Brigitte's Cross (The Olivia Chronicles)

by Angelic Rodgers

  She felt the edge of the boxes and found a half-smoked box of Nat Sherman Black and Golds. She felt a little guilty about sneaking one, but this was an emergency. She grabbed three out of the box and grabbed the box of matches off the kitchen window sill. She headed out the back door and sat on the kitchen steps. She dropped two matches and broke one before she was able to get one to light and she could hear the sizzle and pop as she lit the cigarette.

  The day had started so well. She felt like just as she had some sense of normalcy in her life that something kept popping in as a reminder of Alex’s death. Vaughn seemed nice enough, and it wasn’t like she didn’t think and talk about Alex every day with Kirby and Mike or her dad, but she feared what Vaughn might say or ask. She wasn’t sure why, but she did. She hot-boxed the cigarette, grateful for the lightheadedness and something to focus on for a moment that was meaningless and physical.

  She squashed the cigarette out when she got to the filter. She could hear voices in the house, the realtor taking them back down the stairs and through the lower floor again. She knew she couldn’t get any work done in her current state. She fingered the St. Brigid’s medal that Vivienne gave her, and she pulled out her phone and dialed.

  Even though the call came in on her cell phone, Vivienne assumed it was her grandmother. She had snuck out of her brother’s house the morning before, and since she left and returned to her apartment, she had been waiting for her grandmother to call her. Sunday had been uneventful on that front; Marie had been at Mass, which is where she assumed Christophe was as well, as Vivienne had slipped through the courtyard and made her way past the house to a bus stop so she could get home.

  She was surprised to see the call was not her grandmother.

  “Hello? Liz?”

  She heard Liz on the other end, exhaling hard before the words started to flow. “Vivienne, I’m so sorry to call you this early, but I needed to hear a friendly voice.”

  Vivienne smiled. “No problem at all. It’s really not that early. I was just about to head over to the museum. Where are you? Maybe we could meet for lunch? You sound pretty shaken up.”

  “I am, and I’d love to meet you somewhere. I’m in the Garden District right now, and I can meet you wherever you like.”

  “Give me an hour, and we can meet at Mena’s? If you’d rather we can meet closer to where you are.”

  “No. I need to get away from where I am right now, and Mena’s sounds perfect. I’ll see you in an hour.”

  Mena’s was just starting to feel the Monday lunch crush, folks streaming in for red beans and rice in the small dining room at the corner of Iberville and Chartres. Liz beat Vivienne there, and she stood outside the door waiting for her, smoking the last of the three cigarettes she’d snagged from Lisa’s stash.

  “I didn’t know you smoke.” Vivienne neither seemed shocked or disgusted, just mildly curious.

  Liz shook her head. “Normally, I don’t. I guess I’m just vulnerable right now.” She pushed the door open and they found one of the few open tables.

  They ordered and Vivienne let Liz decide when to talk. “Thank you so much for meeting me. I feel silly, but I freaked out earlier. I was at Lisa’s, this friend of mine, working on a mural in her house. It’s on the market, and while I was there, the realtor came by with a couple who wanted to see the house.” She slid a business card over to Vivienne. “He’s called me before, and he’s writing about Alex.”

  Vivienne looked at the card. “Oh, Liz, I’m sorry. Was he a jerk?”

  She shook her head. “That’s just it; he seems really nice. I’m not sure why I freaked out. I just can’t seem to get my balance, you know? Just when things seem to even out, a reporter pops up.”

  “I can see where that would be unsettling. I’d be happy to go with you if you want to meet him and talk to him.”

  “Really? I think that I could have him come to the bar and have Kirby or Mike around, but it would be better if it were you.” Liz blushed a little. “You don’t have the history with Alex, and I think you’d be a calming influence on me in ways that Kirby and Mike aren’t.” She smiled a little. “I never would have thought to ask, but since you offered. . .”

