by Donna Hill
“And it made you into an incredible woman anyway.”
She grinned. “I’m going to have to do this damsel in distress routine more often if I’m going to get this ego boost.”
“Anytime, baby. I’ll be your knight in shining armor,” he said in a really bad British accent.
She playfully nudged him in the ribs. “Don’t give up your day job.”
They lay together in quiet. The only sound was the light hum of the central air.
“Hey, I have an idea,” Raymond said, breaking the tranquil trance that Jacqueline had slipped into.
“Hmm, what’s that?”
“Since we only have one good night in the old town, why don’t you show me around?”
She sat up a bit and looked at him. “You want to?”
“Yeah. Let’s put our stamp on Baton Rouge. You up to it?” he asked, concerned, realizing that she might not have the energy.
“Sure. Okay,” she smiled brightly. “Why not? I’ll be discovering it with you. It’s been a while since I’ve been back, but the main eating spots are still the same.”
“Great.” He sat up. He checked his watch. “It’s still early. We can hang out for a couple of hours and come back and get a good night’s sleep.”
Her lashes lowered over her eyes. “Or not,” she said, a sly smile curving the corners of her mouth.
“Oh, Ms. Lawson, don’t tempt me.” He hopped up out of bed and gave her luscious, exposed behind a playful swat. “The clock is ticking.”
Jacqueline pulled herself up out of the bed. “I’m going to take a quick shower…alone,” she warned, pointing a finger at him.
He gave her the sad puppy-dog face then quickly brightened. “Hey, no place too fancy. I didn’t bring the proper attire.” He flashed a crooked grin.
“I have just the place and they have the best beer in Louisiana. Then we can do dinner, listen to some Cajun music…”
“Now you’re talking. While you’re in the shower, I’ll book my flight to New York. What time and what airline?”
She smiled at him from the doorway of the bathroom, her heart filling with love and gratitude. “11:30. Delta.”
* * *
They drove Raymond’s rented Toyota into downtown Baton Rouge and their first stop was Port Royal on College Drive.
“It’s not what you call upscale,” Jacqueline said as they approached the front door, “but it’s fun and relaxing.”
“You forget, baby, I’m easily impressed,” he joked. He held the door open for her and they stepped inside to the sounds of zydeco.
“Welcome to Port Royal. Would you like a table or do you prefer to sit at the bar?” a young hostess greeted them.
Jacqueline turned to Raymond with a raised brow in question.
“The bar is fine,” he said.
The woman extended her hand toward the bar. “Enjoy your evening.”
Raymond took Jacqueline’s hand and they walked around dancing and bobbing bodies toward the bar and were able to grab two seats near the end.
“What can I get ya?” the bartender asked, while he wiped down the spaces in front of them with a damp white cloth. He plopped a bowl of nuts down on the counter.
“He loves beer. The best,” Jacqueline added.
“We have an excellent Austrian beer that you’ll love.”
“Stiegl?” Raymond asked, sure that they wouldn’t have it.
The bartender’s eyes widened with delight. “You know your beer. Coming right up. And for you, Miss?”
“I’m having what he’s having,” she said with a grin, hooking her thumb in Raymond’s direction.
Moments later two steins of beer were placed in front of them. “Enjoy.”
Raymond bobbed his head in appreciation as he took his first sip. “The real thing,” he murmured.
“It is good,” Jacqueline agreed, letting the icy cold brew ease down her throat.
Raymond turned to her. “How are you feeling?”
Her expression tightened. “Fine. Why?”
“Just checking, J. Don’t get yourself all worked up.”
She lifted her glass then put it back down. “Look, one of the reasons why I’ve kept this illness to myself is because I don’t like hovering. I don’t want people feeling sorry for me or treating me any differently or asking me every five minutes how I’m feeling.”
“I get it, okay? I ask because I care. I ask because I know how you are. You will push yourself to the limits.”
She pursed her lips and slowly turned the glass in a slow circle on top of the counter. She pushed out a breath. “Okay, this is how it is. I get tired. Sometimes I get so tired I feel like I can’t move. I get light-headed and sometimes I get bouts of nausea. Other times I feel fine. Like today. Like a lot of days.” She lowered her head. “I try to eat well, take my meds and rest when I can.”
“How could you have kept this from me for so long?” he asked, more hurt than upset.
She shrugged a shoulder. “It wasn’t easy.” She took a swallow of her beer. “Especially when I wasn’t feeling well.”
