Release Me

by Farrah Rochon

“Of course. The entire club was in an uproar. She’s going to be a big draw for Jonathan.”

  Toby nodded. “He made me guarantee her performances over the next few weeks.”

  “That’s excellent. It’s the best way to establish a following—one that’s outside of the teenage demographic. I think we’ve got a pretty good handle on that age group.”

  “And this church thing is going to tap into another segment of the population.”

  “One we never even contemplated,” Sienna agreed, unable to contain a matching smile.

  “Yeah, I may have to buy Mama a new Sunday hat for coming up with this idea.”

  “You know, it might not be a bad idea if we could get her in on a brainstorming session. I’ll bet if we get your Mom and brothers and maybe even Jonathan together, we can think of a bunch of untapped audiences. We’ve got to think outside the box with this, Toby. We don’t have time to sit around and wait for inspiration to strike.”

  “Good thinking.”

  “Naturally,” Sienna teased. “You’re paying good money for me to come up with these brilliant ideas.”

  “I was thinking about that. Since you’re the one handling Aria’s account, maybe I could fire MDF, Inc. and you can just continue on as a friend.” Toby winked.

  “Not on your life.” Sienna laughed. “C’mon, help me with this wheelbarrow.”

  Carrying the shovel, she led him around the side of the house where she had filled half the bed of her grandmother’s rusty wheelbarrow with a coffee ground and table scrap compost.

  “Since when do you do yard work?” Toby asked. He went around and gripped the handles of the wheelbarrow.

  “Since I got a yard of my own,” Sienna quipped. “Bring it around the front for me. I need to get some fertilizer from the shed.”

  Heading to the back of her property, Sienna went to the small aluminum building she’d purchased at Home Depot to replace the wooden shed that had been blown to pieces by Hurricane Katrina. She retrieved the bag of fertilizer and a trowel from the wall-mounted tool shelf.

  When Sienna returned to the front of the house, she found Toby already scooping the compost mixture and situating it around the edge of the flowerbed.

  “Since when do you do yard work?” she asked.

  “Since five minutes ago,” he answered. He looked around at her composition of shrubs and perennials. “This is really nice, Cee Cee. Granny Elise would be happy with what you’ve done.”

  She let her eyes roam over the landscaping she’d put so much time and energy into making her own. “I think so, too. Granny always wanted a rose garden, but she never got around to it. This is sort of like a tribute. Makes me feel closer to her, you know.”

  Toby nodded and they both stared at each other. Silence stretched between them like a long winding road. Sienna’s level of discomfort grew with each millisecond of excruciating quiet.

  Finally, Toby broke the connection. Rising from where he knelt in the dirt, he dusted his hands off and planted them on his hips. “Sienna, when did this happen?”

  “What?” But she knew what. It was painfully obvious.

  “I never imagined a time in my life when I would feel awkward around you. I’ve been trying to pretend everything is okay, but it’s not.”

  “I know.” She shrugged. “But what can we do about it? Friendships grow apart all the time.”

  “I know that, but us?”

  Another shrug. “I guess if you don’t work at it, even the closest relationships are going to fade. I admit I never thought it could happen to us, either. I was closer to you than I was to my own sisters. But…” Sienna added water to the soil. She mixed in a handful of fertilizer and tamped it down around the base of the flowers.

  “At least you’re home,” she said after several somber moments. And for the first time since his return, Sienna made certain the depth of her feelings were evident in her eyes, if only he was willing to see them.

  “I’ve missed you, Toby,” she said, nearly aching with the breadth of emotions rioting through her. Would he finally understand just what it is she felt for him?

  “I missed you, too,” Toby answered. “I haven’t had anyone to give me a hard time for no reason at all. You’re the only friend who can do that.” His playful punch on the arm was like a fist to the gut.

  Sienna pasted on a smile. It took effort to keep her disappointment hidden. “That’s my specialty, right?”

  “Maybe we can work on being the friends we used to be, huh?”

  “I’d love that more than anything,” Sienna answered.

  At least she knew she could lie with a straight face.

