Four
“Idon’t know about you, Josie, but I need to walk that dinner off. How about a walk down Bourbon Street? The trick will be to find a parking space. Are you up for it?”
“I’d love to walk it. I guess your dinner was all you expected. Was your trout as good as you remembered when Prudhomme was the chef?”
“Not quite, but still good. Sometimes the memories are like anticipation: better left alone.”
There was such sadness in Paul’s voice, and Josie’s head jerked upright. “I’m game for Bourbon Street,” she said lightly.
“Good. We’ll stop for a nightcap. Have you been to Preservation Hall lately?”
“Not for years and years. My mother frowned on Bourbon Street and what she called the sinful atmosphere. I do love jazz and blues, though. Kitty and I used to sneak down when we’d come home from college. Do you know who’s there tonight?”
“Percy Humphrey, Harold Dejan, and the Olympia Brass Band. I saw it in the paper this week. I haven’t been there for a while myself.”
“Do they still have those hard wooden chairs and the mildewed cushions on the floor?” Josie asked as she held out her hand to feel the first raindrops of the evening.
“It’s still as run-down as ever, but it is a landmark. I think of it as a rustic environment. Do you want to change your mind since it’s starting to rain?”
“No. I have to warn you: My hair will spread out like a fire bush. When it rains I need a hat.”
“We can fix that. We’ll buy you a hat!”
“That’s the best offer I’ve had all day,” Josie retorted. “If we have time, I’d like to stop at this other club my sister loves: Port Orleans, 228 Bourbon Street. Kitty and Harry are friends of the band. She says they are the greatest, and she doesn’t impress easily; nor does Harry. The band is called Butterfunck. Johnny Pappas on guitar and lead vocals, Réné Richard on bass, and Trey Crain on drums. She said she would kill to look like Johnny’s girl, Jeanne Boudreaux. So, we need to check her out, too. She raves about them all the time. I’d like to see them. Do you mind?”
“It will be my pleasure to take you there wearing your new hat.”
“You are too kind, sir.” Josie giggled. “Ah, I see a parking space. Hurry up and grab it!”
“You are aggressive, aren’t you?” Paul said, as he expertly maneuvered the big Mercedes into the spot.
“I don’t think we’ll have to worry about anyone stealing this car when they see the inside.” Josie giggled again.
“It’s raining harder. Are you going to be able to walk in those shoes?”
“No, these shoes are for standing around in or sitting down. I’ll carry them and go barefoot. This is the Big Easy and Bourbon Street. Anything goes—you know that.”
“Then let’s do it!” Paul reached for her hand, and they sprinted off. He stopped for a minute and pulled her close to him. “This is the most amazing street in the world. Just look at it! Look at the people. You can literally smell the street and it never leaves you. You can be ten thousand miles away, and if you close your eyes, you can see and smell and hear everything that goes on. This is what I remember when I think of New Orleans. I’ve always loved the French Quarter, the Garden District, the French Market, and Bourbon Street. Did you ever attend Mardi Gras?”
“Sad to say, no.”
“Here we go,” Paul said, pulling her into the first shop, which was like a dozen other shops along the way. Within seconds she was wearing a baseball cap that said BOURBON STREET. She giggled when Paul plopped one on his own head. He looked cute in his custom-made suit and baseball cap, the ponytail sticking out the back. She reached for the feathered mask and the strands of beads he handed her—Mardi Gras beads. “Your neck will turn green and red but what the hell! This is Bourbon Street, and no visit is a real visit unless you buy a mask and the beads. Okay, let’s go. Run!”
They were soaked to the skin when they reached Preservation Hall. Paul handed over the admission money and was told, “Standing room only, sir.” He looked questioningly at Josie, who shrugged and nodded.
Josie pointed to a sign over the musicians’ heads. She whispered, “You have to pay extra for them to play ‘When the Saints Go Marching In.’ It doesn’t say how much.”
Paul reached into his pocket as he walked over to the cashier and spoke quietly. She heard him say, “Now, when this set is done.” Money talks, Josie mused.
