The House on Prytania (Royal Street #2)(51)
Author: Karen White

 

Sarah had reached the dining room when she stopped suddenly, letting out a shattering scream. I pulled out my phone to dial 9-1-1 while Jolene quickly flipped on the lights.

 

I started laughing. The disembodied Barbie doll head, dressed in all her Mardi Gras finery, sat in the middle of the table like some barbaric sacrifice, but with perfect makeup.

 

“What is that?” Sarah demanded, slowly approaching the table.

 

“It’s just a Barbie head,” Jolene said. “For two smart women with an excellent education, I must say that there was an important part left out of your schooling.”

 

“I think it’s the surprise element,” I explained. “Maybe next time you should give a warning.”

 

“If there is a next time,” Jolene said, sounding as if she’d just been accused of wearing white before Easter or after Labor Day.

 

Sarah rushed to the bathroom to open the door and was completely bowled over by the gray and white fur ball that was Mardi. She lay on the floor where he’d knocked her, and she giggled as he left doggie kisses all over her face, head, and neck. I picked him up to give her a chance to breathe, but she immediately stood and asked me to hand him to her. She cradled him in her arms so that all four of his paws were in the air, just like she’d once held General Lee, and I watched as he rested his head against her shoulder while casually licking the underside of her chin.

 

“I think he likes you,” I said.

 

“Good. Because I like him, too.” She placed a kiss on his nose, and I thought that Mardi might swoon with pleasure. She caught sight of the princess phone on the desk. “What’s that?”

 

“You’re kidding, right? I know you’ve never used one, but surely you’ve seen one.”

 

She thought for a moment before nodding. “Actually, I think I have. My grade went on a field trip to DC and visited the Smithsonian’s National Museum of American History, and they had some. Right next to the typewriters.”

 

Despite being only twenty-six years old, I suddenly felt very, very old.

 

“Does it work?”

 

Before I could stop her, she picked up the receiver and held it to her ear. “Hello?”

 

I watched her face go from mild amusement to curiosity, and then to something that looked a lot like fright. She pulled the receiver away from her ear, and I grabbed it before slamming it down on the base.

 

She stared at it a long time before raising her eyes to meet mine. “I’m pretty sure that was her—the woman in the water. I couldn’t understand what she was saying.” Sarah shuddered and took a step backward.

 

I quickly picked up the phone and shoved it into one of the bottom drawers of the desk before slamming it shut. “We’ll leave it in here and we can just forget about it. Why don’t we get ready for bed?”

 

She stared dubiously at the drawer. “It doesn’t ring, does it?”

 

“How could it?” Jolene asked. “It’s not plugged in.”

 

I felt Sarah looking at me but avoided meeting her eyes. “Come on,” I said. “Let me show you where everything is. And if you hurry, Jolene will pop us some popcorn and we can watch an episode of Wives with Knives.”

 

“As fun as that sounds, I’m pretty tired. I don’t even know if I can manage washing my face and brushing my teeth before I fall asleep.”

 

Jolene looked horrified. “You should never go to bed without your nighttime skin care regimen. My great-granny was one hundred three when she died and didn’t look a day over seventy lying in that coffin. Some say it’s because my grandmama is not only a great funeral director, but she is also an amazing beautician and can do wonders with hair and makeup. But my great-granny looked good anyway because she took such good care of her skin since she was a girl. She claimed her secret was Merle Norman—they used to have a shop at the mall before it closed—but I know she also wasn’t a stranger to that Botox needle, if you know what I mean. Her best friend’s granddaughter’s nephew was a dermatologist, and he—”

 

Sarah yawned, practically swaying on her feet.

 

“Thanks, Jolene,” I said. “We get the point. We can finish this conversation tomorrow, after Sarah’s had some sleep.”

 

Sarah sent me a grateful smile. Communicating with spirits exhausted her. She’d once explained it to me as how the muscles of an athlete must feel after a triathlon—pushed to their limit and needing rest to recuperate. Melanie’s mother, Ginny, was the same way, sometimes confining herself to her bed for an entire day after an episode. Surprisingly, it didn’t affect Melanie at all. But then again, maybe not so surprising because Melanie had been called many things, but never normal.

 

Jolene had already placed an inflated air mattress in the back bedroom, and that’s where Sarah settled in to sleep, with Mardi spooning against her. I took a picture and sent it to Melanie and Jack to let them know she was fine.

 

I heard Jolene pulling dishes from the cabinets in preparation for breakfast the following morning, and I joined her in the kitchen to ask if she needed help. As usual, she thanked me but declined my offer. The kitchen was her domain, and I was happy to relinquish all claims. I had yet to figure out when she slept, as I always went to bed before her, and no matter what time I woke up, she was always already dressed, with hair and makeup fully done, my coffee in my mug, and breakfast already started. For Christmas I was going to ask for hidden cameras to discover her secret, although a little part of me thought that might be the same as sneaking downstairs on Christmas Eve to spy on Santa Claus. My childhood hadn’t allowed me to have that particular fantasy, which meant that I wanted this one to last as long as possible.

 

As I left the kitchen, Jolene handed me a stack of plates to put on the desk on my way to my room, as the desk would be used as a buffet. I carefully moved aside the confetti and streamers for the plates and then, before leaving, opened the bottom drawer just to make sure that the phone was still in there.

 

I fell asleep going over my conversation with Cooper, feeling the stupid smile on my face as I drifted off. Which was why I was surprised to have been dreaming about Beau when I was abruptly awakened in the middle of the night by a wet nose on my left cheek and someone’s finger poking me in my right arm.

 

“Nola?” Sarah whispered. “Are you awake?”

 

“Yes. I had to wake up because someone poked me in the arm.”

 

“Can we sleep with you?”

 

Mardi had curled up in his spot at the foot of the bed and was already snoring. “Do I have a choice?”