by Lynn Shurr
“What, no team meeting in the den with all of us swarming around to get on your case? Don’t tell me you and Connor Bullock are getting engaged! I saw the way he looked at you at the graduation party.” Lorena released the famous Billodeaux smile, the one inherited from her daddy and just as effective on a woman.
Cleaning up Mack’s dishes at the sink, Corazon sucked hard against her teeth and placed a soapy hand over her heart. “My Junior will be so, so de-vast-stated. He loves you, Xochi.”
Knox Polk sidled toward the doorway. “If things are getting girly, I’ll go back to work. Those ponies need a break and a good rubdown.” Xochi had never seen their guardian flee from anything before, but evidently mushy emotions were his weakness. He left as fast as a cottonmouth could strike.
“I’m not engaged to anyone, and I’ve only seen Connor twice, though he does text me now and then. No, I’m planning to move back to Chapelle, but I want to discuss arrangements with the parents.”
Corazon exhaled. “Your room is always ready here from the first day you arrived as a scared child with bad dreams.”
“I know. There’s more I need to tell them.”
“Junior, he don’t get you pregnant, no? ’Cause he marry you right away.”
Only if people got pregnant from kissing. Xochi waved her hands to erase both thoughts. “No, no, no. He’s a perfect gentleman, remember?”
A deep voice sounded from the doorway. “Good, because I’d have to shoot him if he did.” Daddy Joe to the rescue.
Petite Mama Nell was there, too, obscured by his size. She ducked under his arm to enter the kitchen and took charge as usual. “Now is as good a time as any as any to talk. It’s free time for the campers and a lot of them rest. I need to do the same, but first, come into the den and tell us what you have to say.” Nell grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and broke off a piece of pig’s ear in passing. Joe scooped up the rest of it in a napkin and led the way.
The couple settled side-by-side on the long, brown leather sofa and waited. Like good parents everywhere, they excelled at listening. Add in that Nell had a degree in psychology and could wait endlessly for the words to come out. Xochi chose hers carefully. “Both of you know how I’ve benefited from Rosemarie Leleux’s aid over the years. She helped me understand my auras, that they could be a gift and not a curse. Her gris-gris bag still lets me sleep at night. I want to follow in her footsteps and study to be a traiteur.”
Mama Nell’s doe brown eyes grew even larger. Usually she perceived what bothered her children, but obviously hadn’t seen this one coming. While she sat stunned like a deer in the headlights, Daddy Joe questioned first. “Are you sure you don’t want to be a nurse like the twins, or a doctor like Connor Bullock? We are good for the tuition if you do.”
Xochi shook her head hard enough to set her curls flying. “I was afraid that’s what you’d say. Please don’t tell Jude and Annie yet. They’d both think I’m crazy. This won’t cost you anything. I’ll still be continuing my translating service, probably online because I need to work with Nestor Leleux here in Chapelle.”
“We’d love to have you home again doing whatever you feel you must.” Mama Nell bounced back fast.
Well, that’s the thing. Miss Rosemarie says I need to stay with Nestor to learn all he knows.”
Daddy Joe exploded. “Live with Nestor Leleux! I mean he’s a great hunting and fishing guide, but a real curmudgeon. I been to his house, me. Nuttin’ but a shack on the edge of da swamp. Why not in town with Rosemarie?”
Nell patted her husband’s hand. “Now, now, settle down. Your Cajun comes out when you get excited. Yes, why not Rosemarie?”
“Because the lore must be handed down by someone of the opposite sex she tells me.”
“Now that is crazy. You stay here and commute to his place. We’ll get you a car. No daughter of mine is going to…” Joe’s hands flailed in the air, another sign of agitation.
Xochi reached out and stilled them. “I love you both so much, but this is something I need to do. So, no team meeting and no objections. I am way over twenty-one, and have lived in a city far more dangerous than the edge of the swamp. I will be fine.” Rosemarie claimed she had the power to soothe troubled minds. Her hands did feel warm against his though the house was well cooled. With one thumb on his wrist, she felt the pulse of the man who had promised her a home and kept that promise go steady.
