'I'd say it was more crazy than hazy!' laughed Ray. 'Those masks sure did bring out the animal in you. You should have been a lion not an owl, with the whole party hearing you roar like something from a Katy Perry video!'
Kim felt a cocktail of emotions wash over her. Now that her mind was clearing, she could remember Ray being very cute indeed – a kind of Chris Pine, with a rustic edge. She could remember checking out his beautifully defined arms and ultra-white smile as he helped launch their airboat onto the water. She could remember the ripple of excitement between her and Ray as they had travelled with Emily and her other colleagues back from Lafitte into the beating heart of New Orleans. But after hitting Bourbon Street, her recollections were nothing more than a melting pot of cocktails, shouts of excitement and rhythmic jazz bands on every corner.
'My thumping headache is telling me we had a good time,’ Kim began. ‘But I do have a few questions about what went on. I think that maybe the drinks took their toll on me. What exactly did we—'
Before she could continue, she heard the sound of a phone ringing on the other end of the line. The sound caused Ray to interrupt. 'Oh, that's the work phone. I expect they want me revving up another boat for an afternoon tour. I'm gonna have to fly, missy. But I'm free tonight if you fancy meeting up. What about the Old Absinthe House, at say 6pm? Give me a chance to get home, freshen up and head on out.' The phone kept ringing in the background. 'Shoot, I better answer this. That OK?'
Kim heard herself say yes without thinking. She'd be sticking to soft drinks that was for sure. 'But Ray, before you go—'
Her words were unheard. 'Great, see you then. And no making babies this time,' joked Ray. 'I'm still not over last night!'
Ray was still laughing as he hung up. Kim wasn't. What did he mean? The one thing she wanted to know about was the 'making babies'. She couldn't have been that stupid, could she? But she wouldn't have been the first girl to have done something daft after so much liquor. She shook her head. Being the life and soul of the party was one thing, but taking that party to the bedroom was quite another. She just prayed to God that she hadn't and that if she had, she'd been sensible about it. There were some Mardi Gras souvenirs she could do without.
Kim spent the afternoon tidying her sister's flat. She had tried to catch a few more hours sleep in the hope of banishing her brain-block but, after what seemed like an eternity of sleeplessly burying her head into the pillow like an ostrich-head into sand, she had given up.
As she cleared away the last of the plates and rinsed enough glassware to rival the bartenders of Bourbon Street, she couldn't help but wonder just how many people had been at the party. Had she invited them all? If she had, then she was in trouble. For a moment her brain conjured the image of Emily out in the swamplands, sticking needles into a voodoo effigy of her. There would be no escaping a curse from her sister in New Orleans. The city was famed for all sorts of weird and wonderful magic.
Kim's head still felt far from magical as she slipped on a loose-fitting shift dress and headed off into the French Quarter a few hours later. Not even the most vigorous of showers could erase the funk surrounding her brain. Too many unanswered questions circled around her thoughts like the family of swampland egrets she'd seen on the tour the day before. What happened at the party? Where was her underwear that morning? What possessed her to talk about making babies with Ray? She hadn't even remembered his name, so she certainly wasn't ready to settle down and start picking out names for her future offspring. Although, she was rather partial to Binky for a girl, after watching hours of Made In Chelsea. But not for another decade at least!
It was just after six by the time Kim reached the Old Absinthe House. As she walked in, she immediately had a spark of flashback. She'd been there the night before… Obviously it had been one of the many bars on the pre-party Mardi Gras pub crawl. She recognised the antique chandeliers and the myriad of helmets and jerseys from famous football legends suspended from the exposed wooden beams. Along the bar she could see marble fountains, the ones that had once been used to drip cooling water over sugar cubes into glasses of mind-bending absinth. Hundreds of calling cards lined the walls. She had a vague idea that she'd scribbled her own details and left them on the wall last night. Then again, what hadn't she done last night?
