***
WHEN I WOKE up, Lilly was gone. I ordered coffee and called Brenda to see if she'd like to have lunch.
"Oh, I just love the Capitol Grille," she said. "I'll come down there a little after noon. Will you get us a table?"
Brenda was wearing a red dress that hugged her perfect figure. She glided across the room as though her heels weren't three inches high, and I thought how I wished I were graceful and ladylike rather than a tomboy.
I picked at my salad, and Brenda talked about her kids and the upcoming football game. I told her Lilly and I were excited about it and thanked her again for inviting us.
"Lilly should spend the night with us Friday because the kids are going to a party after the game." She took a sip of her water then looked at me funny. "Oh, Sissy. I didn't mean to leave you out. You are welcome to stay with us, too."
"That's okay. You and Robert deserve some time alone." I pushed the lettuce around my plate and wondered how to tell her about Luke. "Anyway. I met someone. I was wondering whether I could invite him to the game."
"Oh, do tell. Who is he? Last week we talked about blind dates."
"I know. When I tell you who he is, you might not want me to bring him to the game."
"Why not? He's not a convict, is he?" She laughed at her own joke and took a bite of a tomato.
"No, actually he works for Robert." I lifted my eyes from my plate and looked at her shyly.
"Oh, who?"
"His name is Lucas McMath. He's an Attorney in the AG's office."
"I don't know him. I'll ask Robert about him and let him decide if it would be uncomfortable to have him at a family function." She peered at me over her glass of water.
"I didn't tell him I know you and Robert." I sat up straight and crossed my ankles under my chair.
"How well do you know him?" Her glare made me feel uncomfortable, but I didn't know why.
"Not well. We've only had one date. It was last night. We're going out to dinner tonight." My hands were folded in my lap. I'd quit trying to eat my lunch. I couldn't swallow.
"Do you like him?" She put her fork down and gave me her undivided attention.
"Yes, but I'm trying not to. I'd like you to ask Robert about him." I felt hot tears gather behind my eyelids and pulled a tissue from my purse. "I mean, I want to know if he's a creep or if he's for real. I don't know who else to ask."
"I'll find out and let you know." She reached for my hand and patted it. We talked about Luke a little more, and she asked me what he looked like, what we talked about, how much we had in common. Then we talked about the case, and I told her I'd met Luke the day before when I went to the AG's office to tell Robert about the defense fund someone had set up for Thevenot and Rousseau.
"Robert was in court, so I met with Detective Schiller." I patted my eye with the tissue. "Luke was in Schiller's office. That's how I met him. He's handling the case against Thevenot."
"He must be a smart lawyer if Robert trusts him with such a high-profile case." The tenor of her voice was kind and supportive, and I started to feel better about telling her.
We talked about the football game and about how much the Morris kids loved Lilly.
"If I didn't know better, I'd say Bobby likes Lilly more like a girlfriend than a friend. How does she feel about him?" Brenda looked directly into my eyes when she spoke.
"I'm not sure. I know she loves both your kids." I wasn't going to tell Brenda that Lilly was crazy about Bobby. I had a philosophy not to share another person's business, especially family.
"Oh, well. I hope Bobby doesn't get hurt. This is the first time he's shown interest in a girl." She looked at her salad. I changed the subject to what I should wear on my dinner date. Brenda said she would take me to her favorite dress shop near the campus.
Shopping with Brenda was like taking a bath in a tub full of bubbles. She floated above all the merchandise until she found the perfect thing that seemed to appear from nowhere. She had me try on a couple of dresses and declared the black Chanel sleeveless sheath perfect for any occasion. She insisted I buy a gold, black, and red pashmina shawl and made me promise I had a pair of black pumps with at least two-inch heels.
"No matter where he takes you to dinner, you'll be dressed perfectly." She watched the sales clerk hang the dress and put it in a black travel bag with "Chanel" stamped in gold on the front. "You can't go wrong with a little black dress."
I paid with my dad's credit card and knew he'd scream when he got the bill. I didn't care.
*
That evening, I put my long hair up in a ponytail and applied a little make-up, some mascara, and lip-gloss. Lilly said I looked glamorous, and that she was happy I was going out because she had a big math test the next morning.