“Please don’t tell the rest of the family yet. Give me a little time to get things set up and break it to them in the right way.” Xochi got their nods if not a verbal promise.
“You’ll still need a car, but something safer than Dean’s Mustang. We expect you to come home often so we know you are all right. We’ll start working on getting one for you.”
“I will be fine.” Xo kissed them both on the cheek.
A rattle of glasses on a tray disrupted the moment. “I bring you iced tea and the rest of the cookies.” Corazon set the tray down carefully on the coffee table. Tears ran down her cheeks and followed the furrows to drip off her chin. “My Xochitl is going to be a curandera, and that is a wonderful thing.”
At least one person beside Miss Rosemarie was happy for her. But what about Junior—and Connor Bullock?
Chapter Thirteen
Xochi returned to the city content with her decision and relieved that on the edge of a swamp the chances of seeing dark men would be as rare as a snowfall. Hands full, she ran up the stairs to the apartment to tell Junior before the news leaked from the family grapevine. Hoping they could talk over a cup of his excellent coffee and the sack of fresh pig ear pastries she’d brought along, she also toted his mother’s cheese enchilada casserole.
“Junior, I’m home.” Xo entered the living room. Silence weighty as a medicine ball dropped on her. Of course, he had mini-camp this week. Mack had taken off for his in the white Porsche he’d bought with his bonus money yesterday afternoon while she’d stayed to help Lorena at the pool.
Xo carried the casserole into the kitchen and considered trying to finesse a cup of coffee out of Junior’s complicated machine. Her old office coffeemaker sat in its place, the first hint that he’d gone. A note in his big, loopy handwriting sat anchored by a saltshaker shaped like a cluster of grapes on the table.
Dearest Xochi,
My lease was approved, and I had my bedroom furniture delivered Saturday. I kept the coffee machine since I can’t survive without a good cup in the morning, and I didn’t think you’d use it anyhow. Kiki’s screen is yours, my gift to another beautiful blossom. I’ll be staying out at the training camp all week with the other rookies. The Sinners want us to bond as well as sweat. If you need anything, Tom and Alix are right across the street. They only tag in at camp when the return team practices. I told them about the dark men. Keep safe, my lovely, while I am gone.
Junior
P.S. Feel free to visit whenever you want real coffee
As If she needed to confirm the note, she dragged her overnight bag upstairs and opened the door to his room. Another note on the pillows read:
I stripped the linens and put on fresh. The ones I washed are in the closet.
Jr.
Xochi put her cosmetics away in the bathroom and missed the sight of his shaving kit sitting on the counter tucked away from the mess she usually left. She sniffed. Gone, the scent of his lime aftershave that hung in the moist air when he’d showered. Ridiculous to miss him so much when they’d only lived together for a few weeks and shared just two kisses. Especially, when she was about to leave him behind in New Orleans.
Oh well, that enchilada casserole would serve her for four meals without Junior around, and she could have pig’s ears for breakfast the next few days. In fact, lunchtime approached, and she could eat one now. Xochi returned to the kitchen, scooped out some of the casserole and poured iced tea from the container in the refrigerator. Her phone rang as she settled in to eat. Rachelle checking in. If she’d been working, she would have let it go to voice mail, bu
t right now a little company might be good.
“Hey, girl, I’m between graveyard tours and my shift at the voodoo shop. Where you been? I missed you at Paco’s Friday night. Everyone did. Juan was so happy to have you back, and this suave guy with a little mustache wanted to know where you’d gone. I said how the hell did I know, probably home to help out with that Love Letter camp business. I’m not your babysitter. Still, it would have been nice to get a heads up if you weren’t coming.”
“Sorry, I did go home to take care of some business. I have so much on my mind right now.”
“Like which gorgeous guy to take up with next? I’m thinking Junior has the edge since he’s right under your nose, and the doc probably has to work a lot. Under your nose.” Rachelle voiced a salacious little laugh into the phone. “With a guy as big as Junior, you most likely have to be on top to avoid getting crushed. Tell me, is he that big all over if you know what I mean?”