  ***

  Sienna jumped as her cellular phone rang. Waving at Candi as the assistant drove out of MDF’s employee parking garage, Sienna pulled the phone out of her purse and checked the tiny screen. It was a number she didn’t recognize.

  “This is Sienna,” she answered.

  “Hey, I’m glad I caught you.”

  “Toby? Where are you calling from?”

  “Jonathan’s club. Look, can you stop at Mama’s tonight? I’ve been making some phone calls and scored two more spots for Aria for this week. I’ve got a couple of ideas that I want to run by you before I send anything out to the radio stations.”

  “Can’t we handle this over the phone? I’m supposed to have dinner with Ivana in an hour.”

  “You’re the one who suggested just this morning that we brainstorm outside of the office. Bring your sister over, too. Mama won’t mind. She’s making dinner for Jonathan. You know how Mama is when it comes to food. There’ll be enough to feed the entire neighborhood.”

  She certainly could use some of Margo Holmes’s cooking. It would be a hundred times better than anything she ordered in a restaurant. And it was free.

  “Okay, I’ll be there. But I’m warning you, Toby, I don’t want you pushing Jonathan and I together as soon as I get to the house, alright?”

  “Maybe you should take your own advice.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Sienna asked.

  “Nothing,” Toby answered.

  She knew she had not imagined the sharpness in his voice, but decided not to inquire further. “Is seven-thirty okay? I need to drop by Ivana’s and pick her up.”

  “Cool. See you in a little while.”

  Sienna finally made it to her car. Locking her purse in the trunk—sans the cellular phone she kept in her hand—she got in and took off for Ivana’s, hoping her sister still remembered their dinner date. It was a crapshoot where Ivana was concerned. Her older sister had no problem blowing her off if there was some worthy cause that needed her help.

  Sienna didn’t mind. It was what made Ivana special. Her sister would give her last dime, the food from her mouth, and the clothes on her back—all at the same time—if it meant someone less fortunate would not have to suffer. That’s why Sienna took it personally when people called her sister a witchdoctor or a wacko, or any of the other horrible names that were used to describe Ivana. Some even by their own mother.

  Sienna’s hands tightened involuntarily on the steering wheel.

  She pulled up to the shotgun house in the Treme neighborhood that Ivana shared with her best friend from college, Lelo, who was out front watering one of the huge ferns on the porch.

  “Hey, girl,” Lelo called.

  “Hi there. Is my sister home, or did she ditch me?” Sienna answered, making her way up the concrete walkway.

  “She’s here,” Lelo said. “So, how is the job, Miss Big Time Marketing Executive?”

  “It’s pretty good. I was just given my very own account.”

  “Congratulations, sweetie,” Lelo said, sitting the plastic watering can on the porch ledge and enveloping Sienna in a hug. “You’re going to own that company sooner than you know.”

  “I like the way you think.” Sienna laughed.

  “You made it,” Ivana called from inside the house. Even with the meshed screened door partially obscuring
her view, Sienna could still make out the wild colors her sister wore. Ivana had her own style, and she was not ashamed to show it no matter what others thought about her.

  “Give me a minute,” Ivana said. “I need to get something from my room.”

  Sienna opened the screened door and entered the house. The strong scent of patchouli smacked her in the face. Ivana and Lelo were best friends, but their individual tastes clashed unmercifully, creating a house with some of the most mismatched décor Sienna had ever seen.

  Ivana’s penchant for bold colors and patterns rioted against Lelo’s frilly lace and soft pastels. At first sight, it was hard for the brain to comprehend just what was so off about it. If she stayed for very long, she developed a headache.

  Sienna walked to the back of the house toward Ivana’s room. She found her sister at the mirror, looping a strand of faux pearls over her head. She wore her gorgeous mass of hair in its natural and most beautiful state tonight, free flowing over her shoulders and down her back. They both had a tall, slim build, but Sienna had always envied her sister’s elegance. While she’d always considered herself tall and lanky, Ivana was willowy and graceful.

