The House on Prytania (Royal Street #2)(40)
Author: Karen White

 

“Kids!” Melanie said. “You’re supposed to be on your best behavior. Don’t make me start singing.”

 

That was enough to make the twins sit back in their seats and not make a sound.

 

Jack slid next to Sarah in the back, but when I made to get in on the other side of her, Melanie raced around the car to take hold of my elbow. “Why don’t you ride with Cooper since we’re all going to the same place? You can go with him to pick up his rental car and do some catching up.”

 

I looked at my dad for help, expecting him to do the thing where he’d form a V with his index and middle fingers, point at his eyes, and then redirect them to point at Cooper to make it clear that he was watching. He’d actually done that once when I’d gone on a date with Cooper a million years ago in Charleston. But he didn’t do it now. Either he had switched his focus to his younger daughter or he believed I’d be safe with Cooper.

 

“I mean, I’d love the company if you don’t mind,” Cooper said.

 

Feeling everyone’s expectant eyes on me, I agreed. I closed the side door, then waited for Melanie to climb into the front seat. Leaning in through Jolene’s open window, I said, “Buckle up and hang on tight. Saying a few Hail Marys might help, too.”

 

“But we’re not Catholic,” Sarah pointed out.

 

“Doesn’t matter. I think Bubba might be.”

 

With an admonishing look, Jolene rolled up her window, and I stepped back to watch them take off with a rumble of the giant engine.

 

Cooper and I talked of mundane things as he went through the process of picking up his rental, a normal-sized sedan that didn’t necessitate my stepping up to get inside (like Beau’s truck), didn’t have seats and windows that were manual, and didn’t have a cassette player. It was also much smaller than Bubba, with bucket seats that were close enough together that I could easily reach over and touch Cooper. I’d accidentally brushed his arm as I was placing his backpack in the trunk, and the familiar zing—now whittled down to more of a buzz—was still there. He’d glanced at me, making me wonder if he’d felt it, too. While my brain and heart busied themselves with a game of tug-of-war, I pressed myself against my door to make sure there would be no more touching, accidental or otherwise.

 

“Melanie was telling me about a new project you’re going to be working on—a shotgun house, I think? I’d love to take a look, if that’s okay. I don’t think anyone who grows up in an old house in Charleston is comfortable living in anything else—at least for long. Not that I have any dreams of doing any renovations. But if the timeline works out, and I love the house and the location, I could always rent somewhere until it’s ready. I think I’d like to live in a house where you had a hand in the renovations.”

 

When I didn’t respond, he said, “I mean, if you’re okay with showing a work in progress.”

 

“I’d be happy to show it to you. It’s just that there are a couple of things you need to be aware of.”

 

“Yeah?” He turned to me with the gray eyes that I remembered, the same ones that would light up when I said something funny or when I just walked into the room. For a long time I had avoided going out with guys with gray eyes just because of Cooper’s.

 

“Well, for one, it’s not a done deal yet. Beau Ryan, Jolene’s boss and my contractor, and his grandmother are getting into the business of buying old houses with a history, rehabbing them, then selling them. This would be their first project.”

 

Cooper nodded. “And old houses with a history would mean . . .”

 

“Murder. That’s usually one of the reasons why nice houses in good neighborhoods aren’t selling.”

 

“I see. I don’t think that would bother me—as long as there aren’t any visible reminders, of course. Like bloodstained carpet.”

 

“Seriously? Like I would try to sell a house with bloodstained carpets?”

 

He laughed. “No. Just thought I’d check in case you’re not the same Nola I remember.”

 

My own smile faltered, and I looked down at my hands. “I’m definitely not the same Nola you remember. A lot can happen in the span of a decade, you know?”

 

I felt him turn his head toward me, but I didn’t look up. “Yeah, I know. Alston’s kept me informed. I wanted to come back home, see if there was anything I could do, but Alston said your parents were handling it and she wasn’t sure I’d be a welcome face. But I’m glad you’re well.” He was silent for a moment, and just when I’d started to relax, he spoke again. “You look beautiful, by the way.”

 

“Thank you,” I said. “It’s because of Jolene. She’s next-level when it comes to what to wear to pick up family at the airport. Or to go running in the park, for that matter.”

 

The side of his face creased in another smile as he kept his focus on the road ahead. “No. It’s more than that. You have a sense of . . . maturity about you. You always did, but now it’s like you’re a little more comfortable in your own skin. Like you shed your old skin and have found the new one a lot more to your liking.”

 

“Great. So you think I’m an old snake. I’ll have to remember that the next time someone asks me what’s the nicest thing someone has ever said to me.”

 

Cooper laughed and I joined him, happy to have rediscovered our old footing. “Well, glad we got that out of the way,” he said, still smiling. “So, what’s the other thing? You said there were a couple of things I needed to be aware of.”

 

Knowing I could be honest with him, I said, “How do you feel about ghosts?”

 

“Well,” he said, drawing out the word. “Knowing Melanie and having seen firsthand what she does, I have an enlightened perspective, I think. I grew up in an old house with lots of creaks and groans and cold spots. I never completely believed my mom when she brushed it all off by claiming that all old houses had leaks and drafts and old floor joists, but it helped Alston and me sleep at night. In other words, they don’t bother me, so I don’t bother them.”

 

“I used to say the same thing.”

 

He turned to look at me, his eyebrow raised.

 

“My cottage—the one I bought and am in the process of renovating—has a few ‘memories,’ as Jolene likes to call them. There were two, but Beau and I sent them on their way. But now one of them seems to be back, and there’s also a new one now. A not-very-nice one who is difficult to ignore.”

 

“Well, it’s a good thing Melanie’s here, right?”