Josie almost swallowed her tongue when Percy Humphrey stood up and said, “And now for the little lady with the baseball cap and curly hair, we are going to play ‘When The Saints Go Marching In.’ Hit it, boys!”
Josie’s cheeks flamed. “I can’t believe you did that!” The old building literally shook with the thunder of the small crowd who stomped, sang, whistled, and clapped; Josie’s voice was the loudest.
As they dashed through the rain, Josie said, “That was so wonderful. Thank you. I can’t wait to tell Kitty. Thank you for bringing me here.”
“My pleasure. I’m afraid your dress is ruined. I seem to have a knack for messing you up.”
“This old thing!” Josie said, indicating the dress she’d paid a small fortune for. “Don’t give it another thought. By the way, why are we running? We’re already soaking wet.”
“You have a point.” Paul slowed his long-legged stride to match her shorter one. He reached for her hand as they plodded through the puddles.
Josie felt absolutely giddy with his touch.
Music blasted from open doorways as they walked along, people with umbrellas jostling each other, the drinks in their hands spilling into the puddles at their feet. Laughter rocked the street. “There will be a hundred thousand people on this street in a few weeks for Mardi Gras,” Josie said happily. “With the exception of Times Square on New Year’s Eve, I can’t think of a single place with a crowd to match it. I think you were right about these Mardi Gras beads—my dress is turning all different colors.”
Paul threw back his head and laughed. And right then, in the blink of an eye, Josie Dupré fell in love with Paul Brouillette.
“Six strands of beads for ninety-nine cents. What do you expect?” He laughed again.
Josie blinked. Did he realize she was falling in love with him? What was he feeling, if anything? He looked at her then and smiled. She smiled back. He squeezed her hand. She squeezed his hand.
“I think this is the place,” Paul said as he ushered Josie into the bar. His head snapped to attention when the small band began a new set of tunes. “They’re loud. I might be a little too old for this,” he said, helping her onto a high barstool. “What will you have to drink?”
“Beer’s good. I’m still full from dinner. Kitty says we have to ask them to play ‘Mustang Sally.’”
Paul shrugged out of his jacket and placed it around her shivering shoulders. “Two Buds,” he said to the hovering waitress. “I can’t hear myself,” he shouted.
“You aren’t supposed to hear yourself. You’re supposed to listen. They must be good; the place is crowded. I like them,” Josie said, banging the ashtray on the table in time with the music. Paul fished in his pocket and walked over to the band, where he mouthed the words, “Play ‘Mustang Sally.’” She watched as money changed hands.
They stayed until the band, went on break. The moment Josie yawned, Paul lifted her off the barstool and ushered her out the door. “We’ll come back for Mardi Gras if I’m in town.”
Josie stepped in a puddle and yelped. “Okay,” he said, picking her up and slinging her over his shoulder. “It’s time to go home. It’s been a very interesting evening.”
“It’s always interesting when you fall in love,” Josie mumbled as she bounced around on Paul’s shoulders.
Paul grinned as rain beat down on him and the slender girl on his shoulder. “I’m going to run now, so hold on.”
My rear end is right in his face, Josie realized. Suddenly her head jerked upright, the baseball cap landing in a puddle. What if he heard what she’d just mumbled. “Hey, slow down! Stop! My hat fell off. I want the hat! Put me down.”
A devil perched itself on Paul’s shoulder as he swung around, searching under the garish neon light for the biggest puddle he could find. He swung around again and dropped her, rear end first, into an ankle-deep puddle.
Josie winced with the jolt to her posterior but was quick enough to reach out with her right hand to grasp Paul’s ankle. He went down on all fours as rain pelted the two of them. Josie crawled away, laughter bubbling in her throat as her hand snaked out for the baseball cap that was now soaking wet. She plopped it on her head.
People hurrying to get to their cars joined their laughter as they passed by. No one stopped. This was, after all, the Big Easy, where laissez les bons temp rouler was the rule of the day. “My mother would never approve of this. What about your mother?” Josie managed to gasp as peals of laughter rocked her shoulders. “You look pretty silly, sitting there in that puddle. Your suit is ruined. My dress is ruined. Just like your car. Everything is ruined. Isn’t that funny?”