Luke called my room from the house phone in the lobby and was standing just outside the elevator when the doors opened on the first floor. The look on his face told me that no matter how much my dad yelled at me, my Chanel dress was worth it.
Gino's Italian Restaurant was located on Bennington Avenue, off College Drive. Luke said that Grace Marino and her family had opened the intimate eatery in 1966 about fifteen years after they emigrated from Sicily.
"It was on Perkins Road back then," Luke told me while we waited for the maître d’ to seat us. "They moved to this location in 1975." The restaurant had low lighting, white linen tablecloths, and dark wood accents. The traditional southern Italian food was supposedly prepared according to Mrs. Marino's personal recipes. Our waiter said he'd worked for Gino's since it first opened in '66. His Cajun drawl had not been affected by the Italianese of the chef and her team. Raphael was as Cajun-French as they came, and was the best server I'd ever had.
Luke and I talked about his college and law school days, and I asked him how he could be twenty-eight years old and unattached. He told me that he dated a girl all through college and she was killed in a car accident on graduation night.
"We weren't together that night." He swirled his drink around in his glass and stared at the golden-brown liquid as he spoke. "I'd graduated the year before and was studying for law school finals at the end of my first year. She went out with her girlfriends, and the car went off the highway and wrapped around a street light. The other three girls were hurt, the driver, pretty badly. Sheila was the only one who died. It's taken me a long time to work through the guilt."
"I'm so sorry, Luke." I squeezed his arm and let my hand linger on the fabric of his suit coat. He wore a purple, white, and yellow bow tie and looked gorgeous in the table's candlelight in the corner of the restaurant. He didn't look at me for the longest time. Finally, he looked up and smiled.
"It's funny. Just when I think I've healed and moved on, a memory washes over me." He winked at me. "Sorry."
"That's perfectly understandable." I patted his arm and stared at him. He looked directly into my eyes as though he could see my soul. "My sister lost her husband three years ago, remarried this past June, but still has waves of grief wash over her at times."
"Yes. Well. It's been six years. You'd think…" His voice drifted off, and he took a sip of his drink. I let go of his arm and drank some wine. "So tell me about this football game you and Lilly are going to tomorrow night."
"Oh, Lilly is sort of sweet on this boy who's a senior at Catholic High. He's the quarterback." I liked that he changed the subject to something lighter. I told him about Bobby but didn't say his last name or mention that he was Robert's son. I hadn't heard from Brenda, so I evaded the subject, unsure of how Robert felt about me inviting Luke to the football game. I explained that Lilly and I would be going to New Orleans Saturday for the weekend.
"When will you be back in Baton Rouge?" He asked it off-handedly.
"I'm not sure." The waiter arrived with our salads, and we didn't talk until he left. "I'm looking for an apartment or a rental house for Lilly and me."
"You're getting a place in Baton Rouge?" He put his fork down and stared at me.
"Yep. I promised Susie I'd find a place so Lilly can move out of the dorm." I took a bite of lettuce and pretended I didn't know he was staring at me.
"Really? When?"
"As soon as I find something. I've looked at all the flyers and followed up on some of the ads in the paper, but nothing feels right. I don't want a place where college students live. I'm too old for that."
He told me about the neighborhood where he lived and said it had a number of rental houses. He gave me the name and phone number of his landlord.
"He might have something come up." Luke finally started to eat his salad. "He doesn't advertise because he usually has a waiting list. I'll put in a good word for you, and maybe he'll move you to the top of the list."
"That's nice of you. Thanks." I put my fork down and took a sip of wine. "This is good wine. Thank you."
"Thanks for going out with me." He put his fork down, took the napkin off his lap, and put it on the table. He turned in his chair so his knees were almost touching the side of my leg. "I haven't dated anyone seriously these past six years. Oh, a little here and there, but no one interested me." He took my hand off my lap and held it. Then he pulled it to his mouth and kissed my fingertips. "I guess what I'm saying is that I really like you and I'd like to see you again."
If I had tried to talk, I would have stuttered, because he had me all twisted up inside, so I didn't say a word. We call it being "fâchéd" in Cajun French. It's pronounced: fah-shade. The literal French translation is, angry; but Cajuns use the word to mean embarrassed or all messed up and tongue-tied.
