The House on Prytania (Royal Street #2)(10)
Author: Karen White

 

As usual, my historic-house-loving self noticed the architectural elements first. An original dark wood-planked ceiling covered a large single room containing booths along the sides with small tables placed in the middle. A full bar dominated one end of the room. Out of habit, I diverted my attention away from the glass bottles lined up on the shelves, focusing instead on the diners.

 

I spotted Sam immediately, sitting in a booth next to the window. Her head was bent toward her phone, so she didn’t see me, giving me the chance to take in her coordinated jacket-and-sweater outfit, her smooth dark hair falling in gentle waves around her face. She looked like she’d just stepped out of a J.Crew catalog. Self-consciously, I looked down at my worn jeans and the oversized, holey sweater that I’d had since high school. I stopped a server walking past me. “Excuse me—where’s the ladies’ room?”

 

Checking quickly to make sure that Sam hadn’t spotted me yet, I ducked into the bathroom and headed straight for the mirror. I pulled out the tube of lipstick Jolene had given me, a muted pink with “blue tones,” which, according to Jolene, flattered my coloring. She kept threatening to bring me home with her on her next trip to Mississippi so her aunt Janie could do my colors. I had no idea what that meant, but I wondered if it would hurt.

 

After carefully applying the lipstick just like Jolene had shown me, and then using a square of paper towel to blot my lips, I could only hope that I didn’t resemble a circus clown. I stepped back from the mirror, reluctantly appreciating what Jolene had done to my hair. And the pearls. Although I couldn’t help comparing the pearls with my outfit to the floral basket on my bike. Whatever. With a deep breath, I pulled my shoulders back and faked confidence as I strode to Sam’s table.

 

Sam smiled warmly as I slid across from her in the booth. “Hi, Nola. It’s so good to see you.” She shifted her gaze briefly and gave a nod to someone out of my line of vision. Before I could say anything, a server placed a steaming-hot cup of coffee in front of me. “I’ve heard that it’s best to keep you caffeinated.”

 

I laughed, immediately put at ease. “I drank an entire travel mug full of coffee on my way here, and I was just now feeling the need for another infusion.”

 

Holding up her own cup of coffee, she said, “This is my third and I’m definitely not done yet.” As she sipped from her cup, I noticed her unpolished and seriously gnawed fingernails. It was somehow reassuring to know that she wasn’t perfect.

 

Sam handed a menu to me. “Are you hungry? I’m afraid that there’s not a lot of healthy options. . . .”

 

“Good,” I said, my stomach grumbling as I watched a plate full of something yummy being carried past us, the trailing scent of bacon and melted butter making my mouth water. I looked down at my menu. “What do you recommend?”

 

She grinned. “How hungry are you?”

 

“Very.”

 

“Great, then. You like corn bread waffles, pulled pork, chimichurri sauce, and pickled peppers?”

 

I nodded enthusiastically. “You had me at ‘corn bread.’ ”

 

“I’ve got you covered.” Sam signaled for the server and placed an order for Waffle Cochon and a Creole Slammer. “Those are my two favorite things on the menu, so we can split and share—that’s what Beau and I usually do. I hope you don’t mind me ordering for you, but everything’s good and I know you don’t have a lot of time, and I really wanted to talk with you about something important.”

 

“No worries.” I took a sip of coffee, hoping it would reach my brain before I needed to answer any questions about Beau.

 

“It’s about Adele.”

 

“Adele?”

 

“Yes. Beau’s mother?”

 

“I know who she is,” I said. “I’m just . . . surprised. I don’t know a lot about her, except that she’s presumed dead.”

 

Sam cleared her throat. “Yeah, well. That’s the thing.” Sam put down her cup and focused her gaze on it as if searching for words among the coffee grounds. “I think Beau talks to her.” She paused, waiting for me to bolt. When I didn’t, she said, “Every night. At least, every night when he stays over at my apartment, which is a lot. I have an antique phone—you know, one of those old wooden box phones with the crank and handheld earpiece? My great-aunt left it to me, and I kept it because at the time I thought it was pretty cool. It’s not even plugged into anything—just a few nails to hook it onto the wall.”

 

Sam stopped talking to allow our server to refill our cups. Once he was out of earshot, she said, “But it rings. Never when I’m there alone, but every night when he’s there. We’ll be in bed asleep and it rings. The first time it happened I got up, but Beau told me to go back to sleep, that it was just an odd malfunction, and we let it ring a few more times until it stopped. But then . . .”

 

I raised my eyebrows and didn’t say anything, to show that she still had my full attention. Or at least most of it, because part of my mind was squirming at the thought of the two of them in bed together.

 

Sam continued. “I’m assuming that since you were with Beau when he cleared the spirits from your house, you’re aware that he has . . . abilities that he’s still reluctant to explore. Working with you was sort of a turning point for him, but he’s not there yet. We’re still doing the debunking-psychics podcast—which is still valid, I think—but I feel he’s also more open to exploring legitimate ways to help trapped spirits move on.”

 

“He admitted that to you?”

 

“Not in so many words. But you know how when you’re in an intimate relationship with someone you can understand things about them without them saying them?”

 

I nodded, even though I had no clue what she meant. My mind was too busy trying to dart around the word “intimate” in relation to her and Beau to try to figure it out.

 

“Anyway, the next time the phone rang, I pretended to be in a deep sleep when he got out of bed to answer it. It hangs on the wall outside the bedroom, and even though he closed the door, I could hear him through the cheap particleboard walls. I’m sure you know all about the shoddy construction found in modern buildings.” We rolled our eyes together, and I felt as if we had just bonded.

 

The server came with our food, and as much as I was dying to hear the rest of Sam’s story, I had to interrupt her long enough to divide each plate of food in perfect halves using the ruler Melanie had engraved with my name and given me. I was unsure if the look on Sam’s face was one of surprise or appreciation, but I was too hungry to care.