Xochi shook her head against the phone even though Rachelle couldn’t see her. “I’m not going to discuss it. He’s moved out.”
“If you broke up, tell him I’m still available. We had a great time that evening we spent together, really hit it off. Basically, I think I’m more fun than you are.”
“Maybe.” She didn’t possess the cattiness to tell Rachelle that Junior felt sorry for her.
“So, we on for Paco’s sometime this weekend?”
“I’m tired of Paco’s. Let’s go to Tipitina’s for a change.”
“They having Free Fridays yet, because you know it costs? Paco’s has no cover charge.”
“My treat.”
“Great! Madame Laveau—as if—is giving me the evil eye. Good thing she’s a fake. Got to go. Let me know day and time and if the two hunks are coming along as soon as you can. Yeah, yeah, I see the customers waiting to buy black candles. Bye.”
Xochi finished her lunch. She should go out and walk it off even though the afternoon sun turned the sidewalks into frying pans, but couldn’t make herself do it without Junior’s company. It seemed silly to disturb Tom and Alix who would tell her she was crazy to walk in this heat even though they worked out in high temps fairly often.
She’d strolled to Dean’s house early the day she left for Chapelle and not noticed anyone following her. But if Rachelle had suggested she might go home, the man with the thin mustache could have had the two most likely routes watched for her passing. Damn him for taking the pleasure out of driving the Mustang and making her feel hunted.
Glad Dean had driven her back to the apartment when she returned the car in perfect condition, no thanks to her tailgaters, Xo made the decision to stay in the rest of the day with all the bolts Daddy Joe installed locked into place. Tomorrow, she’d resume her normal routine and break the news to her customers about leaving town. Let the dark men try to find her in the Atchafalaya Basin.
****
Right, the usual routine. Xochi donned her Anchi Services dress accented with the pink, purple and silver scarf from the Riverwalk shopping spree, stocked the hot pink handbag for the day’s activities, and tried to step outside with confidence before the temperature ramped up. She decided against day-old pig’s ears and fell into her old habit of getting a latte and croissant at the coffeehouse across the street. Business slowed down in the summer with people taking vacations to the beach or mountains to escape the traffic and the heat, but she still had plenty of company crossing broad Canal Street, getting stuck halfway at the streetcar stop when the light turned red. She stayed in the middle of the pack when the pedestrians surged to the other side on a green light and got in line at the coffee shop, always busy at this hour.
The handsome enough barista who played bass guitar in a yet to be discovered band on weekends greeted her like a long-lost love. “Xochi, my only customer with that name, where have you been?” he asked as he inked her name on a cup and mixed a latte forming a foam heart on top, first time ever, without asking for her order. “We thought you’d sold us out for Starbucks.” He bagged her usual almond croissant.
Was she so predictable? She’d gone to hear him play a few times and knew he had the attitude and the tats to succeed, but she’d turned down his advances. As he threw in an extra chocolate chunk cookie without charging her, he evidently still had hope—about to be dashed. No sense in giving him the whole story. She kept it short. “No Starbucks for me. I’ll be moving home in a few weeks. I went back there to make arrangements.”
“Aw, babe, you break my heart. You’re my favorite customer.”
“I thought I was,” said an elderly lady next in line.
“In your age group, you are, Miss Lily.”
“Bye, Edward,” never Ed but sometimes Eddie, he’d told her. Xochi slipped a couple of dollars in the tip jar to cover the cost of the cookie and turned to leave. She saw them immediately outside the window partly steamed with morning humidity. One, a husky thug robed in a black aura she’d seen before in Jackson Square, blocked the doorway as if he considered entering. The man with the thin mustache leaned against the wall next to him and smoked his cigarillo in a gold holder. The glint of it in the morning sun caused a frisson of fear to run down her spine like perspiration. The cup in her hand shook so fiercely the lovely heart of foam broke into pieces.