During dinner, he asked me whether I had a job. I guess it seemed unusual that I could live in Jean Ville, move to Baton Rouge, and spend most weekends in New Orleans. I told him I taught private piano and voice lessons, and he seemed enamored that I was a musician. He asked whether I would play something for him, and I told him I needed a piano.
After dinner, we went into the bar for after-dinner drinks, and there was a guy playing an upright piano in the corner of the dimly lit room. Luke went to talk to him and put some bills in the tip jar. When the guy took his break, Luke said I could play the piano. He laughed and said he had cleared it with authorities. He took my hand and led me to the black, ebony Yamaha and sat next to me on the bench.
I played a piece by Beethoven, then broke into some boogie-woogie. The people sitting at the bar and tables all stopped talking, and soon, about ten of them were gathered around the piano. I took requests for a while and played Staying Alive, Dancing Queen, and American Pie. Everyone sang along, and I didn't look at Luke until I returned the piano to the guy who was paid to play it.
Luke's mouth hung open, and I used my hand to push his chin up to shut it. We both laughed and left the bar. He held my hand while we waited for the valet parking attendant to drive under the portico. He hadn't said anything to me since I'd played the piano, and I wondered whether the ruckus I had caused had changed his mind about me.
Before he drove off from the restaurant, he turned to me and took both my hands in his.
"Now I'm really smitten." He bent towards me and kissed me on the cheek. "Beauty and talent, too. My, my. And how is it that you are still unattached?" He put the car in gear and drove off.
"Let's just say I dated this guy from high school for a long time and came to my senses," I whispered as though I didn't want to admit I'd ever known Warren Morrow.
"I'm glad you did, then." He smiled at me sideways and drove me back to the hotel in silence. He parked in the lot behind the hotel and turned the car off. "I don't want to scare you off, but I'm not one to play games. Will you go out with me again?”
I felt myself blush, the rash hot on my neck was climbing up fast. "Look. I don't have much experience. I mean, I had this one boyfriend in high school, and we just kept seeing each other. I don't think you could say we really 'dated'; we just went out, or he came to my house. I don't know how to date. Not really."
"You're doing very well for not having had any experience." He took my hands and faced me. "Tell me if I crowd you. You're just so different from any girl I've ever known. You're so . . . let's see, how do I say this. You're natural. There's nothing fake or pretentious about you. If you think something, you say it. You don't try to impress others, and I don't think you would know how to tell a lie if you wanted to. You're very transparent."
"Is that good?"
"Very." He smiled. "And the way you blush and get that red rash on your neck is totally charming. I know what you're thinking and feeling without you saying a word."
I put my hand around my neck and rubbed it as though I could make it disappear. He laughed at me and pulled my hands off my neck and kissed my fingers.
Lilly was asleep when I crept into the room. I undressed slowly and hung my dress and pashmina in the closet, then washed my face. I looked in the mirror and saw that the rash on my neck was slowly disappearing. When I thought about Luke, it started to come back.
*
Brenda told me it would be fine to invite Luke to the football game, but I decided it would complicate things. I needed a break from him to filter through my thoughts and feelings. I was conflicted about whether I should formally break up with Warren before dating someone else. It was all sudden and confusing.
At halftime, Robert sat next to me and said Brenda had told him I was seeing Luke McMath.
"He's a great guy. Not that you need my approval." Robert offered me some of his popcorn, and I said "no", because I didn't like getting the kernels in my teeth. "I don't mind if you tell him we're friends. It shouldn't make a difference."
"Thanks. I like him, but I don't really know him." I watched the band on the field, and tuned out the music.
"He's a very smart guy, a brilliant lawyer. As a person, I think what you see is what you get."
"That's good to know." I shifted in my stadium seat. "By the way, how's the case against Thevenot and Rousseau coming along?"
"Luke would know more about the case than I do." He put a handful of popcorn in his mouth as Brenda got back from the bathroom and sat next to him. "They brief me at our weekly staff meetings. I think we're waiting for a trial date." He took Brenda's hand and held it.
"Did they tell you about the defense fund someone set up at the Confederate Bank?"
