An Easy Dare

by Rosalie Rousseaux

  On their way out Gabe turned and gave me that look, the one that always shot right through me. In that one look I saw him—my Gabe—and I thought of our connection. I remembered the night that I taught him how to braid my hair. I remembered the day he gave me a piggy-back ride down Esplanade and we laughed until our sides ached. I remembered how we’d tease the tourists coming out of Brennan’s and Galatoire’s and try to lure them to my father at the Blue Note.

  Anna had to elbow me to snap me out of my nostalgic fog as Jules wandered off the chat it up with a couple at the other end of the bar. “Don’t let them see you sitting here like a puppy dog.”

  “Oh, seriously, Anna, I’m fine. You’ve gotta stop with all this Gabe stuff. I mean, it’s definitely a shock to see him and Delilah together—”

  “Yes, considering she’s a total bitch.”

  “—but maybe it’s a good thing. It’s a sign that things have truly moved on.”

  Anna burst out laughing. “Now that’s a bigger lie than Gabe and Delilah. He’s doing this to get to you. She probably is, too.”

  “You watch too many movies,” I said.

  “That may be true, but they’re both up to something, and I still say you and Gabe light up the room. There’s no doubt in my mind—your fates have come in. You better listen to them, and your heart, and take in the signs.”

  “How about we put the fates on hold tonight and just enjoy a few drinks? I don’t know how much longer I’ll be able to hold out. I’m exhausted.” That was only half-true. My mind was filled with Gabe, Gabe, Gabe, and I knew it would be impossible for me to focus on believable conversation after seeing Gabe and Delilah together. “Tell me what’s going on with you.”

  “What’s going on with me? Same as usual. After you bail I’ll get one of the waitress here to go out and catch a band and go dancing. We’ll probably go down to Frenchman’s. You should come. You love live music and there’s some really good new bands down there.”

  “Not tonight.”

  “Remember last time we went down to Frenchman’s and that guy in skinny jeans tried to pick you up? You told him you had a no-hipster policy and he got all pissed off?”

  “Yeah,” I said, grinning. “He kept saying, You don’t know me, lady. I’m not that hip!”

  Anna roared with laughter. We’d used that line for weeks after that. Every time she’d tease me for doing something ridiculous—which was pretty often, back then—I’d say, You don’t know me lady. I’m not that hip. We said it even when it didn’t make any sense. Stupid as it was, it made us laugh every time.

  “C’mon,” Anna said. “It’ll be fun.”

  My smile faded. “Another time, okay?”

  “Okay. I’ll let you off the hook. For now.”

  We spent the next hour laughing and reminiscing. I played the nonchalant role perfectly, and finally, as my reward, I said good night and walked out the door alone. Before I left I subtly shoved a few hundred dollars behind the bar. Something to help get Jules on his trip to Europe.

  Everyone should get a chance to live their dream.

  -8-

  Sometimes it felt like I could manifest Gabe just by thinking of him, because as soon as I said goodbye to Anna and stepped out of the Blue Note, he was there. Standing across the street with his hands in his pockets, like a kid. Watching me. Waiting. Like he knew I would come.

  I crossed the street and pretended to look like I didn’t care that he was there. He knew better, I’m sure, but I was Mrs. Cort Belrose now, and I had to act like it.

  “What’re you doing here?” I asked. I glanced around nervously. I didn’t want anyone to see us talking. I didn’t want people to think something was going on, especially since nothing was. And I would do everything in my power to keep it that way. Marriage meant commitment. Marriage meant fidelity. What kind of woman would I be if I cheated on Cort less than a month after our wedding? No, I wouldn’t do that.

  His jaw twitched. He looked at me hungrily. I could tell he’d been drinking. Not drunk, but tipsy. He got that hungry look when he drank, like he wanted to rip my clothes off on the spot and put himself inside me.

  My heart quickened.

  Get it together, Cat. Jesus.

  “I had to see you,” he said. “I tried to tell myself to focus on business, but I just can’t help it. I had to see you privately, even if it’s just on a street corner.”

