by Sienna Mynx
We heard the door open and slam. Georgie frowns. I run over to the saxophone and pick up the case. I bring it over and drop it on her lap.
“Owe!” Georgie exclaims.
“Hush, he ask and it’s yours. Okay?”
“Coco!” My brother yells.
“In here Nathan,” I answer and turn on the television. I swap to a movie channel in time before he walks in. Nathan glances to Georgie first and then to me.
“What are you doing back so early? I thought you had business in Lafayette?”
“A meeting. It ended it and I came back. Can you fix me some dinner?” he asks.
“No can do. I’m hanging with Georgie.”
“Hi Nathan!” Georgie smiles. My best friend had a crush on Nathan when we were teens. I think he took her virginity. She won’t confess it. But I got my suspicions. It’s gross. Nathan is ten years older than us both.
“You two was together last night. Don’t you have school?” Nathan asks while staring at Georgie like a horny wolf.
“Mind your business!” I snap my fingers to get him to stop leering at my friend. “And for your information we are on spring break. I can come and go as I please.”
“Fix me something to eat or you won’t have a spring break, ya heard me?”
“I hate you,” I mumble.
Nathan rolls his eyes and walks out. He doesn’t even notice the black case Georgie put at her feet. We pause for a minute until we are sure he is out of hearing distance.
“I can’t hang out here. Nathan is always breathing down my neck or wanting me to feed him. Can I stay with you?”
Georgie nods. “I guess, but you know I only have one bedroom and Marcel is my bedmate. Girl I’m a screamer.”
“Ewl.”
Georgie laughs.
“Fine with me. If my plan works I’ll have my own Cajun bedmate.”
Georgie giggles. “I can tell you this. You want his attention? Take him back his saxophone.”
“That’s the plan. Let me feed Nathan so he’ll cool off and give me my car keys. Then I’m going to go get dressed and pack some clothes.”
“Wait!” Georgie says. “What about Xavier? I thought you two had plans for spring break? Something with his family in Destin, right?”
“Nope. He cancelled. Said he and his boys were going to Destin instead. The asshole doesn’t want to be around me no more than I want to be around him.”
“Coco, that’s not true. If you give him a chance and stop all of this, maybe it’ll work out. Shoot, Xavier is fine honey. You could do a lot worse.”
“Forget him! Let me feed baby bear and then we out of here!”
I’m sitting here not sure I believe the bullshit Marcel is feeding me. He passes me the blunt and I take another slow drag. The weed fills my lungs and my frustration is released with a deep exhale. I’d been smoking weed since I was eight. Had my first joint with Smoke down in the Quarter. He told me not to tell Pops but I doubt my father would care. It’s my mother who I didn’t want to disappoint. True story. I had a stuttering problem as a kid. I used to get teased relentlessly. But when I started working with Smoke, and smoking herb plus taking saxophone lessons it corrected itself. My Ma thought Smoke was some kind of healer. Smoke was a healer alright. They didn’t call him Smoke for nothing.
“So let me get this straight. She’s in an arranged marriage?”
Marcel chuckles. “Sounds like bullshit, I know.”
“It is. No one does that shit anymore but us Cajuns,” I chuckle.
“It’s the truth man. Her people are bonkers like that. This cat name Xavier Lacroix is an attorney. Georgie says he might be President someday.”
I close my eyes and exhale. I don’t really care to hear more of this strange story. I don’t need the hassle. Coco was far too complicated for my taste. It was good while it lasted. Time to move on.
“Call Georgie and find out when I’m getting my horn back.”
Marcel makes the call and I extinguish the blunt with my thumb. The incense is burning all around and it’s as intoxicating as the contact smoke. I’m relaxed now and with my mind free I can see her in the shower, in my bed, at the kitchen sink. I get flashes after flashes and my dick is hard.
“Georgie said she’ll bring it by the club this afternoon.”
