Big Easy Escapade

by Joan Rylen

  “Let’s go find that shoe store Daisy told us about,” Lucy said.

  “Who?” Vivian asked.

  “Daisy, from last night! Geez, you drink too much!”

  “Oh, her. I just forgot her name.” Vivian bumped butts with Lucy. “You’re the one who drank that massive vodka! Speaking of, I need a drink.”

  “I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but I’m actually a little hungry.” Kate tugged on the waistband of her capris. “My expandy pants have some expansion left in them.”

  “Ooooh, the Gumbo Shop is on the way to the shoe place,” Wendy said. “Let’s go there.”

  “Yeah, I can get my gumbo on,” Kate said, and she did a little jive.

  “They got a liquor license?” Vivian asked.

  “Of course,” Wendy said. “That’s a silly question.”

  “I’m in. Aaaaaiiiiyyyyyeeeeeeeeeeeee!”

  Chapter 9

  The cool air of the Gumbo Shop was a relief after walking the French Quarter for the last two hours, and the cold Dos Equis made Vivian happy. And it felt good to sit down.

  Wendy had a cup of seafood okra gumbo and Kate had the chicken andouille. Lucy followed Vivian’s lead and just had a liquid snack of a bloody mary.

  Wendy had a bite, then tore off a couple of pieces of her French bread, dipped them into her gumbo and handed them to Vivian and Lucy. “I know y’all aren’t hungry, but you have to at least try this. It might be the best I’ve ever had. I don’t even need to add Crystal’s or Tabasco.”

  Vivian slowly chewed her bite, then nodded in agreement. “It’s pretty damn good.”

  Lucy reached for more bread. “I think I need another taste before I can truly decide.” She winked.

  Wendy pushed her plate closer. “Go for it.”

  Kate offered hers, too.

  They took turns using the tiny one-holer located off the courtyard before paying the tab and starting out again. They ambled down Chartres toward the Shoe-Be-Do, Vivian pointing out every silver termite plate they passed.

  After pointing out yet another, she looked up and saw a sleek, black Lincoln Town Car pull in front of Hotél Versailles. The driver stopped and two stocky guys got out of each back door and looked around. One held the door open for a tall, olive-toned, dark-haired man. A tailored navy suit fit his athletic frame perfectly, and he had an aristocratic air. His chiseled face and sunglasses completed the I-just-stepped-out-of-GQ look.

  One word popped into Vivian’s mind to describe him. Powerful. Then another word. Yummm.

  Two more guys stepped out of the car, and the first two walked ahead of GQ into the hotel as the doorman greeted him personally.

  Vivian couldn’t make out the name, but she wanted to find out. “Holy Versace Versailles. Who the hell was that? I need to meet him.”

  Lucy grabbed her elbow and tried to steer her across the street. “I think he might be out of your league. The man has four bodyguards, for god’s sake.”

  Vivian pulled her arm away. “I could just go introduce myself. You never know, and it doesn’t hurt to flirt.”

  Kate wrapped her arm around Vivian’s shoulders. “I’m with ya, sista. Let’s go in!”

  Wendy laughed and said, “I’ve heard they have a neat bar in here. We should probably check it out.”

  The doorman politely said hello and held the door for the girls. They made a pass through the ornate lobby, then a quick run through the bar, Galerie des Glaces.

  Kate lagged behind, obviously impressed with what she saw. “This place is beautiful. I wouldn’t mind sitting down for a glass of vino.”

  “I doubt we can afford to drink here,” Wendy said. “They won’t have three-for-one, and we don’t want to blow the trust fund on a glass of wine!”

  “I’m on a mission, let’s get going.” Vivian looked around but didn’t see GQ anywhere.

  They went back outside to the doorman.

  “Who was that guy?” Vivian asked.

  “Just a guest. Can’t tell you more.”

  “Come on! Spill it. I know you know.”

  The doorman smiled and leaned close. “He’s some bigwig from a sandy, oil-laden country. I don’t know which one exactly, but you know what I mean.”

  “All right, all right,” Vivian said and raised her eyebrows.

  “Black gold,” Lucy said.

  “Texas Tea,” Wendy added.

  The doorman laughed and said, “Y’all come back now, y’hear?”

  The girls cracked up and kept on going down the street. The Shoe-Be-Do wasn’t much farther and Lucy happily skipped in.

