An Inheritance

Chapter 7

“Can I help you?”

“I’m sorry to interrupt, but I’m looking for the pastor of the church.”

 He gave her a bright smile and set aside his binder.  “I’m Pastor Paul.  What can I do for you?”

She hadn’t known what she had expected, but Lauren was surprised to find him rather young, perhaps mid forties. 

“I’m Lauren Labeaux, Alma Labeaux’s granddaughter.  I’m down here cleaning out her cottage and I was hoping you’d be able to tell me a little about her.  I’d never met her, but as I go through her things, I realized I really wish I had.  She intrigues me.”

“I heard you were down here.  Why don’t we go into my office where we can chat?  We have a late afternoon service for those elderly who can’t come to the night services and some tend to come in very early.”  He smiled winningly.  “It gives them a chance to talk and gossip before having to listen to my sermon.” 

Pastor Paul led Lauren into a small office, so small it resembled an alcove with a door.  He motioned for her to sit on a straight back, wooden chair while he sidled around a bookcase and sat down behind his desk. 

“I don’t know what I can tell you, I’ve only been the pastor here for the past six years, so I’m still pretty much an outsider.  To be considered one of the townspeople, you either have to be born here or be related.  Unfortunately Pastor Ben died shortly after I took over; he was almost as old as your grandmother and had known her all his life. He would have been able to tell you much more than I ever could.”

“Anything you’d be able to tell me would be more than what I know now.”

“Well, your grandmother was a valued member of our congregation, and was highly thought of in these parts.  I’m sorry none of her family was able to come to the service.  It was beautiful and drew quite a crowd.”

Did I detect a small dig in that praise?  Lauren wondered.   

“Do you know anything about our family?  Anything about her husbands?”

 “I do know that your family has been living in this area for centuries.  They weren’t the first settlers, but came pretty quickly after that.  They were originally farmers and then merchants.  From what I’ve been told, at one point they were fairly wealthy, but lost most of it after the Civil War.  There was a time during Prohibition that some of the family moved to New Orleans and gained some of that wealth back ‘importing’ liquor.”  The pastor stopped and his face started to redden.  “Here I am, the shepherd of my flock, and I’m gossiping about something I have no first-hand knowledge on.  This is all hearsay.  Some of this came from friends who were more than willing to give me  background for your grandmother’s service.”

Lauren smiled reassuringly.  “No, please, these are things I would like to know.  It gives me a better picture of who my relatives were and quite frankly, they sound pretty interesting.”

Pastor Paul appeared a little sheepish, but continued.  “I don’t know too much about her first husband, but I understand he was involved in construction of some type.  Maybe building roads or bridges?  But he was somehow tied into doing work for the state.  He died rather abruptly if I remember what was told to me.

“But I do know that your grandmother’s second husband, Remy Labeaux, was a very distant cousin, so she remained a Labeaux.  From what I’ve understood, a number of your relatives married distant cousins.  But that wasn’t exactly unusual for these parts, especially in those early years.”

“I took a walk around the family cemetery yesterday and I was amazed at how neat and cared for it appeared to be.  Did my grandmother hire someone to keep it clean?”