That irks me. It pisses me off. I want it now. It’s like taking my rib and tossing it in the back yard. I itch to go out and fetch it, but I got a leash on my neck. Before I object there is a knock at the door. I open my eyes as Marcel goes over to answer. And in walks Domino. Now my high is blown. I don’t feel like dealing with this bastard.
“W’sup Marcel,” Domino greets him.
“Thanks for coming ova’ man,” Marcel says.
“Fo-sho, ’sup Brick.”
I don’t speak. It’s my fucking place and I don’t have too. I’m in no mood. Domino glares at me but he walks over and takes a seat. He picks up my blunt and remove his lighter. Ignorant asshole, he should ask. I cut my gaze over to Marcel who gives me that pleading nod to play nice. To hell with it, let him take a hit from the peace pipe. I want this Paris gig. Something legit. Something to show my Pops and my brothers that I’m not a joke. I’m the real thing.
I sit up and shake off my irritation. It’s time to talk business.
“Alright boys. Let’s get to it. We might have another shot at this. But I need you two on board. Ya heard me? We do this we do it together.”
“Indeed.” Domino says and blows smoke toward me.
I glare at him. “Yea, indeed.”
The parking on Dauphine Street is really tight. It’s only five in the afternoon. Most of the tourist crowd isn’t expected to this early in the French Quarter. Then I realize the main attraction on Dauphine is Cajun Jack’s Crawfish House. It makes me hopeful that what Georgie confirmed about Brick is true. He’s inside. I have his number now. It’s in my phone. But I figure it’s best we see each other face to face. After all I was pretty abrupt with him when I asked him to leave. And there is the chance he won’t even want to be bothered with me.
With his saxophone case in my hand I start toward the club. Immediately I regret the shoes I’m wearing. I like my height in heels but walking around the Quarter in my expensive pumps can be treacherous. I’ve changed into jeans and a tight fitted sleeveless crop top. I took the time to curl and press my hair. It’s already getting frizzy in the N’awlins humidity.
Instead of finding a man on a stool waiting to yam it up with me I find the door to the club locked and closed. It’s apparent The Bone Room isn’t open. I knock a couple of times and then switch hands with the saxophone case to dig out my cell phone.
The door opens and I have to step back to avoid being smacked by its outward swing. An older very dark skinned man with a fedora on his head and a toothpick in his mouth fixes his eyes on me. He looks shocked, and then displeased.
“Hi! I’m Coco. I’m here to see Brick? I have something for him.”
I lift the saxophone case to show it. The man looks even more confused to see it in my hand. He nods and holds the door for me. Entering the club in the daytime felt odd. And to my surprise the bar isn’t closed. There were men seated at the bar drinking. A man up on the stage working on lights.
“Sumthin’ to drink?” the man who let me in asked me.
“Sure, is Brick around?”
“He just stepped out. Here, give me this, he let you handle Jezebel?” the man said as if disappointed.
“Oh, not really. He left her at my place. I was just brining it back. He calls her Jezebel?”
“No, I call her that. Brick still ain’t named his sax. It’s a personal thing, he’ll get around to it.” The man walked around the bar and I took a seat on the corner.
“Name is Smoke, that bald guy over there is Cricket. And those two at the bar are Ronnie and Jacob.”
The men all give me an appreciative glance. They’re older. The men seated drinking beer have to be in their fifties, and the man behind
the bar had to be as old as Smoke, who I guess to be somewhere in his sixties.
“So you came in last night. I saw you down in the Bone Room,” Smoke says.
“Yes. I had a nice time. Everyone here is so talented.”
“You from around here?” he asks.
“Kind of, my family is from out of Houma, we’ve relocated to Shreveport after Katrina.” I take the soda and rum. I sip. Smoke is busy setting up glasses but I know he’s not done snooping.
“Who are your people? I got family out in Houma.”
“Larue,” I say.
Smoke gaze lifts and I know in that instant he knows more about ‘my people’ than even I do. He stares at me for a long pause then goes back to setting up glasses. “I’m not sure when Brick will return you can leave Jezebel with me and I’ll tell him you came by.”
