Page 48 of Xavier

“I will,” Xavier promised.

They left moments later.

Lissette sat silently in the truck on the way to the next house, her heart swelling at Mrs. Paget’s reluctant acceptance.

She carried that warmth through the insults and accusations she found in the next three homes, not letting them get her down.

Her grandmother’s friend had been kind to her.

She was almost afraid to hope.

Dusk had settled over the bayou by the time they drove up to the last house call.

A weathered gray house stood on stilts next to a canal. Grass stood knee-high in the yard; an old camp trailer leaned on a flat tire; honeysuckle vines twisted around the hitch, hiding it from view.

A television blared so loudly that the home’s occupant didn’t hear Lissette knock. After two of her attempts, Xavier stepped around her, pounded his fist against the door and yelled, “Hello! Anyone home?”

The television volume diminished and several long moments later, a man as old, gray and weathered as the house opened the door. “You don’t have to yell,” he shouted. “I heard you.”

“Mr. Smith,” Lissette smiled. “Madame Gautier sent me to check on you and bring some food.”

Mr. Smith squinted down at Lissette. “Eh? What did you say?”

“I said,” Lissette took a deep breath and belted out, “Madame Gautier sent me with food.” She shoved the container into his hands. “A hurricane is coming. We might have to evacuate.”

“What’s this?” he asked, narrowing his eyes at the container.

“Food!” Lissette yelled.

“You don’t have to yell,” Mr. Smith shouted. “I heard you. Is that all you have to say?”

Tired and getting hangry, Lissette nodded. “Yes, sir.”

Before she could take a step back, Mr. Smith closed the door in her face. A moment later, the volume on the television ratcheted up, nearly shaking the walls.

Lissette sagged against the doorframe and stared up at Xavier. After everything that day, she could either cry or laugh. The sick humor of all the encounters bubbled up inside Lissette and came out in a giggle, then a chuckle and, finally, full-on laughter that had her doubled over, clutching her belly.

Xavier chuckled, then laughed, too.

The laughter soon changed to tears, spilling down Lissette’s cheeks.

Xavier pulled her into his arms and held her on the porch of a weathered gray house.

They stood in the darkening night until her tears stopped flowing.

“I’m sorry,” she said and pushed away from him, scrubbing the moisture from her cheeks. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I made a rule back when I was ten that I’d never cry again.” She looked up at him through her watery eyes. “Guess that’s me. A rule breaker.” She lifted the ankle with the ankle bracelet. “I wonder if they have something like this that keeps you from losing it in front of sexy men.”

He slipped an arm around her and walked her down the steps and to the truck. As he handed her up into the passenger seat, he grinned up at her. “So, you think I’m sexy, do you?”

She twisted her lips. “You caught me at a weak moment. Forget I said it.”

He shook his head. “Can’t. I’m sexy.” He closed the door and walked around the front of the truck with a shit-eating grin spread across his face.

When he climbed into the truck, he was singing, “I’m sexy, and I know it.”

She shot him a glare. “You’re impossible.”

“No,” he said and shifted into drive. “I’m sexy, and I know it.”