  She took a deep breath through her nose. “Y’all smell that? It’s the smell of fine, Italian shoes.”

  “That has a distinct scent?” Vivian asked.

  Lucy picked up a strappy leather sandal from a display and sniffed it. “It does to me.” She said to the sales clerk, “I’d like to try this in a size 8.”

  Wendy took the shoe from Lucy and turned it over. “Oh my god. Did you see the price on this?”

  Lucy shrugged. “You’re the one who told me to stock up. These aren’t Jimmy Choos, but they’re handmade Italian. I don’t discriminate.”

  “True that. Let me help ya look.”

  Vivian pointed to the back of the store. “I see the sales rack. I’ll be back yonder where the single-moms shop.”

  Kate picked up a shoe, looked at the price, and set it down. “I’ll be with Viv.”

  Wendy helped Lucy compare several pair before they agreed that the first was it. Vivian had found four pair on the sales rack, and the total price, $100, was still a fraction of Lucy’s one. Kate also picked out a pair on the sales rack, and Wendy chose one of the same pair as Vivian. The wooden-soled sandals were more comfortable than they looked, and the jean and leather strip across the toes would go well with lots of outfits.

  Vivian put hers on. “We match!”

  Wendy strutted around in hers. “I’ve never had handmade shoes before. I might’ve started an addiction like Lucy. Oh no!”

  Lucy approved of their choices. “Welcome to the club, my friends.”

  Vivian picked up her bags and kept on the new shoes. “Time to break ’em in. Hotel’s close. Pay up, ladies. We’ve got places to go, people to see and presents to give.”

  Wendy handed the clerk her credit card. “Presents?”

  Vivian clicked her wooden heels together. “You’ll see!”

  They finished up at the Shoe-Be-Do and slowly made their way down Chartres, stopping at a few art galleries along the way. Their favorite painting was of a Chihuahua looking in a mirror and seeing a German shepherd as his reflection. The one beside it was of a cat doing the same but seeing a lion.

  They stopped at a walk-up bar and got a round of hurricanes to go, then went straight to the hotel. They took turns getting freshened up and trying on Vivian’s shoes while working on their drinks.

  Wendy held up two tops. “Which one of these should I wear tonight?”

  “Whichever one looks best with your bachelorette sash,” Lucy said. “But I think the red one.”

  Wendy slipped on a black tank top, then pulled on the red, semi-sheer cotton blouse with red and black swirly designs and beaded cuffs.

  “Looks cute with your black capris and new Italian shoes!” Lucy said. “This is what I’m wearing.” She held up a solid emerald green V-neck sundress. “It hits right above my knee, compliments of my fabulous seamstress.”

  “Love that color,” Vivian said. “I’d steal it but I think it’d be too short. Would look great with my eyes!”

  Kate poked her head out of the bathroom. “What are you wearing, Viv?”

  Vivian dug into the disorganized drawer and pulled out a flowy poncho-style top, turquoise, green and pale yellow with beads sprinkled around the neckline.

  “Ooooh, like that,” Wendy said, touching it. “Which pair of new shoes are you going to wear?”

  “Probably the Yoyo-wanna-be wooden ones with the jean and brown on top.
We can match!”

  Kate, hair and makeup done but still wrapped in a towel, broke out the iron and ironing board. She then set to de-wrinkling her purple, button-down top and white skirt.

  Once everyone was ready, they sat Wendy on the edge of the bed. Vivian pulled out a hot pink bag with velvet kisses all over it and handed it to her. “What’s in here rhymes with Cabildo. And it’s rechargeable.”

  Wendy took the bag, which was quite heavy, glanced inside and gasped. Kate snapped a picture.

  Vivian just smiled. “You’ll thank me. Trust me.”

  Kate handed Wendy a pure white box with a white satin ribbon. “Mine’s not nearly as trashy, but I think Jake will like it nonetheless.”

  Wendy pulled the ribbon, which fell to the floor, and opened the box. She held up a white, lacy negligee.

  “There’s a garter in there, too,” Kate said.

  Wendy blushed. “Thanks, Kate. It’s beautiful.”

  “One left!” Lucy handed her a red bag with silver metallic strands pouring over the sides.

  Wendy threw the confetti all over the girls and the room. “I like this stuff! Reminds me of Christmas tinsel.”

