“My mother’s East Indian,” she explained to Susan, who’d asked the question.
“She came from India about five years before I was born. My father was raised in Ohio.”
“You have beautiful skin,” Alicia said.
“And eyes,” Susan’s husband, Tom, added. “They’re so unusual.”
Because he’d said next to nothing so far, and that comment had been made with far too much enthusiasm, all heads turned in his direction.
Rather soft but handsome in a slender “polished professional” kind of way, he spread out his hands. “What? She does!”
“Thank you,” Jasmine said and tried not to notice the tightening of Susan’s jaw.
“It’s interesting that your parents come from such different backgrounds.” It was Romain, Sr. who filled the awkward silence. “Where do they live now?”
“They’re divorced. My mother lives in Ohio, where I was born. My father moved to Mobile a few years ago.”
“Alabama?”
“That’s right.”
“Mobile’s not too far from Portsville,” Susan said. “Do you get to see him very often?”
No doubt Romain’s sister was wondering why Jasmine was sitting at their dinner table instead of her own father’s. “Not really. Not since he remarried. And I don’t live in Portsville. I’m from Sacramento.”
Tom’s fork clinked against his plate as he put it down. “Sacramento’s clear across the country. How’d you meet Romain?”
“We know it wasn’t in Sacramento,” Susan said under her breath. “My dear brother would’ve had to leave the bayou for that.”
Romain’s eyes narrowed as he chewed, but he didn’t respond. His mother seemed relieved that he let the barb go, but Jasmine wished he’d say something to steer the conversation away from her. If she told them about her missing sister or her work at The Last Stand, it’d invariably bring up what’d happened to Adele, which wasn’t a subject anyone would enjoy discussing, especially at Christmas dinner.
No one had recognized her from America’s Most Wanted, so she decided to make up a reason for her and Romain to have crossed paths. She hated to lie, but she also didn’t feel her personal details really mattered. After today, she’d never see these people again. “A mutual friend introduced us.”
She felt Romain’s attention settle on her and wondered if he was surprised, but by the time she glanced at him his focus had already shifted to his brother-in-law, who was drinking far more than he ate.
“Who?” Tom asked.
“Poppo,” she said, recalling the bogus name she’d given the old Cajun at the hotel.
“I know a lot of people in Portsville,” Susan said. “We had cousins down there when we were growing up and spent at least a month of every summer on the bayou.
But I don’t recall a Poppo.” Frowning, she focused on Romain. “Do I know him?”
“I’m pretty sure you don’t,” Romain said. Fortunately, he didn’t say that he didn’t know him, either.
“So you crossed four states just to visit Romain?” Tom asked.
“I was already here on vacation when I met Poppo, and he said I could—” she searched for a credible link “—buy some fresh shrimp from Romain.”
“Are you vacationing alone?” Susan asked.
Jasmine turned the stem of her wineglass because it gave her something to do with her hands. “My best friend was planning to come with me, but she recently got married and backed out of the trip.”
Tom didn’t bother to hide his astonishment. “What made you choose Cajun country for a Christmas vacation?”
“I’ve heard a lot about it.”
“Have you ever been here before?” Obviously, he thought she was crazy.
“No.”
“And you have no family in the immediate area.”
“That’s right.”
“Just because you’ve never liked it down here doesn’t mean other people don’t,” Susan muttered.
“I love coming to Mamère’s and Papère’s!” Travis announced. When he tried to fling a pea across the table at his younger brother, his grandfather took away his spoon.
“I realize that some people find this place sort of quaint and charming, but it isn’t Hawaii,” Tom retorted. “I’m amazed that someone from California, who doesn’t have family in the area, would plan a trip to Portsville at Christmas. It’s equally incredible she’d hook up with my brother-in-law, who’s become such a recluse he barely even socializes with his own family anymore.” He lifted his glass as he looked around the table. “Am I the only one who finds that strange?”
The expression on Romain’s face suggested he was about to tell Tom to mind his own business. Tom was getting tipsy and starting to act brash. But Alicia reached over to squeeze Romain’s hand, obviously begging his forbearance, and he managed to reel in his temper.
“No stranger than my brother going to prison in the first place,” Susan said, unable to resist pushing Romain a little further.
“Who went to prison?” Travis asked, suddenly tuning in.
“No one you know.” Alicia’s pointed smile told Susan and Tom to shut up.
Susan seemed cowed because her oldest son had picked up on her words so quickly, but Tom had drunk too much to worry about subtleties.
“No one on my side of the family,” he said.
“Your family has their share of secrets,” Susan responded.
Romain raised his glass to Jasmine. “Isn’t this a pleasant family meal?”
Jasmine smiled helplessly because she didn’t know how to answer. It’d be too obvious a lie to agree. It was all Romain and Susan could do not to wind up in a shouting match; Alicia was constantly running interference by warning this person or that person with a touch or a glance; Romain, Sr. was obviously concerned with helping his wife for the sake of “company;” and Romain clearly wanted to punch Tom in the face. Besides the children, Tom seemed like the only person really enjoying himself. Of course, he’d had enough alcohol to find almost anything enjoyable, but at least someone was smiling.
“Peace on earth, goodwill toward men,” she said and clinked her glass against Romain’s.
His mouth twisted into a wry grin, then he downed his wine and went back to his meal.