  Vivienne smiled back. “Hey, I offered, so I’ve got no one to blame but myself. I like you, Liz. I may call on you for help someday; I don’t have a lot of friends, and ever since I met you I’ve felt like you and I could be great friends.” She paused for a second and then said, quietly, “I’m sorry that you had that experience today, but I’m really glad you called me.”

  After lunch, Vivienne invited Liz to the Voodoo Museum where she was working on her exhibit about Marie Laveau. Liz accepted the offer and they spent the afternoon there, Vivienne explaining the different displays and the purpose and intent behind various Vévés and altar offerings. By the time they parted ways and Liz headed to The Ruby, they both felt much better and Liz had a plan for dealing with Vaughn. They also had a dinner date for the next day.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Christophe felt at loose ends. Olivia was standoffish and hadn’t been very attentive for quite some time. She’d been assigning him to watch over Liz, and he felt her pulling away from him. He hoped that his news might bring her attention back to him.

  “They were fighting and Vivienne is asleep in my bed right now,” he’d told her as he greeted her the night before. He’d been right—her interest was definitely piqued.

  She sat down on the sofa in her large living room and patted the cushion next to her, indicating he should join her. He waited for it, playing as hard to get as he could, which wasn’t much.

  “What were they fighting about?” She slid her hand along his leg, teasing him.

  “The usual. Grandmother wants Vivienne to follow in her footsteps. It’s all a bit silly to me, really. Vivienne is already a Mambo and with the education she has surely she’s already more powerful than the old woman.”

  Olivia laughed. “Oh, I suspect that the old woman has more tricks than you can conceive of. Time is a great educator, and if what your mother said about Marie is true, the multiple lifetimes she’s lived give her a certain advantage, as does her familiarity with the process.” She kissed his neck and then whispered in his ear, “I should know the advantages lifetimes of experiences bring to a woman, after all.”

  Christophe smiled. “I should think so. I hope that by putting her in the space that she will find some connection to mother and maybe realize that the letter was real. She doesn’t fully believe what it implies, but I think she’s coming around. We talked earlier today after mass as we went to bring the car around, and after the fight they had at dinner tonight, I know she is working through her skepticism. Our mother’s altar is still there, and tonight is the perfect night for her to make some connection.”

  “Can you bring her to me? I want to talk to her and find out if she can help me.” She kissed his neck again, nuzzling the curve at his shoulder, then nipping his ear. He turned his head, catching her lips and kissing her hard in response.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Kirby watched Liz bounce from her room to the bathroom and back again, getting ready for her dinner with Vivienne.

  “Honey, if I didn’t know better, I would think this was a date.” He went into the kitchen and poured a glass of wine for himself and one for Liz. He set it on the bathroom counter. She was fussing with her hair, and he put down the toilet lid and sat down, crossing his legs and taking a swig from his own wine glass.

  Liz made a face at him, but she picked up her own glass and clinked it against his. “I don’t know if it is or not. But, I know that I want to have a good time, and I want her to think I’m wonderful.”

  “How could she not?”

  “Thanks, darling. I have to admit that it’s nice to have someone new as a friend, especially since Lisa’s gearing up to move. I haven’t had a chance to tell you who looked at the house.” She sat on the edge of the tub with her wine in hand. She wanted to steady herself.

&n
bsp; Kirby shrugged. “Who?”

  “That reporter—Vaughn Morris. He called right after I got back into town. Running into him was a complete coincidence. There’s no way he could have known I was painting over there. He and his wife showed up with the realtor.”

  “How did you find out who he was?”

  “They were touring the place and he saw my signature on the mural. I think he already knew, though. He kept looking at me. My picture is easy to access online. Have you tried Googling me?”

  Kirby laughed. “Oh, sweetheart, I gave up Googling girls long before I met you.” After they toasted to that, he got serious. “Are you going to talk to him? Do you want me to talk to him?”

  Liz assured him that she was fine. “I talked to Vivienne about it, and she offered to be there when I meet him. I’d like you there too, of course, but I think Vivienne will be a good distraction for me. I’m sure he’d like to talk to you, too. I have his card; I figured I’d call him and set something up at the bar.”