The moment was gone as fast as it arrived. Paul was on his feet, his hand stretched out to help her up. “I guess I did look rather silly, and my mother wouldn’t care. It’s late. I need to think about getting you home.”
“Wait a minute. Why the switch up? What did I say to put that look on your face? That you look silly? You did look silly, as silly as I looked. Hey, we’re on Bourbon Street. It was a silly moment. It was fun. Now you look and act and sound like a . . . stuffy banker. I guess it is time to go home,” she said, all the fun gone from her voice.
Later, in her driveway, Paul turned to her and said, “For some reason you rattle me. I don’t understand it. I’m sorry if I took all the fun out of your evening there at the end.”
“You rattle me, too. Did I do something, say something?”
“No. It was just the end of a very long day. Do you still want me to stop by with breakfast?”
“I’d like that.”
“Then it’s a date.” He made a move to open the door. She stopped him.
“Don’t get out. I’ll go around the back. I want to take off these wet clothes in the laundry room. I can’t believe it’s still raining. Thanks for the beads and stuff. I really enjoyed the evening. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Good night, Josie.”
She’d really thought he was going to reach for her and kiss her good night. Instead, he gave her a jaunty little salute before he backed his car out of the driveway. Damn, maybe she wasn’t in love after all. Then what was that giddy feeling that ripped through her back there in the rain?
Josie sloshed through the rain in the dark. She wished she’d had the good sense to turn on the back light before she left the house. It didn’t matter—she knew the yard and garden by heart. She stopped in her tracks when she heard a sound coming from the back porch—a sound that literally stopped her heart. She waited, aware that the tiny purse on her shoulder would be no weapon against an intruder. There was a broom on the back porch. If she could get to the back porch, it might help. If not, it was her time to get mugged. Whoever he was, he was a heavy breather. Chills ran up and down her spine. “I have a gun!” she squeaked. “I’m going to shoot and if I hit you . . . Oh my God,” she yelled when a monstrous four-legged creature slammed up against her, knocking her to the ground. “Zip! How did you get here?” She groaned. “Stop licking me. I don’t need a bath. I’ve been in the rain all night. Okay, okay, come on. I’ll let you in. Poor thing, you’re soaked, too. Have you been here all night? This is amazing. How ever did you get out? Your owner is going to be worried sick just the way I would be if Rosie got out.”
The boxer ran up the steps and stood panting by the back door, his impatience showing by the way he pranced and danced around the porch as Josie fumbled with the key. She watched for a minute as both dogs tussled on the kitchen floor, their delight in one another a joy to experience. “This,” she muttered, “must be true love.
“Hey, Rosie, it’s me. You know, me. Your owner. I’m the one who feeds and walks you and makes sure you don’t get fleas.” The little dog tilted her head, barked twice, her tail swishing furiously. “Okay, if that’s all the greeting I get, I guess it’s okay. Go on. Keep on doing whatever it is you were doing. I let this guy in, you know.”
She was down to her skimpy, lacy underwear when the phone in the kitchen rang. She padded over to the counter and picked up the phone. “He’s here. He was waiting on the back porch. Right now he’s under my kitchen table. You were already out of the driveway when I found him.”
“How did you know it was me on the phone?” Paul asked, a smile in his voice.
“I don’t know anyone else who would call me at one o’clock in the morning. Let’s just say it was an educated guess. It’s okay if he stays. You can pick him up in the morning.”
“He knows how to open the French doors. I didn’t know that until this evening. He’s never done anything like that before. It’s amazing that he found his way to your house and that he’s safe and sound. I guess I’ll have to crate him from now on when I leave. I hate doing that to him. I wouldn’t want to be put in a cage, would you?”
“No, I wouldn’t. He’s fine. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“You’re a good sport, Josie. Thank you.”
Good sport. No kiss good night. Stuffy-banker attitude. “You’re welcome.”
“I’ll make sure the beignets are fresh this time. See you in the morning. Thanks again for agreeing to keep Zip.”
