She laughed. “Luc, I love your stores, and everything is delicious. But I’m a teacher and Eileen’s a yoga instructor. She makes everything herself. Haven’t you ever heard you’re supposed to shop the outside of a market for the freshest, cheapest ingredients?”
“I’ve heard it. Done everything I can to overcome that advice, including requiring customers to take a more roundabout tour of the store, not dash in and out of aisles.”
“I was just testing to see if I could still get to you. It appears I can.”
“Congratulations.”
“Least I could do. I like to keep that ego of yours in check, especially after making my tabloid debut. Maybe I’ll get my own reality show now. Mam would be so proud.” As they passed the houses in her mam’s neighborhood, it dawned on her how little had changed inside of her. She could take out a stick right now and run it along the fence with a clacking sound, and listen to Luc’s ideas and dreams as though she was nineteen again and her whole life was in front of her.
Mam’s house came into view, and they both halted. “Before your mam sees us . . . have you told Dexter? About us, I mean?”
“What choice did I have, Luc? I can’t marry a man without his knowing about my past. It wouldn’t be honest— especially since half of New Orleans knows and he’d find out eventually.”
“I’m sorry, Katie. You meant more to me than that. What happened was my fault, and I take—”
“Save it. It doesn’t matter now. We were weak, and I guess we both paid the price.”
“I don’t want to pay the price for the rest of my life, Katie. You’re the only woman I ever lov—”
She put her fingertips over his mouth. “Don’t say it. Don’t ever say it to me again. If you can’t say it in front of Dexter, don’t say it to me.”
Her phone rang again, Etta James resonating on the street. Eileen.
Luc threw his hands in the air. “Doesn’t that guy have a job?”
Katie walked away from him for privacy. “Hello.”
“Katie, how are things going? What was the plane like?”
“Good. Good. Jolly ride here. Yes, Luc is right here.”
“Call me the minute you ditch him, okay?”
“We’re in the Garden District—near where my father . . . you know. Luc was kind enough to make the trip with me.”
“I’m worried about you. I couldn’t teach my class this morning, thinking of what Luc might try on the plane. Did he try anything? Because if he tried anything, so help me—”
Katie looked back at Luc. “Things are fine.”
“Did he try to kiss you?” Eileen grumbled more. “I knew I shouldn’t have let you go alone. The lech.”
“Nothing of that nature, no.” She twisted away from Luc’s ear.
“Just remember. Whatever he’s said to you? He’s probably told three women the same thing this week.”
Katie looked back at Luc and truly wondered. Could a man be that good at faking devotion? She turned away again. “You’d be proud of me. I know my future, and I’m going to leave the forties where they belong after this week. My nana wouldn’t want me living in the past. It’s no good romanticizing an era that’s long gone. There are no heroes. No one is coming to rescue me.”
“You don’t need rescuing. You are a modern woman, capable of taking care of yourself. So it’s a little weird you listen to music from a bygone era and worship dead crooners. At least you didn’t bring voodoo with you. Listen, I’m trying to get my classes covered so I can come. My momma says Pokey isn’t doing well, and I don’t want to miss his last days. It’s bad enough I abandoned him with my mother.”
Pokey, named after the Pokey Little Puppy, was the runt of a litter of puppies left outside her father’s store when the girls were in college. Katie and Eileen had taken the puppy home to the dorm but soon got caught with their contraband, so Pokey had to live with Eileen’s mom.
“What’s the matter with him?” Katie walked ahead of Luc to get a little privacy, but she turned toward the street rather than approach the final walk to Mam’s house. Leon had been quietly trailing them in the limo, and Katie wondered if Luc would get in and leave her there on the street, but they both stayed in position, as if Katie was a pace car in the world’s slowest race.
“Duh, he’s old. Momma says he groans all day and walking looks painful, so I’m coming home. I thought I might as well come while you’re there. Kill two birds with one stone and all that.”
“Can you afford to come on such short notice?”
“Yeah. I’m going to bill Luc for all the time I’ve spent pulling you out of your misery. I mean, he owes me more than airfare in Ben & Jerry’s alone.”