  “Focus on business? What kind of business? This is all so fucked-up, Gabe. I don’t understand what’s going on or why you’re here.”

  He paused. “Come with me. I want to show you my house on St. Charles. It’s not as fancy as my one-room shack off Magazine, but it’ll do. I haven’t had to scare away a single crackhead since I moved in. I even have some of your work hanging in my sun room. One of your paintings.”

  You’re not my man anymore, I thought. “Your ‘sun room’? So you really have a house on St. Charles, huh? Jesus.” I wondered which of my drawings he had. I’d given him so many over the years—sketches of him, me, us, the park, the city. He always called them my ‘work.’ He never called them doodles.

  “Your husband’s family has a house on St. Charles,” he said. “Why not me?”

  “How about because the last time I saw you, you didn’t have a fucking penny to your name—”

  “—that’s not true. I usually had at least ten cents under the couch cushions. You can vouch for that—”

  “–and now you suddenly have boatloads of cash? Sorry if that’s a little suspicious to me and everyone else.”

  “Just call me Captain Intrigue.”

  “More like Captain Asshole.”

  He looked down. His dark hair fell across his forehead. “Why are you being so nasty to me? We’ve barely spoken, and this is what I get.”

  “Damn right.” I felt an overwhelming mix of anger, love and lust burrowing deep into my chest. “You left me, remember? And then you saunter back on my wedding day and expect me to go to your mansion on St. Charles Avenue, like it’s just any other night in New Orleans.”

  He raised his eyes. “I know it’s not just any other night, Mrs. Belrose. Believe me.” We stared at each other. Three years ago, he would have grabbed me and kissed me. But there was too much between us now. Three years and a wedding. “Come to my house. I’ll explain everything.”

  “I can’t go to your house. You know it wouldn’t be right.”

  “Since when do we give a shit what’s right?”

  “Since …” I inhaled and looked away from him. I didn’t have the strength to keep meeting his eyes without exposing how much I wanted him, how much I’d missed him, how I longed to cry in his arms and ask why, why, why.

  “Since you became Cort’s trophy.”

  “I’m no man’s trophy.”

  “That’s what I used to think.” His voice hardened. “But if that were true, you wouldn’t have married a man like that. He doesn’t love you. He only loves the idea of having you, because he couldn’t have you all those years. He loves the fact that he can polish you up like an old piece of jewelry and bring you around New Orleans society to show off his good work. He’s a spoiled boy who grew into a small man. He wanted you because I had you, and now that he has you, he will try to turn you into something you’re not, Mrs. Belrose. Because he doesn’t understand you. He never did. He understands no one but himself. He’s a selfish prick.”

  “Enough!” My cheeks burned. Even though I knew it would cut him, I said, “You don’t know anything about him or our relationship.”

  Gabe took a step closer. His shadow climbed all over me.

  “You’re wrong, Catherine Martel,” he said, low. “I know about your relationship. I know he doesn’t know how to please you.” He leaned even closer. “I bet he doesn’t even appreciate how beautiful you look when you’re being made love to. The way your neck turns a light shade of pink, or how you lift your head back and part your mouth. I bet he doesn’t notice or care about any of those things. He only cares about what
he’s getting out of it. He has no idea what kind of woman he has.”

  The back of my neck dampened. Oh, god, I wanted him. I wanted to grab him. He was right, everything he said was right. Cort never did any of those things. In the beginning I tried to tell him, guide him, to show him what I liked, but he never cared. Gabe always knew. It was like he had a sixth sense about my body.

  I lifted my head to him. His lips were there—right there. I wanted them. To hell with the marriage. To hell with everything. Gabe was back. Gabe was back to love me, fuck me, marry me.

  Except you’re already married.

  I turned away. Stepped back.

  “I’m with him now, Gabe,” I said, my voice throaty and dry. I fumbled with my wedding ring. “You shouldn’t have left. You shouldn’t have left.”

