The Vigil Read online

  “Well, hello to you, too.” I heard the smile in his voice.

  “Where are you?”

  “I’m driving in from the dock, and I’m on vacation for the next twenty-one days. Woohoo.”

  “Nice. Did you get in touch with Angelle?”

  “Yes, didn’t you get my message?”

  I slid into the driver’s seat and glanced back at Elray’s tombstone. “I did, and I’m sorry I didn’t call back. Things have been a bit...unusual.”

  “Really. Start talking.”

  I checked my makeup in the visor mirror. Streaks ran down my cheeks. “Can’t. I’m headed to work and don’t want to be late. Have dinner with me Friday night. You can tell me all about Angelle, and I’ll share my news.”

  “OK. Only if you let me buy. How about Nonc Nubs Seafood Hut?

  “Sounds great. About seven?”

  “See you then.”

  After I hung up, I called Mama. She answered after the second ring. “Cheryl, is everything all right?”

  “Yes, and good morning. I have a quick question. Does Anthony know about Elray?”

  “No.”

  “I’m meeting him Friday night for dinner, would you like to join us so you can tell him?”

  Her heavy sigh floated through the phone. “Do you think he’d be mad if you told him?”

  “I think he has a right to know, and it would be better coming from you.”

  “I’d rather not in public. Why don’t I cook, and you two come here for dinner?”

  “That sounds great. I’ll let him know. We’ll see you Friday.”

  I called Anthony. When he didn’t answer, I left a message telling him about our change of plans. My next call proved not as easy, but I needed to make the effort. I dialed the number to Grace Community Church and set up an appointment to meet with Chuck. If I had to choose between God and no forgiveness, I wanted to choose God but wasn’t quite sure how.

  The next two days were uneventful.

  Carlton quit bugging me to talk to Chuck when I’d told him I’d scheduled a meeting over the weekend. With much insistence on my part, Carlton agreed to see him again.

  Something serious had happened between Carlton and Lady S. My heart broke when I thought of Carlton carrying a heavy burden to his grave. If he wouldn’t talk with me about it, maybe he could share with Chuck.

  I’d read two letters to Carlton and still wasn’t any closer to figuring out who Lady S could be. My bet lay heavy on Beau’s grandmother, but a part of me didn’t want it to be her. She seemed so cold and unloving. There would be no way I could bring her to Carlton and expect a forgiving outcome. The thought left me feeling hopeless. If Mrs. Mouton was Lady S, how could someone so loving and passionate become so cold? And what happened to make that drastic change, in both her and Carlton?

  ****

  Anthony and I sat next to one another at Mama’s rectangular table while she sat across from us. The ceiling fans on the back porch whirled the warm air around us. Its gentle breeze brushed across my forearms.

  Bijou Bayou snaked lazily through the back end of her property. The setting sun sparkled on the water like a million gemstones. Evidence of how Bijou Bayou had gotten its name. A batch of hyacinth covered a portion of its width. Their purple flowers in full bloom emitted their sweet fragrance into the night. I caught an occasional whiff when the wind picked up.

  Anthony interlaced his fingers and leaned forward onto his elbows. “OK, I know something’s going on. Spit it out.”

  Mama squirmed a bit in her seat, but finally relayed the same truth to Anthony she shared with me. After she’d finished, he sat silent for several minutes.

  “She told you this a few days ago?” he said.

  I nodded.

  He turned back toward Mama. “Mama, I’m really sorry you had to deal with everything.” He paused and took in a deep breath. “But I think this is a glaring example of why it’s important to always be honest. If we had known this growing up...” He pointed to me and then back to himself. “We wouldn’t have such harsh feelings about our childhood.”

  He raised his hand when Mama tried to defend herself. “I’m not blaming. I know you and Elray did what you thought was best. And that’s all anybody can do. But for the future, can we try to be more honest and open? I wasted a lot of time hating a man who didn’t deserve it. And to be honest, it makes me feel like dirt for having done so.”

  I nodded.

  Anthony had covered the topic dead on.