  “You look awesome,” Sienna told her. “Although, it’s a bit much for a drive-thru window.” She laughed when Ivana’s middle finger shot up, flipping her off. “I can’t believe you did that.”

  “That’s what you get for thinking of taking me to a drive-thru for dinner,” Ivana answered.

  “Doesn’t matter. There’s been a change of plans.” Sienna walked over to the bed and fell face down into the soft, well-worn comforter. She kicked one shoe off and left the other dangling from her big toe. She turned her head to Ivana. “We’ve been invited to dinner at Margo Holmes’s house.”

  “Really?” Ivana gave her a raised eyebrow stare through the mirror. “What did little Jasmine do, lose a tooth?”

  Sienna grinned. “No. It’s a long story, but to give you the short version, I’m heading an account for this singer Toby discovered. There are some things we need to go over that couldn’t wait until Monday.”

  “You’re dumping me on our traditional dinner night for business?”

  “Call it payback for all the times you’ve bailed on me.”

  Ivana nodded. “I deserve it. And if your payback involves Margo’s cooking, you can pay me back any time.”

  Sienna picked up the catalog she’d spotted on the nightstand. Thumbing through the pages and grimacing at the clothing that was too outdated for a woman Ivana’s age, she asked, “What’s happening with that house in the Quarter you’re trying to save?”

  “Don’t ask.”

  “What happened?” Sienna tossed the catalog back on the nightstand. “The last time I talked to you, you said the contractor was ready to give in.”

  “The contractor was at his breaking point, but the new owner will not be so easy to manipulate.”

  “You met him?”

  “Unfortunately.”

  “Just keep at it,” Sienna encouraged. “I have total faith in the tenacity of Ivana “The Pit bull” Culpepper.”

  Ivana laughed. “I don’t think I’ve earned the nickname “Pit bull” yet.”

  “Oh, yeah? I’ll bet that contractor would beg to differ.”

  Ivana smiled at her through the mirror. She picked up an old-fashioned perfume diffuser and misted herself.

  “I’m ready,” Ivana announced. She turned, and sashayed back and forth, her long turquoise skirt bellowing, while the oversized sleeves of her gauzy white blouse mimicked a downed fighter signaling surrender.

  Sienna speared her with a curious glance. “Are you trying to land a man?”

  Ivana’s hazel-colored eyes shot daggers. “Shut up.”

  Sienna burst out laughing. “Come on. One of Toby’s college friends is in town. Hopefully, Margo made some gumbo to welcome him to the city.”

  “If only we could be so lucky.”

  ***

  Ivana groaned as the hem of her skirt caught in the car door. That’s why she didn’t own a car; they clashed with her usual attire. She’d ruined many a skirt by getting it caught in a car door. She’d even lost one that way. That had been embarrassing.

  The rich aroma of home cooking filtered out of Margo Holmes’s open kitchen window, greeting them in the front yard.

  “Girl, come on,” Sienna said. “I smell jambalaya.”

  Ivana followed her along the graveled walkway toward the back door, but even the delicious smelling food was not enough enticement to put an extra pep in her step. She loved the Holmeses as if they were her own family, but just like her own family, they thought she was weird. Of course, Margo had never said anything to her face, but Ivana knew better than to think she didn’t get whispered about when she left a room.

  She was the fruitcake. Sylvia Culpepper’s lost cause.

  If it were not for Sienna and her unwavering support, Ivana would have probably cut off all ties to her family long ago. They just didn’t understand her. Nobody understood her, except for her sisters in the struggle to save New Orleans’ misguided souls.

  She was a Voodoo priestess, and proud of it. She fought for what she believed in, and did everything within her power to preserve the increasingly dissipating history of the real Voodoo of this city.

  But it still hurt when people misjudged her.

  Ivana followed Sienna through the screened door and pass the dozens of plants overtaking the back porch. A beautiful sign with Margo’s Jungle hand-carved into the wood hung over the door that led to the kitchen.