  I hadn’t planned on crying, but the tears started pushing their way up anyway. I didn’t want him to see them. I’d cried so many times over him that I wondered if I had anything left. Apparently, I did.

  But I wouldn’t let him know.

  If he knew how badly I wanted him, how desperately I’d always loved him, he would never give up. And he had to. Because if he didn’t, I was certain to give in. I couldn’t trust myself around him. He carried too much of me in his soul.

  *

  When I got home, Cort was in the living room drinking a wide glass of brandy and smoking a cigar. I swear, it was like he read a handbook on how to be a gentleman of the old south. He was sitting on our plush, cream-colored couch, staring at a blank television.

  “Where’ve you been?” he asked, without looking up.

  “Out with Anna. Like I told you.” I headed for the refrigerator. I need a big gulp of nice cold water, followed by a nice cold shower. The last thing I wanted to do was answer questions about where I’d been. My mind was too busy with all the things Gabe said. Unfortunately, it was obvious that Cort knew Gabe was at the Blue Note. I could tell by the tension in the air.

  “He’s got a lot of fucking nerve going into one of my bars,” Cort said, like he knew exactly what I was thinking.

  I took a swig of water. “Talk to Delilah about it. She’s the one who showed up with him.” I could feel my veins tighten. “I’m going to take a shower.”

  Cort stood up and strode over quickly. He put his glass on the marbled counter.

  “Not yet,” he said. “We need to talk.”

  Great. I was tipsy from the drinks and in no mood to talk, especially since it was obvious that he wanted to lecture me about Gabe. I wanted to tell him that he needn’t bother, since I’d been lecturing myself ever since the bachelorette party, trying to psyche myself into being a good wife.

  What came out of his mouth was not what I expected. At all.

  “I want to start a family.”

  I nearly dropped my water.

  “What?” I said.

  “I want to start a family with you.”

  “We just got married.”

  “I’m aware of when we got married,” he said. His eyes were bloodshot. Drunk. It starting to seem like everyone was on a mission to get hammered tonight. “And you damn well better be, too.”

  My breath caught in my throat. He’d never spoken to me like this before. “Excuse me?”

  “I want to start a family,” he said.

  “What’s wrong with you? Why’re you acting like this?”

  “I want you to have my baby. A son.”

  “First of all, I can’t control whether I give you a son or a daughter and second of all, I think it’s a little early to start talking about children, don’t you?”

  He cocked his head. “Why’s that? You got other things on your mind?”

  Jesus. Gabe hadn’t just crawled under his skin this time—he’d camped out there.

  “Well, maybe I wanted to go back to school. I only had two semesters left at UNO.” Until Gabe left and I could barely function.

  He scoffed. “I told you, there’s no reason for you to go back to school. You’re married to a Belrose now. There’s plenty of money. You can spend your days shopping, going to restaurants, seeing movies, hanging out with Anna. Whatever you want.”

  “What if I want to go back to school?”

  “What’s the point?”

  “When we were dating you said you’d have no problem with it.”

  “Well,” he said, taking a final swig. “I have a problem with it now, because I’m ready to start a family. I don’t see what difference it makes if we do it now or later. You said you wanted kids, right?”

  “Right. But—”

  “And we’ve made a lifetime vow. Correct?”

  “Yes, Cort, but—”

  “Well then, why wait?”

  I paused and took a deep breath. It was difficult to reason with Cort when he’d been drinking because he could never be convinced that he was wrong. He was the same way when he was sober, but usually less of an asshole about it.

  Before I could come up with an answer that would shut him up and allow me to escape upstairs for my cold shower and warm bed, he walked toward me. The look in his eyes was hunger, but not the same look that Gabe had given me. There was always something different about Cort’s approach, ever since the beginning, but I could never quite figure out what it was.

  He only cares about what he’s getting out of it. He has no idea what kind of woman he has.

  I pushed the thought down and out of the way. Gabe was just trying to get at me and confuse me because he was jealous. That was it. There was nothing to it.

