I craned to see the two old men. Dog Leg looked happy, and that was enough for me. “So what do you think? Will Monroe stick around this time?”
Gabriel lifted one shoulder. “He won’t have much choice if he goes to jail.”
“I don’t think that’s going to happen,” I said. “I heard from Sullivan this afternoon. The district attorney isn’t going to prosecute. The statute of limitations ran out long ago on the armed robbery charges, and there’s no evidence to build a case against any of the gang on the murder charges.”
Gabriel looked surprised. “Even with Grey’s confession?”
I nodded. “He’s recanting already, and even with my testimony the case isn’t strong enough to get a conviction on Tyrone’s murder.”
Gabriel rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Then I guess there’s not much for Monroe here except his brother. But to hear him talk there’s nothing for him anywhere else. His wife died a few years back, and his kids are scattered around the country. Busy with their own lives. I think he’ll give it a try here. Maybe now that the truth is out, he’ll be able to patch things up with the rest of the gang.”
“Those old folks really wormed their way into your heart, didn’t they?” I teased.
“Not all of them,” Gabriel said. “But I have to admit I’m really going to miss seeing Lula Belle.”
I laughed. “Should I be jealous?”
“Well, she did try to warn you.”
“Yes she did.” I heard Old Dog Leg laugh, and I turned in time to see Monroe grin. It did my heart good to see them together and that Monroe really would give sticking around a fair shake. When I turned back to Gabriel, he’d grown serious again.
“And what about the professor?”
“Sullivan told me that Grey’s condition has been upgraded to stable. He’ll remain under a doctor’s care for a while, and the district attorney is going to ask the judge to be lenient when it comes to sentencing in light of his advanced age and his health issues.”
Gabriel’s expression went from Sexy Cajun to Volcanic Eruption in a blink. “Lenient? Are you kidding me? The guy is certifiable. He shot Tyrone, he poisoned Dontae, and he would have killed you if he hadn’t keeled over.”
My independent streak reared its ugly head, but I shoved it down again. Everything he said was true, and I couldn’t blame him for being concerned. “He’s also eighty-two years old. I don’t think prison with a bunch of gangbangers and meth heads is the answer for him.”
“I don’t see why not. It would give him a steady supply of underprivileged youth to perform for.”
“They’re not talking about letting him go free,” I said. “They’re going to ask that he spend the rest of his life under a doctor’s care.”
“If by doctor you mean psychiatrist, that might be okay. The man’s dangerous, Rita. He shouldn’t just be allowed to walk away after what he did.”
I held up both hands in surrender. “Again, I don’t disagree. I just don’t think it makes sense to throw a sick old man into the general prison population. I hope they can find a compromise that works for everyone.”
“Yeah. Okay. Whatever.” The music stopped, and Gabriel pushed away from the bar.
I reached for his hand before he could get away. “Thanks for caring, Gabriel. I mean that.” Neither of us moved for a few seconds until another group of patrons entered the bar, Gabriel pulled his hand away. “Duty calls. They’ll be starting their set soon. What can I get you?”
How about one of your incredible margaritas?” I said, reaching for my wallet.
“On the house,” Gabriel said, patting the bar in front of him a couple of times. “Call it a divorce present.”
A smile spread across my face. “Let’s not get a divorce,” I said. “Let’s go straight for an annulment.”
He laughed and his tension evaporated. “Ouch, that hurts. My ego may never be the same.”
“You were a pain in the butt as a husband,” I said. “But it was kind of fun, wasn’t it?”
“Yeah. Right up to the part where you almost died. No man should lose his wife before the marriage is even consummated. It’s not right.”
“Ah! I see where your priorities lie.”
He waved me off. “Go. Sit with your crew. I’ll send your drink over.” He jerked his chin toward several tables pushed together near the dance floor, where I saw that the Zydeco staff had all congregated.