"Yes. Interesting. We're going to try to subpoena the bank records to find out who's funding it."
"What would that tell you?" I didn't understand Robert's insinuation.
"It could give us an understanding of who might not want the defendants to sing." He tilted his popcorn towards Brenda, and she took a few pieces. "We are sure there are bigger fish behind the two yo-yos who went after Rodney. If we can't get Thevenot and Rousseau to rat them out, maybe we can find out another way. Schiller is on it."
I thought about what Robert said about there being people behind the shooting. Maybe ex-Sheriff Guidry. It was well known that he'd been head of the Klan in years past. I mentioned his name to Robert, and he told me to tell Luke about my suspicions.
*
I arrived at the house on Ryan Avenue at about four o'clock on Saturday. No one was home, so I let myself in and put my things in Lilly's room. Marianne had taken a job with a cardiology practice at Ochsner Clinic so she could work days and have weekends off. Susie spent every day with Rodney in the rehab unit, but she had to leave by seven at night, and she was free in the middle of the day when Rod was in therapy.
By the time I unpacked my things and poured myself a glass of tea, I heard a key in the front door.
"Hey. Sissy. You here? I see your car out front." Marianne hollered from the living room, and I met her in the dining room. We hugged, and she looked at my glass of iced tea. "That looks good, but I'm thinking something a little stronger."
We went to the kitchen, and she opened a bottle of white wine. We took our glasses onto the back porch and sat in facing chairs.
"How was your week," I took a sip of my wine and stared at Marianne. She looked tired and stressed.
"Fine. I like my job. I'm usually off on Saturdays, but I went in this afternoon to get my charts done." She smiled at me and took a sip of wine.
"How are Susie and Rodney?"
"Better every day. I usually go to the hospital to see Rodney at about seven, and bring Susie home for the night. Soon she'll be able to walk here from the hospital." She slouched in her chair as though overly tired.
"I'll go get her tonight. You look tired." I sat on the edge of my seat as though I were about to stand up.
"She eats dinner with Rodney, and I fend for myself. What would you like for supper?" Marianne seemed preoccupied, her eyes at half-mast.
"What about your boyfriend, Dr. Warner? Are you still seeing him?"
"Yes. In fact, we have a date tonight." Marianne rolled her wine glass back and forth between her hands.
"Well, you go get a shower and dress for your date. I'll go to the hospital, visit with Rodney, and bring Susie home. Where's Lilly?"
"Her boyfriend came from Baton Rouge, and they went down to the World’s Fair. Have you been, yet? It's really sensational" Marianne took a sip of her wine and leaned back in her chair.
"No, I haven't had time, but I'll put it on my 'to-do' list." I smiled at her and thought I should tell her about Luke. "I met someone."
"Oh, Do tell!" She sat straight up in her chair. "Someone special?"
"It's hard to know. I've only been out with him twice, but I like him." I smiled when I thought about Luke. I told her about our dates, and how Robert said that Luke was a great guy.
"When will you see him again?" She reached over and took my hand, almost motherly.
"He'll be in Jean Ville next week for a hearing on the case. I'm going to invite him to my apartment for dinner."
"The case? What does he have to do with the case?"
"He's a prosecutor with the attorney general's office, and is in charge of the case against Thevenot and Rousseau."
"He must be smart." She looked serious. I thought about Luke and all the things he had going for him: intelligence, talent, looks, manners, pretty much everything a girl would want in a guy. The opposite of Warren Morrow. I felt my neck start to burn, and soon the warmth spread to my cheeks, and that damn blushing thing happened. Marianne started to laugh, and we both ended up in stitches.
*
Rodney looked better than I'd seen him in months. He was in a wheelchair, and I sat next to him and told him about how the case was proceeding. Then I told him about Luke. Susie was all ears, asking questions as though she were my mother and needed to screen my dates. I reminded them both that I was almost twenty-six years old, and that meant I was an adult.
"But I do appreciate that you both care so much." I looked from Susie to Rodney and smiled. "You make me feel loved."
"You… are…" Rodney said in a stutter.
"I appreciate that, brother." I hugged his neck, and he put his left arm over my shoulder and squeezed. "I want a man just like you."
