The House on Prytania (Royal Street #2)(54)
Author: Karen White

 

Sunny nodded. “When I was here before and I came in through the back door, I saw a back room with a wall full of casement windows. Is that the same room?”

 

“That’s sort of my office-slash–music room. It’s also big enough for a blow-up mattress. Sarah’s staying back there all week, so I guess you can also call it our guest room. I’d hoped the light from the windows would creatively inspire me with my music.”

 

“Has it?”

 

“Not yet. I’m still getting settled into my new life.”

 

Sunny smiled, reminding me of one of the framed photos Mimi kept in her house of a very young Beau with his parents and sister before the abduction and Hurricane Katrina. Sunny’s white-blond hair blew around her pixie-like face, her trademark smile shining out from the frame. It must have been hard for her family to forget that smile or why she’d been nicknamed Sunny.

 

“Don’t worry—you’ve got time. Mimi tells me that when I was little I could pick out any song on the piano, but I can’t even imagine doing that now. I guess I’ve got time, too. As soon as I settle in.”

 

“Well,” I said. “I guess we can settle in together.”

 

“Especially since we’ll be working together fixing up that house on Esplanade. I know that Beau sort of sprang that on you, and I hope it’s okay. I’m a quick study, and I’ve always been interested in old houses and how to fix them up. And I promise I won’t get in your way.”

 

“Thanks,” I said. “It will be a learning experience for both of us.” I headed toward the bathroom so I could shower and dress but stopped halfway. “Quick question for you, Sunny. Do you ever feel your mother’s presence? Or see any evidence that she’s been near?”

 

She looked at me, her face blank. “Like what?”

 

“Well, I’m not what anybody would call psychic, but I can sense cold spots and certain . . . atmospheres, depending on how strong a spirit is. I know you said that you didn’t think you’d inherited any of your family’s psychic gifts, but I was just wondering if maybe you had a more heightened sense than the rest of us normal people.”

 

“No. At least not that I know of.” She shrugged. “Maybe I have and I didn’t recognize it and my adoptive parents just sort of brushed it off. Because it’s not something people would expect.”

 

I nodded. “Have you noticed puddles where there shouldn’t be any? Or wet footprints that just appear?”

 

She shook her head. “Definitely not—and I hope it never happens. I’d probably be so scared, I’d faint.”

 

“Yeah. Me, too.”

 

“Why? Does that happen to Beau?”

 

I nodded. “We’re pretty sure it’s your mom. She’s trying to tell him something, but he doesn’t want to listen. I was wondering if she might be trying to talk to you, too.”

 

“Nope—nothing. Beau got all the psychic genes in the family, and I got the short body.” She grinned. “But I can’t help but wonder why our mother keeps trying to talk with him. Maybe he just needs to force her to go to the light so they both can move on, because there’s no reason anymore for her to be hanging around.”

 

I was surprised by her harshness. She sounded almost bitter, but maybe I did, too, when talking about my mother, Bonnie. Regardless of the reason for a mother’s disappearance, a child’s understanding of it can be either softened or sharpened by memories. I fought almost every day with my own recollections of the mother I’d loved and hated. “Don’t you want to hear what she has to say?”

 

She crossed her arms. “Not really. Our family was destroyed, and it’s time to rebuild what we lost. I just think that Beau should be focusing on finding our dad instead. He might still be alive. Otherwise, wouldn’t Beau have seen him, too?”

 

“You might think. But I have no idea how this works.” I was about to mention Sarah, and how she was still trying to figure out her unique gift, but it wasn’t for me to share. Instead, I said, “Maybe we should be grateful that we’re not the ones being awakened in the middle of the night with a ghost needing to tell us something.”

 

“Well, then,” Sunny said. “I guess we should be grateful.” She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, flashing the fleur-de-lis tattoo on her wrist.

 

“I like your tattoo,” I said.

 

She lifted her arm to look at it, as if to make sure she knew what I was talking about, although from what I could tell, it was her only tattoo. “Thanks. I like it, too. It reminds me of where I was always meant to be.”

 

I smiled and headed to the bathroom, feeling a wistful pang of jealousy at knowing the answer could be summed up in a small symbol marked in permanent ink on the skin.

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER 20

 

 

Despite Jack and Melanie’s insistence on a nap after the massive quantities of food we’d just consumed at Jolene’s New Orleans–themed feast, I helpfully pointed to the itinerary. Everyone had forgotten to bring the ones I’d handed out the previous night, but I’d fortunately printed extras.

 

“As you can see,” I said, indicating the third item on the list, “we have to be at the swamp tour dock by twelve thirty. Which means we have exactly forty-five minutes to tour my house before jumping into our cars.”

 

“But the hotel is so close,” Jack insisted. “Mellie and I could use a little time in bed.”

 

“Ew,” JJ and Sarah said in unison.

 

“I’m sure he meant sleeping,” I said. “It’s an hour’s drive, so you can nap in the car on the way.”

 

“Unless you’re driving,” JJ said. “Then all the screams will keep them awake.”

 

“Very funny. And no. I’m not driving. Beau and Sam said they’d meet us here with Beau’s truck and he’s volunteered to drive.” I didn’t mention how they were supposed to have joined us at breakfast; I preferred not to think about what they might have been doing instead. Beau had at least had the courtesy to text me to let me know they’d meet us at my cottage.

 

When we arrived—ten minutes later than I’d allotted per our itinerary—Beau and Sam had already arrived. I also spotted Jorge’s and Thibaut’s trucks at the curb, indicating that they were inside. They usually didn’t work on Saturdays but instead used the time to film content for the YouTube channel. I found it incredible that Thibaut, a man who didn’t even own a cell phone, had become a social media star. He never watched his performances, and he said he didn’t even know what social media was, but he enjoyed doing it. That was apparently his rule for everything he did in life. If he didn’t enjoy it, then he didn’t do it.