“You’re right, thank you.Sweet Dreamscouldn’t be better. I still have a great deal of work to do on the house, but I’ll enjoy that.”
Luc decided he should give the grocer more credit. Grace could have been hysterical over Guidry’s behavior. Instead, she was calmly achieving her aims, despite the hurt and fear lingering below her outward show.
“Good to know you haven’t had trouble with that ghost.” He offered a curt nod.
I’m not a ghost. I’m cursed.
Grace arched a fine, delicate eyebrow. “I don’t believe in ghosts, Mr. DeLille.”
“Well now, I can’t say as I do or don’t believe in spirits, but folks say odd things happen out atSweet Dreams.” He paused in his work to lean on the counter, sharing a companionable moment with a friend.
Nonetheless, Luc listened carefully. DeLille liked to hear himself talk, and nearly always let fall some useful tidbit.
“Why don’t you tell me all about it while you fill this order for me?”
Given her tone, Grace did not wish to listen to local legends. However, DeLille wouldn’t care if she listened or not, as long as she behaved like she did.
The man returned to gathering the items from her list, placing them all on the counter.
As he talked, Grace surveyed the store. Shelves were fully stocked. Window displays were thoughtfully arranged. Every inch was clean and smelling of pine.
“Yes, ma’am. I’ve only been out toSweet Dreamsonce or twice, myself. I was a green boy and still stupid enough to want to impress my friends by bragging that I spent the night in your house,” DeLille recalled.
Luc smiled at the memory. He’d not been in the mood for company, and used his ephemeral skills to frighten off young DeLille. Didn’t regret it one whit, either.
“Oh?” Grace’s voice held true interest.
“Excuse me a minute. We have the flour sacks in the back room.” He vanished behind the curtain, returning a moment later with a twenty-pound sack of flour. The man set the flour on the counter then retrieved the preserves from Grace’s list.
Grace took the list back from DeLille and began to tick off items. “Anyways,” the grocer resumed the story, “I went out there one evening when the moon was waning. Weren’t any clouds, so I had plenty of light.”
A bag of apples joined the tins, jars, and sacks on the counter. Grace shouldn’t have to haul all of that by herself. However, Luc couldn’t help her, not unless he was willing to reveal everything. He wasn’t.
Not yet. She wasn’t ready to accept his help.
“I bedded down in that big room on the first floor,” DeLille said. “Used to be a salon or some such.”
Luc knew the room. Bright and sunny, it had been a favorite place for a very young Grace to sit beside her mother while the older woman read a story.
“I used to sit in that room with my mother,” Grace said.
“Fell asleep quick,” the grocer stated. “About one in the morning, some howling woke me. I looked around. Didn’t see anything. Was settling back on my blanket when this man’s face come’s straight out of the ceiling. He was crying and carrying on something awful. Saying how only the cursed could survive atSweet Dreams, and asked what kind of winding sheet did I want before I was put in my casket.” DeLille went to the sundries area, where he grabbed three reams of paper, two packets of nibs, and three bottles of ink.
“Amazing,” Grace said.
The older man placed the sundries on the counter then checked the list. “I hightailed it away. Left everything I brought with me behind and never went back. You wrote twenty yards of gingham here. You go on over to the fabrics on that table beneath the window and pick out the bolts you want. Then I’ll cut them up for you.”
“What did your friends think when they found out?” she asked, as she examined fabrics.
“Never told them. They would have teased me merciless if they knew.”
“And you never went back? Not even in daylight?” Grace chose three bolts in different colors, and carried them over to the counter. Luc approved the colors, cheerful but not too bright. What would she do with them?
“I see you have some large panels of lace,” she said. “I’ll take a dozen of those.”
“Of course. Bring them over here, and I’ll get ‘them wrapped. To answer your question, I did go back, once. I took a gal out there sparking one day. She didn’t care for it, said it was too spooky. Married her the next year. You, planning to make curtains for them big front windows?”
“Thinking about it.” Grace turned perusing the store shelves, bins and all. “So, that was the last time you went out to my house?” She ambled over to the sewing notions, where Luc watched her collect needles and thread.