Rodney and Susie both grinned.
"When are you planning to move to Baton Rouge?" Susie finally had followed me into the hall and stood facing me.
"I can move any time, but I'll need some financial help. I mean, I can't really afford an apartment."
"I'll pay for an apartment for the two of you." Susie leaned against the wall. "That sounds like the best idea."
"I've been looking, and I have a few leads. Meanwhile, if Brenda offers, and Lilly wants to stay there, she could stay with the Morrises until I find a place, buy some furniture, and get settled."
"You can have the furniture from the house on Gravier Road. Hire a mover to take it to Baton Rouge. If you move out of the garage apartment, I think I'll either sell or rent that place. Rodney and I will never live in Jean Ville.” Susie looked from me to Rodney.
“I’d like to keep the apartment through the trial, so I have a place to stay.” I looked at Susie and she nodded.
We chatted for another fifteen minutes, and I told her I'd like to take Lilly to New York during the Thanksgiving holidays.
"I think she misses Joe. She also mentioned going to see Emma." I watched Susie's face darken.
"It would be good for her to go to New York," Susie looked up, and her expression changed to something that resembled understanding. "I only wish I could take her. She's never been up there without me."
"She'll be fine. Really, Susie, she's old enough to go alone, but I'm happy to go with her. You were close to her age when you went off to Sarah Lawrence all by yourself."
Susie didn't respond, only looked off into the distance as though remembering something unpleasant.
*
The next morning, Marianne told me that Warner had kissed her. She blushed when she said she liked it, which made me laugh.
"He took me to a restaurant in the French Quarters called Galatoire’s. It was fancy, expensive, romantic." Marianne had a faraway look in her eyes.
"How was the restaurant?"
"It was fabulous. He told me the fish was always fresh, and I told him about Catfish and how he loved to catch fish and cook them fresh. We talked about how much I miss my grandfather, and he said he'd lost his grandfather, too.” She looked at me intently. “I wonder what Catfish would think of Donato Warner.” She paused and looked at the ceiling with a faraway expression.
“Anyway, I was sort of confused by everything: the menu selections were complicated—so many different kinds of fish, sauces, sides; so he ordered for us both." Marianne laughed at herself and continued talking as though I weren't in the room. "I was also confused by him: his presence, his hands, his kindness. He held my hand on the corner of the table, and I couldn't think.
"He apologized for being a scumbag. I told him I don't have enough experience to know what a scumbag is, and I felt myself blush. 'A scumbag is someone who comes on too strong. Who takes you to dives instead of nice restaurants. Who expects you to put-out. Who moves too fast.' He squeezed my hand, and I finally looked at him.
"'Then I guess you're a scumbag,' I said and started to laugh. He sat back in his chair and laughed, too. I guess it broke through the curtain of distrust that hung between us because we actually had a great conversation after that. We talked about him, a lot. About his background, his parents, his three siblings. We talked about his ex-wife and New York and medical school. We talked about Rodney and Susie, and the unusual medical progress they are making.
"'I want what they have,' he said and looked at me intently. 'I see the way you watch them. You want that, too, right?’
"'Who doesn't? Who wouldn't want what they have?' I said. Then I told him how difficult Susie and Rodney's journey had been, and that mixed-race relationships aren't accepted down here. I wanted him to know upfront that I was afraid of what might happen if he and I dated.
"'I don't know how to say this without insulting you and your race,' he said 'But you don't look African American.' Just then, the waiter brought our food, which gave me a chance to think. I told him that I was proud of my heritage and that maybe no one would know I was black in New Orleans, but that at home, in Jean Ville, everyone knows my family and my background.
"'Okay, let's just stay out of Jean Ville,' he said and laughed, as if the solution was so simple. I said, 'My family is there. My life. My career.' I started to think about what I had in Jean Ville that would coax me back: my mom, my four sisters, my two nieces, my uncles and aunt, and their spouses and kids. Then he said, 'I don't mean to sound trite. I'm sorry. Tell me about your family. I already know and love your mom.' He put his fork down and listened, giving me his undivided attention. I told him about my aunts, uncles, and cousins, and explained how we all lived with our back porches almost touching and were in and out of each other's cabins day and night.