“Eileen, you are not going to take advantage.”
“Are you kidding me? You will not feel sorry for him. I just have to find someone to take over my five a.m. boot camp and I’m covered.”
“It can’t be true that there’s another person willing to get up at that time to hurt other people for money.”
“I change people’s lives,” Eileen said in her drill sergeant voice. “There is nothing like a workout at the crack of dawn. It detoxes the mind, wakes up the brain, and gets one recharged for life. Who wouldn’t want to take my place is the question.”
“People who would rather have Cocoa Pebbles with coffee for breakfast at around, say, nine a.m.?”
“Don’t you dare eat garbage while you’re out there. And tell your mam no fried anything!”
“I’m kidding. I have Café du Monde here. Why on earth would I bother with cereal when I can have beignets?”
“Seriously, Katie, that food takes years off your life. Are you bugging me to avoid discussing your feelings for Luc? The plane ride didn’t rekindle anything, right? You’re not going to do anything stupid while you’re gone?”
“I’m fine. I’ll be home on Sunday with the ring—and maybe a few extra pounds.”
Eileen sighed. “Call me back after you see your mother and as soon as you ditch Archie Leach. Did you notice my Cary Grant reference? That was just for you.”
“Speak of the devil,” Katie said. “Mam’s sitting on her rocking chair in her own wrought iron gallery under the balcony. If I could give you a visual, she’d be the creaky old man in the Pirates of the Caribbean ride. Eileen, you should see her place. No more shotgun house that you could send a bullet through in one fell swoop. She’s in the Garden District, in a real house with a wrought iron balcony and spindle fencing. She has a real New Orleans garden. She’s practically a lady of leisure.”
She felt torn by how much better Mam’s life had apparently become after Paddy’s death. She was a living, breathing advertisement for the benefits of life insurance.
“Just get the ring and come home. That city gets under your skin, Katie, and that dream world of yours with the big bands and men in fedoras and suits. I’m worried you’re going to sing one jazz standard and I’m out a roommate. It’s dangerous out there. Especially for you. Don’t forget it.”
Katie nodded, though Eileen couldn’t see her. “I know. Pray for me. God brought me home for something.”
“You’re not feeling anything for him. Right?” Eileen pressed.
Katie ventured a glance at Luc, then cupped her hand around the cell phone. “Right.” She didn’t know which bothered her more—that she’d lied, or that she was still too weak to overcome Luc’s pull.
Eileen wasn’t finished. “You don’t have to go to the wedding, you know. Get the ring and come home. You don’t need to do Luc any favors.”
“No, I know.”
“What if you sing that song and everything that you once had for him comes back to life? Then by next week he’s moved on. Just bail on Luc, like he did on you. You owe him nothing, Katie. Get the ring and come home.”
Katie’s head throbbed. She didn’t know what to think. She looked at Luc and she believed him, saw the best in him. She looked at the space between them, thought of the time that had elapsed, and Eileen made
complete sense. “I’ll call you in an hour. We’re at Mam’s now.”
“Katie, that man is a menace. This is why you’re marrying Dexter, remember? He’s safe. His love isn’t a roller coaster.”
“I know. You’re right.” Love was patient. Love was kind. Love wasn’t a g-force ride. She said good-bye to Eileen and put her phone away.
Luc caught up with her and pointed. “Did you see your mam on the gallery?”
“I’m still trying to digest it. She looks happy, like the lady of the manor, doesn’t she?”
He grasped her hand and pulled her toward him. “Before we go in—” He put his cheek beside hers and whispered in her ear. “I do love you, Katie-bug, and I’ll say it to you in front of Poindexter and anyone else who’s willing to listen. Is that what you need?”
She pulled his fedora down over his eyes. “I need you to let me out of your grasp.”
He released her hand.
“Not that one. This one,” she said, motioning between them. “Luc, what we had once was incredible. It was beautiful. It showed me how deeply I could love someone. But you have your life and I have mine, and for both of our sakes it’s time to leave this fantasy where it belongs. In the past.”