The bar was filling up and the sound of saxy jazz floated through the air. A quick scan around and she located a beaming Ray sitting in a far corner. For a moment her heart skipped a beat. He was even cuter than she'd partially remembered. How could she have possibly said no to that? He was wearing a Harley Davidson T-shirt and a thigh-gripping pair of faded 501s. Both showed off what was obviously an impressive physique. His hair, loose yet styled, framed his boyish face to perfection. His skin, the kind that possessed the sort of healthy glow that only great genes could give, seemed to radiate. Even the day-old stubble that peppered his chin contrasted beautifully, giving him an outdoorsy, rugged edge. He was Louisiana poster boy material for sure.
Kim attempted to match his beam as she sat down alongside him. She suspected it came out as no more than a lop-sided grin. Where should she start? 'Er, hi…' she began. 'This place looks familiar. We were here last night, right?' Her tone was layered with questioning.
'We sure were,' said Ray. 'You danced on that table over there…' he said pointing to a table a few metres to their right. 'You wrote your details on that wall there…', this time pointing to the far side of the bar. 'Then, you lined up shots for everyone on that table over there, and did your first Hurricane cocktail just outside that door. Then you told me I was the sexiest man you'd seen since Henry Cavill as Superman, for which I thank you kindly. That's also where you first kissed me as it happens. Again, something for which I thank you kindly.'
'So, did…we…er…did we get to know each other?' Each of the words came out of her mouth as if not following on from the previous one. Kim's heart was split in two. On one side, a shower of angels sang about how beautiful Ray was and that it would only be a matter of seconds before she'd want to be kissing him again. On the other side, an irritating team of pesky devils discoloured her thoughts, suggesting that the night before had not just stopped at kissing.
'We sure did. I think everyone in this bar got to know you. In fact the whole street. You were hotter than a jalapeno last night and just as fiery. Now let me buy you a drink. One of those rum Hurricanes again? You seemed to love those.' Ray went to move to the bar.
'No, no, no… A Hurricane is the last thing I want right now,' spluttered Kim. 'Can I just have a lemonade? My head is still kind of cloudy from last night. Maybe I'll have a cocktail later.' It was true. Kim was worried she may need a stiff drink after finding out the truth about the previous evening.
As Ray leaned over the bar to pay for their drinks, Kim took the opportunity to check him out from behind. The look of his backside within his jeans was a peachy masterpiece. As he sat back down beside her, Ray's hand reached out to brush a tumbling lock of hair away from her eyes. The heat she gave off could have melted the ice housed in her tall glass. 'That's better, now I can see all of those pretty English features,' he drawled.
'So, about last night…?' ventured Kim. She was dying to ask outright whether they'd actually gone beyond first base, but somehow that seemed a little crass. For all she knew, he could be thinking he had the sexual prowess of Christian Grey. But here she was unable to remember a darned thing. That wouldn't exactly boost his ego would it?
'That was some party, wasn't it?' she fished.
'Sure was. I think everyone at Gator Time Tours loved it. Especially the masks. Great idea of yours.'
Kim knew that she would require further explanation. 'Everyone at Gator Time Tours… Were they all there? And how were the masks my idea?'
'You really don't remember much, do you, missy? What do you remember?' smirked Ray.
It was time to cut to the chase. 'The tour…?' Kim raised her eyebrows and bit her bottom lip, expressing her slight nervousness at what was t
o come.
Ray ran his hands through his hair and curled his lips with glee as he began to explain. 'Well, you loved the tour. You really enjoyed seeing the alligators that was for sure, although you did say that they frightened you a little,’ he winks. ‘You and I were checking each other out the whole time – sparks were certainly dancing.'
Kim loved his exuberant honesty and didn't interrupt his flow.
'When the tour was over a group of us, including Emily, were finishing for the day. Since it's Mardi Gras season I suggested that we all head into Nawlins.' Kim equally loved Ray's usage of the city's nickname. 'You literally bit my hand off at the idea and said it would be a pretty good way of us all getting our swerve on. So, we all headed here to Bourbon Street.'
So far, so good… That sounded like a normal kind of thing that Kim would do back home in the UK. See an opportunity, especially a handsome one like Ray, and suggest a good time. But just how good a time? 'And then what happened…?' she asked tentatively.