Grinning from ear to ear, I made my way across the bar. I grabbed an empty chair from a nearby table and carried it with me the rest of the way. Isabeau greeted me with a little wave, and Ox gave me a manly nod. Sparkle rolled her eyes in my direction and looked away slowly, and Estelle shouted, “Rita’s here y’all!” in case someone hadn’t noticed.
Dwight scooted over a bit to make room for me, and I wedged my chair between his and Edie’s.
I thought I spotted dark circles under her eyes, but she greeted me with a smile, so maybe it was just a trick of the light.
“How did your meeting with Miss Frankie and her attorney go?” she asked.
“It went well,” I said. “Now we just have to cross our fingers and hope for a quick sale.”
“How likely is that to happen?”
“No idea. It could take a while, but at least we’re doing something to improve the situation . . . right?”
She shrugged.
I pressed on. “Just don’t give up on me, okay? You can’t leave Zydeco.”
She turned her head slowly. This time I was sure about the shadows beneath her eyes. Was she ill or just tired? “You don’t need me, Rita. You don’t even really like me. You only put up with me because of Philippe.”
I stared at her with my mouth wide open. “Is that what you really think?”
She stared back. “Are you trying to claim that we’re friends?”
I wouldn’t have said friends, but we’d been friendly—sort of.
Okay, she was right. Philippe had liked her; I’d tolerated her, usually in an annoyed manner because of the thing she had for Philippe way back when. He hadn’t shared her feelings, but that didn’t change the fact that she’d had them.
But as the folks at the Love Nest would say, that was all water under the bridge. And that’s what I told her.
She ducked her head, probably embarrassed to find out that I’d known how she felt all along. “Nothing happened between us, you know.”
“I know. That’s why you’re still at Zydeco.” I grinned.
Her porcelain-doll lips quirked ever so slightly, but her eyes were still glazed with worry. The cocktail waitress interrupted us to bring my margarita, and I took a sip. Sweetly sour. Icy cold. A perfect rim of salt. Gabriel was so much more than just a pretty face.
“What if we can’t pull Zydeco out of this hole?” Edie asked, jarring me from my private margarita moment.
“We will,” I assured her.
“But what if we can’t?”
“We will,” I said again. “Miss Frankie’s property will sell just in time. We’ll get the money we need just in time. We’ll get the customers we need to stay afloat between now and then, and we’ll be fine.”
Edie’s lips twitched again. “I think you’re being naïve.”
The band took the stage again, and the lead singer, an aging guy with a long gray ponytail and a Fu Manchu moustache that would have put Fu himself to shame, introduced Old Dog Leg and his brother Monroe.
We fell silent and listened to them play. Despite all the years I spent with Philippe, it wasn’t until I’d moved here to New Orleans that I’d really begun to learn about jazz, and though I couldn’t name the first two numbers they played, at least the tunes sounded familiar. I counted that as a personal milestone—proof that I was acclimating to life in the Big Easy.
As they started the third song, Edie nudged me with her elbow and leaned close to shout in my ear. “I don’t know if I can wait.”
I dragged my attention away from the music and frowned at her. “Why not?”
I cupped a hand around my ear to indicate that I hadn’t understood, and then tried again to plead for patience. “Stick with me, Edie. Please. If we succeed, we succeed as a team. If we fail, at least we go down fighting.”
She shook her head and said something back to me, but the music swallowed her words again.
I shook my head again and mouthed, “Later.”
But she seemed determined to make me understand. “I wish . . . don’t have time.”
That got my attention. “Why? What do you need? Tell me and I’ll find a way to get it for you.”
She sighed with frustration and put both hands to her mouth. Just as the music died away, she bellowed, “I’m pregnant!”
People sitting a couple of tables away burst into spontaneous applause. The reaction at Zydeco’s table was a bit more delayed. Dwight swore. Ox tipped back his head and laughed. Isabeau bounded out of her seat and wrapped Edie in an enthusiastic hug, and Estelle called over a cocktail waitress so she could order a round for the table.
