Start reading this book:
Chapter One
Jane Lafitte stepped out into the bustle of Magazine Street, shivered in the cool December air, and lifted her face toward the late-afternoon sun.
New Orleans was decorated with red ribbons and holly garlands wrapped around the old city’s countless iron lampposts. Christmas music floated from the open doors of every business in the uptown area and beyond, and the scent of cinnamon was everywhere, causing Jane to sneeze.
Nothing more festive than Christmastime in New Orleans.
She’d had a successful meeting with the European antique supplier and gave herself a mental pat on the back. It was a relief since many of their affluent clients clamored for French and English furniture for their homes. Authentic furnishings and artwork were in high demand in the home renovation business.
Jane kept an eye on the sidewalk to avoid tripping over large cracks in the cement caused by overgrown tree roots as she walked to her car parked a few blocks away.
New Orleans was a lovely old lady, but she ultimately showed her wrinkles and flaws if examined closely. Ongoing maintenance was necessary to prevent the city from falling into the Mississippi River and to preserve its beauty and history. Jane was thrilled to be a part of her city’s preservation efforts, no matter how challenging.
Jane and her longtime best friend Suzy owned J&S Interiors and Renovations. Their business was based out of Suzy’s home on Constantinople Street, which was a short distance from Jane’s house on Napoleon Avenue. They’d met in middle school at McGehees girls’ school and were as close as sisters, which meant they both agreed and disagreed regularly.
Today, Suzy had a conflict and couldn’t make the meeting, so Jane went instead. Usually, décor and furniture were Suzy’s specialty, and Jane’s was renovation. She texted Suzy the good news, and Suzy texted back with nine ladies dancing emojis, and then she added a champagne popping gif for good measure.
Yes, life was good.
Jane stopped to pick up a small crab Louis salad she’d ordered ahead of time from a little dive place down the street. Some of the best food came from the most modest of establishments in Louisiana. The uptown afternoon traffic moved at its usual agonizing pace. She wove through the tree-lined streets for several blocks until she arrived home.
She got out of her car and inhaled the pine-scented fragrance riding the breeze. “Santa Claus is Coming to Town” played faintly from somewhere down the block.
This was her favorite time of the year, and she was especially happy today.
Grinning, she carried her purse, mail, and takeout containing her crab Louis salad up the driveway. At the back door, her gaze fell on her dormant gardenia bush and her heart tugged.
Her late husband, David, had planted the bush a year before his passing, and he’d tended it like a third child. Jane continued the loving care, and last summer, the shrub rewarded her with fragrant white blooms. David would have been so proud.
She sighed softly. She missed him so much. He’d left a hole in her life she feared would never be filled.
The day after Thanksgiving, she’d hired a company to install her outdoor Christmas décor, including icicle lights, and her house looked like something from a movie set. There were wreaths on every window sporting big red bows. The tasteful homes that graced the area were the epitome of this graceful old New Orleans historic district. Jane never took for granted how lucky she was to live here.
She and David had hired the firefighter-run company every year to do the decorating for them and she continued the tradition for her children. Even though her kids were young adults, they still appreciated the stability in the wake of their father’s death.
Tucking away the precious memories, Jane unlocked the door just as her phone buzzed in her pocket.
She stepped inside, dropped her dinner and the mail on the kitchen counter, then hung her purse and keys beside the door. She took out her phone and was surprised to see the caller was her daughter.
It was unusual for Casey to call instead of text. Her daughter was finishing her degree in library science at The University of Alabama in Tuscaloosa, and Casey typically only called for something important, but they did text several times a week.
“Hey, honey. How are you?”
“Hi, Mom.” Casey sounded breathless.
Something was up.
Jane waited, kicking off her sensible wedges and sinking down onto a barstool, the glow from her enjoyable day ebbing as worry crept in. Was something wrong?
“Well?” Casey asked.
Jane frowned, puzzled by the one-word question. “Well, what?”
“What do you think of Drew?”
It took Jane a second to realize Casey was following up on the selfie she’d texted to Jane earlier in the day. In the snapshot, her daughter’s lovely face was squeezed next to a handsome blond man with huge blue eyes and a great smile.
The new boyfriend.
Her daughter had been dating Drew for most of the semester, but Jane had yet to meet him. Although she had seen a couple of other photos of the two of them on Casey’s social media feeds. The truth was, Casey liked boys—a lot—and she had epic crushes. Jane loved her daughter dearly, but for that reason, she didn’t get overly invested in every guy that Casey dated.
“He’s super cute, honey.” Jane didn’t ask too many questions. She’d learned not to insert herself in her children’s love lives. They were adults and could make their own decisions.
