by Kate, Jiffy
“Finley, dear, can you bring me another pillow from the linen closet?” Maggie calls out from the living room.
“Yes, ma’am. Be right there!” I turn off the kitchen faucet and dry my hands, since I’d been cleaning up after the lunch, and jog down the hall to get the requested pillow and an extra blanket, just in case. Maggie typically falls asleep shortly after lunch due to her meds and I want to make sure she’s as comfortable as possible.
After Maggie is situated and dozing in the recliner, I walk quietly to my room and call Shep for my daily check-in.
“Hey, Finn. How’s Maggie doing today?” Shep asks, answering the call after the first ring.
“Were you sitting on the phone or something or do you miss the sound of my voice so much you couldn’t bear to let your phone ring twice?”
Shep lets out a chuckle. “Very funny, jackass. I already had my phone in my hand when you called. Besides, I know how much you love the sound of my voice and I didn’t want to make you wait.”
“Yeah, you got me.” I roll my eyes, laughing with him for a second and it feels good. It also feels good that after all this time, Shep is still there for me… for us. “Maggie’s doing great,” I tell him. “She’s napping now but she’s moving around the house more and her appetite is coming back, which is good.”
“That’s a relief,” he says with a sigh. “I can’t tell you how thankful I am that you’re there taking care of her. I know she’s your grandma but she’s family to me, too, you know?”
“I know, man.” And, I do. Maggie was more of a mother to Shep than his own mom and she was certainly a better example for him. I love how close they are because they’re my family and the two most important people in my life, outside of Jette.
Speaking of…
“How’s my girl?”
“Why are you asking me?” Shep asks, sounding smug. “Every time I see her she tells me y’all just talked or video chatted or what the fuck ever.”
I fight back a smile, but the concern I feel for her is real, so I press further. “Yeah, but what if Jette is only acting like she’s okay so I won’t worry about her? You’d tell me if something was really wrong, but she wouldn’t.”
I’m starting to sound ridiculous to my own ears but I just miss her so much.
“Settle down, lover boy. Georgette misses you like crazy but she’s surviving. CeCe and I see her a few times a day and make sure she’s eating regularly. Plus, she has King to help keep her mind off you. Now that I think about it, you might’ve already been replaced by the furball.”
“You’re just full of jokes today, aren’t you?”
I’ve always appreciated this—the way we banter. I only wish we were doing it in person.
“Seriously, though,” Shep says, his voice now the one sounding concerned. “How are you holding up? You must be going out of your mind without your music.”
“Fuck, man. You don’t know the half of it.” I pause running a hand through my hair. “I feel like I’m missing a limb or something, not being able to perform or record. I’ve been writing, though, so that’s eased the ache a little, but I miss my sax.”
“Dude, if you want me to ship your sax to you, I will. Or, better yet, why don’t you go and buy you another one?”
My face contorts into a look of disgust he can’t see, but he definitely hears my scoff and audible dismissal. “No way,” I tell him and he chuckles. “She can’t be replaced.” Just like another she that’s constantly on my mind. “But thanks for the offer. Besides, I’d rather spend my money on something else, which is what I wanted to talk to you about.”
“What’s that?” he asks, giving me his full attention.
Letting out a deep breath, I peer out the window and tell him what I’ve been thinking.
“I’d like to hire a home-health nurse to come and take care of Maggie when I leave. I know Aunt Stella is here but I’d feel better if she was getting actual medical care if she needs it.”
There’s a pause and for a second, I think he’s going to tell me it’s a bad idea, but then he says, “I think that’s a great idea, but why don’t you let me take care of that?”
“No,” I tell him, already expecting this argument and fully prepared to win this one. “It should be me; I want it to be me. You and CeCe have done so much for me already and I have money saved up, thanks to my work and the measly rent you two charge me. I need to do this for Maggie. It’s the only way I’ll be able to leave her.”
“Okay, I get that.” Shep pauses and I know he’s about to give me a counteroffer. It’s impossible for him to just accept someone else’s idea and move on. “How about this, you pay for Maggie’s care and we’ll consider what you think you owe us paid in full. We’ll be even. Think you can accept that?”
Even.
The way he makes it sound, as if we’re the same, is something he’s always done for me. Never making me feel like I’m less or beneath him, due to my age or social status. I should’ve expected this kind of deal from Shep, the generous bastard that he is, but I appreciate him making me feel like his equal.
“Alright, I accept,” I tell him, feeling lighter than I have in days. “And, thanks. You know I appreciate you and CeCe so much.”
Shep blows off the gratitude, like always, but I know he hears me. “Just keep taking care of Maggie so you can get your ass back down here, deal?”
“You got it.” I let out a deep breath, peeking in on Maggie who’s still resting peacefully. “Please give Jette my love when you see her.”
“Whatever, Finn. I know you’ll be talking to her later. You can tell her yourself.” And, with that, Shep ends our call.
Later, after dinner, I’m sitting on the couch with Maggie and Aunt Stella watching television, which has become a nightly routine. It’s similar to the one I had with Jette before my life got flipped upside down and oddly makes me miss her even more.