Sparkle and I remained quiet. I was trying to figure out what I’d do with nine months of Edie fueled by emotions and hormone surges. Sparkle was apparently pondering something more concrete.
“Who’s the father?” she asked when everyone settled down again.
Good question. I never would have asked that—at least not now, at the Duke, with everyone listening in. I hadn’t even been aware that Edie was dating anyone. But that didn’t stop me from holding my breath while I waited for the answer.
Edie waved away the question. “Nobody you know.”
“Are you going to keep it?” Sparkle asked.
Edie frowned at her. “Yeah. I am. Do you have a problem with that?”
Sparkle actually smiled. “Naw. I love kids.”
“The point is,” Edie said, turning back to me, “I need things to be stable in my life right now. I have to know I can pay my rent and that I’m not going to lose my health insurance. I kind of need it right now.”
I gulped another mouthful of margarita and sent her my very best smile. “You can pay your rent, and you’ll have insurance. I promise.” And then I put my arm around her shoulders and said, “You’re going to be okay, Edie. We’ll make sure of it.” I looked at the others for backup, and bless their hearts, every person at the table gave it.
Edie grabbed a wad of napkins from the center of the table and pressed them to her eyes, and beneath my arm her shoulders began to shake.
I didn’t know what else to say, so I told her what I’d want someone to tell me under the same circumstances. It’s all I could do.
“It’s going to be okay,” I said again. “You’re going to be okay. We’ll look out for you and for the baby. We’re family at Zydeco, and that’s what family does.”
Edie pulled the napkins away from her eyes and sniffed loudly. She gulped hard, then gave a little laugh that might have been relief and threw her arms around my neck.
I could feel hot tears on my shoulder as I looked around the table at my staff. They were watching me carefully, listening to every word I said and filing away the promises I’d just made for future reference. They’d hold me to them and keep my feet on the ground. I could see it in their faces. But that’s also what family does.
I had no idea how I was going to keep the promises I’d just made, but as I looked into the eyes of my friends, I knew I’d find a way.
The important thing was I wouldn’t have to do it alone.
Recipes
Blueberry Sour Cream Coffee Cake
Yields one 9-inch Bundt cake
This is a delicious if admittedly less-than-healthy coffee cake. It’s been a family favorite for years. Adjust the bake time to a bit longer if you’re using frozen berries.
1 cup butter, softened
2 cups white sugar
2 eggs
1 cup sour cream
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1 ½ cups plus 2 tablespoons all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 cup fresh or frozen blueberries
1/2 cup brown sugar
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/2 cup chopped pecans
1 tablespoon confectioners’ sugar for dusting
Preheat the oven to 350°F (175°C). Grease and flour a 9-inch Bundt pan.
In a large bowl, cream together the butter and sugar until light and fluffy. Beat in the eggs one at a time, then stir in the sour cream and vanilla. In a separate bowl, combine the flour, baking powder, and salt; stir the flour mixture into the wet ingredients until just blended. Fold in the blueberries.
Spoon half of the batter into the prepared pan. In a small bowl, stir together the brown sugar, cinnamon, and pecans. Sprinkle half of this mixture over the batter in the pan. Spoon the remaining batter over the pecan mixture, and then sprinkle the remaining pecan mixture over the top. Use a knife or thin spatula to swirl the pecan-sugar layer into the cake.
Bake for 55 to 60 minutes in the preheated oven, or until a knife inserted into the crown of the cake comes out clean. Cool in the pan on a wire rack. Invert the cake pan onto a serving plate, and tap firmly to remove the cake from the pan. Dust with confectioners’ sugar just before serving.