The clock on the nightstand shrilled to life. Josie cracked an eyelid. She groaned. No one should have to get up at five-thirty in the morning. Absolutely no one. She swung her legs over the side of the bed and groaned again. The boxer rose to his feet and stretched. Rosie did the same thing. “Time to go out, huh? Okay, let’s go and let’s make it quick. We have company coming for breakfast.” She leaned over the boxer. “Your owner is coming for you.” The dog stared at her for a long minute before he dropped to his belly and squirmed his way under her bed.
Rosie yipped her disapproval by peering under the bed; Josie dropped to the floor. “Look, Zip. Maybe I’m wrong and your owner isn’t coming. Maybe it’s wishful thinking on my part. I’m going to pick up your girlfriend and take her outside. If you pee under my bed, you will never be allowed up here again. I know you understand everything I’m saying, so let’s hop to it.” The huge dog dropped his head between his paws and stared at her. It was obvious he had no intention of moving.
Josie whirled around to grab Rosie before she could belly under the bed to join Zip. They were back in the house in under ten minutes. Zip was still under the bed. “If you’re under there for the long haul, we’re going to have a problem,” Josie said as she headed for the bathroom.
It was six forty-five when Josie exited the bathroom dressed in a swirling lavender skirt with matching blouse. “Let’s go downstairs where I’ll have some café noir and you get some kibble. That’s an order, Rosie.” She wasn’t the least bit surprised when neither dog followed her down the stairs and out to the kitchen. Rosie was always ahead of her and would jump up on one of the chairs to wait expectantly for either a treat or some real food. The sudden urge to cry was so strong, she bit down on her lower lip. Damn, her well-ordered life was suddenly upside down. “I wish you were here, Mom. Something’s happening to me, and I’m not sure how I should deal with it. If you were here, you’d know exactly what to say to me. It’s really strange, Mom, that Rosie would choose the chair you always used to sit on when we had our café noir. You always said our early-morning coffee was the best. I put chicory in it just like you used to do. Rosie is like a person. She really is. Damn it, I just want to cry.”
“Then goddamn it, cry!” Kitty said from the open doorway. “You talking to Mom again? I talked to her myself last night. You know, to apologize for running buck-ass naked through the rain, slurping on a mango. Just in case she could, you know, kind of see. Why do you want to cry?”
“Because Rosie doesn’t need me anymore. All she wants is Zip. They’re both under my bed, and Zip won’t come out because I told him Paul was coming for him. When I got home last night he was waiting on the back porch. Paul said he knows how to open the French doors. He came here. He must have been here for hours. I felt sorry for him, so I let him stay. Paul’s bringing beignets, and I just made coffee. Tell me, what was it like?”
“You mean being naked in the rain or the part about the mango or the details on how it felt being chased by Harry? Mangos are so juicy, especially if they’re ripe. Harry loved licking the juice off my body. In a word, spectacular ! That’s with a capital S.”
“I see now why you were talking to Mom.” Josie laughed. “Set the table.”
“Paper plates okay?”
“Sure. I’m too busy today to do any cleanup. The ladies are coming to help. This little luncheon we’re catering and the dinner party will be a good way for them to dive in and see how it all works. I hope for all our sakes that it works out.”
“Me too. If it does, we might be able to take that ski trip in December. All we do is work, Josie. I didn’t realize how tired I was until last night when I let it all hang out. I really didn’t want to get dressed and come here this morning. I’m going to be such a good wife to Harry.”
“The best,” Josie said with a catch in her voice. Everyone was leaving her. First her mother and dad, then Rosie, and now Kitty. She would be alone with a lovesick dog.
“I can’t wait to get married and have kids. Lots and lots of kids. I wonder if I’ll have twins. That would be so wonderful. Harry told me last night he might get transferred to Atlanta. I didn’t want to tell you, but you need to know.”
“Georgia! When?”
“Six weeks. I’m not going to go with him. I’ll finish out the year and move after we get married. Harry said he would come back every weekend. I don’t know how that’s going to work out since our busiest times are the weekends.”
“You love him very much, don’t you, Kitty?”
“With all my heart and soul.”