She tried to will any residual emotions from her core, to judge him impartially, as if he were any other guy on the street, but she found that impossible. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t help but see something deeper than his outward good looks, which seemed no more than a fancy wrapping. How many guys longed for the world to be a simpler place where a man wore a fedora and made a woman feel completely safe and protected, even after he’d broken her heart?
She forced herself to swallow the truth. She didn’t see inside his soul; that was something her childhood fantasies created. He was just a man. A man like King Midas, who turned everything to solid gold, including the beating flesh of her heart. He left things in pieces behind him, a trail of lost beliefs and places only God could fill. She blinked several times, but nothing she’d done gave her immunity. Silently they approached her mother’s house as a united front.
She watched as recognition came across Mam’s face and the swing on the gallery stilled. Mam stood and ran down the steps toward her. “Katie!” Then darkness crossed her expression. “What’s he doing here?”
Age seemed to have no effect on Mam. The black hair was still as jet black as the day Katie left. Her hazel eyes were still bright and full of mischief. Mam had the X factor, whatever that was, and she radiated warmth, but she also saw life through a certain lens. Getting along with Mam meant peering through the same glass.
“Mam, Luc flew me home. Remember?”
“Hmm. Well, you’re here now. Nice to see you, Luc. Good-bye.” Mam took her by both hands. “I can’t believe you’re finally home. My baby girl.” Mam squeezed her cheeks and kissed her on the lips. “No excuse for not coming home sooner.”
“I’m home now.”
Mam lowered her voice. “Why isn’t he leaving?”
Luc nodded his good-bye, tipping his hat. Something had passed between him and her momma, and Katie couldn’t imagine what it might have been. The fact that Luc hadn’t married her was ancient history. Maybe it had something to do with Luc creating a billion-dollar industry out of Paddy’s business. Maybe any allegiance to Luc felt disloyal. Mam may not have thought too highly of Luc, but she’d never been rude to him, or to anyone, that Katie could remember.
Mam’s Southern manners won out. “I suppose you want some tea,” she said.
“That’d be nice, thank you,” Luc said.
Mam huffed. “You always was too good for the likes of normal folk, Luc DeForges. Just like your momma. You go on now. I’ll get you some tea because it’s hot out here, but then you be on your way.”
“Mam!” Being rude to Luc was one thing, but going after a momma, that was pure low.
“He’s got no business being here, Katie Marie. You belong to another man now. It’s not right, and I won’t have any more gossip in this town about my daughter.”
“It doesn’t matter what people say now.”
“Katie, you do as I say.”
Luc tipped his hat. “I’d best be on my way. Thanks for the offer of that tea, Mrs. McKenna.”
As Katie looked down on the street, Leon and the limo were there, as if Luc’s every movement was choreographed and Leon knew the steps.
Mam watched Luc grab Katie’s suitcase from the trunk and set it on the porch. Then he hightailed it back to the car. Any good Southern boy worth his salt knew better than to mess with an angry momma.
“You forget about Luc DeForges,” Mam said. “He’ll pick himself up and dust himself off, don’t you worry.”
“I’ll meet you tomorrow at the club,” Luc yelled from the limo. “I rented it out at noon so you could practice your song with the band. Do you want me to send a car? And, Mrs. McKenna, I’m sorry to have offended you.”
“Slater,” she called back. “It’s Slater now! You don’t have to yell our business across the whole neighborhood, you hear?” Mam turned toward Katie. “You’d think his momma raised him better than that up there in that big house.”
Mam opened her arms again, and Katie fell into them willingly. Her mother still smelled divine, just as Katie remembered: the scent of gardenias, citrus, and a potpourri of kitchen spices. Mam smelled of spring, nourishment, and happiness. How was it her momma could singlehandedly calm her down and send one of the richest men in the country scurrying for higher ground at the same time?
Katie didn’t let go for a long time. She just embraced her mother with the grip of a gator. Mam scowled at the back of the limo as Luc drove off.
