“Old Harry Bahls.” I chuckle and settle deeper into the chaise, loving this story.
“Harry didn’t only have an unfortunate name. He had unfortunate breath.” Eva is reclined in the other chaise, all long and slim and looking like royalty in her black jeans and red blouse. If I didn’t love her so much, I’d be green with jealousy. “I mean, it smelled like something crawled inside his mouth and died. Anyway”—she waves an elegant hand through the air—“so we were at dinner and I was trying not to look at him. When I looked at him I couldn’t take his breath. But then he started coughing up blood.”
Luc stops strumming to stare at Eva.
“Turns out, he’d had an emergency tonsillectomy two days before, but he was too much of a gentleman to cancel the date.”
“Oh, how awful for Harry Bahls.” Lauren makes a face. “It’s impossible not to use both his names, isn’t it?”
“What happened?” Cash prompts.
“He’d developed a terrible infection,” Eva explains. “We spent the rest of our date in the ER. I would’ve given him a second chance. You know, once the antibiotics kicked in and cleared up that nastiness he had going on. But he was too embarrassed. He still sends me a Christmas card every year, though.”
“Tell them aboutyourworst date, Luc.” Cash, who’s sitting on the end of my chaise, nudges Luc’s knee.
“Hell no,” Luc says too quickly.
“Oh ho!” I cry. “I smell a story!”
He shakes his head forcefully, making Cash laugh so hard he has to grab his stomach.
“Now youhaveto tell it, Luc, or I’ll have Cash do it for you,” I threaten. “And youknowhow he likes to embellish.”
A muscle ticks in Luc’s jaw, deepening his dimple. I think I hear the sounds of two Disney princess sighs again.
“Fine,” he eventually grumbles. “Long story short, I met a woman who lived outside Fort Bragg. We went out, then we went back to her place, and…” He clears his throat. “Things progressed as those things do. Afterward, when I was leaving, I noticed a picture on her mantel. It was old and yellowed. It showed two boys holding up a big catfish on a jug line. One of those boys was my father. I know ’cause my dad kept a copy of that same photo in an album.”
“Oh my Lord.” My hand jumps to cover my mouth.
“Apparently, her dad was my dad’s cousin,” Luc says. “I knew I had kin in North Carolina, but what are the odds?”
Cash is laughing so hard he’s crying. He points at Luc. “He’s a bona fide, cousin-kissing redneck!”
“Cousin-kissing?” Eva hoots. “More like cousin-fu—”
“I beg your pardon,” Luc interrupts. “She was mysecondcousin once removed. I wanna get that on the record.”
Now we’reallin stitches.
“What in da world?” Jean-Pierre ducks through the open window. “What’s all dis rougarouin’ out here?”
Rougarouingis the Cajun word that means something similar toraising a ruckus.
“We’re telling worst-date stories.” Eva wipes a tear from her eye. Her makeup still looks perfect. How does she do that?
“Did you tell ’em yours,cher?” Jean-Pierre’s grin is evil.
“Shut it.” I try to burn his face off with the fire shooting from my eyes.
“Oh ho!” Luc swings around to pin me with a look. “Now who doesn’t wanna show and tell?”
“Fine.” I lift a hand. Turnaboutisfair play. “I may have gone out with a guy who showed up for our date wearing a T-shirt that read, ‘Call me Mr. Flintstone; I can make your Bedrock.’ He took me to Raising Cane’s Chicken Fingers for dinner. And afterward he leaned over and said in what I can only assume was supposed to be a sexy voice, ‘The word of the day islegs. Let’s go back to your place and spread the word.’”
“That didn’t happen.” Lauren shakes her head in horror.
“Just like I told it.” I hold up three fingers. “Scout’s honor.”
Eva hoots and slaps her knee. “I’ve heard that story half a dozen times, and it never gets old!”
