Page 84 of The Shop on Royal Street
Strong invisible hands gripped my shoulders and shoved me backward, toppling me off the bottom step and sending me skidding into a wall. Goose bumps covered my skin, my teeth chattering as the temperature continued to plummet. I slowly backed toward the door, the sudden and powerful scent of hair spray—now recognizable to me—filling my nose. I realized that this was a battle I couldn’t win by myself. I needed reinforcements, but of the two people whom I knew could help, one lived in Charleston, and the other one I never wanted to see again.
CHAPTER 26
Jolene ended up staying away for a full week. She’d planned to come back on Thursday, but then a tropical depression blew into the Gulf. Since we were smack-dab—her term—in the middle of hurricane season, she thought she and Mardi would be safer in Mississippi than in New Orleans if the storm became a full-blown hurricane.
She invited me to come stay with her, too, but I declined, saying I was too new an employee at work to be asking for time off. Which was true. But there was also Michael. We saw each other every day, our relationship growing as we discovered we had many things in common, including a love for old houses, true-crime shows, running, and listening to jazz.
We’d even gone to Frenchmen Street one night. We hadn’t run into Beau, even though I looked for him. I wanted him to see me having a good time and in control. Part of me wanted him to see me with Michael, to show him that I wasn’t the lonely, confused girl whom he’d once known.
Michael had also taken me to an empty parking lot to help me practice my driving skills—or lack thereof—but as he’d already admitted, he was short on patience and I didn’t want his jaw to get locked inplace or his teeth to crack from clenching them, so we stopped after an hour. He promised that we could try it again if I asked, but I wasn’t in the habit of torturing people, so I hadn’t.
The torrential rain from the storm—which didn’t become a hurricane or even warrant a name—meant that any progress on my house had to be halted. It became clear that the roof could no longer be patched, as had been our hope to buy us more time—and allow me to find the money—and the entire roof needed to be replaced now instead of later. While I juggled estimates from roofing contractors, Thibaut and Jorge went to work on another JR Properties project until the roof was finished.
I missed seeing them each day, but the bonus was that I didn’t have to have any interactions with Beau Ryan. He’d at last stopped calling and texting me. I knew I’d have to ask him about Christopher’s text and its implications. And tell him that I’d been pushed from the steps by either a man or a woman—I was no longer sure which. If I didn’t want to wait until Melanie’s visit in October, I would have to talk to him at some point. But not right now. Because if I forced him to tell me that he had the ability to communicate with the dead, I would have to answer his own questions. Questions about things that weren’t any of his business, but that his insertion into my earlier life made him believe were.
If he did ask about my drinking, I would tell him that I was drinking again, but only socially. That despite his warnings, having a few drinks while out with friends didn’t constitute a backward step, at least not for me. I could stop when I wanted to. I was displaying a willpower that he hadn’t given me credit for or had simply overlooked. He also hadn’t taken into consideration that I was in a better place in my life now, with a new and exciting job, and I now owned a house that I was excited about restoring. It’s why I’d been avoiding him. Because I knew he would have an argument for everything and I was enjoying my new life too much to have him bring me down.
I was easily distracted from the whole Beau dilemma by Michael’s invitation to the annual fall soiree at the New Orleans Museum of Art fund-raiser at the Besthoff Sculpture Garden. It would be a night ofdining and dancing under the stars and oaks and guaranteed to be romantic.
Without Jolene, I wasn’t sure I could handle the hair and makeup, much less figure out what to wear. In desperation, I began practicing on the Barbie head, attempting to use all the same makeup products that Jolene had used on me. The result was a Ronald McDonald look-alike who had run into a sprinkler. In a final act of desperation, I FaceTimed Jolene.
I had the camera pointed at the Barbie head when I called, eliciting a small scream when she answered. I felt slightly justified after the horror she’d put me through when she’d left the head on the table.
“Help! I’m supposed to be going to a dinner and dance at the sculpture garden tomorrow night and I don’t have a clue.”
“I’d say this is an emergency situation. I’m coming first thing in the morning.”
“I’m not that helpless, Jolene.” I hoped I sounded sincere. “You don’t need to come back early on my account. I’m sure we can just FaceTime.”
“I need to come back anyway. Mama is about ready to get me out of her hair. They’re still doing all that excavating in the backyard for the pool and they think they’ve discovered a buried cemetery, so there’s all sorts of people halting the progress, and I think Mama’s going to pitch a real hissy fit and I’d rather not be here to witness it.”
“Wow—a cemetery. I can’t wait to hear more, but I really can’t say I blame your mother for being upset. But if you think you’re ready and your mother is okay with it...”
“I’m already packing as we talk. I’ve been making a little pile of things to bring back for you that I thought you might like to have. Do you have your own set of heat rollers?”
“What? Like, for asphalt?”
“Lordy, girl. Sometimes I wish you were joking but I know you’re not. I’m adding my old set to the pile. What about a clay mask?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about. Unless you’re talking about something that’s been excavated from your yard?”
“Never mind. I’m just bringing all of it. Don’t worry—help is on the way. I’ll leave first thing tomorrow morning, so I should get there by around noon. What time is Michael picking you up?”
“Six thirty. Will that be enough time?” I’d meant it sarcastically.
“Barely. I’ll text you with my ETA when I leave so you know when to draw your bath. I’ll add the bath salts and oil, so don’t try it on your own, okay?”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.”
She reached down and lifted up Mardi, making him wave his paw. He seemed to smile as if he recognized me. “Did anybody call yet?”
“Nope. And you never told me if he was chipped or not.”
Jolene buried her face in Mardi’s neck and I had the suspicion that she was hiding her face for a reason. “I forgot,” came her muffled answer.
“What? How could you forget?”
“I got distracted buying those cute bandannas and squeaky toys. And the doggie Halloween costumes were already out and it took me forever to choose one. I actually bought three, and I’ll let you pick. Or he can change outfits throughout the day. Plus he’ll need one for the Barkus parade....”
