Page 87 of The House on Prytania
Jolene said good-bye and stepped past us, closing the door behind her. Sunny looked at me with her laughing blue eyes. “She does know what she’s saying, right?”
I shrugged. “Who knows? I’ve tried to tell her, but it didn’t stick.”
With one last scratch behind Mardi’s ears, Sunny stood. “I’ll go find Sarah and see if she wants any help.”
“Good luck,” I said from my prone position, where Mardi had trapped me and was now butting my hand so that I’d pet him.
I eventually stood and went to my bedroom, then knelt next tomy bed so I could pull out the jeans I’d been wearing all week that might need washing. I found them beneath a long-sleeved shirt and sweater and turned out all the pockets. Frowning, I stared down at the cotton pocket linings that now resembled protruding tongues. I took their rudeness personally, sitting back on my heels to think.
My legs had gone numb from sitting in that position by the time I recalled giving the ribbon to Uncle Bernie, along with the yellow one Cooper and I had found in the yard. I wasn’t old enough for memory-loss issues, and I chalked my lapse up to the fact that I had had an extremely busy week and it was a miracle I remembered my own name.
I shoved the jeans back under the bed and stood to go tell Sunny that I didn’t have the purple ribbon. I’d made it to my door when my phone buzzed. I smiled when I saw that the text was from my dad. Wherever he was in the world, and even if he was on deadline, he called at least once a week. He said it was to hear my voice, but I had a feeling that he knew I needed to hear his just as much.
Good time to talk?
Like Melanie, Jack preferred to use the phone to talk instead of texting. But unlike my stepmother, he would actually text first to make sure it was a good time for me to chat instead of just calling out of the blue. He also was a proficient texter and could actually make it through an entire sentence with just one or two glaring typos.
I sent a thumbs-up emoji followed byIve got work but have 10 mins? Only takes 5 to get ready.
I laughed out loud at his response, and not just because of the content.Dont let jolene hear you say tit out loud.
I returned to my bed and flopped down on top of it before selecting my dad’s number in my favorites list. By the time I hung up, I’d forgotten all about the ribbon, and Uncle Bernie, and the fact that everyone who evaded the truth, including me, had a tell.
CHAPTER 29
Sarah and I watched as Jaxson struggled down the narrow stairs with Jolene’s two large suitcases and a garment bag. Jolene walked in front of him carrying a smaller case that she clutched to her chest possessively, not trusting anyone else to touch it.
“Is that jewelry?” Sarah asked.
“Even more valuable, sweetie. It’s my makeup and hair products.”
Sarah glanced at me to see if she should laugh, and I shook my head.
Jaxson had volunteered—without coercion, supposedly—to dog-sit Mardi and keep an eye on the apartment while we were gone. Jolene had put fresh sheets on her bed and dragged Mardi’s pallet onto the floor in her room even though Jaxson had insisted he’d just sleep on the couch since it was only one night. Carly was at a friend’s bachelorette weekend in Bermuda, so he was free to binge-watch whatever he wanted on TV and eat the refrigeratorful of meals and snacks that Jolene had made ahead of time.
Jolene popped open Bubba’s massive trunk to allow Jaxson to place her suitcases inside. “I thought you were just going for two days,” Jaxson said with a straight face. “Not a three-week cruise.”
“A girl has to be prepared for all weather—you know how unpredictable it can be on the coast this time of year. And I never know what kind of swimsuit to bring, depending on what sort of activities I will be participating in and if it’s warm enough. Plus, if mealtimes are formal or casual or both, I need to make sure I’m prepared.”
“Of course.” Jaxson reached for the two small duffel bags Sarah and I carried, and he gently tucked them in between Jolene’s baggage.
“Where’s the rest of your things?” Jolene asked.
“It’s only one night,” I said.
“I really hate to say this again, but bless your heart, Nola. And Sarah? Well, I’m here to help.” She looked us up and down, stopping at Sarah’s sneakers. “What size shoe do you wear?”
“A six. Sometimes a six and a half.”
“That should work. And I love your sweater and skirt.”
“Thanks. My mom bought me the whole outfit so I’d have something to wear in New Orleans besides my school uniform.”
“I figured your mama had something to do with it.” Jolene smiled until she turned to me, taking in my fleece jacket thrown over a white long-sleeved T-shirt.
“They’re clean,” I pointed out. “And I’m wearing the pants you made me buy when we went shopping. Besides, I don’t need to impress anyone.”
“Remember, Nola. We don’t dress nicely to impress people. We try to look good on the outside so we feel good on the inside. It’s about respecting others and yourself so that others see the most confident and dignified you that you can be. Right now, you’re dressed like you’re going to a dogfight. In the dark. And those Birkenstocks should be thrown on a bonfire. Wherever did you get those?”
