Page 36 of The Shop on Royal Street
He drained the rest of his beer. “We should go—tonight. Snug Harbor is a favorite of mine. So is the Spotted Cat. Actually, they’re all good. All of the music venues post their schedules up in their windows, so you can club crawl and hit the acts you want to hear.”
“I love the Spotted Cat!” Jolene said from the doorway into the kitchen. I was hoping she hadn’t heard our entire conversation. “The live jazz is amazing. We should definitely go tonight, introduce Nola to the music scene in the Marigny—especially since it’s in her new neighborhood.”
Jaxson and Jolene looked at me hopefully as Jolene put her arm around me. “It will help you relax after your driving lesson. I think you probably need it.”
Jolene gave me a squeeze, then began leading Jaxson and me through the kitchen and into the dining room, where a lovely low vase of flowers sat as a centerpiece and the casserole and salad, all beautifully garnished and placed in elegant serving pieces, had been added to the table.
“Y’all have a seat. If you want something other than water, I’ll go pour you something. Otherwise, that’s bottled water in your glasses, so no need to worry. There’s another boil-water advisory right now.”
We all sat, and both Jolene and Jaxson placed their napkins in their laps, which reminded me to do the same. Contrary to what Melanie was constantly warning JJ and Sarah, eating cookies before dinner did not spoil my appetite. The “vegan” casserole was amazing, and the salad with the peeled tomatoes and Jolene’s homemade dressing tasted like no salad I’d ever had before. Jaxson wondered out loud if it might be the peeled tomatoes that made it so delicious. He accepted two helpings of casserole and salad yet still had room for dessert.
Jaxson insisted on clearing the table while Jolene retrieved the lemon bars and cookies. Wanting to be fair, I took one of each, as did Jaxson, while Jolene helped herself to a small lemon bar. “I’d eat another, but I’m full as a tick and about to pop.”
I was, too, but I wasn’t going to let that stop me. It was alarming how quickly I’d thrown off the spartan lifestyle I’d brought with me from California to South Carolina. Excess saturated the air in New Orleans, along with the ever-present moisture and the odd mixture of scents that rose from the hot streets, steamed out of kitchen windows, and blew across the city from the Mississippi River. I equated it with the now-familiar scent of Charleston, the signature smell of the rotting vegetation known locally as pluff mud that provided sustenance to the Lowcountry marshes. It made a person either wrinkle their nose or deeply breathe in the magical scent of home. I had been in New Orleans for only a short time, but I had begun doing the latter, recognizing now the pervading perfume of my adopted city. The scent not quite of home but of a newly discovered favorite aunt.
Jaxson wiped his mouth and stood. “Is everyone ready?”
Jolene jumped up. “Absolutely.” I wasn’t sure if her excitement was about listening to live jazz or the prospect of spending the evening with Jaxson. “I’ll drive.”
“No,” Jaxson and I said together.
“I mean, because your car is so big, which makes it harder to find parking,” Jaxson said while I nodded.
We found street parking not far from my house on Dauphine and walked through the neighborhood streets toward Frenchmen. I wasalready enjoying the quiet neighborhood feel of the Marigny, far enough away from the craziness of the French Quarter and the more touristy sections of the city, but at the center of the live music scene that was at the core of the city’s soul.
The night air, although still warm and humid, felt nice on the skin without the blazing heat of the sun. Although I still had the stresses of the whole driving-and-work scenario, as well as the renovation, which was moving at the speed of a herd of turtles (Jolene’s words), I felt almost relaxed for the first time in a very long while. I hadn’t gone out at night at all since arriving in New Orleans, afraid to admit that I might not be ready. But I was ready now, reminding myself that I was in control.
Jaxson said, “Since we don’t have tickets, we’ll be in the standing-room area of general admission. Unless my friend Buzz is there. He’ll probably want to find us a spot in reserved seating if there is any.”
“Buzz?” Jolene asked.
“An old client of mine. He’s so grateful for my services that he makes sure I never pay for my drinks.” He grinned.
The night got louder as we approached Frenchmen Street, with the sounds of brass instruments and people laughing forming their own chorus spilling out of the various doors along the street. Music fans carrying plastic go-cups milled up and down the street, and lines formed outside of clubs as patrons waited to be admitted.
We approached the Spotted Cat Music Club, where a large crowd waited to be let inside. Jaxson excused himself to find Buzz while Jolene and I stood at the back of the line. I felt a surge of excitement as I remembered going to various gigs at similar clubs in LA with my mom when her love for music was greater than her need to drown her sorrows in whatever substance she could find. Some of my happiest childhood memories were of my mother’s face when she performed. I remembered those times now as the only times I’d ever seen her truly happy.
“The last time I was here I heard the Cottonmouth Kings,” Jolene gushed. “Oh, my word—I was transported. I love that they haven’tgone all commercial and still play some pretty obscure tunes. They rely on the talents of each member, so they don’t just amplify the sound like so many other groups do. It’s like shouting at someone who doesn’t speak your language, you know?”
As she spoke, I casually gazed over the crowd, taking in the eclectic outfits and the diverse nature of the people brought together by music. My gaze passed over a couple at the front of the line, then slid back as I thought I recognized the man. “Is that...?”
I stopped as Beau Ryan turned his head to the woman standing next to him, then brought her closer for an intimate and lingering kiss.
“Is that who?” Jolene asked, her petite stature making it difficult for her to see anything except for the floral shirt of the man standing in front of her.
I couldn’t explain my reaction at seeing Beau kissing someone. There was no reason at all why I shouldn’t call out his name and wave, then say hello and meet the woman I assumed was his date. Or maybe even his girlfriend. I’d never asked him if he had a girlfriend because it shouldn’t have mattered to me. We were business partners and nothing more. I wasn’t even sure if I liked him. The sight of him in a romantic embrace shouldn’t have bothered me at all. Except that it did.
Grabbing Jolene’s arm, I pulled her out of the line. “I’m so sorry, but I don’t think I can do it.”
“Is it because everyone’s drinking?” Jolene asked with a sympathetic expression.
“Yes. It’s too soon.” I hated using my illness as an excuse, but I had to get away before Beau saw us.
Jolene and I ran into Jaxson as I led her away from the line. “I got three reserved seats,” he said, his smile transforming into a frown as he looked closely at me. “Is everything all right?”
Jolene shook her head. “Nola isn’t feeling well and we need to get her home.”
“Sure. Hang on—let me give these tickets away.”