The last time she’d seen a holder like that it rested in the mouth of Esteban Miro, the drug lord her natural father had cheated. Again, she was that five-year-old child hiding among the giant clay pots and chimineas their neighbor sold to tourists as Miro’s minions executed her Papi and shot her beautiful, young mama in the chest. Miro passed that golden holder with a burning cigarette as if it were an Olympic torch to another of his men who entered her small home. Smoke came out the windows opened to encourage the flames. Then, her half-brother, red-haired Tommy, jerked her away to hide in a pickup truck headed for the border. Tom saved her life, simple as that, but he wasn’t here now.
Xochi backed up the two steps leading to the street. “Edward, would you mind walking me to the corner? There are two unsavory men blocking the doorway.”
“Escorting beautiful women is another of my talents. Be glad to.”
“Hey, what about my order, lover boy?” Miss Lily protested.
“Amy, get Miss Lily a chai tea and two vanilla scones. Be back in a minute.”
The door opened outward and forced the thug to back up. Edward took her arm and gallantly walked Xochi the short distance to the corner. Behind them, Miss Lily’s grumpy voice said, “Hey, get out of my way you loiterers unless you want a cup of hot tea in the face.”
Xochi glanced over her shoulder to see the dark men step back and give the old lady some room. She looked down the street and saw another pair coming her way at a fast pace. Thank God, not like those who followed her. Tom and Alix jogged side by side, his yellow and her blue aura overlapping to create the lovely turquoise color that always made Xochi joyful. She hailed them before they could turn off on the side street to enter their brownstone condominium. They waited, running in place, on the corner until the traffic passed.
“Thanks, Edward, I see my brother and his wife. I’ll be fine now. Just nervous, I guess. You are a true gentleman.”
“Does this mean you’ll go out with me?”
“I’ll consider it.”
Xo dashed across before the light turned again. “I am so glad to see you two. I thought some guys were following me.” She turned to look around. Both men were gone, whether hidden in another doorway or whisked away in a car, she didn’t know.
“Dark men?” asked Tom.
“How did you…”
“Junior told us. He asked us to watch out for you. Just call, Xochi.” Alix took her arm and sandwiched her in beside Tom. “World Trade Center, right?”
“You must think I’m crazy because they aren’t back there anymore.”
“Nope, I know you see things other people don’t.” Her dear brother, Tom, always on her side. If Alix thought her sister-in-law was paranoid, she didn’t voice i
t. In fact, they promised to meet her at five for the journey back to the apartment.
Her escorts did their cool down walk, still moving so fast she had no time to dig out a dollar for her favorite bag lady who always had a cheery good morning for everyone and a little dog to feed. They left her at the entrance to the imposing building. Xochi burrowed deep into the lobby and sat drinking her coffee and forcing down the croissant hoping both would steady her nerves. Then, she went about her business, taking care of scheduled appointments and leaving letters drawn from her bright pink bag explaining her relocation and giving out an e-mail address that clients could still use to have contracts or other documents transcribed.
She stayed in the building all day, having that single cookie for lunch, not a good idea as she felt a trifle faint by five. Tom and Alix arrived, and they emerged into the heat that seemed to be pushing on her shoulders hard enough to make her knees buckle. Alix caught her arm. “You need a good meal, Sis. Tom made early reservations at Besh Steak in the casino, private curtained booth. Our treat.”
The area around the Trade Center abounded with great steak houses and grills to serve the businessmen. No need to enter Harrah’s casino since Besh’s lay right inside the door. George Rodrigue’s friendly Blue Dog paintings goggled at them as they passed the amber lit bar and the open kitchen before sinking into the comfortable brown leather of their secluded booth. The waiter took their drink order and closed the curtain for privacy.
“Let those dudes try to find us now,” Tom said.
Xochi mustered a wan smile for her brother. “I really appreciate this.”
The waiter returned with wine for the women and a beer for Tom. He and Alix went for the aged New York strip steaks. Xochi ordered the Lobster Crispy Rice. Salads all around. As they waited for the meal, Alix offered, “We’re glad to help and will meet you at your place the next couple of days and the Trade Center after work. If you’d feel better, you can stay with us.”