  Was there?

  Cort wrapped one arm around my waist and pulled me toward him. He smelled like liquor and cigars. He was my husband, true, but at that moment I didn’t want him to touch me.

  “Not now, Cort,” I said.

  “There’s only one way to start a family, and I say we start right now.”

  “Why’re you acting like this? You’re drunk.”

  He kissed me. I pushed him back lightly.

  “I said, not now.”

  He glared at me. “You’re my wife.”

  “I know.”

  He snatched up my left hand and waved the ring in my face. “My wife.”

  “I’m tired. I’ve been drinking, I was out with Anna, and now I want to go to bed. Besides, you’re drunk and you’re acting like—”

  He stepped in my path when I tried to walk off. “Did you fuck him? Is that why you can’t fuck me right now?”

  “Don’t be stupid.”

  “Don’t you ever call me stupid again,” he growled. “Answer the fucking question.”

  “I don’t need to, because it’s a stupid question. Of course I didn’t fuck him, Cort. What kind of person do you think I am?”

  “The kind that refuses to start a family with her own husband.”

  “I’m not refusing to start a family with you. It just seems a little fast, that’s all. Don’t you want to enjoy being married for a few years before we’ve got kids running around?”

  “No. I want kids now. I want you to carry my baby. I want us to be a family. Any woman would be lucky to have my baby.”

  He wanted me to ‘carry his baby’? Suddenly I felt like a human-sized baby carrier. “What about me going back to school? You said—”

  He pounded his fist on the counter. “Fuck what I said!”

  I’d known Cort my entire life and I’d never seen him so angry. It unnerved me. I wasn’t even sure what he was pissed off about—the fact that I didn’t want to “carry his baby” at that exact moment, or the knowledge that Gabe Augustine was back in town, walking into his wedding and restaurants like he was welcome wherever he wanted?

  I suspected it was a mixture of both.

  Cort had always been a control freak—I knew that before I married him—so I wasn’t surprised when he wanted to take over the details of our wedding or the destination of our honeymoon. But now he wanted to take control of when we’d start our family, and that was a different story.

  Cort took a deep breath an
d rubbed his face. “I’m sorry, Cat,” he said. “I just don’t understand why you’re refusing this. I thought you wanted to be the mother of my children. Maybe I was wrong.”

  The guilt trip.

  Another Cort standard.

  On his ninth birthday he’d invited me to a party at the Crescent and when I said I couldn’t go because I promised Gabe I’d stay with him—he’d just gone through a terrible time with his mother—Cort went on and on about how his birthday would be ruined if I wasn’t there and how he would never get to enjoy any of his presents and how Gabe always got everything, which I didn’t understand since Gabe had nothing but a drug-addicted mother with a string of boyfriends who beat him to the point that he’d suffered three broken bones by the time he turned ten.

  Cort couldn’t understand why I’d want to stay with someone like Gabe when I could attend a party with the richest kids in town.

  He doesn’t understand you, Gabe had said. He never did. He only understands himself.

  “I’m going to take a shower, then go to bed,” I said.

  His face relaxed. He looked at me. “I’m sorry, Cat. I don’t know what’s gotten into me. I—” He looked at the floor and swallowed. “I just don’t understand why he had to come back.”

  “It doesn’t matter. We’re married now.”

  He nodded, but didn’t raise his head. “We can talk about you going back to school. I’m sorry I acted like an asshole.”

  “Okay,” I said. “We’ll talk in the morning, then.”

  This time he didn’t block my way when I walked by.

  -9-

  It was hard being the girl between Cort and Gabe.

  Things may have been different if Cort hadn’t been so stuck on money. He was the kind of kid who told over-the-top stories about how he beat up two guys at once, even though everyone knew those two guys didn’t really exist because we all knew Cort couldn’t throw a punch to save his life. No one ever said anything, though, because of his family. No one except Gabe.

  “That never happened,” Gabe said, after one of Cort’s tall tales. We were about eleven at the time.