  It was exactly how I’d felt.

  And we both felt cheated out of getting to know a wonderful man.

  Mama stared at Anthony, and then glanced in my direction. Tears formed in her eyes. “I know. And if it makes you feel any better. I hated the way we handled things. I’ve regretted it more than you could ever know.”

  Anthony reached across the table and grasped Mama’s hand. “Thank you for telling me.” Then he turned to me. “You, too, sis. I feel so much better knowing Elray wasn’t a wife beater.”

  I agreed.

  We ate the wonderful shrimp jambalaya and white beans Mama prepared. Maybe it was just my imagination, but the atmosphere seemed more relaxed and loving. I guessed it had to do with finally letting go of long held secrets and hatred. The twinkling lights from the multitude of citronella candles added to the scene.

  “Oh, by the way...” Anthony lingered on the last word while a sassy smirk covered his face. “Y’all are looking at a man who has a date tomorrow night with the one and only Dr. Angelle Guidry.”

  “Yay! I knew it. I knew it.” I could barely contain my delight. I reached over and gave him a nudge on the shoulder. “You do still like her. I’m so happy.”

  Mama clapped her hands together like a cheerleader. “That’s wonderful, son. I really liked that girl.”

  “Me, too,” I said.

  Anthony smiled. His eyes twinkled like diamonds in the soft candle glow. “Me, too.”

  Anthony’s news had added an additional layer of comfort to the evening. We finished our meal with relaxed conversation and sharing of our week. For the first time, sharing a meal with Mama hadn’t been a stressful event. So much between us had been let go and it felt good. It was dusk and the last embers of light bathed the bayou in soft hues of yellow and red. The moss hanging on the extended branches of the huge live oak swayed in the gentle breeze.

  Darkness soon enveloped our setting and all that remained were the shadows cast by the flickering candles.

  Anthony and I took kitchen duty while Mama cleared the table. I glanced toward the outdoor clock. I’d been here over three hours. I smiled.

  As I was leaving, I remembered something I wanted to ask Mama. I stopped on the front porch amidst her potted plants. Crickets and frogs sang to us. “Mama, do you know if Beau’s grandmother, Mrs. Mouton, had any family who lived in Arkansas?”

  She furrowed her brow slightly. “No, not that I know of. I believe the whole family is from here, and I don’t think any of them left. Her mother and father’s family is from here. They were a pretty small family, and I’m sure none of them left here. I don’t know a whole lot about that generation. I do know she only has the one sister, Mrs. Chandler, and one brother, Arvin Gerard. Why do you ask?”

  “Oh, just something I was curious about. Is Mrs. Chandler older than she is?”

  “Yes. I believe she is.”

  I walked to the door, and from the steps, I leaned in and gave Mama a hug. “G’night Mama. And thanks for a great evening.” I yelled toward the kitchen. “Good night, Anthony.”

  He poked his head around the doorframe. “Hey, no need to yell. I’m right here. Do you think I’d let you leave without a hug?”

  I hugged my brother. When I reached the bottom of the steps, Mama called out. “You do know Mawmaw had a couple of aunts from Arkansas.”

  I turned toward Mama and let the information percolate. “Oh, OK. Thanks.”

  Her words grabbed hold of my heart and twisted it just a little.
<
br />   Lady S…Mawmaw?

  I drove home with the thought swirling through my mind. I could see Mawmaw’s spirit in those letters before I could see Mrs. Mouton’s. And what if Mawmaw was Lady S? Would she come to see Carlton before he died? Although, those questions were important, the most important question was how to find the true identity of Lady S when the two people who knew the truth weren’t speaking.

  Seize

  “Cheryl, it’s nice to see you. Thanks for setting up the appointment with Carlton. He’s an interesting gentleman.” Pastor Chuck sat on a leather chair across from my matching one. A small wood and wrought-iron table stood between our chairs.

  “Interesting is a good word to describe him.” I smiled. “I suspect there’s more to him than he’s willing to share right now.”

  “I think you’re right.” He leaned back and crossed one leg over the other. “How can I help you?”

