think I do,” Cyrus said. “You’re both worried one of you will decide this is a rebound thing and you’ll get badly hurt again. I think the difference between the two of you is that Jilly, bein’ a woman, needs the lovin’ enough to take the risk. Bein’ a man, you don’t think you do. Not that kind of lovin’, anyway.”
Guy scowled at the priest. “You don’t know what I think.” He’d better make up his own mind about that. “And you’re out of line pinning Jilly’s behavior on me. How is it my fault she didn’t make sure and talk to the deputy?”
“The two of you drove away in your car, arguin’, and she didn’t come back afterward. What would you think in my position?”
No answer was expected. Guy stacked his hands behind his neck. His job was to go to her now.
A rapid knock on the kitchen door startled both of them. L’Oiseau de Nuit burst into the room and Goldilocks shot in behind her.
Guy pointed at the dog. “Dogs don’t belong—”
“Not a word, you,” Wazoo, as the whirling, plan-a-minute woman was known locally, said. “Later, I tell you about dogs, N’awlins.”
Gritting his teeth, Guy ignored the nickname Wazoo had adopted for him over the past months.
The dog saw him and her tongue lolled from her mouth. She high stepped to flop down beside his chair and nuzzle a foot.
Black-haired, flamboyant, shimmering with energy, Wazoo had blown into town a few years back according to Jilly, to attend the funeral of a friend—and stayed. She lived at Rosebank and helped out there to keep her rent low, worked many mornings at Jilly’s place and was currently filling in at Hungry Eyes, the bookstore and café owned by Jilly’s sister-in-law, Ellie Gable. Wazoo also insisted she dabbled in “the arts,” and considered herself a fine animal psychologist.
“I come to see you, God Man,” she said to Cyrus. “And you knows I don’t do that so easy. But I’ll be talkin’ to you, too, N’awlins. So don’t you try sneakin’ away. I’ll take some of that wine, me.”
Wazoo made great sport of pretending not to like Cyrus, to be afraid his Christianity would get her darker side all stirred up.
Without complaint, Cyrus went and poured her a glass of wine, and put it on the table. Wazoo sat down facing Guy. She saw the nuts and helped herself.
The wild mane of black hair that used to reach Wazoo’s waist remained a mane, but much shorter now and kind of pretty, Guy decided, all tight, springy curls that accentuated her white skin and dramatic features. There used to be long discussions about Wazoo’s age. Was she forty, fifty? Then she’d started making something of herself and the latest conjecture put her in her thirties.
“You’re gonna know me if you see me again, N’awlins,” she said, raising her face and laughing her full-throated laugh.
He grunted. “It’s not my fault you’re a fascinatin’ woman. You’d make any man stare.”
She laughed some more and the look in her black eyes was actually one of liking. “God Man,” Wazoo said to Cyrus. “You know everything that goes on around here. They reckon you saw Jilly early this evenin’. She ain’t seein’ no one else. What’s up with her? And I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t love her.”
“Jilly’s lovable,” Cyrus said. He looked at Guy, who looked away, unwilling to have more conversation with Wazoo than he had to.
“You know Joe and Ellie Gable went off on some fool trip,” Wazoo said. She wore her usual black clothing, but today the dress was simple, with a belt, and it would be hard not to notice her nice figure. “I open up at Hungry Eyes. The café, anyway. Elsie from the dime store does the books. She’s in a book club so she’s good with recommending. Jilly sends Missy Durand over from All Tarted Up in the afternoon when they aren’t so busy. That’s so I can get back to Rosebank and do my chores there.”
“I know,” Guy said. “Jilly told me.”
“Missy Durand couldn’t come today because Jilly never got back to the shop so Missy had to stay there.” Wazoo cast an accusing look at Guy. “That meant I couldn’t leave so I’ll have to make up my chores at Rosebank real late. I can’t expect Vivian to keep my rent low if I don’t do what I’m supposed to.”
An urge to tell Wazoo to get to the point tensed every muscle in Guy’s body. The fact that he couldn’t tell her made them ache.
“Wazoo,” Cyrus said gently. “It’s too bad you were inconvenienced, but—”
“I don’t care about no inconvenience,” Wazoo said, her voice rising. “What I care about is Jilly. She doesn’t let people down. So there’s somethin’ real wrong with her and I figure I’m in the right place to find out what.”
“Your intuition is failing you this time,” Cyrus told her. “You’re right. I went over to see her because I was concerned. But I can’t tell you what’s happened to her because she didn’t tell me.”
Wazoo turned her attention completely to Guy. “But this is the one who knows,” she said. “I’ll bet you—er, Father, I’m sure you got him here with you because you know he’s no good for Jilly, and he’s finally done somethin’ to mess her up but good. You’re goin’ to tell him to move on.”
“Wazoo—”
“If he was any good at all,” Wazoo said, interrupting Cyrus, “he’d be with her now instead of steppin’ out in her hour of need to go drinkin’ with the boys.”
“A glass of wine with the local priest isn’t exactly drinkin’ with the boys,” Guy said, looking at the grain in the old oak table.
“That’s better,” Wazoo said. “You feelin’ miserable now. You should be. And Father here is most likely feelin’ better. He don’t care what you do as long as you have a bad time doin’ it—includin’ drinkin’.”
Cyrus, in the act of emptying his glass, laughed until tears popped in the corners of his eyes. “Can I use that in my next homily?” he asked.
“Not unless you want me to sue you.” Wazoo narrowed her eyes but her mouth twitched.
“I’m glad the two of you are havin’ such a good time,” Guy said. “I’ve got things to do.” He’d gone over the top. What was he thinking, speaking to Cyrus like that?
“You mean you’re goin’ over to try and sweet-talk your way into Jilly’s good graces. Well, don’t hold your breath, N’awlins, she’s got her head screwed on right and I can tell she’s made the right decision. You’re out. Time you crept away.”
Understanding how Wazoo had burrowed her way into the hearts of the folks in Toussaint could be tough to understand. Guy liked her, too, but didn’t know why. She had an acid mouth when she wasn’t being outrageous and she pushed herself into the middle of anyone’s affairs. And they accepted her as if she was meant to be there. Bottom line was most likely that she’d do anything to help anyone.
In a low voice Guy said to Cyrus, “Sorry for snap-pin’. I was out of line.”
Cyrus gave his shoulder a light punch and turned to Wazoo. “You have no
