Page 134 of 12 Months of Mayhem

As we turn onto a side street, the full spectacle of New Orleans’ Halloween celebration comes into view. The kids press their faces against the windows, oohing and aahing at the sights. But Rex remains silent, his jaw clenched tight. I watch him out of the corner of my eye, noticing how his gaze keeps darting to the rearview mirror as if checking to see if we’re being followed.

“Daddy, look at that pirate!” Birdie squeals, pointing out the window at a man in an elaborate Captain Hook costume.

Rex grunts in acknowledgment. I frown, studying his profile. Something is definitely not right.

As we near Jackson Square, the crowds thicken, forcing Rex to slow the car to a crawl. The air is permeated with the scent of pralines and spiced rum, mingling with the ever-present hint of decay that permeates the Quarter. Normally, it’s a smell I love - it means home. But tonight, it just adds to the growing unease in my gut.

“Hey, kiddos,” I say, turning to face the backseat. “Why don’t you play a game? See who can spot the most witches before we get to the parade route.”

Beaux and Birdie eagerly agree, their excited conversation filling the car once more. With the kids distracted, I turn back to Rex.

“What happened when you went to the clubhouse today?”

“Nothing happened.” Rex’s eyes flick to me briefly before returning to the road. “Everything’s fine, Rem.”

But I know better. His shoulders are rigid, his grip on the steering wheel still tight.

“Don’t bullshit me, Rex,” I press again. “I know you better than that.”

He sighs, “Rem, please. Not now. Let’s just enjoy the parade. We can talk about it after the kids go to bed.”

I bite my lip. Rex’s evasiveness is only heightening my concern. But he’s right. Now isn’t the time, not with the kids in the backseat.

“Fine,” I concede.

We finally reach a spot near the parade route where we can park. As Rex cuts the engine, I turn to the kids with a forced smile. “Alright, monsters, who’s ready for some Halloween fun?”

Birdie and Beaux cheer, their excitement momentarily pushing aside my worries.

Rex slides from his spot, and goes to Birdie’s side of the car, immediately scooping her up and perching her on his broad shoulders. “Hold on tight, princess,” he warns, his eyes tracking his surroundings. Beaux slides from his seat and settles next to my side.

He might not want to discuss what’s happening with the kids present, but he’s doing a poor job of concealing his anxiety from me. Just seeing Rex anxious is enough to make me wary.

I take Beaux’s hand, squeezing it reassuringly. “Stay close, okay?” I tell him, and he nods solemnly, his plastic scythe clutched tightly in his other hand.

Chapter Four

Rex

The French Quarter is buzzing with energy tonight, that’s for sure. Partygoers in costumes fill the streets, dancing to the sounds of brass bands and the rumble of passing floats. I’m standing here, keeping an eye on Remy and the kids, but my thoughts are elsewhere. The Krewe of Boo parade is in full swing, but I’m struggling to focus after Meredith’s unexpected arrival earlier. It’s hard keeping this secret. Rem will find out as soon as we get home, but telling Birdie that her mother is in town is a whole different challenge.

Rem’s laugh snaps me back to reality. God, she’s beautiful. Those green eyes of hers are twinkling as she helps Beaux grab for some orange and black beads flying through the air. Birdie is squealing and snatching candies out of the air like it’s going out of style.

“Daddy! Look!” Birdie’s waving a fistful of candy in my face. I plaster on a smile, trying to shove down the threat from Meredith.

“That’s great, princess!” I call up to her, my voice straining to be heard over the noise of the parade. I feel a tug on my shirt and look down to see Beaux, his eyes wide with excitement.

“Can we go closer, Dad? I wanna see the zombies!” He points eagerly towards a group of elaborately made-up performers shambling down the street.

I glance at Remy, silently asking for her approval. She nods, a small smile playing on her lips, but I can see the tension in her shoulders.

“Alright, buddy,” I say. “Let’s go check out those zombies. Hold your mom’s hand, okay?”

As we make our way through the crowd, I can’t help but scan the faces around us. Is Meredith here somewhere, watching? The thought sends a chill down my spine. I adjust Birdie on my shoulders, holding her legs a little tighter. We push through the throng of revelers, inching closer to the parade route. Beaux tugs insistently on Remy’s hand, practically dragging her forward in his eagerness to see the zombies up close.

As we near the barricades, I feel Birdie stiffen on my shoulders. Her tiny fingers grip my hair tightly, and I hear a small whimper escape her lips.

“You okay up there, princess?” I ask, tilting my head back to try and catch a glimpse of her face.

---