“Then you have nothing to worry about. Everything will work out just fine. I know you’re worried about me, and that’s not good. I’ll be fine. The worst-case scenario is we sell off the business and I go back to Baton Rouge. Trust me when I tell you it will not be a punishment. I love Baton Rouge.”
“I hear a car.”
“That means our breakfast is here.”
“Do you want me to leave?”
“Absolutely not. Sit down. I’ll get the door. Don’t ask him any questions,” she hissed over her shoulder.
“Okay,” Kitty hissed back.
“Beautiful day, isn’t it?” Paul said as he handed over a bakery box and followed Josie back to the breakfast nook. “Where’s Zip?” he asked, looking around.
He looked so good. He smelled even better. She thought about the suit he’d been wearing the previous night and wondered if it was salvageable. She shrugged. “He’s under my bed with Rosie, and he won’t come out. I made the mistake of telling him you were coming to get him. I’m sorry. He simply won’t come out.”
“You need to be stern. There’s a certain tone of voice you have to use. You have to show animals you’re their superior, their boss, if you will. Special treats or people food usually work. If none of that works, then you have to trick them. Do you have any ham or cheese?”
Josie opened the refrigerator and cut off a chunk of cheese. “It’s not going to work. I think you’re going to have to take the bed apart.”
“That’s rather extreme, don’t you think? By the way, I have to go to New York today. I’m going to drop Zip off at a dog spa. He’s been there before, and he actually likes it. Can I give them your name in case anything goes awry? Just in case he gets sick, which I don’t think he will. He’s healthy as a horse and has had all his shots. A friend of mine used to look in on him when I boarded him, but he’s in Europe.”
No. I’m not a dog-sitter. I’m going to be busy. I think I’m starting to get your schtick, Mr. Brouillette. A dog is a responsibility, and if you aren’t willing to take that responsibility, then you don’t deserve to have that dog. I’m not agreeing to any such thing. Find some other sucker.
“I’ll only be gone a week. Ten days at the most.”
“You’re leaving your dog for ten whole days!”
“I don’t have any other choice. Can I give them your phone number?”
“Yes.” Fool, her mind shrieked. Josie looked up to see her sister clamp her hand over her mouth to keep from laughing.
“Okay, boy, let’s go. Time to come out. Don’t make me come in there after you,” Paul said as he crouched down to peer under the bed.
Rosie’s little head poked out. She snarled and lunged at Paul’s hand. He snatched it back so quickly that Josie burst out laughing. “I think she’s trying to tell you not to mess with her man.”
“Now, Zip. I’m going to count to three! One! Two! Three!”
“No one seems to be moving.” Josie giggled again.
“I see that. All right, we’ll take the mattress and box spring off. How’d he get under there anyway?”
“He crawled on his belly.”
“I’ll take this end. You and your sister take the other end. That way, we’ll just have to tilt the box spring.”
Five minutes later, just as they all moved in sync to lift the box spring, Zip and Rosie hopped over the frame and raced for the hall and the stairs.
“Damn it, I have a plane to catch. Can they get out?”
“I don’t think so,” Josie said, straightening the box spring with Kitty’s help. They gave the mattress a shove. It landed squarely on top of the box spring. Both girls dusted their hands dramatically.
“This is just a wild thought, but five will get you ten you end up taking care of that dog,” Kitty said. “Sounds like a war going on down there. Maybe we should check it out.”
“Maybe we should,” Josie said, eyeing the wrinkled sheets that had come untucked. “I haven’t even had my coffee yet.”
“You’re in love with him, aren’t you?” Kitty said, taking her sister’s arm and pulling her around to face her. “It’s okay if you are, Josie. Remember how Mom set eyes on Dad and they were married three weeks later? It happens like that sometime. Roll with it.”
“I don’t know about the love part, but I do feel a very strong attraction to him. He’s so different from the men I’ve dated. He didn’t even kiss me last night. There’s something out of whack about him. One minute he’s up and the next he closes up. I’m starting to think maybe I said the wrong thing, gave off bad vibes. You know me.”