* * *
White Chocolate Raspberry Cake
FOR THE CAKE
3/4 cup butter, softened
2 1/4 cups sugar
4 eggs
1 cup white chocolate chips, melted and cooled
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
3 cups flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1 cup buttermilk
FOR THE FILLING
2 cups fresh or frozen raspberries
3/4 cup water
1/2 cup sugar
3 tablespoons cornstarch
FOR THE FROSTING
1 8-ounce package cream cheese (or Neufchatel cheese), softened
1 cup white chocolate chips, melted and cooled (or substitute vanilla chips)
1 12-ounce container of refrigerated whipped topping, such as Cool Whip (or 1 1/2 cups very stiffly whipped cream)
Fresh raspberries for garnish
FOR THE CAKE
Preheat the oven to 350°F (175°C). Grease and flour two round 9-inch cake pans.
In a large bowl, cream together the butter and sugar until fluffy. Add the eggs one at a time, mixing well after each addition. Beat in the melted chocolate and vanilla. In a separate bowl, combine the flour, baking powder, and baking soda.
Add the flour mixture to the butter mixture, one third at a time, alternating with some of the buttermilk after each addition. Stir until well combined.
Divide the batter evenly between the cake pans.
Bake in the preheated oven for 28 to 32 minutes until a toothpick inserted in the center of the cakes comes out clean. Cool 10 minutes in the pan, then turn the cakes out onto a wire rack to finish cooling.
FOR THE FILLING
In a small saucepan, bring the raspberries and water to a boil. Reduce heat and simmer for 5 minutes. Using a fine sieve, strain the raspberry mixture into a bowl. With a fork, press down on the berries to release their juice and pulp; discard the seeds and any remaining solids. In the same saucepan, combine the sugar and the cornstarch, and stir in the raspberry puree until smooth. Bring the mixture to a boil, then cook and stir for 2 minutes until thick. When cool, spread the filling on top of one of the cake layers.
FOR THE FROSTING
In a large bowl, beat the cream cheese until fluffy, stir in the melted chocolate chips, and then fold in the whipped topping. Spread about a third of the frosting on the raspberry-filling-covered cake layer, then stack the second layer on top. Frost the top and sides of the cake,
and garnish with fresh raspberries. Store in the refrigerator.
* * *
Cilantro Almond Chicken Salad
Serves 8 to 10
This recipe is adapted from the Village Tea Room, in New Paltz, New York. You can make it with any cooked chicken (rotisserie, roast, and maybe even canned if you’re short on time), but for the best tasting and, if you are preparing the chicken yourself, the least heat-producing version in your summertime kitchen, use freshly poached chicken breasts. Skin-on, bone-in breasts produce meat with more flavor, and you can use the poaching liquid later for soups and sauces if you want.
FOR THE CHICKEN
4 large chicken breast halves, with skin and bone (about 1 pound each)
1/3 cup kosher salt
1 small carrot
1/2 onion
1/2 celery rib
4 parsley sprigs
2 to 3 quarts water
FOR THE DRESSING
2 cups slivered blanched almonds (about 6 ounces)
3 garlic cloves
1/2 to 1 fresh hot jalapeño, coarsely chopped, including seeds
3/4 cup mayonnaise
1/2 cup sour cream
1/2 cup fresh lime juice, or to taste
1 tablespoon kosher salt, or to taste
3 cups chopped cilantro
ACCOMPANIMENTS
Mixed greens; roasted yellow, orange, or red bell peppers
POACH THE CHICKEN:
Coat the chicken with the kosher salt and let it sit in a large bowl at room temperature for about 20 minutes. Turn once or twice during the standing time.
Rinse the salt from the chicken, and put chicken breasts in a deep pot with the vegetables and the parsley. Add enough water to cover. Over medium-high heat, bring the pot just to a boil and skim the froth.
Reduce heat to a bare simmer (the water should “tremble,” but you don’t want big bubbles erupting on the surface) and poach the chicken, uncovered, for about 25 minutes, or until its internal temperature reads 160°F on an instant-read thermometer.
Remove the pot from the heat and let the breasts stand, uncovered, for about 20 minutes. Transfer the chicken to a large bowl and let it cool. If desired, reserve the broth; discard the vegetables and let the broth cool before chilling.
Arsenic and Old Cake Page 27
