Page 7 of My Favorite Mistake

Scott stood from the stool and pocketed his phone. “Yep.” He and Brennan shared a quick, firm handshake before Scott followed Connor out of the bar.

The two men took a cab to the Canal Street ferry terminal, and once on board, they leaned against the railing, wind whipping their faces and watched the low, orange glow of the lights on Algiers Point grow larger as they churned their way across the Mississippi. Once on dry land, they walked toward the neighborhood, and Connor periodically glanced behind him to take in the view of the Crescent City Connection, its white lights glimmering as it stretched across the river, and the rainbow of up-lighting gleaming from the French Quarter and casting the darkened horizon with a pink-purple-green hue.

Sea breeze blasted Connor’s face, almost chilly by comparison from the sweltering heat of the day, and he sucked in a sated breath. “Maa-aan…”He smacked Scott’s shoulder, nearly knocking his phone out of his hand.“It is good to live where we do.”

Scott looked up from his phone and nodded as they rounded a corner onto their street. “Hell yeah.”

The oaks and crepe myrtles and wisterias bowed and beckoned as Scott and Connor casually plodded toward the two shotgun houses at the far end of the street.

“So when you and your new brand manager approach Oscar, I want you to keep me updated,” Scott said. “If in six months he’s a national sensation and I haven’t done a piece on him, my editor’s going to have me by the balls.”

“You know I will.” Connor pulled off his ball cap and let the breeze cool his damp brow. The houses grew larger as the men approached, and Ophelia’s form on the lawn came into view. She held a garden hose, spraying the rose bushes that flanked the porch of one house, one hand on her hip and whistlingLa Vie en Rose.

A grin tugged at Scott’s face and he picked up his pace as he wolf-whistled. “Hey, little mama!”

She glanced up at them as she smiled and waved. “Hey, baby. Your other baby is requesting a bedtime story.”

Scott chuckled. “It’s a bit past her bedtime.”

Approaching his wife, Scott picked her up with one arm wrapped around her waist and kissed her long and deep. Connor glanced behind him, averting his gaze to not only give the married couple privacy, but also to avoid letting his eyes land on a particular stretch of grass that separated their houses.

“Hey, Connor,” Ophelia said as he approached their lawn. She held out her arm, welcoming him in for a hug. He returned the hug and planted a kiss on her cheek that wasn’t marred by a scar, the remnant of a wicked storm she and Scott had survived in college, long before either of them had ended up in New Orleans.

“How you doin’, Ophelia?” He gave her back a pat before she stepped away to turn off the hose.

“Just fine.” She smiled at him. “If you’ve got a minute, I’ve got some red beans and rice that I wrapped up for you.”

He uttered an audible groan of delight. “I’ve got a minute.” Since Connor lived alone, Ophelia had a tendency to feed him often, and he happily accepted, as it kept him from living on take-out po-boys.

She slipped into the house and Scott meandered to the porch, checking the railing by rubbing his thumb across the old wood. “I think I need to repaint this,” he said, seemingly to himself, before glancing at Connor. “You busy on Saturday morning?”

“Nah, I’ll help you after my run.” Connor tapped his toe on the edge of the concrete driveway, and then gestured at a patch of turned-over dirt. “Is Ophelia planning to plant something here? I can help with that, too.”

“I am, and I would appreciate that,” she said, emerging from the house with a small, covered casserole dish. “And I hope you’re planning to run before the sun comes up. It’s supposed to get to the upper 80s, and the humidity’s going to be around 60 percent.”

Connor took the dish. “I always run before the sun comes up.”

“I meanfinishingbefore the sun comes up.” She stood with her hands on her hips. “We don’t need you passing out on the lawn again.” She clutched her tank top at her slender chest. “You scared the life out of me that day. The humidity is going to kill you if you’re not careful.”

Connor kicked the dirt as he shoved his free hand in his pocket. The not-so-small incident a few weeks ago was a good reminder to hydrate as he drank and keep his intake at a one-to-one ratio of alcohol and water. Especially running in the humidity as much as he did. “I will,” he assured her. “I’ll make sure I’m back here by seven.”

She patted his forearm before reaching for Scott’s waist and tugging him toward the front door. “See that you do. Eat up and get good sleep.”

He waved at them. “Thanks. See y’all tomorrow.”

“Keep me posted on the new marketing guy,” Scott added as he climbed the steps.

“Will do.”

The married couple disappeared through the screen door, and Connor made his way down the driveway, opting to cross through the street so he could avoid the stretch of grass, but—as usual—it did little to keep his mind from replaying the scene that went down about ten years prior.

Morales seizing. His skin cold. His face a sickening blue. Connor incoherently hollering for back-up as if they were both still in the sandbox. Scott and Ophelia, strangers at the time, appearing from out of nowhere. Her holding Connor back by his shoulders while he howled. Scott frantically doing what he could while barking information at the 911 dispatcher.

Connor squeezed his eyes shut, shaking his head and looking in the opposite direction, wishing for x-ray vision to look through the houses on the opposite side of the street so he could take in the view of the Quarter.

So fucking weak, his mind lambasted him.You weak little bitch.

Making a wide circle, Connor jogged up the steps and strode into the house. He set the casserole dish on the kitchen counter and then hit play on an old iPod connected to a set of small speakers. The Rebirth Brass Band and Kermit Ruffins sang about a Mardi Gras day as Connor retrieved the whiskey from the corner of the counter. He filled a tumbler with five fingers and then filled a tall glass with water.

---