Why is it that everything seems worse at night?
“You see that man playing the sax on this talk show, Finley?” Stella asks. “Why don’t you do something like that? It’d be so nice to know someone on television, right, Maggie?”
Maggie sighs, adjusting her blanket. “It sure would but he’s too busy in New Orleans now, isn’t that right, Finley? Which reminds me, how are you able to keep all your jobs while staying here with us?”
I secretly roll my eyes at their passive ways of digging into my life. Either of them could come right out and ask me anything, but they always use each other to get the information they want.
“Well,” I say, sighing as I lean forward. “Lola and I speak on a regular basis, she told me not to worry about the studio. My work will be waiting on me when I return. So, that just leaves my corner on Royal St, where I’m my own boss and only really for fun, and to make it easier to see Jette during the day.”
Maggie cocks her head, her eyes questioning. “What about that club you were playing at?”
“I actually quit the other day,” I admit.
“But, Finley,” she says, regret in her tone, which is exactly why I hadn’t brought it up, because I didn’t want her to be upset. “You loved that job and I’m sure you were great at it. I feel terrible that you had to quit because of me.”
Shaking my head, I lean over and place a hand over hers. “Maggie, don’t worry about it. Gia was cool with it and told me I can come back anytime I want to. Besides, taking care of you is more important right now.”
“Well,” she finally says, a hint of sadness on her face. “I know your sweet Georgette must be missing you like crazy…”
Even after a heart attack and open-heart surgery, this woman is still ornery as hell.
“Are you trying to get rid of me?” I ask, only partly joking, but Maggie laughs anyway.
She swats at me, a small smile replacing the frown. “Of course not, silly. I love having you here, you know that, but at some point, you need to go back and start living your life again. Things are going so well for you in New Orleans; I
don’t want to be the one to hold you back.”
About this time, Aunt Stella perks up and sets down her cross-stitching to get in on the conversation. “I want to hear more about this girlfriend of yours. Are you two serious?”
Two old gossips, I swear.
“Yeah, I think we are. I mean, it’s been a complicated road getting us to this point,” I admit. “But I know she’s the one for me. She’s my forever.”
Maggie and Aunt Stella both sigh and I can’t help the smile on my face.
“I always knew you two would make it,” Maggie says confidently, like she’s somehow responsible for Jette and I being together. “I’m just so happy for you, honey. It sure would make an old woman happy to see you two married soon.”
“Good Lord, Maggie,” Aunt Stella scoffs, giving her sister a stern look. “Let them live their lives. They’re young and have all the time in the world.”
Holding her hands up in surrender, Maggie defends herself. “Look, all I know is, life is short. Take it from the old lady who just had open-heart surgery, don’t have any regrets, Finley. You marry that lovely lady and continue making people happy with your music but promise me one thing.”
I have a feeling she’s going to play this open-heart surgery card for a long time to come.
“Anything, Maggie,” I say, being completely honest, even though I’m onto her antics.
“Don’t marry Georgette until I’m well enough to dance at the wedding.”
Letting out a soft chuckle, I lean over and kiss her cheek, so thankful to have this time with her and that’s she’s finally feeling like herself again. “We’ll wait for you, I promise.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
Georgette
“Hey,” I say, smiling into the small video screen Cami had delivered last week. She thought we needed video chats for our weekly staff meetings of three—me, her, and Junie. I agreed, because I miss her and I need June to know what my voice sounds like because I have every intention of being her favorite auntie.
Granted, I have stiff competition. For starters, she has two real aunts, plus all of the French Quarter crew… or krewe as I’ve now started referring to our tight-knit group in my head, because… New Orleans.
Cami holds June up to the camera. “Hello! We just woke up from our afternoon nap.”
“We, huh?” I ask. “Did you finally take the advice of everydamnbody and nap?”
Last week, we agreed we can still cuss in front of June because she’s too small to know what we’re saying. Once she starts babbling, we’ll filter. Until then, especially when the older Landry children are running amuck, we speak unfiltered.
“The boys are with Annie and Sam,” Cami says, a content, well-rested smile on her face. “Sam stopped by to get them after his shift at Pockets.”
“Well, that’s good for mama,” I tell her, sorting through the last of the paperwork on the desk in front of me. I have some samples I need to show Cami and get her approval on. “How’s Deacon?”
Cami sighs. “Honestly, he’s been perfect… I know, I know. That sounds cheesy, but he’s just so freaking good at this dad thing.” There’s a dreamy expression on her face as she snuggles June close to her chest. “I mean, I always knew he would be, but he’s really blowing this three-kid thing out of the water. Taking a night-time shift, even though he has to get up and manage restaurants and people. He brings home dinner most nights.”
“He’s a keeper, that’s for sure.”
She nods, taking a sip of water. “He is. There were some touch-and-go moments during those last few months when I wanted to strangle him for being so overprotective, but in the end, it all balances out.”
“Gotta take the good with the bad,” I tease.
We spend about half an hour talking business. I give her a financial update and we discuss a new charity project we’ve been tossing around. Then, I take her on a virtual tour of the gallery, stopping at the new exhibit I’ve been working on.
