The House on Prytania (Royal Street #2)(107)
Author: Karen White

 

“What about the real Sunny, Felicity Hebert? Mimi was so frantic about you and your injuries when we spoke, I didn’t want to add to her stress. And when I called Christopher, all he knew was that Felicity and Mimi had spoken in person, but he doesn’t know what they discussed.”

 

Beau nodded. “And all Mimi would tell me is that Felicity—as she still wants to be called—has gone back to New York and Michael went with her. She says she needs time to think, and I’m guessing that Michael does, too. Mimi also said that the authorities are now looking for Michael’s parents, to find out what part they played in the abduction, and if they can corroborate Robert Sabatier’s story about his wife’s innocence.”

 

I thought about Angelina and her kind smile, finding it very difficult to believe she had anything to do with any of it. “Angelina would have questioned the reappearance of her dead niece, right?”

 

Beau shrugged. “Robert said that Michael’s parents had adopted a child right after their daughter’s death, and Angelina found that acceptable. Or didn’t ask too many questions because she was desperate to believe that she was being given two children that she sorely wanted.”

 

“It’s a sad story all around,” I said. “Everyone loses something. And all because of one evil man. He’s gone for good, right? It’s a lot brighter here, and I no longer have PTSD when I go into the upstairs closet, but I wanted to check with you to be sure.”

 

“He’s gone. Promise. And hopefully my grandfather and mom, too. I’m not sure how all this works, but I still feel her presence.”

 

I gently touched his arm. “That might not be a psychic thing. I feel my mom from time to time, too. Like when I’m stressed or need to make a big decision. I think it might be more of a mom thing than anything else.”

 

A timer chimed inside. “First batch of cookies in the new oven! I’ll let you take these home with you, Beau,” Jolene said.

 

“Wait—what?”

 

“Don’t get your panties in a twist, Nola. I’ve got enough dough here to make two more batches, and Beau’s been through a lot.”

 

“I was there, too, you know,” I called back, but she had already ducked back inside, leaving Beau and me alone on the porch.

 

I moved to sit in the other rocking chair. “How are you really? Mimi’s been keeping me updated, but I didn’t want to bother you by texting. I did stop by the hospital, but Sam was there and I didn’t want to intrude.”

 

“I know. Mimi told me.” He rocked back and forth. “My mom was there, too. I guess she wanted to make sure that I was okay.”

 

“Did you thank her? For saving your life.”

 

“Yeah. I told her she could go now. I told her that I forgave her.” He gripped each arm of the rocker. “But I’m still angry.”

 

“You were a little kid,” I said. “It makes sense that you felt abandoned—and that it followed you into adulthood. Just remember—you weren’t abandoned on purpose. It’s just what happened as a result of a terrible catastrophe. Maybe that’s what she meant by choosing what to fight for. You can hang on to something that happened in your past that you had no control over, or you can look forward to something new that will move you forward.”

 

“Hmm,” he said. “Easier for some people than others, I guess.”

 

Before I could drill him on what he meant, he touched the scar on his head. “I need to properly thank Cooper for what he did. I thought about treating everyone to a nice dinner at Commander’s. No expense spared. You can wear your new phone pouch if you really want to be fancy.”

 

“Sounds like a plan.”

 

He studied me closely, his eyes suddenly serious. “Nola?” He’d lowered his voice, and my blood may have run a bit faster.

 

“Yeah?”

 

“There are two things I need to tell you.”

 

“Just two? I’m sure you have at least five just from my last driving lesson.”

 

He grinned, pinching something in my gut like an arrow hitting its mark.

 

“The first is, thank you. Cooper couldn’t have done what he did if you hadn’t already done what you did. I owe you my life. I’m actually glad you didn’t listen to me when I told you to leave.”

 

I held up my phone. “Can I record you saying that so I have evidence?”

 

“Funny, but no.”

 

“What’s the second thing?”

 

He leaned toward me, reaching out his hand. I leaned toward him, too, aware of his broken ribs. “Nola?” he said, our faces only inches apart.

 

“Hmm?” My eyes were already half closed.

 

“You have a lot of blue-green paint chips stuck in your hair.”

 

The air leaked out of my lungs in disappointment as I sat back in my chair. “Thanks. I’ll wash it later.”

 

He smiled, then leaned heavily on his arms as he pulled himself up to stand. “Good seeing you. I was thinking about calling Cooper to finally go look at the shotgun on Esplanade. I’ll let you know when.”

 

“Thanks,” I said. “Just let me know.”

 

Right on cue, Jolene came out with a covered plate of fresh-baked cookies. “Don’t forget these! Just what the doctor ordered for a fast recovery.”

 

Beau laughed, then said good-bye before heading back to his truck. Jolene watched his slow progress, waiting to speak until he’d closed his door.

 

“That boy is fine,” she said, drawing out the last word into three syllables.

 

“Don’t you have another batch of cookies to make?”

 

She was laughing as she shut the door behind her.

 

Long after the sound of Beau’s truck had disappeared, I continued to sit on the porch, watching the cool November breeze tease the branches of the potted trees across the street, the strings of turkey lights and orange streamers shimmying in a dance choreographed by the wind.

 

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath of contentment until the sound of slow footsteps on the sidewalk forced them open. A woman with long dark hair streaked with gray stood looking up at me. Leathery skin sagged from her cheeks and jaw, and from beneath a forehead scored with heavy lines she stared out at me with clear, deep-set dark eyes. She wore an interesting mix of gauze skirts and strands of beads and large gold hoop earrings. I stared back as I tried to recall where I’d seen her before. Judging by her outfit, she could be one of my neighbors in the Marigny, well-known for its culturally eclectic residents. I’d probably stood behind her in line at Who Dat Coffee Cafe on my daily coffee run at some point.