“Mom!” Casey exhaled in a loud whoosh. “Drew is magnificent. He’s The One. I’m sure of it.”
“I’ve heard that before—”
“No, I was an idiot before. I had no idea it could be like this. Drew is different from all the rest. You’ll see.”
“It’s okay to take things slowly. I don’t want to see you get your heart broken again.”
Jane crossed her fingers and looked heavenward. Please.
“Mom, we have been taking it slowly. We’ve been dating since August.”
Four months. The longest romantic relationship Casey had ever had. Hmm. Maybe Drew did have staying power.
“I’d love to meet him—if you think it’s time for that.” Jane didn’t want to meet the young man only for Casey to kick him to the curb a week later.
“We’re coming home this weekend. Is that okay?”
Her heart gave a happy squeeze. “That’s wonderful, sweetheart. I’ve missed you so much. Yes, yes, please do come home.” But that meant she had a lot of prep work to do.
“Jason’s coming home this weekend, too.”
“It’s a long way to travel from Ole Miss, and final exams are harder on underclassmen than on seniors. Don’t pressure your little brother to come home if he’s got other plans.”
“He doesn’t. I texted him yesterday.”
“Y’all will both be here for Christmas in a few weeks, and you were just here for Thanksgiving. It takes over five hours for your brother to get here, depending on traffic.” Sometimes Casey just wanted what she wanted and could be somewhat oblivious to the obstacles.
“I know, but I want him to meet Drew, too. Oh, and tell Aunt Suzy to stop by as well.”
Casey must really be serious about this boy if she was willing to drive the four hours from Alabama, wanted everyone to meet him, and couldn’t wait until Christmas break.
“Okay, I’ll let your godmother know, and I’ll have the rooms ready,” she said.
“Um, Mom…”
The way she said it tapped the brakes on Jane’s excitement. “Yes?”
“There’s one more thing.”
“What’s that?”
“Drew is going to ask his dad to come in for the weekend too, and I—we—were hoping he could stay at your house. You know, just to have everyone close by.”
Hmm, something was definitely up. Jane thought of the downstairs suite she only used for company. Questions buzzed through her mind, but she stopped them at her teeth.
Why only his dad and not his mom? Where is he from? Is he gluten intolerant?
Jane controlled her curiosity, knowing she would find out everything soon enough. “All right. Where is he coming from?”
“He lives in Ministry, Alabama, near Huntsville, but he often does consulting work in New Orleans. He’s a doctor. Just so you know, Drew’s mom died a couple of years ago, so don’t ask about her, okay?”
That was two of her questions answered. “I’m so sorry about Drew’s mom, honey. I’m sad that the two of you have that in common.”
“Yeah, it’s been nice for us to talk about it. Still hard, though.”
“Of course it is.” Jane was surprised that her daughter hadn’t mentioned Drew losing his mom before. Casey had taken her dad’s death very hard—they all had. “I promise not to say anything awkward to Drew or his father.”
“Drew wants his dad to be there because they were supposed to go fishing at the cabin in Ministry this weekend, and he feels guilty about canceling on him. Plus, Drew really wants me to meet him.”
Jane squashed her anxiety over having a man she’d never met sleeping in her home. She had plenty of empathy for Drew’s dad and the kids, who’d both had a parent taken from them at a young age. Not to mention, it would be easier to have them all under the same roof.
“Is there anything else I need to know about Drew’s dad?” she asked.
“Hmm. Nothing that I can think of. I haven’t met him yet either.”
Huntsville was a six-hour drive, but a quick flight from New Orleans, so Jane could see how he could come and go between the two cities for work. It still would make sense for him to stay the weekend though.
“Drew’s calling him this afternoon to ask him to come, but if everything works out, you’ll meet him Friday afternoon,” Casey said. “He’ll probably want to beat the traffic, so he’ll probably be there a couple of hours before us because I have a test.”
Jane frowned. She’d had few guests in recent years, other than the kids’ college friends during carnival season. She wasn’t really up for entertaining a stranger by herself, even if it was Drew’s dad.
“Wait, he’ll be driving? This is really sudden, maybe he could get a hotel—”
“Gotta run. See you Friday night, Mom. Love you.” With that, Casey ended the call.
Dr. Trevor Gardner drove his old blue Ford pickup truck from the Huntsville airport where he’d just gotten off a plane from New Orleans. He’d owned the truck since he was a teenager and he’d retrofitted it with new tech upgrades like a hands-free phone, GPS, media screen, and backup camera. He switched to an eighties and nineties Spotify playlist, and Faith Hill’s “This Kiss” filled the cab through the speakers, instantly transporting him and flooding his mind with thoughts of his first love.