“I think I’ll wait. If you don’t mind.”
Smoke looks as if he does and its kind of uncomfortable for me. If I didn’t know any better I’d say Smoke doesn’t like me. He doesn’t say so. He gives me a tight lipped smile and then walk out from behind the bar. The conversation is over. Now, I’m sitting alone sipping my soda and rum. Once Smoke ignores me so do the other men. I have to call Cricket by name to ask for another drink. After about forty minutes of waiting and surfing the internet on my phone I give up. Brick isn’t there. I ease off the bar stool and get my purse.
“Aye, yo Smoke?” I hear Brick say.
I glance back and Brick’s coming up from below. He’d been downstairs in the Bone Room the entire time? At first he doesn’t see me. He walks straight to Smoke. But then I guess he catches a glimpse of me from the corner of his eye.
He pauses and then looks at Smoke for an explanation. The older man walks off while mumbling. Brick starts straight for me.
“What you doing here?”
“Waiting on you,” I say with a smile.
“Waiting on…” He glances to Cricket and then to me. He looks angry.
“I bought Jezebel. Smoke took her away. I asked to see you and he told me to sit here. Well, he kind of just left me sitting here after he said you weren’t here.”
Brick takes my hand and walks me away from the bar. The others at the bar try not to look, but I can see they are staring from under their lowered gazes. He takes me down the stairs to the place where it all began. Where I fell hard for his style. It’s empty below. But I can see he is in the middle of putting something together. There are pieces all scattered over the floor.
“What are you doing here?” he asks me again as he walks over to the booth. I follow and when he sits I ease inside with him. He’s surprised and scoots over to make room.
“I was being a real bitch earlier.”
His brows lift.
“When I asked you to leave. You asked me a question and I was caught off guard. I didn’t mean… well, I came to apologize and to explain.”
“Why?”
“What do you mean, why? After yesterday, I think I owe you some kind of explanation. Right?”
“Yesterday was fun. You came to the Bone Room for a good time. I showed you one. That’s it. One and done baby.”
Now I’m mad. And not for the reasons he might think. I’m mad at myself. Here I am manufacturing a situation when I got plenty of crap to deal with on my own. He’s right. It was a good time and it’s done. Besides if he so’s dismissive he isn’t the man I thought he was. I like my men a bit needy and appreciative. I scoot to leave and he grabs my arm to stop me.
“You’re real fine Coco, got a good head on your shoulders. Why are you playing these games with me?”
It’s a fair question. I’m not sure what the truth really is. Most of my actions since I heard him play has been impulse. Still I want to have the conversation. Even if nothing comes out of it. Funny how it’s easier to have the conversation with a stranger than someone you know.
“Marcel was the one to tell you? Right? About Xavier?”
“He told me you two been set to get married since the day you were born.”
“You think that’s strange?”
“I think it’s outdated. Don’t hear of that much anymore. Even we Cajun’s expect a dinner and movie first.”
I laugh. Brick is a funny guy.
“My family likes tradition and their circle of friends who feel the same way is very small. It is rare. But if it’s done everyone respects it. If I decide not to and I… well, it would disappoint them, especially my grand-mère and father. They might even cut me off.”
“I doubt that,” he chuckles.
“You don’t know my family. Anyway, Xavier and I aren’t what you think. We’re more like second cousins. We barely can stand each other.”
“So does he want to get married? Is he being forced?”
I can’t look at him when I answer. “No. He wants to get married. Thinks I belong to him. He’s entitled.”
“Entitled?”
“That’s what he thinks.” I glance over to see observe his reaction. Brick is staring at me. His eyes look a little funny. “You been drinking Brick?”
He smiles but doesn’t answer. I smile.
“So now you know. I’m engaged to a boob. End of story.”
“And the wedding? When does it happen?”
“August. I finish school in May. After we get married we’re supposed to move to Baton Rouge. He plans to campaign for next year’s open Senate seat. He’ll be based out of Shreveport.”
