Page 57 of Our Lips Are Sealed
Cohen got to his feet, placing himself between Jamison and Nick. He offered the man his hand, and as they shook, Samuel’s gaze met Evie’s while they silently shared a laugh over Cohen’s protectiveness. Whatever happened between them last night remained a mystery, but Evie meant to get to the bottom of it. They had a long ride ahead of them once they left Judy, and she planned on annoying her sister until she spilled the details.
“It’s very nice to meet you all.” Nick removed his jacket and sat at the kitchen table next to Cohen. “Fill me in on what I’ve missed.”
Jamison touched over their highlights, with Judy proudly adding some of the things she’d learned.
“Oh, and Evie was recently hired by my dad’s company also,” Jamison said after telling them her plans to move to Texas. “She’s an amazing accountant.”
“That comes from me.” Judy wiggled with pride at the connection. “I’m a whiz with numbers.”
Evie smiled. “Well, the trait skipped Mama. When we were homeschooled, I remember how she would cry if she got stuck teaching the math lesson for the day.”
“I would cry teaching a bunch of kids math, too,” Nick said, turning out to be much friendlier than his appearance gave off. “But I know what you mean. Laura Jean could never handle math or following directions.”
Jamison raised her hand. “I inherited the directionally challenged thing. I can get lost in my own house.”
A deep chuckle came from Samuel. “I once took Jamison to a Falcons game where we had a centennial suite, and she got lost looking for the bathroom. The sad part is, the bathroom is actuallyinthe suite, yet she somehow managed to lock herself in a coat closet.”
The room laughed at Jamison’s expense, and Nick honed in on the football reference, striking up a conversation about the previous year’s Super Bowl with the men while the women continued to look at the albums.
“This is my mother, Evangeline Gauthier,” Judy said, opening another book. “It’s no surprise Laura Jean named her firstborn after her. Your mama was very close to her grand-mère.”
The black and white photo showed a beautiful woman with a head full of dark curls. She had big wide eyes and plump lips that curved into a smile at their corners. There was something exotic to her facial features, a mixture of ethnicities Evie couldn’t quite put her finger on.
“She looks like she has a secret,” Evie remarked absently.
Judy nodded. “Mémère knew many things. She was a traiteuse.”
“What’s that?” Jamison asked.
“It’s like a healer.” Judy turned the page. “But she could do more than that. She saw things you weren’t supposed to see.”
Enthralled, Jamison shifted closer. “Like what?”
Judy tapped at another picture of Evangeline Gauthier. In this one, she posed with a handsome man who looked down on her with love in his eyes. “Mémère described it as nightmares chasing her into the day. She would wake, all distraught, claiming to have seen people who had passed on in her dreams,” Judy said. “And it’s interesting that you would say she looks like she knows a secret, because that’s how she described it. Mémère claimed she was collecting the dead’s secrets to keep safe.”
“Evie has strange dreams sometimes,” Jamison blurted out.
“No, I don’t,” Evie denied, not wanting to discuss this in front of what was technically a stranger. “I just have nightmares about when Mama died. It’s not a big deal.”
Judy tilted her head. “Does anyone speak to you directly in the dream?” she asked. “In a way that’s different from the original memory?”
Good evening, Queen Evie.
Livy.
It was always Livy.
Most times, she could remember the dream’s dance that brought her to Livy, where the two of them would sit and talk on the ballroom floor. What they spoke of never traveled with her into waking, but the comfort left over from the conversation always did.
Then there was her mother, and the dream she had appeared in just the other night. It wasn’t a memory exactly, but the way Laura Jean spoke had been so real.
“Yes,” Evie replied. “It does happen from time to time.”
Judy closed the book, her face serious. “I know you might think I’m some old couyon, and I might just be, but you need to listen now,” she whispered so the men wouldn’t hear. “The good and the bad come through us while we sleep, so you need to protect yourself. Put Laura Jean’s image up in your bedroom, and make sure you keep rosemary at the front door, dill at the back, and lavender under the windows. Oh, and if you can, throw some haint blue paint around your entryways, windows, or better yet, on the roof of your home’s entrance. The blue confuses the spirits. They think it’s water, which they can’t cross.”
Evie fought not to roll her eyes. Their mother had believed in this nonsense, too. As a kid it had been fun, but she didn’t think Samuel would appreciate her planting a bunch of bushes around his house or painting the awnings blue.
“Haven’s porch roof is already blue,” Jamison replied. “Simone has it painted every other year. I always thought it was weird and when I asked her about it, she told me it was for luck.”