Jane Theriot.
He saw her as she’d been—bare feet, with pink-polished toenails, crossed on his dash—flashing him a wide grin. Giving a saucy shake of her head, blond ponytail bouncing as she playfully stuck her tongue out at him from the passenger seat of this very truck and batted her gorgeous green eyes. The next memory followed of when he’d kissed her to this song. They’d been so young—so eager and in love.
Such an unexpected blast from the past. Songs were time machines, whisking people back to the first time they heard them. Jane Theriot. The one who got away.
Since Trevor worked in New Orleans part of the time, he often wondered what had happened to Jane. Mostly, it was fleeting and wistful, like what they’d shared had happened in a dream. What she was up to? Married, most likely. Kids for sure. She’d always wanted children. They both had.
His cell phone rang. It was his son.
Drew was in his senior year at Bama, working on his architectural engineering degree. The university was only an hour and a half from their home in Ministry, but it might’ve been an ocean away, and it had been a long four years. Drew came home every other month, or Trevor shot up there for a quick weekend. Still, being apart was tough, especially after losing Laura.
Trevor turned off the Faith Hill song and answered the phone through his hands-free device. “Hey there, bud. What’s up?”
“Hi, Dad. I just wanted to check in with you and Henry.”
“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you liked that old hound dog better than you do me.” Trevor chuckled.
“Of course I do,” Drew teased. “Henry doesn’t ask me about my grades.”
“Henry doesn’t pay your tuition either. How are the grades?”
“Walked right into that, didn’t I.” Drew laughed. “Relax, Dad, I’m carrying a 3.9 GPA this semester.”
“Hot dog, Drew, that’s awesome news. Congrats!”
“How is Henry?”
“Fine. He’s at Uncle Junior’s house.” Uncle Junior was Trevor’s deceased wife’s brother and their closest kin besides Trevor’s parents. Junior owned acreage outside Ministry.
“For sure, he’s better off at the farm while you’re in New Orleans,” Drew said. “Henry does love those farm goats.”
“So, is everything all right?” Trevor asked. “We still heading to the lake this weekend?”
“Um…everything’s okay. I just missed you and Henry.”
Trevor heard a hitch in Drew’s voice. “But…?”
“How do you know there’s a ‘but’?”
“I know you. What’s on your mind?”
“Would it be okay if we postponed the fishing trip until Christmas break? There’s someone I want you to meet.”
“What’s her name?”
Drew’s tone lit up. “Her name is Casey, and she grew up in New Orleans.”
Huh. So Drew had a serious girlfriend. Trevor tried not to press for more information, but his curiosity yammered at him. His son hadn’t ever brought a girl home before. Who was she? How long had they been going out? Where did they meet?
“Dad?”
“Yeah?”
“I think she’s The One.” A dreamy quality infiltrated Drew’s voice.
Two conflicting emotions hit Trevor at once. Excitement for his son and fear that he’d get hurt. Drew was levelheaded, but Trevor had been too, until Jane Theriot had done a number on his heart.
No, it wasn’t fair to paint Drew’s girlfriend with the Jane Theriot brush. Just because Trevor’s first serious romance blew up in his face didn’t mean that would happen to Drew.
“I’ll send you her pic.”
“That’s fantastic, bud. I can’t wait to meet her. Send me the details of when and where we’re meeting.”
“Will do.”
They ended the call, and he got two texts from Drew as he pulled over for fuel. Pumping gas, he took out his phone. The first text was of a sparkly green-eyed brunette with a deep dimple in her right cheek. He could see why his son was smitten. That dimple reminded him of a girl he’d known decades ago.
Jane Theriot. There was a lot of Jane on his brain today. What was up with that?
He hadn’t seen the woman in over twenty-five years. He blamed Faith Hill. Her song had stirred up the past. For half a second, he was tempted to google Jane and see what was going on in her life, but that felt desperate somehow. So far, he’d managed to avoid doing it. Mostly because he felt guilty thinking about her since Laura had passed away. Before that, it would’ve been plain wrong.
The pump clicked off. Trevor rehoused the nozzle, got in his truck, and drove away, still seeing Janie in his mind’s eye, the dimple dug deep in her cheek, her laughing green eyes trained on his as she went up on tiptoe and stole a kiss. The woman had been so full of life, and he’d once loved her so very much.
But the past was the past. No amount of wishing and hoping could roll back the clock. And really, he wouldn’t do it if he could. Laura had been an amazing wife and gifted him with his precious son. He didn’t regret any of it.
Besides, it was Drew’s time. This was his son’s first love, not Trevor’s, and he would support Drew any way he could.
