Nancy K. Duplechain - Dark Trilogy 01 - Dark Bayou by Nancy K. Duplechain Page A

boilers going full blast. The smell made my mouth water. I wanted to go in right away, but there were at least fifty people there. They were laughing and enjoying life, and I instantly felt like I had no right to be there. I was the one who turned my back on all of this a long time ago. I chose misery and solitude, and I had no right to change my mind.
     
    I started to back up, thinking I should leave. But I saw Lucas leaning against one of the oak trees by the picnic table. He sipped from his Bud with a grin spread across his face. He was in a pair of faded jeans that looked like they were tailored just for him. He had on a pair of boots, and he was wearing his police baseball cap that hid his dirty blonde hair. His white T-shirt was short-sleeved and, for the first time, I could make out muscles that were never there when I knew him last. My stomach sank, and my heart beat irregularly for a few seconds.
     
    I took a deep breath and stepped back again. There was no way I was ready for this. I turned to leave, but as I passed the screened-in carport door that led into the kitchen, I saw Carrie open it excitedly and rush down the steps.
     
    “Yay! You came!” she said, and hugged me as tightly as she could. She released her embrace and dragged me by the arm, up the steps, and into the kitchen. “Come! I have beer and tons of junk food and—”
     
    “Oh, Care. I’m sorry. I didn’t think to bring anything.”
     
    “If I had wanted you to bring anything, I would have told you. The only thing I wanted you to bring was your ass. Now come on. Lucas has been waiting to see you again.” I stopped short and Carrie, who was still pulling my arm, kept going. My sudden stop caused her to jerk backwards, and she looked like she was going to fall, but steadied herself. “What’s wrong?” she asked. I was silent and just shook my head. “Oh, come on, Leigh! You have nothing to worry about, my little wallflower. Everyone’s nearly drunk, so they won’t even remember you were here tomorrow. Let’s go. I won’t leave your side. I promise.”
     
    I was once again grateful that she could read my mind. I felt at ease with her. I let her lead me through the kitchen and out the patio doors that led to the backyard. When we got outside, one man in an LSU baseball cap shouted, “HEY!” but it came out sounding like AAAAA ! with the long vowel sound. I didn’t know what Carrie meant when she said “nearly drunk,” because this guy was completely sauced.
     
    “Look who it is!” he said too loud with a plastic cup in his hand. He came over to me and hugged me with one arm. From the smell of it, I suspected it was rum and Coke in that cup, and most likely not his first one.
     
    “Hi,” I said, not sure who this was. He picked up on that.
     
    “A! Leigh.” He made an exasperated gesture and his mouth hung open. He instantly struck me as the type of guy who was always the life of the party, too loud and too drunk, but with a very likable quality. “Aw, c’mon! Ya mean you don’t reco’nize me?” His voice was thick and coarse, like he should be older, but he looked about my age. He definitely had a good grasp of the flat Cajun accent. “Aw. Leigh-Leigh. C’mon now. You breaking my heart, yeah, girl. Mais, you don’t remember me?”
     
    I shrugged my shoulders, now embarrassed. Carrie grinned and nudged me in the arm. “We went to school with him a long time ago.”
     
    I looked him up and down and then it hit me. “Billy Joe?”
     
    “Aaaaa! Dere you go!” he rejoiced.
     
    “Sorry,” I said. “But that was like in fourth grade. A really long time ago.”
     
    “I know. You know I was just pickin’ on ya. Mais, come here, chère.” As always, chère in Acadiana sounded like shaa and mais sounded like may . “We gotta get ya hooked up wit some beers. Ya need ta catch up.”
     
    Now it was Billy Joe who led me away by the arm, but he was gentler than Carrie had been. He walked me over to the table