  I leaned back also and picked at an imaginary lint ball on my black slacks. “Actually, Carlton suggested I see you. It has to do with belief in God, but most importantly, I’m struggling with forgiveness issues.”

  “I see. Tell me.”

  It took a few moments to gather my courage. After all, I’d not seen Chuck since that night when Debra and I had rescued him. A quick shake of my head helped clear the mental image.

  He leaned toward me. “We can just sit here and not say a thing if you want. Or I can pray for you if it’s too difficult.”

  His kindness warmed me, and if I didn’t tell him the truth now, I wouldn’t ever be able to. Once I opened my mouth, the words flowed. I told him about Mama and Elray. I shared feelings about the past and described my current level of faith. The story took about thirty minutes. I sighed. I’d summed up a lifetime of discontent in half an hour. There seemed to be something inherently wrong with that.

  “Cheryl, I could tell you not to be so hard on yourself and forgive yourself, but you and I both know that’s not what works. You’ve known me way before Christ claimed by heart, and you know the reputation I had. Can you imagine what it’s been like to be a preacher here in the same location where I committed the majority of my sins?” His left eyebrow shot up. “Been like the valley of the shadow of death, but you know what? It’s been the best thing that could have happened. God’s omnipotence and perfect timing made sure it did. All I had to do was surrender to His prompting.”

  I hadn’t considered Chuck’s position before. “I imagine it’s been tough.”

  “In some ways, yes, but in others, it’s been great. What better way to showcase God’s almighty ability to use anyone as His vessel? Including a cracked one like me. But there’s no way I could have been receptive and open to teach had I not let go of the guilt. Have you ever stopped to think maybe God wants to use you to minister to Carlton?”

  “Me? No. How could God use me? There are days I’m not sure I believe He exists.”

  “He can reflect His character through your compassion, strength, loving kindness, and gentle caring hands to Carlton.”

  “I never thought of those things as reflecting God’s character.”

  “Yes, those things are all God’s character. Harboring unnecessary guilt, hatred, or withholding forgiveness can act as a filter to keep those good things from coming or going from us. It hinders us in ways we don’t realize. Sometimes forgiveness takes time, whether it’s ourselves we have to forgive or someone else.”

  He leaned back in his chair. “I can tell you from experience, if you have a receptive heart and pray, amazing things can happen.” He chuckled and then spread his arms out wide. His jacket opened to reveal the lilac shirt underneath. “Look at me. I look in the mirror every day and wonder what God saw in me, but I thank Him every day for seeing it. I often tell my congregation that me becoming a preacher is proof positive that God really does have a sense of humor.”

  I smiled. A flash of his walk on the old road came to mind, and I quickly dismissed it. I could not—would not go there.

  Chuck scribbled a few notes on the yellow legal pad lying on the table. “Here are a few Bible verses to read and study. Also, remember to pray before you read these. Ask God to open your heart and mind to what He wants you to receive from these verses.”

  He tore the sheet and folded it in half. “Do you have a Bible?”

  I did a mental scan of my bookshelf and couldn’t remember ever having a Bible. Maybe as a child I’d had one. “No, I don’t think I do. I can stop by the bookstore on my way home and buy one. What do you recommend?”

  He reached around to the shelves behind him and lifted a Bible and a pamphlet off the top shelf. He opened the cover, slid the pamphlet inside, wrote something on the first page, and then lowered the cover. “Here.” He handed me the Bible. “A gift from Grace Community Church.”

  Tears gathered in my eyes, turning the Bible in my hand into a fuzzy blue blob. A ‘thank you’ in a voice I hardly recognized eked out my quivering lips.

  Chuck smiled. “The pamphlet is for our next Bible study class if you’re interested.”

  Not able to trust my voice, I nodded.

  He stood and I followed. “Cheryl, would you like to meet again?”

  “Can I think about it before making another appointment?” I didn’t want to take up his time until I’d processed all he said.