'We bar-hopped like crazy. We were here, Razzoo, Bourbon Street Blues, The Cat's Meow karaoke bar – where you generously dedicated your somewhat energetic rendition of One Direction's What Makes You Beautiful, to me. I think we also took in Krazy Korner and Pat O Brien's bar. You were on good form. I'll say one thing about you Brit girls, you sure can drink. You were knocking back Hand Grenades like a Louisiana black bear lapping at the riverbank.'
A sense of foreboding enveloped Kim. Hand Grenades were said to be New Orleans' most lethal cocktail – the guide books and Emily had told her that – surely she'd not had too many? Even the bar guides advised that four was the max. If she'd been drinking those and attempting Harry Styles and Co on the microphone then heaven only knows what else she'd tried to do. 'So I was drunk, then?' she shrugged, not sure what to say next. 'And Emily…?'
'She had a couple of drinks but she was on early tour duty this morning, so she was being sensible. Plus I think she was looking out for you too – big-sister syndrome and all that.'
'But we had a party back at hers. That wasn't exactly sensible, was it? The place looked ransacked this morning. Why did she organise that?'
'She didn't. You did!' smiled Ray. 'We were all having a great time but Emily wanted to call it a night about 11ish. She was going to take you home too, but you didn't want to go as you were having too much of a good time. A wild dancing on the table-tops kind of good time. You were like some bar girl from Coyote Ugly. Folks were loving it. So when Emily said it was time to leave you suggested a party back at hers. The other guys from Gator thought it was a great idea too, so you fired them all up and Emily gave in to peer pressure.'
'And the masks…?'
'We picked those up on the way to Emily's. You thought it would add a little Mardi Gras thrill. And it sure did – I've never made out with an owl before.'
Kim could feel her insides cringing. 'Oh, Emily must want to kill me. I've been trying to ring her today but couldn't get hold of her. She must have been exhausted.'
'Emily had a few tours booked today as it's busy season right now, so she's been out on the waterways all day. I wouldn't worry though, she said she'd had a great night. I just think she was annoyed that she had to crash before the others.'
'So, you've spoken to her? Are you sure she didn't mind?' How could she not?
'You can ask her yourself in a bit. She finishes soon and I told her we'd be in here. She thinks you and I make a rather nice twosome.'
'So what happened after Emily went to bed? Did the party keep going?' Kim knew that the moment of truth was hurtling towards her.
'It sure did, sugar. That's when we started making babies.' Ray's delivery was equally direct and euphoric.
Kim nearly spat her mouthful of lemonade across the table. There it was, the truth, live and direct from The Big Easy. And it appeared that she was the girl who added the Easy into Big. They'd done it, been to bed without a care in the world. How could she have been so stupid? And who in their right mind called it 'making babies' in this day and age? Obviously a country boy like Ray did…
'We made two of them,' he added. 'You loved them. Helped sober you up a bit. Not much, but a bit.'
'What are you talking about Ray? What do you mean we made two babies?' Kim could feel a dread as icy as her drink spreading across her heart.
'Well, you said you were hungry. No surprise since you'd not really eaten all day. So, on the way back to Emily's I suggested that we buy a giant King Cake.'
'A what?'
Ray could sense Kim's growing frustration and tried to explain fully. 'King Cake is a tradition here in New Orleans, especially around Mardi Gras. We even have King Cake parties. They've been traced all the way back to the 18th century, originating in French Louisiana. They're all sugary sweet. I love them! You remember, it was topped with masses of sugar icing, coloured gold, green and purple – the traditional Mardi Gras colours.'
As Ray continued to explain, sweet-tasting memories began to rise from the foggy depths of Kim's mind.
'It's called the King Cake because it's named after the three kings in the story of the birth of Jesus. The maker of the cake places a small plastic baby, said to represent Jesus, inside the cake. When the cake is sliced and served, whoever finds the baby in their piece is supposed to have a whole lotta luck coming their way. You loved the story but thought that one baby in a cake wasn't enough. You said that there should be more babies in there and so we made two more from marzipan in Em's kitchen and pushed them into the cake.'