  “Come on in.” She heard Margo say from within the house. Closing the door behind her, Ivana took a deep breath and put on her confident, talk-about-me-all-you-want-I’m-still-my-own-woman face. As much as their cautious looks and whispered comments hurt, she refused to hide her true self.

  “Ivana, honey. It’s been so long since I’ve seen you.” Margo was alone in the kitchen, but male voices could be heard coming from one of the front rooms of the house. “You look wonderful. I love that color on you,” Margo said, holding out Ivana’s long skirt.

  “Thank you,” Ivana said, bending down to give the extremely petite woman a hug. “It’s great to see you. Thanks for inviting us.”

  “You know my kitchen is always opened,” Margo said with a nonchalant wave. “The two of you arrived just in time. Tobias and Jonathan have been waiting in the living room like a couple of starving dogs. If you all could help me bring this to the dining table,” She handed a bowl of steaming, aromatic jambalaya to Sienna and gestured with her head for Ivana to grab the large bowl of green salad. “We can start dinner.”

  The dining table was set with mismatched plates, silverware and plastic go-cups like the ones thrown from the parade floats at Mardi Gras.

  “I apologize for the place settings. Jasmine was here with Alex earlier and she begged to set the table. And you know I was not letting that little girl touch my good dishes.”

  “At least she wants to helps,” Sienna said.

  “Help, my foot. Miss Thang had the nerve to demand five dollars after she was done.”

  Ivana laughed, but inside, she could not control the small prick of pain that pierced her chest at the thought of Margo’s beautiful granddaughter. She longed for a child of her own.

  “Tobias? Jonathan?” Margo called from the door of the dining room. “Dinner is ready.” She came back to the table. “Take a seat, girls. They should be out in just a minute.”

  Before Ivana had a chance to sit, Toby Holmes came through the door that led to the living room.

  “Hey there, Mrs. Trump,” Toby said, greeting her as he had since Donald Trump had married his ex-wife, Ivana.

  She had forgotten how tall he was. Ivana told him so as they embraced. “Somebody should have told you to stop growing, Toby.”

  “I’m the same size I was the last time you saw me.”

  “I don’t think so. Any man who dwarfs me is too tall for his own good.”

  “Where’s
Jonathan?” Margo asked.

  “Washing up. He should be out in a minute.”

  “What about Aria?” Sienna asked from the seat she’d taken at the table. Ivana rounded the table and sat beside her.

  “Aria’s not coming, is she, Mama?” Toby sent raised eyebrows Margo’s way, who shrugged and said, “Not if you didn’t invite her.”

  “I didn’t think Aria needed to be here for this discussion. She’s still trying to recover from her performance at The Hard Court.”

  “But she did so well,” Sienna said. “I couldn’t tell she was nervous.”

  “She gets like that sometimes, but once she’s on stage, she’s good to go.”

  “She was definitely impressive,” Sienna admitted.

  “How did the club turn out? Did Indina do a good job,” Margo asked.

  “It’s first class all the way. But that’s to be expected with Jonathan. He never does anything half-ass. Sorry, Mama,” Toby said.

  Ivana smiled at Toby’s apology. The Holmes boys did not use questionable language in front of their mother. It was refreshing to see that type of respect still in place.

  Toby shook his head. “After last night’s success, I don’t know how I’m going to handle that boy. His head is big enough as it is.”

  Ivana discreetly rubbed the side of her own head. It was still throbbing as a result of the confrontation from a few days ago with a bigheaded attorney who was destroying one of the first homes that was ever used as a haven for the city’s sick.

  She needed to devise another tactic. She’d beaten the contractor nearly to his breaking point. He’d been ready to crack; she knew it. But Ivana’s instincts told her the building’s new lessee would not be as easy to intimidate.

  Her blood boiled just at the thought of his superciliousness.

  She dropped her napkin on the floor and blamed him for that too. Her nerves had been on edge ever since she’d left his office. Ivana bent to retrieve the napkin, silently cursing her new foe.

  Arrogant, overconfident…

  “Here he comes,” she heard Toby say, “Ivana, I want you to meet my buddy and teammate from St. John’s—