Page 12 of Merry Mayhem
“Nice to meet you, too,” I say.
“The whole town loves Violet very much. They’ll be so glad to meet you. We’ve all been worried about her,” Bebe says. Her eyes fill with tears. “This is so not how we expected to spend Christmas.” She glances back at her daughter. “I am so grateful that she’s not seriously injured and that you were there for her.” She reaches out and squeezes my arm again. “While she might be in the hospital, we’ll look on the bright side. This whole thing brought you to us.”
Ouch. A little pang of guilt hits me.
But I’m not lying to them or tricking them. Violet and I made a deal to spend the weekend together. Iwasgoing to do Merry Mayhem with her. And she had used the termboyfriend. Sure, the word ‘pretend’ had been in front of that, but I had still been prepared to play the part of crazy-about-her nice guy. If that makes her family happy, then where’s the harm?
And who knows? Maybe at the end of all of this, we’ll take ‘pretend’ off the front of that.
CHAPTER 4
JOSH
“Ellie, I need some advice.”
“Anytime anything, darling,” Ellie Landry tells me as she leans on the top of the scarred wooden bar in her bar and restaurant that, as far as I know, is just called Ellie’s. There’s no sign outside with that name, or any other, on it, though, and everything inside is plain, from the napkins and coasters to the menus, which are printed on plain paper and replaced only when they are ripped or stained to the point where the offerings are no longer readable.
That all drives her marketing specialist granddaughter, Charlie, absolutely crazy. But Charlie has yet to convince her grandmother that spending the extra money on things that tell people where they’re eating is worth it.
Ellie always says, 'If they’re already inside eating, why the hell do they need a napkin to tell them where they are?'
The plain napkins and coasters really match the general aesthetic, though, and I think even Charlie would agree if pressed. The place is full of mismatched chairs and tables. Even the barstools are an eclectic mix of sizes, colors, and styles. The drinkware, too. It’s pretty clear that Ellie buys sets of glasses, butwhen things break, she replaces them with whatever she finds or likes at the moment.
The walls are “decorated” with a collection of photos of people and events Ellie loves, posters of bands and sports teams she likes (which get removed if she gets pissed at them for any reason), and, more recently, landscapes of the Louisiana bayou and wildlife photos. Again, the photos or pieces of art are added simply because they strike her fancy. There is absolutely no unifying theme, color scheme, or anything other than “Ellie”.
Which makes calling the place “Ellie’s” the most obvious thing.
Ellie is the matriarch of the family that adopted me two years ago when I ended up in Autre, Louisiana, the tiny Bayou town that needed a full-time firefighter after I finished my training in New Orleans.
I have to admit that landing in this little town is the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Yes, I followed a woman from Omaha, Nebraska, to New Orleans, but the fact that none of the fire stations had a full-time opening at the time I was applying turned out to be fantastic for me.
Autre is a fraction of the size of the city where I grew up, but a guy thousands of miles away from home, without friends or family, still quickly found both in this quirky little town. It’s not just the rest of the firefighters—almost all volunteers—at the station or my fire chief, Michael LeClaire. It’s literally almost the entire town. And I’m certainly an honorary member of the Landry family.
Ellie and her husband, Leo, stepped in where I had missed having my grandparents around, and all of her kids have turned into fill-in parents, aunts, and uncles. Her grandkids are definitely like siblings.
For better or worse.
“I’m not gonna be here for dinner tonight. Or for Christmas,” I tell Ellie in a hushed tone. I have to let someone know. Someone being Ellie, because I’d rather not get into it with the whole crowd.
I’ve already told Michael about everything and arranged for coverage, of course. We have fantastic volunteers in town and Autre, and the area will be well taken care of. Michael was a little too happy that I’ve got plans that involved a woman. I’m not going to analyze that. He’s a good friend. He wants me to be happy. I know he’ll want details later, but for now, he just said, “No problem. We’ve got you.”
Ellie’s eyebrows arch. “You planning to set something on fire to get out of Christmas? Because I have a request.”
I chuckle. “You have a request for a building you want set on fire?”
“A couple of ‘em.”
I shake my head with a grin. “I am not setting anything on fire, and don’t tell me, because if and when those buildings go up in flames, I don’t want to have to include in the report that you had it out for them.”
She winks. “Got it. So, what’re you doin’ instead of eatin’ my bread pudding and pecan pie?”
I groan softly. I do love her pecan pie. “I got another invitation.”
Ellie immediately gives me a knowing look. “Is she pretty?”
I grin. “Of course.”
“Do I know her?” Then she waves the towel she’s holding in one hand. “Of course I do.”