  “That’s fine. Just call my secretary if you decide you’d like to. I’m here for you.” He squeezed my shoulder. “You’re also welcome to come to our services tomorrow. Debra and I would love to have you worship with us.”

  “Thanks, Chu....er...Pastor Chuck.”

  His cheeks reddened as he laughed out loud and shook his head. “For heaven’s sake, Cheryl, you’ve seen me in my underwear. I think you can call me Chuck.”

  Laughter bellowed from my gut. The heaviness I’d lived with for so long disappeared. I loved being free from the trappings of my emotions.

  ****

  Driving to Lafayette, windows down, warm air blowing through my hair, gave me time to think about what Chuck had said. He’d gotten over the bindings of his past and allowed God to work through his life. Maybe it was time I did the same.

  What would Annie be like today? Did she even know I’d stood at her bedside, painted her nails? Guess it didn’t really matter if she knew or not. I did. And being with her had freed me from some of the crazy guilt twinges that plagued me for losing touch with her. Seeing her pale face with the angular lines helped remind me that she was real. A breathing person. One still married to Beau.

  The shrill chirp of my cellphone rang as I navigated the car into an open spot near the front door.

  A quick glance at my screen confirmed an unknown number. “Hello.”

  “Miss Cheryl, hello, this is Steven. Are you coming to my game this afternoon?”

  Drats, I’d forgotten about Steven’s game and my promise to consider going. “What time does it start?”

  “Well, today’s a double-header. The first one is getting ready to start in about twenty minutes. The next one should be in about two hours, tops.”

  “Sorry, buddy, I won’t be able to make the first one. I’m at Bayou Pines visiting your mama.”

  I waited for his response, and when I didn’t get one as expected, I wondered if he’d heard me. “Steven, you still there?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” His voice was thick with emotion. “Tell Mama I said hi, and I’ll see her after the games.”

  “Will do. I should be at the park in time for your next game. So I’ll see you then.”

  He hurried through the directions on what diamond he’d be playing on and hung up before I could ask if his father was there.

  When I entered Annie’s room, the coolness of the blowing air conditioner brushed along my bare arms. With a gentle stroke along Annie’s arm, I let her know I stood next to her. “Annie, hello, honey. It’s Cheryl. How’s it going today?”

  Oxygen tubing ran around her face and into her nostrils. Had she had difficulty breathing?

  I s
at next to her bed and told her what Steven had said. “You have a fine boy there, Annie. You and Beau have done a good job with him. He’s playing a double-header today at the park. Would it be OK with you if I watched his game? It’s just that Beau doesn’t have much family left in town, and it’s too far for your family to drive from Lake Charles to come to his games every Saturday. So I thought I’d go cheer him on. I’ll yell a few times for you. How’s that?

  Annie remained with the same peaceful expression she’d worn last week. Only this week the tubing interrupted the smooth lines of her porcelain skin. Was she aware of my presence? If so, what was she thinking? Was I trespassing on her life?

  I wanted to be her friend again. I wanted to believe she could hear me. I pulled the Southern Living magazine I’d bought this morning and began reading the articles to her, describing the elegant table settings, and lush summer gardens. After an hour, no detail had been overlooked. I’d shared the entire magazine with her. I gave her a good-bye kiss on her forehead and told her I’d be back next week.

  As I stood to leave, her door opened. The shadow of a man entered the room and as the light bathed his face, I recognized him. “Gerald?”

  Annie’s brother stepped further into the room and stared. “Cheryl? Cheryl, is it still Broussard?”

  I extended my hand. “It is.”

  Instead of taking my hand, he pulled me into his arms and gave me a bear-hug squeeze. “It’s so good to see you again. What…are you doing here? I thought you left town.”

  “I did. I’m back.”

  “I see.” He walked to Annie’s bedside and brushed a few strands of hair away from her face. “The nurses said she’s developed some fluid on her lungs. They’ve added the oxygen and are giving her breathing treatments.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that. I wondered.” I walked toward the door. “I was just leaving, Gerald. It’s good to see you again.”

  “Hey, let me walk you to your car, and then I’ll come back and sit with Annie.”