  “Sounds good. Hey, you better finish that glass of wine and brush it off your teeth so she doesn’t know what a lush you are. I can walk with you and drop you off if we leave shortly; I’m headed to the bar to see how things are going over there.”

  They had agreed to meet at Bennachin, an African restaurant on Royal Street. The space was small and cozy, and Liz and Vivienne both thought it was funny that they had never crossed paths there, as it was a favorite spot they shared. As Kirby dropped her off at the door, she could see that Vivienne was already there, comfortable and chatting with the waiter. She smiled when she saw Liz at the door.

  “I was just putting in an order for some Akara. Does that sound good to you?”

  “Are you kidding? Those are the best thing in the world. I’ll have a glass of the gingero, too.”

  Kirby hoped it was a date as he walked off. The way that both women’s faces lit up when they saw each other gave him some hope for Liz. He’d not seen her shine that way in a long time.

  As the two women settled in for dinner, across town, Vaughn rubbed Audrey’s feet. Two days of house hunting had worn both of them out.

  “Let’s each make a short list of three houses out of the ones we’ve seen and see if we’re on the same page,” Audrey suggested. Vaughn laughed to himself because he already knew they were; Audrey wasn’t good at hiding her reactions as they toured the houses, and he knew that the house where he’d met Liz was the top of her list.

  “We could do that, or we could just talk about making an offer on the house on Prytania.” He smiled as she hit him on the head with a throw pillow.

  “Great! Is it that obvious that I want that house? It’s in great shape, and I know it’s a little bit more than what we said we wanted to pay, but it’s also the right size and we could just move in without having to do a lot of work. I even bet that the painter could have the mural done before closing.”

  “About the painter. I didn’t want to say anything before we decided if we wanted the house, before you told me for sure, because I didn’t want you to think I was just trying to see her again.”

  “Well, she was cute, but you know I’m not the jealous type. What’s the deal? You think pregnancy brain might make me a raging jealous type?”

  Vaughn laughed. “No, it’s not that at all. The painter just happens to be Elizabeth Camp.”

  “Are you kidding me? What are the odds of that? You just running into her while we’re looking at houses? Please tell me you talked to her.”

  Vaughn breathed a sigh of relief. He should have known that Audrey would understand and want him to get the interview. He nodded. “I did; remember when I went to get the tape measure? It was mainly an excuse to catch her downstairs without the realtor knowing. I’m hoping to hear back from her; I left my card and told her I’ll leave it up to her for now. When I got back from the car, she was nowhere to be seen.”

  “I bet she comes around.” Audrey pulled her foot out of Vaughn’s lap, replacing it with her other foot. “So, I guess we need to talk offers on the house, huh? I was thinking of starting at $10,000 under the asking price and seeing what happens.”

  “Sounds good to me. I totally trust you to handle Misty on this one. Call me if you need back up. My plan for tomorrow is to spend the day over at the prison with Wren, seeing what else I can find out from her.” He tickled her foot. “I was also thinking about going to the Casbah to check out her old dance partner’s show, if you want to come along.”

  She sat up and kissed him on the lips. “Come to the bedroom with me and I’ll give you a show, Mr. Morris.”

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Vivienne picked up the dinner tab. When Liz protested, Vivienne said simply, “I hear there’s this great little bar where I can get a good drink.”

  Once the receipt was signed and a healthy tip left for the waiter, they headed toward The Ruby, first going to Governor Nichols and then down onto Chartres first, walking past the Ursuline Convent. Liz shuddered a bit as they passed and Vivienne sensed her unease. “You ok? I always thought the convent grounds looked lovely at night.”

  Liz nodded. “Yeah, I’m ok. I was just thinking about this story that I heard on a tour the other day about the casket girls; do you know the story? I haven’t been by here at night since, and I guess my imagination just got the best of me.”