"'What about your love life?' he asked me. 'Do you have someone in Jean Ville you miss?'
"'No. I haven't…' I started to stutter, got hold of myself, and told him that I'd never had a boyfriend and had never been kissed by a guy. I looked at my plate and blushed with embarrassment. He sat back in his chair so hard it was as though he'd been punched in the gut with a cannon. Then he started to laugh and said, 'I don't want to sound like I don't believe you; but, really. I find it hard to…' His expression turned from mistrust to concern to sympathy, as though I'd missed out on something vital. Then he said, 'I mean, you're so beautiful.'
"I was embarrassed. I hung my head and dropped my chin to my chest. I heard his chair scrape the floor as he turned it towards me and said, 'You ready to go?' 'I asked, Do you mind?' I looked at him and felt hopeful, like we needed to get out of there, out of the public. I wanted some privacy. I said, ‘I mean the food is wonderful, so is the wine,' but he said, 'I'll have it packaged,' and he motioned to the waiter who silently took everything off the table and returned a few minutes later with a shopping bag. Donato paid the bill, and when we stepped outside the car was waiting. He handed the valet parker a wad of cash and opened the door, put his hand on the small of my back, and helped me into his sports car.
"We didn't talk as he drove towards Metairie. He turned down a narrow road near Jules Avenue, and before long, we were on the levee, watching tugboats push barges up and down the wide Mississippi River. He reached in the bag and pulled out the bottle of wine and two clear plastic glasses the waiter had packed. He handed me a glass and filled it, then filled his own. 'Here's to honesty,' he said, and tipped his glass against mine and took a sip. He never took his eyes off me. 'I'll go first,' he took another sip. 'I want to kiss you. I've never kissed someone who hasn't been kissed, so I guess I'll teach you how to kiss, you can teach me how slow to go.' He laughed and touched the side of my face.
"I said, 'Now? I mean, are you going to me kiss now?' I felt afraid and pressured. He started to laugh and said, 'This may be more difficult than I thought. First, you don't announce that there will be kissing. It just happens because you both want it to happen.' He was still laughing. I felt like I was twelve years old again, having feelings stirring inside but not knowing what to do with them.
"He took my hand and pulled it to his lips and kissed my palm. It sent chills up my arms to my neck, and I felt heat start on my chest and climb upward onto my face. Then he let go of my hand and got out of the car. At first, I just sat there and wondered what he was doing, then he opened the door on my side and reached for my hand. He pulled me out of the car, and I stood facing him. I could taste his breath and smell the starch in his dress shirt. He put his arms around me, over my shoulders, and when he pulled me to him, my arms went around his waist under his sports coat. At first, I gasped, then tried to relax. I could hear his heartbeat, tha-thump, tha-thump. He rested his face on the top of my head, and we stood there for a long time, wrapped in each other's arms. When I felt him lift his head off mine, I looked up, and my chin was under his. He bent his head and kissed me.
"'You're a natural,' he said, and whispered into my mouth. I felt his hardness against the lower part of my belly, and it frightened me. I pulled away and took a breath. 'I'm sorry,' he said. 'I can't help my reaction. I'm really attracted to you. I felt tears gather behind my eyelids because I remembered the only other time I'd felt a man's genitals press against me. I started to shake, and he pulled me close to him in a way that I couldn't feel his crotch. He pushed my head against his chest and stroked my hair with one hand. I was crying, I must have been heaving, because he tightened his grip and rubbed my back and said, 'It's okay. Whatever happened to you in the past is over. I'll protect you."'
"He pulled a handkerchief from his back pocket and handed it to me, but didn't release me when he said, 'We can take it as slow as you like. I'm in no hurry.'
"He helped me clean the mascara off my face, then we tried to get the spots off his shirt and laughed at the mess I'd caused. We got back in the car and finished our wine, talked about Susie and Rodney, and laughed a little." Marianne took a deep breath and sat back in her chair. She finally looked at me, and her expression said that she'd forgotten I was there.
"Susie said that's what Josh Ryan told her, 'We can take it slow, I'm in no hurry.' She said you can trust a man who has that kind of patience." I put my hand on Marianne's, and she smiled as though those words answered her questions about Dr. Warner.