IT’S BEEN SO LONG
Katie felt Luc’s presence behind her; like a sixth sense, her body registered his closeness. She wished to high heaven that would stop. It was unnerving. Maybe it was only their shared love of the forties time frame that bound them together. After this week, she’d leave that in her past too. And if that didn’t work, she’d trample his fedora under her stiletto. This time she’d give the photographer her full name, spelling included.
The hanging moss draped from the eerie, life-filled oaks that might have told stories for centuries. She slowed down, savoring her walk past the galleries with their porch swings behind wrought iron gates, breathing deeply the moist air with its intoxicating scent of magnolias. Each step reminded her what made the city of New Orleans greener, richer, and deeper than any destination she’d hope to travel to. The energy of the place filled her with warmth and soothing memories of good food, laughter around the table, and—love. She felt enveloped by the atmosphere and the emotion of being wrapped up in someone’s arms.
“It’s like the city has a pulse, isn’t it?” Luc asked, as if reading her mind.
“A steady one,” she agreed.
“With the occasional palpitation.” He swept his gaze to the ground and back to her. “Katie—”
“You know what I love about my job. What do you love about hawking vitamins?”
He cocked a brow. “That’s what you think I do?” He strode in front of her. She quickened her step and followed.
“Vitamins, herbs, green algae drinks that no human with taste buds can swallow, homemade soups that taste like someone softened the cat food with vegetable broth. Oh, and baked goods minus the gluten and any sense of moisture. Do I have everything now?”
He looked behind him. “I see the real Katie has returned. Obviously, overcoming the St. Charles’ streetcar caused a spark. My soup is good. Have you ever tried it?” He pointed to a fountain filled with green water as they passed a house. “It may look like that, but it tastes fantastic.”
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 Luc 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.”
“Crawfish boils aren’t for a few, Katie Marie, they’re for everyone within radius—and Rusty’s everybody’s friend. Food brings people together, or did you forget that out west? You’re not eating your meals alone, are you? It’s bad for the digestive system. It’s bad enough Eileen is making you eat that watered-down food. You girls are too skinny.”
“Eileen cooks good, Mam.”
“Oh, Eileen. That girl doesn’t cook. Is there even butter in your refrigerator?”
“I don’t know.”
“These mudbugs were fresh caught in the Gulf last night. You should have seen them squirm when we poured them out. Some of them look like the grandaddies of crawdads, so big it makes my mouth water just looking at them.”
As if Mam would serve anything less. They may have been poor, but one would never have known it by the blessings on their table. Mam could buy any household staple with little more than a dollar and some skilled negotiating.
“Mam, what was that all about with Luc? You always loved him, I thought. I felt like a failure when he didn’t marry me, like I’d let you down.”
“Oh, I never expected him to marry you, Katie. Luc DeForges is about Luc DeForges. I never understood what you saw in him. There was a day when he wore that hat and could have been a homeless guy on Rampart. I told you a long time ago, there’s men who are charming and then there’s men you marry. Luc ain’t the marrying kind, and I do think I told you that a long time ago too. You didn’t want to hear it.”
“No,” Katie said in agreement.
“So tell me about this Dexter character. I nearly got on a plane to come meet him. Imagine my shock when you said you were coming home. With Luc,” Mam added, as though she’d swallowed something bitter.
“It seems Luc is quickly running out of friends in my life.”
“As well he should. So before you tell me about Dexter, I should tell you that Luc’s little brother Ryan is marrying a lovely girl. It’s been all the news, this wedding. I do wish I had been invited. The good Lord knows I’ve sold her daddy enough shrimp—well, her daddy’s people.” Mam laughed. “Imagine the invitation addressed to the lady who sells the freshest shrimp at the farmers market. Wouldn’t that be a hoot?”
Mam opened the front door and gestured for Katie to enter.
“I see you painted another room salmon.”
“And why wouldn’t I? It’s the color of freshly boiled shrimp, and fresh shrimping pays the mortgage. Well, your Paddy took care of that, I suppose. Shrimp pays the taxes and the insurance, that’s more accurate.”
“It’s like living in the gut of a fish!” Katie complained. She looked around. Mam’s new house defied her expectations. An Italianate Victorian, it had been split into two townhomes. On the outside the building fit perfectly into the large mansions that surrounded it; on the inside, however, it was comfortable and warm—except for the orangish-pink living room. “Couldn’t you just do an accent wall, like they do on HGTV?”
“You move to California and suddenly you’re an expert on decorating?”
“Well, not an expert, but—”
“Katie, don’t be so negative. It’s a color of life. The good life down here in N’awlins. I see no reason to ever leave, and I see no reason to ever leave a living room beige. Besides, it warded off Katrina. I think it’s a lucky color.”
Katie knew better than to argue with that. Like most N’awliners, Mam’s faith was mixed with a large portion of superstition.
“The house is beautiful. I shouldn’t have been so negative. Look at your lantern over the stairs. It’s just like being in an outdoor courtyard.”
“No, come see. I have a real courtyard!” Mam led her through the living room to an oversized beveled-glass door that led to the back gallery.
Stepping outside into the heat, Katie heard the roar of the propane torch under the boiling pot. She ran down the steps and sniffed deeply the spices added to the water to make a boil complete.
“This must be Katie Marie.” Rusty Slater stood over two giant ice chests, filled to capacity with cleaned crawdads.
Katie felt a rush of emotion—first, that Rusty looked nothing like her father and second, that she’d forever associate him with one of her favorite things in life: a crawfish boil. Rusty was much younger than her father, even now, nearly ten years after Paddy’s death. Mam had married her own age this time.
Rusty was a stocky, rugged-looking man with a mustache and clean-shaven head. He had a barrel chest and beefy arms, and as she reached to shake his hand, he pulled her into a bear hug.
“There’s no excuse for my not seeing you before today,” he said. He stepped backward. “You’re as pretty as your mam. See them crawdads? Buddy of mine pulled them out himself last night. These are as fresh as you can get unless you live in Arabi and pull them out while the pot is berlin.”
“I can’t wait!”
“Your mother tells me you got a beau out there in California. How come he didn’t come with you? You explained to him what family means?”
“He’ll come before the wedding. He wants to meet everyone.”
“What’s he like to do for fun? Dexter, right? He fish? Play pool? Ping-Pong?”
“He has a Segway. He plays Segway polo with some of his friends and co-workers on Saturdays.”
“He has a what, now?” Rusty cupped his ear.
“A Segway. It’s a motorized mobility device. You stand up and lean into it with your hips to steer it.”
“It’s a what, now?”
“It’s like a scooter that you stand up on.”
Rusty nodded. “All right then. To each his own, I always say. Scooter polo.”
“Segway polo.”
“That right, now.”
“Come on now, Katie,” Mam called. “I want to show you the rest of the house.”
Katie followed her mam reluctantly. So much change to take in, and she hated change. Maybe that’s why she hadn’t been home. Everything was different now.