  She dug into the bag and pulled out some massage oils and a heart-shaped candle. She popped the lid on the candle. “Mmmm, smells good. Thanks, Lucy.”

  “It’s not just any candle. It’s special. Once you light it you can pour the wax on Jake.”

  “Won’t that hurt? And get stuck in his chest hair?”

  “That’s where the special comes in! It burns to body temperature and soaks into the skin like massage oil. Don’t tell him, just freak him out with it!”

  Wendy laughed. “Y’all are a mess. Thank you for the gifts. I can’t wait to shock him, delight him and scare the hell out of him.”

  They woo-hooed to that and finished off their hurricanes.

  “Let’s book it, ladies,” Kate said. “We’ve got a reservation.”

  Wendy clapped. “Reservations? Where?”

  “A fancy Creole place. We’ll have to pretend to be civilized.” Lucy laughed.

  “Whatever. This is New Orleans,” Vivian said. “Anything goes!”

  Chapter 10

  The maître d' of Broussard’s greeted the girls warmly and showed them to their table. Vivian peeked into the bar as they walked by. A baby grand sat in one corner, and the windows were open to the courtyard. We’ll have to stop in there later!

  Their table in the main dining room was covered in a white tablecloth and fully set. A flower in a crystal vase and a candle completed the scene.

  Vivian fiddled with her napkin. “I hope I don’t spill anything. I tend to do that, you know.”

  “You’ll be fine, quit playing with your napkin,” Lucy said.

  “It’s in the shape of a swan or something.” Vivian giggled. “I can’t get it undone.”

  Lucy took it, unfolded it and put it in her lap. “Here, now calm down.”

  Wendy looked pleased. “I’ve always wanted to come here. I’ve walked by it so many times and thought it looked fabulous.”

  Kate sat up in her chair. “I asked around and everyone said this was the place to go. Did you know this is a historic building? Part of it was a prep school in the 1800s. And the courtyard used to be the carriage house.”

  “So horses used to run through here?” Vivian asked.

  “No, silly,” Kate said.

  The waiter approached. “Actually, she’s right, but they were usually walking by the time they made it back here.”

  Lucy smiled and lifted her menu. “Y’all have done a great job cleaning up.”

  The waiter asked if they had decided on a bottle of wine or wanted something else from the bar.

  Wendy held the wine list. “I think we’ll have the Caymus Special Selection Cabernet, please.”

  “Nice choice. Off menu tonight is our stuffed mirliton with wild Louisiana shrimp and lump crabmeat.”

  “I do like wild stuff,” Vivian smirked.

  “What’s mirliton?” Kate asked.

  “It’s also known as a mango squash or vegetable pear. It’s a southern Louisiana favorite.”

  “You lost me at squash,” Vivian said. “I’m more of a meat eater.”

  “The filet mignon is excellent, and the redfish Broussard is one of our most popular items. It’s a filet dusted in cornmeal, topped with shrimp, crabmeat and crawfish, and served with an oyster mushroom étouffée.”

  “Sold!” Wendy said and put down her menu.

  Vivian went with the filet mignon, Lucy ordered the swordfish Vera Cruz and Kate the mirliton special.

  Dinner was superb and as they shared the Crepes Broussard for dessert, an elegant woman in her ’50s approached.

  “Good evening, ladies, I’m Evelyn. What are you celebrating?”

  Wendy held up her tacky sash. “Bachelorette party. I’m getting married in a few weeks.”

  “Congratulations. Thank you for celebrating with us. I’d like to offer you a bottle of champagne.” She signaled the waiter, who arrived with a bottle of bubbly and four flutes.

  The girls cheered as he popped the cork and poured.

  “Would you like to join us?” Kate asked.

  “Oh no, thank you. I have a lot to do around here. You ladies have a fun night. I hope to see you again sometime.”

  “Thank you!” Wendy said, holding up her champagne flute. “We will most definitely be back!”

  Evelyn walked off and Lucy said to Wendy, “So how are the wedding plans coming along? Your invitations were beautiful, by the way.”

  Wendy smiled. “Thanks, and yes, everything is planned and pretty well wrapped up.”

  “Who’s your maid of honor?” Vivian asked.

  Lucy looked perplexed. “It isn’t you?”