“I think their style really adds something to the current pieces,” Cami says. “The colors are so vibrant and I’m obsessed with the brush strokes. You said you found them in the Quarter?”
“Yeah,” I tell her, walking back over to the desk so I can prop the screen back up and give my arm a rest. “He was set up in front of Jackson Square… I’ve probably walked by there a hundred times, but last week when I was grabbing beignets from Cafe du Monde, the painting I just showed you jumped out at me. He stopped by earlier this week with a few more samples and they were all so good. I knew we had to have him.”
Cami beams. “And you were right… and so was I.”
“About what?”
“Hiring you.”
I feel a blush creep up on my cheeks at her praise. “Thank you… you have no idea what it means to hear you say that. And you have no idea how much you changed my life by taking a chance on me.”
“It wasn’t a chance,” she says quietly, glancing down at the baby who just downed an entire four ounces of milk. “It was fate.”
I couldn’t agree more.
After I end the video chat with Cami, I make my usual lap around the gallery—checking all the alcoves and running a dust mop along the edges of the floors. We have a cleaning crew who stops by every Sunday, while we’re closed, but I try to stay on top of maintaining it during the week.
“Well, King,” I say to my sleeping dog who’s curled up on his plush bed under the desk. “I think it’s time to call it a day, buddy.”
His ears perk up.
“Ready to go home?”
He wags his tail, making me smile.
Leaning down, I rub his ears and dig out his fancy footwear for our walk home. I’m so glad I have him. These past couple of weeks without Finn would’ve been so much harder without him.
Once he’s got his shoes and leash on, we make our way to the front door and I set the alarm before stepping out on the sidewalk.
“Georgette,” I hear a familiar voice call out and when I turn, CeCe, Avery, and Carys are walking my way, with Shep trailing closely behind, his phone pressed to his ear.
“What are y’all doing here?” I ask, locking the deadbolt and checking it twice. “If you came to see some art, you’re too late… please check back on Monday!” Laughing, I give King’s leash a tug and meet them on the sidewalk.
“We came to see you,” Avery says, and it’s then I realize she’s missing my favorite accessory. “Shaw’s babysitting, and Shep here.” Pausing, she points over her shoulder. “He’s agreed to take King home for you so you can join us for dinner.”
“Really?” I ask, pleasantly surprised at this turn of events. My only plans for the evening were PB&Js on the couch with King and more reruns of Friends.
They all smile and Shep finally finishes his phone call, sliding his phone into a hidden pocket of his suit jacket. “Really,” he says, giving me a quick smile and reaching through the group of women to take the leash from me. “Y’all go… chat and do whatever women do.”
Leaning over, he places a kiss on CeCe’s lips and then dips his head in departure. “Ladies.”
Cocking an eyebrow, I wait for a second while Shep and King take off down the sidewalk.
“Is he always that smooth?” I ask.
CeCe sighs, obviously appreciating the view. “Smoothest motherfucker you’ll ever meet.”
“I don’t know,” Carys says, shaking her head a little. “I think Maverick gives him a run for his money. Maybe they took a class or something in college.”
I snort. “Those two have always been competing for something,” I muse.
“I forget you knew Mav and Shep back in the day,” CeCe says, walking forward and looping her arm through mine. “I don’t even want to think about what they were like back in college.”
“It’s a small freaking world,” I muse.
“That’s for sure,” CeCe replies.
“Well,” Avery says, saddling up on my other side, the four of us taking up the entire width of t
he sidewalk. “Shaw’s roughness definitely balances out their smoothness.”
“Oh, he’s smooth,” CeCe says. “In his own way.”
“A dark and mysterious way,” Carys adds, her voice a bit dreamy.
We all laugh and it feels good. Even in New York, I didn’t have a close group of friends. Most of the people I interacted with were from Sotheby’s and we didn’t really do anything outside of work together. When Trevor and I would go out, it was always for business—his business.
I realize as we make our way down the street, this was something else I was missing in my life.
“Where are we going?” I ask, realizing we’ve made it to Canal Street and we’re outside our normal realm. I assumed when they said dinner, we’d be eating at Lagniappe.
“Crescent Moon,” Avery says, glancing both ways and then leading the group across the street. “We’ll take the streetcar.”
This excites me. Finley had been planning on taking me into the Garden District to see where Lola’s studio is, but we didn’t get the chance before Maggie’s heart attack. Every time I think about him or her, my heart hurts. It hasn’t felt quite right since he left and I’m missing him more today than yesterday… or the day before.
Part of me thought it might get easier as time went on, but it hasn’t.
“It’s a great little restaurant,” Avery says. “I actually used to work there… for a short time.”
“Really?” I ask, loving getting little bits and pieces of their history. All of them have a story to tell and it’s really fun hearing them.
As we climb onto the streetcar, Avery stops and pays for the four of us and we find a couple of benches in the back to sit. The windows are open and the early March breeze feels nice and we start to move down St. Charles.
“Shaw and I hit a rough patch,” Avery says, picking up her story. “I needed a change and some separation.”