Determined to empty his head of useless nostalgia, Trevor tuned his satellite radio to the holiday music channel and listened to Christmas songs the rest of the way back to Ministry from the airport.
On Friday, Trevor packed quickly for the weekend in New Orleans to meet Drew’s girlfriend, Casey.
As Trevor tucked items into his duffel, his old hound, Henry, stared at him in question.
“Sorry, boy. We’re not headed to the camp this time. You’ll stay with Aunt Maeve and Uncle Junior, okay?” Henry whined at the mention of his next-favorite people, Trevor’s brother-in-law, Junior, his wife, Maeve, and their daughter, Celia. Junior and Maeve owned a small farm where Henry loved to run around and chase smaller critters than himself, though he was way more likely to cuddle up with them at naptime than hurt one. Henry was Trevor’s constant companion and had never spent a night outside, as much as he loved to play outdoors.
Trevor hated leaving Henry, but Drew was his top priority. He had decided to drive the six hours from Huntsville instead of flying since he didn’t exactly know the plan for the weekend, and a good road trip didn’t bother him. Trevor wasn’t traveling next week, and he was off Monday. His partners had the practice covered. None of his current hospitalized patients were in immediate danger, making it easier to get away. As a doctor of internal medicine, he stayed pretty busy, but these days he had a little time to breathe since they’d gotten a fresh crop of new interns to help with patient charts and minor complaints.
Trevor wished Laura was here to share Drew’s excitement for his new love. Losing his wife two years ago in a car crash had cleaved a chunk out of their family, forever changing it. Trevor still lived in the same house they’d shared since Drew was little, and there were times since her death that he’d wanted to pack up and move someplace else.
Trevor turned on some jazz music from his playlist and focused on packing. “Two pairs of shoes, or three, Henry?” Guess it depended on where they planned to go in the city. New Orleans was a mash of different kinds of restaurants. Some required a coat and tie, and others barely expected flip-flops and T-shirts.
He’d been invited to stay with Casey’s mom at her uptown home on Napoleon Avenue. Those houses were the ones people thought of when they imagined old, well-preserved historic homes in the South on streets lined with century-old oak trees. Maybe he should throw in a tie, and a sport coat as well.
Trevor had graduated from Tulane undergrad. Then he went to Tulane’s medical school, where he’d met Laura almost a year after he’d returned from his European internship. He loved New Orleans but they’d returned to his hometown of Ministry, Alabama, after finishing school and getting married. Laura had fallen in love with the small town and wanted to settle there.
Drew had come home for Thanksgiving last week, but eating Thanksgiving dinner at Maeve and Junior’s house without Laura wasn’t the same. And it never would be again.
He missed his son terribly while he was gone, but Christmas break was coming up, and they could spend almost a month together then. This weekend would be a bonus for Trevor.
Trevor had taken off work during the break. For twenty-plus years, Trevor had worked hard, so if he scheduled ahead, it was doable. He and Drew would spend most of the month at the lake several miles out of town, where he often traveled on the weekends to fish and relax when he wasn’t on call. Since buying the place from his parents, he’d made it more of a home than the fishing camp it had once been. As a kid, Trevor spent entire summers there, as did Drew. They were some of his favorite childhood memories, and then with Laura and their son.
His cell phone rang as Trevor whistled for Henry to join him in the truck. It was Maeve, Junior’s wife.
“Hey, Maeve. We’re leaving now.”
“I’m so sorry to do this to you, but we can’t take Henry for the weekend unless you can wait and bring him later. Celia has fallen off her horse and likely broken her arm. We’re on the way to the emergency room now.” Trevor could hear the tension in Maeve’s voice.
“Oh, no. Did you need me to meet y’all there?” As the family’s doctor, Trevor was often asked to “take a look” at minor injuries and sore throats.
“No. You go and have a great time with our nephew. Let us know what you want to do about Henry. One of us can pick him up later at your house if nobody else can cover for you.”
“No problem. I’ll handle it. Let me know how Celia’s arm is when you find out. And give her my love.” There was no way he would foist Henry on them during a crisis.
“Thanks, hon. Talk soon.”
Henry stared at him from the passenger’s seat. “Well, boy, I hope they like dogs.” It was too late to try making other arrangements for Henry, and if it was a problem, Trevor could return home after meeting Casey and having dinner. The weather was mild enough to leave Henry in the truck for a couple of hours. Since the clingy animal went with him pretty much everywhere, Henry was accustomed to snoozing almost anywhere.
Trevor had packed Henry’s bed, his favorite chew toy, and a container of food with his bowl to take to Maeve’s house. Instead, he would head directly to New Orleans and maybe beat some of the traffic by arriving a little early.
End of Excerpt