“I thought you plan to be a screen writer? Isn’t that what you said? Write movies and plays?”
“I’ve talked to him about New York film school. I might go. Get into theater up there. Or maybe not.”
Brick shakes his head. I don’t want his pity. But I understand it might seem pathetic. It is pathetic. “I got a proposition.”
Brick glances over at me. “Yea?”
“Me and you, I got Spring Break. I spoke to my brother and parents. They think I’m hanging with Georgie. Well, actually I am. But I like the Bone Room. I like you, Brick. Why don’t we have some fun? No strings attached. What do you think?”
Brick leans back against the booth cushion. He stares at me. The man couldn’t possibly want something serious. His player reputation says otherwise. He should leap at my offer. I know he enjoyed the time we spent together so far.
“And what if your man Xavier finds out about our arrangement? What then?”
“He won’t. Trust me. Not unless I want him too.”
Brick laughs. He shakes his head. “Thank you for coming all the way down here to bring my sax to me.”
It sounds like he’s going to decline. Damn it. I quickly speak up and change the subject. “That man upstairs called her Jezebel.”
“That was her name before he gifted her to me. I have to give her, her own name.”
“Ah, so what is it?”
“I’m working on it. It can take a man years.”
I slip my hand over to his thigh. Brick shakes his head no to me. “C’mon Brick. I want to have some fun. Hang out. A week and I’m back to my boring life. What do you think?”
“A week of fun or drama? Because you look like drama to me.”
“You look like a man used to dealing with drama.”
Brick smiles.
“I can help you find a name for Jezebel. What do you say?” I lean over and bring my face close to his. “Not asking for your hand in marriage Brick. Just friendship.”
His gaze lowers to my lips. And soon he comes in for the deal. We kiss. It’s so good. His lips and tongue are perfect the way they move over my mouth. And when the kiss is over, he smiles the kind of smile I saw the night before. Right after we reached our climax for the first time. Every instinct in me says he’s definitely the man I should know, should spend time with. And I’m going with that feeling.
“Still not convinced?” I ask.
He shakes his head no.
“Will you play something for me?” I ask. “Let the music decide?”
“On
ly if you help me,” he says and looks over to the mess in the center of the floor.
“What is it?”
“New barstools I need to put them together.”
“Sure, I can help. I’m good at putting furniture together.” I ease out of the booth and he comes out after me. Before I can approach the mess on the floor his hand touches my ass. I look behind me.
“Afterwards, let me take you out for an early dinner?”
“And desert?”
“I have a gig tonight. Can you hang around?”
“I can. And remember I want a song.”
“I got-chu girl. I got it.”
I laugh and step out of my heels. He and I get to our knees and get to business.
Chapter Six
Dinner was nice. I liked talking to her. I liked listening to her. How she observes people. How she always has a come back for whatever I say. It’s the way we vibe.
I wet my lips. Coco smiles up at me. She crosses her legs and I swear her thighs are my inspiration tonight. The moment the brass touches my lips I release. It’s my creation, so I know how it mixes. The first blow is abrasive. It’s my style. Smoke comes in smooth. And I’ve heard my boy Benson who is a tenor saxophonist come in here and blow warm notes that slowly cool. I’m a musical sponge. I can switch from tenor to alto like the breeze.
I brought her to the roof. The Bone Room is crowded with live entertainment. I’m still angry with Smoke for blocking me with Coco. So, here on the roof we are all alone. And my tenor saxophone is seducing us both under the moon. The song plays through my lungs, my breathing, my being and before I’m done she’s on her feet.
“Yeeeees!” she claps. “More!”
I set the saxophone down. There’s plenty of background music rising up from the ceiling to our feet. I want to touch her again. I’ve wanted to since dinner, and even before. She comes into my arms and I’m holding her and swaying. Coco is grinning. She then rests her face against my chest. The day just flowed that way. I don’t care about her family craziness. I have my own. I don’t care about the fiancé she hates. Why should I? I’m more a man of feeling than principle. And I like feeling her.