Kitty wrapped her arm around her sister’s shoulders. “What will be will be. Enjoy whatever it is you have right now. Open up, Josie.”
Josie nodded. “Let’s go downstairs and see if he’s made any progress.”
“You a bettin’ woman, Josie?”
“Nope. Hey, let’s slide down the banister.”
Kitty hiked up her long skirt and whooped her pleasure as she slid down the polished teak wood banister.
“Ninety miles an hour—isn’t that what Dad said? Wow, when was the last time we did that?”
“The day after . . . after the funeral. It was stupid then, and it’s stupid now. We thought it would make us feel better. It didn’t.”
“Oh. How could I have forgotten that?”
“The same way I did until this moment. You block it out.”
Josie walked into the sunny kitchen. Her gaze swept past Paul’s helpless expression to the snarling dogs under the table. It was a losing battle—one she wasn’t going to win either. She sighed. “It’s okay, Rosie. He can stay.”
The relief on Paul’s face brought a smile to Josie’s. A long time ago her mother had said there was nothing in the world she wouldn’t do to bring a smile to her father’s face. Maybe she was like her mother after all.
“If you leave now, he’ll know he’s staying. Tell him.”
Paul dropped to his haunches. “Okay, big guy, you can stay with Rosie. We’re going to talk about this when I get back.” Zip bellied out from under the table to lick his master’s face. Rosie did a wild dance around the kitchen before Josie opened the back door. Both dogs hit the open doorway at a dead run.
“I don’t know how to thank you, Josie. I’m sorry about last night. I had no idea Zip could get out. I’m going to do some hard thinking where he’s concerned. I’m sorry about breakfast, too. It was nice seeing you again, Kitty. When I get back I’d like to take you both to Brennan’s for breakfast. This is the key to my house in case you need to go there for any of Zip’s things. Here’s a number where you can reach me if you have to. I’ll call to check on him if that’s okay with you.”
“No problem,” Josie said coolly. “You don’t have to call. We’ll all be just fine. Your dog is having the time of his life,” she said, pointing to the backyard, where both dogs were running in circles. “You better hurry or you’ll miss your flight.” Her voice turned downright frosty.
“The bed . . .”
“We fixed it,” Kitty chirped. “Women can do anything men can do.”
Paul’s eyebrows shot upward. It looked like he was about to say something, but changed his mind.
“You don’t want to go there, Mr. Brouillette,” Josie said.
“Now you’re angry with me. You aren’t going to take it out on my dog, are you?”
Josie opened the door and motioned him to leave. “Your dog will be just fine.”
“That was kind of bitchy wasn’t it?” Kitty said quietly.
“Yes, I guess it was,” Josie said, her eyes on the dogs in the yard. How happy they were. She could almost forgive Rosie’s defection. Wasn’t love about making the other person happy? That’s what her mother had told both her and Kitty when they were seventeen.
Suck it up, Josie. He’s just a guy. Another fish in the ocean. A guy with a ponytail. A guy with dark laughing eyes and an engaging smile who just happens to have a rogue dog who just happens to be in love with your dog.
Kitty watched as her sister picked up the bakery box by the string and dropped it into the trash compactor. Damn, her tongue was hanging out for one of the warm, sugary beignets.
“How about some coffee, Kitty?”
“No time. I have too much to do in the kitchen. What time do we have to have the food at the Andreponts’?”
“Twelve sharp. Mrs. Andrepont has a wonderful kitchen with lots of room. Everything will go off on schedule. Tonight is going to be tight and close. As soon as I finish my coffee, I’m off to pick up the ladies. I’ll be back inside of an hour.”
“He seems like a nice guy, Josie. Cut him some slack. Don’t let this dog business throw you. I don’t want you getting all pissy on me now. Think this through. Hey, the guy gave you the key to his house. He didn’t have to do that. You’d kill me if I ever gave Harry a key to this house. Think about that.”
Josie turned her back so her sister she wouldn’t see the tears that were about to flood her eyes. Why was she crying anyway? That would be the day when she cried over some man. The tears were because of Rosie. God, how she loved that little dog. “Traitor,” she muttered.