The weather on the following Sunday, however, turned out to be a different matter.
Dark storm clouds were threatening in the sky as Anne crawled out of bed, glanced out the window, scowled, and then returned to the comfort of her cotton/polyester blend sheets. She'd be damned if she was getting up before it was absolutely necessary on one of her only two mornings out of the week to sleep in, especially when the weather was bad.
It was a little past ten when she finally arose for the second time, stumbled into the kitchen, made the coffee, and grabbed a couple of pop tarts. The rain continued to beat against the windows as she finished her breakfast and cleaned up in the kitchen.
Looking into the closet an hour or so later, she was faced with a dilemma. What did one wear to a fais do do? "Hmm," she mumbled as her eyes swept over the silks, the laces, the chiffons, at last deciding to play it safe with a black polyester/spandex blend with a v-neck and athletic fit. It was sexy but not overly so, she decided. She chose black hose and heels to go with it, and a black headband for her hair, which was so dark she knew it probably wouldn't even show.
As twelve thirty approached and the rain showed no sign of abating, she began to wonder whether or not he'd be brave enough to get out in it, after all. Twelve thirty came and went, then twelve forty-five. She was just about to give up and change back into her pajamas when she heard the bell and picked up the security phone. The viewer activated and his face showed on the screen.
"Hi Louis, when you hear the buzzer, open the door and come on inside. The stairs are in the middle of the foyer. I live one flight up. Knock on the door when you find apartment 201."
When he arrived, she saw that his face was slightly flushed and his hair was wet and dripping on the carpet. He was wearing a pale blue button-down broadcloth dress shirt with khaki pants and oxblood wingtips. "Sorry I'm a bit late." He gave a shaky smile. "Traffic was slow, and a road was closed due to heavy flooding, so I had to take a detour."
"Oh, that's all right!" Relief flooded through Anne. "I'm sorry you got wet. Would you like to come inside for a drink first?"
"It'll have to be a quick one, or my Mom will wonder what happened to me. She's been that way ever since Joseph - well, I just don't want to make her worry."
"Of course. I understand completely." Was he a mama's boy? Time would tell, she supposed.
"Nice place you have here," he remarked as she dashed into the kitchen and returned a moment later with a couple of flavored waters.
"Peach mango all right? It's my favorite."
"It's fine. Thanks."
"We can drink them on the way, if you want."
"Great idea." They walked down the stairs and across the balcony of the shotgun-style building to his car, which turned out to be a late-model four-door beige Kia Rio. Louis went to the passenger side and opened Anne's door for her, and she smiled and thanked him before sitting down.
As it turned out, Uncle Phillipe owned a large, two-story plantation-style house supported by six pillars with an upper-floor balcony with railings and a large front porch downstairs. A small hedge ran around the front of the house, and the lawn was immaculate. The rain had finally stopped, and the wet grass glistened in the sun. Anne moved her lips to form a silent 'wow' as Louis escorted her to the front door, and she could hear the faint strains of zydeco music before they'd reached it.
Louis rang the bell, and they were admitted into the house, where he led her down a short hallway to the room in which the fais do do was taking place. It turned out to be a spacious room about the size of a school cafeteria. One man was playing accordion while another played a rub board, and the floor was filled with couples dancing. A long table on the far side of the room held many different dishes, and a few people were standing around talking. A middle-aged woman with blonde hair, dark eyes, and Louis' face hurried toward them, calling Louis' name.
"Mom, this is Anne Boleyn, the woman I was telling you about," Louis said to her.
"It's so nice to meet you, dear." Louis' mother seemed to have none of her son's shyness as she smiled and clasped Anne's hand. "Louis has told us so much about you."
"It's lovely to meet you as well, Mrs. Bourbon."
"Would you like something to eat?" Louis gestured toward the table.
"That would be nice." Anne hadn't eaten a thing since the pop tarts and was now starving.
Louis had no sooner walked away than Anne heard a voice right behind her. "Well, hello there, beautiful! Where have you been all my life?"
She turned to see a slightly younger and even better looking version of Louis leering at her. "Hiding from you," she wanted to retort but bit her lip.
"She isn't your flavor of the week, Charlie." Louis had returned with her food and was now glaring at his brother.
"Aw." Charlie grinned, obviously not caring in the least as he joined a group of chattering young women, who immediately surrounded him.
"I see you've met Charlie." Louis snorted as he handed her the plate, which was filled with boiled crawfish, dirty rice, and cheese biscuits. Anne thought of her cousin Kitty and wondered how two brothers could be such polar opposites.
"In a manner of speaking." She wondered which of the adoring females would share Charlie's bed that night.
Louis gave a sharp laugh, and then his countenance brightened. Anne saw that a college-aged woman was walking toward them. She bore a strong resemblance to both Louis and Charlie.
"My sister, Elisabeth." Louis gave a fond smile as he embraced the young woman. "Elisabeth, this is Anne Boleyn."
"How do you do." Anne gave the young woman a warm smile as she extended her hand.
"I'm fine, thanks." Elisabeth smiled and shook Anne's hand but didn't meet her eyes. Obviously just as shy as her brother, Anne told herself.
She'd finished most of the food on her plate when the accordion and rub board players began a new song. Louis bowed to Anne. "Shall we dance?"