To her utter relief, Kim was beginning to understand and remember. All day she had been imagining that the night before had been like a sexed-up, lurid episode of The Bachelor. Now, she discovered that it was much more reminiscent of The Great British Bake Off. Mary Berry rather than Halle Berry. An amusing notion that didn't displease her.
That would also explain the cake in her hair and the crumbs in her bed that morning, but it didn't explain her lack of underwear. That was a subject that also needed to be broached.
'So what happened after we 'made babies'? How come there was cake in my bed? Did…er…we put it there?' asked Kim.
'I guess that must have happened when I put you to bed. After the cake had been demolished and everyone had gone home, you fell asleep on the couch. It didn’t look too comfortable so I carried you into the bedroom, set you on the bed and kissed you on the cheek. I was the perfect gent, but obviously one with icing covered fingers hence the mess on your bed I suspect. I wrote you a note, slipped it into your pocket and then let myself out.'
'But what about my—?' Kim was about to add the word 'knickers' when she was interrupted by the sound of her sister's voice from behind her.
'Well, somebody's looking a lot better than they did at half six this morning!' Emily's words were aimed at Kim and were mercifully jovial.
'Emily!' Kim leapt to her feet and gave her sister the hugest hug. She owed her that after railroading her into having a party, and it was also a welcome outlet of relief at discovering that she'd not had sex with Ray after all. 'I'm so glad to see you, sis. I'm so sorry about last night. I promise I will never drink again. I've tidied the flat, it's spotless, honest.' Kim's words tumbled out.
'Glad to hear it,' smirked Emily. 'You were still blotto when you stumbled into my room after banging every door in the flat to get to the bathroom first thing this morning. You didn't have a clue where you were going. I had to take you back to your bed.'
'Was I wearing any clothes?' whispered Kim, keen for Ray not to hear. 'It's just I wasn't wearing any underwear when I woke up this morning and I was a bit worried that I'd been a bit stupid…you know….' She jerked her head towards Ray to show her meaning. He was no longer in his seat and had headed back to the bar, mercifully out of earshot.
'You left them on the bathroom floor when you were in there to go to the toilet. You must have taken them off and drunkenly forgotten to put them back on. They're in my linen bin.'
Kim's smile stretched from ear to ear. 'How
lucky am I to have a sister like you, Em?'
'Very,' grinned Emily. 'It must be the luck from being one of the people who won the baby in their slice of King Cake. Ray told me that you and he were among the lucky winners.'
'We were? How perfect. Mind you, I should be eating humble pie not King Cake after the chaos I caused last night.'
'You can make it up to me,' giggled Emily. 'Now, what do you think of sexy young Ray? He's certainly delicious, don't you think? You couldn't praise him highly enough last night.'
Kim could feel her cheeks redden slightly. She glanced over at Ray. He was definitely tasty. He caught her gaze and grinned at the sisters. 'Couple of cocktails I assume, ladies? You drinking yet, Kim?'
'Well, just one little one won't hurt, I suppose, will it?' smiled Kim.
'He's easy to get along with, isn't he?' said Emily. 'He's very into you, and you seem to be extremely comfortable with him.'
'Yes I am,' grinned Kim. 'In fact, being with him… Well, it's a piece of cake.'
About the Author
Nigel May is a TV presenter and writer who can be seen on various TV shopping channels. He has worked as a journalist for most of the UK's top celebrity and young women magazines interviewing celebrities from stage and screen. His first novel, TRINITY, was published online in 2013 and gained rave reviews from fellow authors, national newspapers and magazines as well as many happy readers. Its high-gloss escapism and page-turning action saw him billed as the male UK answer to Jackie Collins. His second novel, ADDICTED, goes online in 2014 and was placed in the top three reads on Handbag.com's The Great British Write Off competition. He is incredibly pleased to be writing another short story for this year's SUNLOUNGER collection after the success of the first.
Website: www.nigelmay.net
Twitter: www.twitter.com/Nigel_May
SUNLOUNGER 2: Beach Read Bliss (Sunlounger Stories) Page 48