about the context of any conversation in which that subject might come up.
“Yep, and then I met Dr. Clovis at church last Sunday and he told me that he knew one of your professors at Harvard, a colleague of his from way back. This guy told Dr. Clovis that you are a brilliant student and that he fully expects you to be a brilliant doctor someday. Dr. Clovis has pretty much accepted that you won’t be joining his practice, your ambitions being much greater than his lowly practice.”
“I wouldn’t say that.”
They were smiling at each other, but then Louise’s expression changed as she took one of his hands in hers and said, “I’ve made a decision, Justin.”
“Oh, no, no, no! You can’t make a decision without us talking first.” That look on her face was the kiss of death. Guys from the age of puberty to geezerhood knew the female expression that preceded the dumping. The only thing missing was the standard, “It’s not you, it’s me.”
She started to say, “It’s not—”
But he clamped a hand over her mouth to prevent the words from coming out. Which was silly. So, he removed his hand and stood abruptly, turning away from her so that she wouldn’t see the tears that scalded his eyes. He blinked several times, then turned to face her.
She stood, too, but didn’t move any closer. “Tell me the truth, Justin. Have you already accepted the Chicago offer?”
This was not the way he’d wanted, even rehearsed, this conversation going. But it was too late now. “Yes,” he said, quickly adding, “But I’ve got a plan that will work out for all of us, I promise, even Adèle. I assume she’s sleeping.”
Louise nodded. “I’ll listen, Justin, but I really have made up my mind.”
“Don’t tell me,” he said in a panic. “Let me talk first.”
“Okay,” she said on a sigh that was not promising. She sat down again on the couch and patted the cushion for him to sit, as well.
He sat, and before beginning his spiel, he drank down the remainder of wine in his glass in one gulp, then did the same with what remained of Louise’s.
She arched her brows at him, knowing he was not a heavy drinker. “Justin! You’re as nervous as a cat in a roomful of rocking chairs. You have nothing to be nervous about with me.”
“I have everything to be nervous about with you,” he disagreed. “I love you and can’t imagine a life without you in it. I know we started out in agreement that this would be just an affair…a short one, but be honest, we both fell hard and fast.”
She didn’t disagree, but the determined expression on her face didn’t soften either.
“Let’s get one thing out of the way first. I don’t give a hoot in hell’s hollow whether Adèle is your daughter or your niece. I should have realized the bond between you two wouldn’t withstand a separation of even a few weeks, let alone months or years. Blame it on pure male egotism, or selfishness, or just not thinking. But, sweetheart, the bond between you and me is just as strong. At least, it is from my end.”
“Oh, Justin. This isn’t about whether you love me or not. Can’t you see—”
He put a forefinger to her lips to silence her. “Hear me out, sweetheart. I’ve been practicing this spiel all day. People on the two-day train ride from Boston probably thought I’d lost a few screws…or was just one of those crazy redneck Southerners.”
She smiled, but only slightly.
“I phoned my contact at the hospital