Page 71 of The Attic on Queen Street
She nodded once.
“You put her on probation because of a game?” Jack sounded more annoyed than concerned.
“She was supposed to be working,” Beau said calmly. “There was a customer in the store wanting to ask someone about a Regency bow-fronted buffet table, but couldn’t find an employee because Nola was in the back room. I happened to enter the store as the customer was about to leave and ended up making a considerable sale.”
I studied Beau’s face, certain that Nola’s probation wasn’t about her playing a game in the back room while she was supposed to be working.
Nola looked up at Beau defiantly. “Alston has been listening to your podcast and she heard the caller from Savannah ask about playing with the Ouija board. She and Lindsey brought it to the store because I told them I was bored since there hadn’t been many customers. It’s just a stupid game. Besides, you made it very clear to the caller that you don’t believe in all that stuff.”
Beau’s face went rigid. “Whether I believe in it or not is irrelevant. You were on the clock. If you weren’t Amelia’s granddaughter, I would have fired you on the spot.”
“Did you... have any luck?” I asked casually, feeling Beau’s eyes on me. Nola knew I’d forbidden Ouija boards and why, so I tried very hard to keep my voice calm.
Nola shrugged. “I don’t think so. I’m pretty sure Alston was moving the planchette. It kept spelling out the name Adele.”
“Like the singer?” Jack asked.
“Yeah, spelled the same way. That’s how I knew it was Alston. She’s obsessed with Adele.”
“And what did you do with the game after Beau found you?”
Nola sent a glaring look in Beau’s direction. “He took it.”
I met Beau’s gaze. His face had noticeably paled; his lips were pressed together so tight, they’d gone white.
“Good,” I said. “I would have done the same thing.”
Nola sank a little lower on the bench. I stole another glance at Beau, whose color had begun to return, but his eyes looked wary.
Sarah began to fuss and I reached for her, but she clung to Beau. Instinctively, he patted her back and she placed her head on his shoulder, smiling again at someone standing behind him.
Nola’s phone beeped with a text. She quickly read it, then looked at Jack. She was silent for a moment as if considering whether or not to say anything, but another text beeped, and this time she gritted her teeth and drew in a breath as if for courage. Nola straightened, then swallowed. Turning to Jack, she said, “There’s a Mardi Gras party in a few weeks at the Bay Street Biergarten. Alston and Lindsey are going as well as a lot of other friends from school. Can I go, please? I promise to be back by curfew.”
“I don’t think being on probation at your job is something I want to reward. Plus you’re all underage.”
“Dad!” Nola protested. “My friends are all going and they serve other things besides beer. I’ll be the only one not there and I’ll have to hear about it for a month.”
“Sorry, Nola. It’s a definite no from me.”
She looked at me, hoping for a second opinion.
“I have to agree with your dad, Nola.” I smiled. “Staying home can be just as fun. I’ll make popcorn, and then we can watch Hallmark mysteries on TV. Or silly dog videos on YouTube.”
“Oh, boy,” Nola said, crossing her arms. “Sounds like a lot more fun than a party.”
“I know, right? And maybe your dad would like to join us.”
Jack looked at me over Nola’s head, his eyes sparkling. “Count me in.”
“A lot of my classmates are talking about going,” Beau said. “It supposedly gets pretty wild. It’s definitely an older crowd.”
Nola glared at him.
“Even more reason for you not to go,” Jack said. “You’re still in high school and should definitely not be going to college parties.”
Beau shrugged, but I sensed he was enjoying torturing Nola. “I’m only going because Mardi Gras reminds me of home. I usually ride in the Bacchus parade, but I’m having to miss it this year.”
“Isn’t Bacchus the god of wine and fertility?” Jack asked, sounding more accusing than curious.
