Page 38 of Lulu’s Recipe for Cajun Sass

“Now that you’re gonna be a doc-tor, Justin, you’ll need an investment advisor for all the moolah you’ll be rakin’ in. Come see me, eh? Ha, ha, ha.”

“Isn’t it time to trade in that old jalopy of yours, Louise? Ha, ha, ha!” said Dan Doucet from Dapper Dan’s Used Cars With Oomph. “Drop in to my lot on Monday and I’ll give you a deal, guar-an-teed! I have one with a rumble seat you might like.”

The place was decorated to the nines in ribbons and flowers, the round tables set with silver and china and crystal goblets. White-gloved waiters were walking around with trays of wines in stemmed glasses and bite-size appetizers. Swanky, just like Louise had predicted. His parents never would have been able to afford something like this.

After seeing this spread, he was finding it hard to believe that Lily Rose would be satisfied operating a little beauty salon inside the general store. He suspected his brother would have his hands full down the road, but that was their problem, not his.

Once he got to the area in front of the head table where his parents’ group was standing, he introduced Louise to the Fortiers, George and Sonia, as a well-known bayou folk healer. He could tell it surprised Louise that he showed pride in her work.

Louise would probably have something to say later about how George had a good twenty years on his wife. His brother Leon winked at him as he greeted Louise, his dad gave her a warm handshake, acknowledging to everyone around that he not only knew Louise well but that he worked with her, and his mother gave her a long hug, probably hoping that Louise would be the key to Justin’s coming back to the bayou.

The Fortiers, including Lily Rose, were a little snooty in their greetings, excusing themselves to go off to meet someone important who’d just arrived, taking Leon with them. Not that they’d said it in quite that way. More like subtle snobbery. The whole bunch of them and their like thought the sun came up every day just to hear them crow.

His dad muttered something about people who were too big for their britches.

His mother said, “Shh!”

His dad persisted, “Didja see the size of them tiny sandwiches they’re passin’ around? ’Bout the size of mah thumb. Wouldn’t fill the stomach of a June bug. And some of ’em are filled with grass.”

“Thass water cress,” his mother explained.

“Lak I said, grass. I coulda sent over twenty pounds of boudin sausage, or some lunch meat, if I’d known they’d be so skimpy.”

“I caint believe you asked for a beer.”

“I caint believe they brought it to me in some fancy-pancy crystal glass.”

Justin and Louise looked at each other and smiled.

“Listen, honey,” he said to Louise a short time later. “I have to sit at the head table during dinner, but I’ll join you when the dancing starts.”

“I’m holding you to that.”

He’d promised her a night of dancing, and he intended to follow through, once his commitments were over. In the meantime, he led her to one of the tables up front where there was a name tag in front of her plate. She would be sitting with his parents, his Uncle Joe and Aunt Lizzie from Lafayette, his grandmother Marion Boudreaux, Dr. Clovis LeDeux, and Alan Despain, a new young lawyer from Houma, who was looking at Louise with more interest than Justin liked.

After seating Louise, he leaned down and gave her a kiss, in front of one and all, dammit, and whispered, “See you soon. Save the first dance for me.”

He could tell by her blush that his public kiss embarrassed her. But only a little, he suspected; she was in what she called her Cajun Sass mood.

Before he left, Dr. Clovis, who was sitting on Louise’s right, said, “Did your young man tell you I offered him a job?”

“Noooo.” Louise looked up at Justin in question.

“A full partnership with me in my practice, and mebbe even a home in the long run. Hasn’t given me an answer, though.” The doctor winked at her, as if she could convince Justin, and took a sip of what was probably his third or fourth bourbon on the rocks.

Not only was Louise interested in what Dr. Clovis had said, but his parents were listening avidly, too. Damn the man for spilling the beans. Justin hadn’t made a decision, and the old guy knew it good and well.

“You only made the offer a few days ago, Dr. Clovis,” Justin pointed out.

Fortunately, an announcement over the microphone said, “Everyone to their seats, please. Dinner will be served shortly.” But Justin knew he’d have some explaining to do later. A band had arrived and was setting up on a dais across the large room.

Justin squeezed Louise’s shoulder and left for his seat at the head table.

It took more than an hour before Justin was able to be with Louise again, following a meal that he had to admit was excellent—filet mignon and fresh Gulf shrimp—a bunch of speeches, champagne toasts, and cutting of the cake, which someone whispered had cost five hundred dollars. The Fortiers had opted out of some of the traditional Cajun wedding rituals, probably too lowdown for the Fortier’s highbrow life style.

By the time he got free of his duties, the dancing was well underway, and Louise was already out on the dance floor, enjoying herself. Not just with the stupid lawyer, but every eligible bachelor at this dig had her in his cross-hairs. Like he’d thought, that dress of hers exposed a good amount of her legs, including some of her lower thighs, when her partners twirled her around. Which they did. A lot. Probably deliberately. Dammit!

The musicians alternated between big band music and Cajun songs. Just then, they segued from “In the Mood,” to “Jolie Blon.” Justin took that as his cue to cut in on Louise and her partner.