  Vivian waved her hand. “Nah, I opted out. I’m 300 miles away and busy with four kids.”

  “All of you live out of town and I didn’t want to burden y’all with trekking to Houston to help me plan and pick stuff out,” Wendy explained. “Ali’s my maid of honor. She and I have saved each other from annoying men, supported each other with good ones, and laughed at the dumb ones. And she’s lots of fun. My cousin, soon-to-be sister in-law and old friend, Silly Sally, are my other bridesmaids.”

  Kate held up her glass in a toast. “It’s going to be a beautiful wedding and I’m so excited for you!”

  The girls cheersed, then Vivian said, “Let’s take this party to the bar!” She snagged the champagne bottle and danced her way through the dining room, directly to the baby grand. A gentleman in his ’60s played Fats Domino’s “Blueberry Hill.”

  Toward the bottom of the champagne bottle Vivian pulled out the penis whistle. “I think we need to jazz this song up.”

  She started blowin’ and goin’, the accompaniment to “Tutti Frutti.”

  Kate pulled out her camera and took some video. “She’s going to regret this someday, but for now it’s fantastic!”

  They sang and blew along for several songs, joining other patrons for a spin on a makeshift dance floor in front of the piano. Evelyn sang along with Tom, the piano player, to “What a Wonderful World,” and Vivian took a break on the whistle.

  They clapped when the song was over, then Wendy said, “Let’s hit Razzoo’s before we go to Daisy’s show!”

  “Woo-hoo!” the rest of the girls chimed.

  They said goodbye to Evelyn and Tom and wandered out to Bourbon. The crowd had grown in the last couple of hours, and the girls just jumped right in. They went with the flow up Bourbon a few blocks until the crowd almost stopped where guys were throwing beads from a balcony.

  Vivian blew on the penis whistle to get their attention, but they didn’t throw any her way. “Here,” she said and shoved the whistle at Wendy. “You try, and get up there with your sash!”

  Wendy took the whistle and wiped off Vivian’s lipstick before putting it in her mouth. She gave it a shrill blow and got closer to the balcony. One of the guys threw down a lo
ng strand of pearly beads and she caught them. She waved and tooted on the whistle before joining the girls. “These are great! Quite the throw!”

  Kate admired the beads, then said, “You know, that whistle could come in really handy if one of us gets lost in this crowd.”

  Lucy picked up her new Shoe-Be-Do high heels. “Or if one of us goes down.”

  “Woman down! Woman down!” Vivian shouted.

  Wendy blew the whistle and led the way through the crowd. A block later, another group of people on a balcony threw beads into the crowd. Vivian looked up to catch a strand and stumbled on the uneven cobblestones. She couldn’t get her footing and went down, smack, on her hands and knees, right in the middle of Bourbon Street.

  Lucy and Kate shouted, “Woman down!” several times and Wendy blew the whistle.

  Beads showered them from every angle, especially hitting Vivian, who was laughing and unable to get up because of it. A strand of Jamaican bobsled beads hit her on the side of the face and neck. A guy next to her picked up the beads and grabbed her by the elbow, helping her to her feet.

  “You deserve these,” he said, draping them around her neck.

  Wendy checked Vivian over for blood or serious damage, but Vivian waved her off. “I’m fine, hardly even scratched my knees. I’d like to wash my hands, though!”

  Wendy pulled a packet of hand wipes out of her purse and waved it in front of her. “Who’s your girl?”

  “You are!” She grabbed the wipe and cleaned up.

  They made it to Razzoo’s without further incident and bellied up to the bar, ordering a round of drinks. The bartender set down nine Bud Lights and a large cup of Lucy’s vodka and tonic. “Three-for-one,” he said when the girls looked at him like he was hard of hearing because they’d ordered three beers total.

  “Can you keep these on ice for us?” Wendy asked, slapping down a 20.

  “You can.” He pulled out a bucket and filled it full of ice.

  Wendy expertly maneuvered the extra beers into the bucket, then it set on a table near the railing. They watched some crappy dancing on stage and listened to some bad karaoke. After a few minutes they went outside to the courtyard. The guy from the night before, in the giant foam cowboy hat, was out there with his friends. He saw the girls through his sunglasses and made a beeline for Wendy. Before she could escape, he leaned her back and planted another one on her.