“Your new beau doesn’t have a problem with you dancin’ with the likes of that bum?” Irene McKenna’s voice had the nasal quality and lilt of Brooklyn, but she was from the Irish Channel and lived there her whole life until moving Uptown after Paddy died. She still warshed the clothes, though she no longer had to save quatas for the Laundromat.
Katie had to be careful not to fall back into the habit of “tawking” as she had when she entered Loyola University and first became aware of her Irish Channel accent.
“I’m sorry, sweetie, that wasn’t a proper way to welcome you home. Let me look at you.” Mam pulled away and took her by the hands. “Oh, Katie, you’re more gorgeous than ever. God sure did bless you, love. Your Paddy’s mother was a true beauty, even when she was in her eighties. Fresh as a daisy and a twinkle in her eye. I never liked having a mother-in-law prettier than me. This guy, Dex . . . his momma ugly?”
“No, Mam.”
“But uglier than you, right?”
“Well, older than I am. I never thought about—”
“No worries for you. You inherited your nana’s looks in spades. It’s like I’m seeing a ghost. A beautiful, ethereal ghost. Only I think you’re even prettier than Paddy’s mam. It’s all that zinc oxide I made you wear as a child. You’d be prettier still if you lived here and not in that dank California air. A Southern girl needs to care for her dewy skin. That’s why we stay put. How many Southern drawls you hear out in California?”
“Not too many,” Katie admitted.
“That’s because they’re all here, caring for their skin and their families. Speaking of families, Jem has been here to visit now and then since you left.”
“Jem DeForges?”
“Well, how many Jems do you know, Katie?”
“Enough to know I don’t want to get dumped by another one.”
“Jem never would have done that. Three DeForges boys, and you have to pick the wrong one!”
“You’re trying to set me up with Jem now? I’m going to Ryan’s wedding, Mam, and that is the last I will see or hear from the DeForges family. This is my way of cleansing my soul of anything to do with them. But I look forward to seeing Jem. I hear from him once in a while through e-mail. I talked to him after Katrina and got the updates, but that, too, has to stop. I think he feels bad about what L
uc did and wants to make it up to me by being my friend.”
Her mother laughed. “Are you kidding me? Jem DeForges has loved you since he laid eyes on you when his brother brought you home from college.”
“Mam, you always imagined that. Jem and I were friends, nothing more. He’s like a brother to me. Besides, I’m done here. I’m done with New Orleans and anything with the name DeForges. I don’t even shop in the store. I’m marrying Dexter Hastings, and I like California.”
“We’ll see about that. Not many a worthy Yankee out there. You’ve just left your roots for a time, that’s all. Like the Bible says, raise them up in the way they should go, and they’ll return to it. The South will rise up in you. You wait and see. I got us a forty-pound bag of mudbugs in an ice chest. We goin’ to have us a crawfish boil tonight.”
Mam said “crayfish beryle” in the Luziana accent that always came out when she cooked or when she was angry. Her IQ seemed to drop fifty points when talking food or making a point.
“Crawfish?” Katie clapped her hands together. “Really? I hope forty pounds is enough. It’s been a long time.”
“They’s soaking now. Whoo-ee, you should have seen the mud in this batch. I think Rusty washed them out a good three times. You hungry? I’ll get the water heating.” She shouted into the house, “Rusty, fire up that propane torch. Katie’s here!”
“Seriously, Mam, what are we going to do with forty pounds of crawfish?”
“Well, we’re going to feed everyone coming to see my daughter, that’s what we’re going to do with it. Come on in the house here, you can help me shuck the corn.”
“Mam, you invited people here tonight? I haven’t even met my stepfather yet. I thought we’d have so much to catch up on.”
“We ain’t got no secrets. Just because you make me come out to see you doesn’t mean I don’t bring the news back. I’m proud of my daughter.”
Mam came to visit when Rusty was on extended fishing trips. And since Katie hadn’t been back home, she had no idea what to expect in her mother’s husband. She wondered if he’d be like Paddy. Or maybe his polar opposite.
“I’m just nervous, Mam. I haven’t met Rusty yet.”
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