Every pew in Our Lady of Mercy Catholic Church seemed full. Momon Odette no doubt would have laughed long and hard at her relatives, especially her children. Leah and Azalei put on a fine show. Both dressed in designer black dresses, they wore long black lace scarves draped over their fancy coiffures. Aunt Leah would break down from time to time. Azalei would dramatically console her.
“Please, give her a little space to breath,” Azalei ordered, pushing against a bulky female cousin to her mother’s right.
“Oh quit puttin’ on so, Leah,” the cousin muttered then was shushed by one of Momon’s sisters.
LaShaun observed them all without turning to look. She sat on the first pew on the opposite side of the sarcastic cousin. LaShaun gazed ahead at the coffin with dry eyes. She had shed her tears in private. Her grief came in waves. For now she was calm, conscious of the curious gazes from the others. Old lessons from her grandmother lingered. Momon Odette had always said, “Keep ‘em guessin’, Cher. If you show emotion before your enemies let it be for a purpose. When it’s time to show folks you’re not to be played with, let ‘em see your wrath. When you need to soften someone to your will, let ‘em see you cry. Always have a purpose. Control, Cher. That’s what I’m talkin’ ‘bout.”
LaShaun had no need to prove to others she felt a loss. Rita’s mother came into the church through a side door. When she walked toward LaShaun the crowd seemed to take in a collective deep breath. Aunt Shirl ignored them. Her husband walked beside her, a protective arm around her waist.
She bent down to LaShaun with a solemn look and said, “Odette would be proud of you. We will find justice, yes?”
“Yes,” LaShaun replied quietly. “I’ll see to that.”
“Good.” She nodded to Momon Odette’s sisters then went to find a seat.
LaShaun stood, motioned to a male cousin who made sure they found a place in the family section. When she sat down again the hum of whispers started again.
Uncle Albert seemed unable to be still. He kept circulating among the family holding conversations. Uncle Leo sat next to his plump wife holding her hand. He waved to people he knew. Several times he left his wife to talk to other mourners. He wore a suitable solemn expression. Uncle Albert on the other hand seemed more animated than usual, almost pleased. LaShaun did not need to wonder what they were up to. When Momon Odette’s lawyer entered the church whispers broke out all around once more. Devin Martin inspired admiring glances from women. He nodded to LaShaun and found an empty space between two women, both of who beamed at their good fortune.
The side doors swung open letting sunlight into the church. Deputy Broussard entered in uniform. The hum of several dozen people speculating reached a crescendo. Heads swung from him to LaShaun to see her reaction. LaShaun kept her expression blank. She turned face forward to stare at her grandmother’s closed coffin. When Father Alvarez entered he glanced around at the crowd with a slight frown of censure. Conversations died away in respectful obedience. With much dignity Father Alvarez conducted the funeral mass.
LaShaun went through the motions of the Funeral Rites, reciting the prayers on autopilot. In LaShaun’s mind her grandmother lived on in many ways, her spirit too strong to simply wisp away. And somehow LaShaun did not believe Momon Odette was through with her family. She loved being in control too much to simply float into the next life; not when so much was left undone in this one. Momon Odette had said as much before she closed her eyes for the final time. Someone had to pay for Rita’s death. Momon Odette still thought to protect LaShaun, and Rita. LaShaun wondered at her grandmother’s last words.
“Cher, it’s time we leave for the cemetery,” Father Alvarez said quietly.
LaShaun blinked out of her reverie. “Yes, father.”
Though her aunt and uncles bristled, Father Alvarez took LaShaun’s hand and led her out ahead of the others behind the casket. Outside the church LaShaun blinked in the bright sunshine. She put on sunglasses then got into the white limo. Two motorcycle deputies revved their motors ready to lead the procession to the St. Francis Cemetery three miles down the road from the church. Aunt Leah gave a small grunt as she plopped down in the seat across from LaShaun in the limo. Uncle Albert and wife came in next. Uncle Leo’s wife dared to sit on the seat next to LaShaun. She gave LaShaun a nervous smile then looked away. Uncle Leo stood just at the door still talking to people, accepting handshakes and condolences.
“Come on, Leo. You’re holding everybody up. The funeral home staff got another service. We ain’t paying for extra just cause you wanna visit,” Uncle Albert grumbled to his brother.
“Right, right,” Uncle Leo replied. Still he took another few moments to slap a few backs before he got in.
LaShaun stared out of the window as her relatives got settled in. At least she wouldn’t have to suffer Azalei’s presence just yet. But she would definitely look up her cousin soon.
“That Deputy Broussard is sticking close to you LaShaun. He’s one of the escorts,” Aunt Leah cocked an eyebrow and glanced around at her siblings and sisters-in-law.
LaShaun slowly turned her head and stared at her aunt in silence for several seconds. “If you say so.”
“Ahem, I’m sure it’s just a coincidence. I don’t think they seriously suspect LaShaun of doing anything,” Uncle Leo piped up in his booming voice.
“Of course not,” his wife agreed in an uneasy tone.
““I don’t think that’s why he’s following her around. More like a lovesick puppy that can’t stay away,” Aunt Leah murmured, her penciled eyebrows going higher.
“Who cares? The thing we need to be concerned about is the will. Now LaShaun,” Uncle Albert huffed.
“Hush, Albert. How unseemly to bring up such matters at mama’s funeral,” Aunt Leah admonished.
LaShaun knew the money was on all their minds. Uncle Albert just lacked the subtlety his sneaky siblings possessed.
“Might as well cut to business. That lawyer came, so why shouldn’t we talk it out?” Uncle Albert spread his hands as though everyone should see his logic.
“Not now, Albert,” Uncle Leo said in a quiet firm tone. “Not now.”
“Humph.” Uncle Albert hunched his shoulders as though in pain, sat back in his seat and stared out the window.
The ride to the cemetery took only a few minutes. They were deposited near the entrance. From there a short walk took them to the graveside. Father Alvarez waited for the family to be seated in a row of folding chairs under a green tent. Most of the crowd from the church spread out behind them. They seemed eager not to miss any part of the infamous Odette Rousselle’s farewell.
Once again LaShaun observed from a distance inside herself. She forgot about her surroundings. Like a slideshow images from her past came to mind. Momon Odette outside in her garden gathering herbs, sunshine making her brown skin glisten. Momon Odette taking LaShaun to her first day at school. Momon Odette laughing at reactions of townspeople when she passed them on the street downtown. How she would miss her. LaShaun wondered if anyone other than her felt the loss. She glanced around, a tear slipping past her defenses. Lance stood at the edge of the crowd staring at her. LaShaun glanced at him. His concern for her bridged the space separating them.
Father Alvarez performed the brief Rite of Final Commendation. And it was over. The crowd should have dispersed but few left. They seemed to be waiting for the next episode in the Rouselle family drama. As though on cue a sheriff’s car pulled up just as LaShaun reached the limo for the ride home. Chad Gautreaux climbed out of the driver’s side of the cruiser. He hitched up his holster belt like a lawman from a vintage western movie.
Uncle Leo strode out to meet him. “How ya doin, deputy. Nice of you to come out and pay respects.”
Chad looked resolute behind his mirrored sunglasses. “Uh, official business.”
“At my mother’s funeral services?” Uncle Leo said, a taken aback expression on his broad face. He glanced around dramatically.
Devin appeared, his lawyerly demeanor in full force. “Anything wrong, deputy?”
“No. Things about to be set right.” Gautreaux went over to LaShaun. “You’re under arrest for the murder of Rita Rousselle.”
Episode 16