  Vivienne smiled. “That story is interesting, but I think it’s strictly urban legend. It makes for good tour guide fodder, I guess. There is still some honor in having a casket girl in your lineage. I get creeped out by the true story of how they were basically shipped over here to marry and guaranteed to be virgins. That kind of marrying off seems too close to slavery to me. I can’t imagine having choices like that made for me.”

  Liz noticed that Vivienne grew quiet after that. She looped her arm through Vivienne’s as they made the corner at Chartres and Ursulines. They stayed arm in arm until they walked in the doorway at The Ruby. Kirby set them up with shots of rum and winked at Liz as he set them down.

  It was early yet. The bar was busy, but not overly so. Vivienne broke her silence after Kirby left them alone.

  “Can I share a story with you, Liz? I need to talk to someone, and the story is so crazy, I’m afraid you’ll think I’m loopy.”

  Liz was surprised. “Trust me, I have no room to judge anyone else’s stories these days.” She grinned at Vivienne. “After all, you’ve seen me possessed in my own bar, and let’s not even get started on what happened to my last girlfriend or my crazy dreams lately.”

  Vivienne laughed. “Well, you’ve got me there.” She played with her napkin. “It’s my grandmother. She’s pressuring me to take on some of her clients and to start working closely with her.”

  Liz nodded. “Are you worried she’s ill or that she might be depressed?”

  Vivienne shook her head. “No; I’m worried she’s going to get rid of me.”

  “How do you mean?”

  Vivienne wouldn’t look at her; instead, she stared at her hands and shook her head, quietly saying, “It’s too crazy. But, I think she wants to take over my life.”

  When Liz didn’t respond, she kept going. “My mother killed herself right after I turned 18. I was away at school, but my brother, Christophe, was still living with her and my grandmother when it happened. Everyone assumed that she killed herself because our father is a married man who never left his wife to marry my mother, but she claimed that it was because my grandmother was trying to take over her life through some process that must be similar to possession by the Loa.” When she stopped, she looked up at Liz, trying to gauge her reaction. She was surprised that Liz simply seemed to be listening and didn’t seem to be reacting in a way that indicated she thought the story was crazy or implausible.

  “Did your mother talk to you about it?”

  “She left a letter, but it’s pretty vague. I dismissed it as a delusion, but I’m not so sure. Christophe seems to think it is true, and the other night, on the anniversary of her de
ath, she came to me in a dream.” She drained her shot of rum. “I feel compelled to do something, but I’m not sure what to do. I have already confronted my grandmother about it, and she just goes on and on about how I have been given a gift and I should claim it. I don’t want to stir up more anger in the family. My mother’s passing was hard on her. It was hard on all of us.”

  Liz nodded. “Well, for what it’s worth, one reason I didn’t tell the reporter to get lost the other day is because maybe I can help him understand Alex better. Maybe you should go talk to your father? True or not, I would think your mother would have talked to him or he would have noticed something.”

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Auguste Bellot was a bit surprised when his daughter called him up and asked him if he could meet for coffee. Rosalie had been on his mind more than usual given the anniversary of her suicide. He’d wanted to call Vivienne and Christophe so they could share their memories and grief over their loss, but he knew that Marie would want them close to her. He’d seen them all together at Mass.

  Auguste loved his children, but because of Marie’s control over her daughter and because of his own wife’s feelings, the relationship was always strained when they were younger. His wife, Delia, knew of Rosalie and of the children, and she had never been able to have children of her own. Perhaps that’s why she never left him; he often wondered if she felt that her inability to bear his children was a fault as bad as his own infidelity. They didn’t really speak of it.

  He knew Delia would be out running errands the next day, so he’d suggested that Vivienne simply come to the house. Delia had met the children on numerous occasions, but he still hoped to spare her as much pain as possible. This close to the anniversary of Rosalie’s death he knew he was already perceptibly quiet and withdrawn as he mourned for her; he didn’t want to add another reminder of it by having Delia play hostess to Rosalie’s daughter.