Lulu's Recipe for Cajun Sass - Sandra Hill Page 0,57

the truth, honey?” Louise replied, shaking her head as if Lily Rose was a pitiful soul, which she was.

“Rumor sez that you—” Lily Rose started to say.

Rumor sez that,” Louise interrupted, not wanting to know what people were saying about her, “before you ‘caught’ yer husband Leon, you’d seen more ceilings than Michelangelo.”

It took Lily Rose several moments to get the insult and she gasped, “Oh…oh…!”

On that note, Louise pivoted and stormed out of the store and drove to town. Once in Houma, she had her hair cut and permed at that new salon on the corner into a curly bob that made her look…sassy. The next day, still fuming from her encounter with Lily Rose, Louise went shopping and came away with three sets of nylons, a pair of strappy high heels, two silk blouses, a pair of hiney-hugging pants, and a new wraparound dress, all in bright sassy colors. The third day, she picked up Adèle from her morning kindergarten session.

“Where we going, auntie?” Adèle asked when she noticed them going in the opposite direction from home.

“It’s a surprise,” Louise said and drove a short distance before driving into a used car lot on the outskirts of Houma. Dapper Dan’s. Dan had mentioned at the wedding reception last month that he could give her a good deal on a trade-in. Adèle skipped along beside her and Dan as they walked up one aisle and down another before exclaiming with joy, “Look, Tante Lulu, it’s a purple car.”

“Well, butter mah butt an’ call me a biscuit,” Louise muttered under her breath.

It was actually lavender, not purple, which was Adèle’s favorite color, and it was a convertible, but it was big…a Chevy Impala.

“Oh, I doan know,” Dan protested. “It’s kinda big for a little ol’ gal like you. You’d need a pillow or two so you could see over the dashboard.”

It was crazy. Impractical. But it sure would make a statement.

A short time later, with cushions under both their behinds, Louise and Adèle grinned at each other as they drove off the lot in the new Lillian.

If this isn’t Cajun Sass, nothing is, Louise thought.

To her surprise, the voice was back in her head, and he proclaimed, ’Tis the best cure for hopelessness.

The car?

No, my child. The attitude…the Cajun Sass.

Louise never lost her Cajun Sass after that. In fact, she grew an attitude that became legendary.

Chapter 11

Present day

As time goes by…

Louise sat in the passenger seat of Luc’s ess-you-vee as they drove to the Triple L Ranch for the big birthday bash. They were a little late because Louise had insisted on extra precautions being made with the Peachy Praline Cobbler Cake she’d brought.

Not that there wouldn’t be a birthday cake there already, but knowing Charmaine, it would probably be store-bought, and everyone knew they were never as good as homemade, even if it came from Samantha’s upscale family supermarket chain, Starr Foods. Samantha was married to Dr. Daniel LeDeux, one of Louise’s many “great-nephews.” Their sons, the D & A twins, were among the seven birthday boys today, even though they were six months older.

Tee-John’s wife, Sylvie, sat in the back with their one-year-old son Christopher, who was asleep in his car seat. Good thing, too. Chris was one of the birthday boys, and he would need all his energy to keep up with his cousins who looked like a marathon of crawlers when they were all together. She wouldn’t be surprised if some of them started walking today as they tried to imitate D & A who’d recently discovered toddling, amidst lots of spills on their diaper-padded bottoms. If they didn’t start walking soon, Louise intended to make them knee pads.

“I still don’t see why you had to bring your car, too,” Luc said. “Lillian is a gas guzzler. You oughta get rid of that thing.”

“As if!” she replied, glancing behind to see that her lavender convertible was indeed riding their tail. They had all been surprised when their family arrived to pick up Louise and she’d asked Luc’s three daughters if one of them could drive her car to the ranch. The three girls had all practically jumped with glee. The oldest, Blanche, 20, who was following in her daddy’s footsteps as a law student at Tulane, won out as the driver. Camille, 19, a French Quarter chef in training, rode shotgun; and a disgruntled Jeanette, about to be a high school senior, sat in back.

“I have my reasons for wanting Lillian at the ranch,” Louise told