Page 37 of The Shop on Royal Street
I let out a sigh of relief as he handed them to three people at the back of the line before returning to us and leading us back to the car.
“I’m so sorry,” I said during the car ride, feeling horrible and guilty, yet unexplainably happy that I hadn’t been forced to speak to Beau.
“No problem. We’ll do it again, all right?”
“Sure,” I said, turning my face to look out the side window just as we reached my house. We’d almost passed it when I realized I’d seen a man smoking a pipe on my front porch, his head turned in our direction. When it registered that the house was supposed to be vacant, I looked back. But all I could see was the empty front porch and the wind chime swinging violently in the still night air.
CHAPTER 12
For the first time since buying my house, I considered heading directly to the apartment on Broadway after work. I told myself it was because there was nothing I could do at the house until it had been rewired and the plumbing replaced, but I knew it had more to do with not wanting to run into Beau. I had thought of nothing else since the night before on Frenchmen Street. How was I supposed to act when I saw him again? And what should I say?
I eventually talked myself into going to the house, wanting to get facing him over with before the long drive to and from St. Francisville on Monday. Besides, Jolene had left labeled, bagged, and beribboned cookies to take to Thibaut (just in case he decided to accept the job) and Jorge (because it would be rude not to include him) and Trevor (just because). She’d also left a bag of cookies and Hershey’s Kisses for me (for being a friend and great roommate), which I’d eaten at my desk for lunch while doing the prerequisite online research prior to my site visit on Monday. I’d felt sick afterward, which at least took my thoughts off of Beau.
Beau had called several times that morning before resorting to texts to let me know that Thibaut had accepted the job working for JRProperties and been assigned solely to my project. I hadn’t felt ready to talk with Beau yet without asking him questions that were none of my business. Questions to which I wasn’t even sure why I wanted to know the answers. It was embarrassing and confusing and I didn’t have time to examine my feelings. Like I’d taken a page out of Melanie’s playbook, I sent Beau a text saying I couldn’t talk, telling myself I’d think about my reasons later.
When I met Trevor at our preappointed spot at the corner of Royal and Canal for the bike handover, I noticed the bike now sported a large wicker basket with plastic flowers wired to the front. It reminded me of the bike baskets my school friends had had when I was growing up. I’d been more envious of the baskets than of the bikes, but as my mother had pointed out, I didn’t need a basket since we couldn’t afford a bike. My little half sister, Sarah, had one and she let me put my phone in it when I took her and JJ for a bike ride around the neighborhood.
“Where’d that come from?” I asked, pointing at the basket.
“I traded it for a bag of box tops with a lady at the Laundromat. I put it on your bike, figuring you needed somewhere to put your stuff.”
I smiled. “That was really thoughtful of you.” I carefully placed the bags of cookies in the basket before handing Trevor the bag with his name on it. “This is from Jolene. Next time she comes with me, you can thank her in person.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He grinned when he spotted the handful of chocolate kisses inside the bag.
“Don’t forget you’re supposed to share with your grandmother and siblings. That’s why you get the biggest bag.”
He shuffled his feet, his smile fading. “Yes, ma’am.” He tilted his head, looking up at me with big brown eyes. “But if Meemaw says I can have hers, I’m allowed, right?”
“Yes, Trevor. But she needs to say so first, before you ask.”
Trevor stared at me. “You got psychic powers or somethin’, Miss Nola?”
“No. But I do have a little brother about your age, so I’m familiar with how you think.” I reached into my backpack and pulled out a ten-dollar bill and handed it to him.
His eyes widened. “I was only gonna charge you five,” he said as he quickly took the bill.
“And I thought it was a gift!”
“It is. That’s why I wasn’t gonna charge you twenty.”
I was still laughing as I pedaled down Royal Street, my new basket proudly adorning the front of my bike. After I carefully crossed the divided highway of Esplanade Avenue and began passing the brightly painted cottages of the Marigny, I felt a swell of pride. Not just because this wasmyneighborhood, but also because I had made it this far in my journey.
When I reached my house, I spotted Jorge’s and Thibaut’s trucks at the curb, as well as a black Mercedes SUV I didn’t recognize. The absence of Beau’s truck sent through me an alarming amount of relief that I didn’t pause to examine.
I carried my bike up the porch steps and then into the front room. Until the house began to resemble a habitable home, it was easier to bring my bike inside than lock it up outside. The house was eerily quiet, with no sounds of men working upstairs and the wind chime on the porch unusually silent. I imagined I smelled the faint scent of pipe tobacco, reminding me of what I’d thought I’d seen on the porch the previous evening.
Ignoring the goose bumps that erupted on my arms at the memory, I walked through to the kitchen. A large and well-used toolbox sat on the floor, a claw hammer lying next to it, both covered in plaster dust. I stepped over the toolbox and peered out the filthy window into the backyard. Bits and pieces of woodwork in various stages of sanding and staining lay scattered on a tarp like wreckage from some horrible accident scene. Which was probably more accurate than I wanted to consider.
I abruptly turned, nearly running into Christopher, who was wearing a long, dark raincoat even though it wasn’t raining. My hand flew to my mouth, muffling my scream. “You startled me.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sneak up on you. I have a habit of walking quietly—most likely from working in an antiques store.”
I wasn’t sure that made any sense, but I had pressing questions. “It’s good to see you, but why are you here? Did I forget something?”
“Not at all. Mimi asked me to stop by and see how things were coming along.”
“She could have just asked Beau. He was here earlier.”