“I knew something was wrong. For a while I knew something was wrong. You weren’t yourself—toward me.”
“I know. And I’m sorry. I…I thought if I put up a wall, put some distance between us emotionally…and physically, that leaving would be easier.”
He turned on his stool so that he could look directly at her. “Was it?”
She shook her head. “No. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.”
Raymond covered her hand with his. “I’m really glad you said that. If you told me it was easy…”
She lifted his hand and pressed her lips against his knuckles. “I’m glad you came. I really am,” she admitted.
“Me, too.”
“How’s the beer?” the bartender asked, interrupting their moment.
“Excellent.” Raymond raised his glass to him. “Great suggestion.”
“You folks let me know if you need anything else.”
“Thanks,” Jacqueline said.
Raymond took a look around. “Pretty nice place and you were right about the beer.”
“Told ya. Let me know when you get hungry and we can get going to the restaurant.”
“Ready when you are.”
They finished off their beers, paid the tab and headed out.
“Things are kind of spread out in Baton Rouge, not like New Orleans. But we have our share of nightspots. Make the next left,” she directed. “And no matter where you go in Louisiana, the food is really phenomenal.”
“I’ve been to NOLA for Mardi Gras about fifteen years ago. Now that was a wild experience,” he said, laughter filling his voice.
“Yeah, it gets all kinds of crazy out there. It’s on the next street on your right.”
Raymond eased the car onto the tight street and lucked out on a parking space. He got out and helped Jacqueline from the car. He looped his arm around her waist and they walked inside.
The cool dim interior was dotted with tables and booths, a dance floor and small stage with a four-piece jazz band was playing.
“Good evening. Do you have a reservation?” a model-perfect hostess asked. Her all-black attire hugged her slender figure.
“No, we don’t have reservations,” Jacqueline said. “But we’d like a table for two.”
“Sure. The wait will be about twenty minutes.”
“No problem. We can wait,” Raymond said, bobbing his head to the music.
“There’s a lounge upstairs and a small bar.”
“Great.”
“Can I have your name?”
“Jordan,” Raymond said.
“Someone will call you when your table is ready.”
>
Raymond took Jacqueline’s hand and they walked upstairs. The upper lounge was as crowded as the main floor.
“Busy place,” Raymond commented, looking over heads for a seat.
“It will be worth the wait,” Jacqueline assured.
They walked around couples and groups of night-clubbers.
“Isn’t that your nephew over there?” Raymond asked, lifting his chin in the direction of a small group.
Jacqueline followed Raymond’s gaze and settled on her nephew. Rafe was in a lively conversation at the bar with two women. As always, he was effortlessly charming, dividing his attention between the two lovelies.
Jacqueline and Raymond walked over.
“Rafe. . .”
He glanced over his shoulder and his face lit up. He got up from the cushioned bar stool. “Aunt J.” He kissed her cheek. “Ray, right?” He stuck out his hand, which Raymond shook.
“What are you doing here? Are you okay? I mean…”
Jacqueline smiled. “I’m feeling pretty good. I wanted to show Raymond around. We’re waiting on a table for dinner.”
“Excuse my bad manners. Cherise, Linda this is my fabulous aunt Jacquie.” Jacqueline blushed. “And her friend Ray.”
“Nice to meet you,” they said in unison.
“Hey, listen, no need to wait for a table. I have one reserved right up front. You can sit there.”
“I don’t want to impose on you and your friends,” Jacqueline said.
“No imposition. It’s for me and the guys in the band.”
“The band?”
He grinned. “Yeah, I forget you’ve been away for a while. I play with a band. Sax. Much to my father’s great dismay,” he added with a sly grin.
“I can imagine,” Jacqueline said, a tinge of sarcasm in her tone. “Sure. If it’s okay with the band.” She looked to Raymond for confirmation.
“Cool with me,” Ray said.
“Great. I’ll let Yvette know.”
“Yvette?”
“The hostess.”
“How long have you been playing here?”
“Hmm, usually one weekend a month. Guess you lucked out. It’s my one weekend.” He lifted his glass of bourbon from the bar. “Ladies, as always it was a pleasure.” He buzzed both of their cheeks then led the way back downstairs. He found Yvette, who quickly got Jacqueline and Raymond settled at the table where two of Rafe’s band members were seated before their set.
“Mike, Percy, this is my aunt Jacqueline. So watch your mouths,” he joked. “And her friend Ray Jordan.”
Ray shook hands with the men while Jacqueline nodded in greeting. He helped her into her seat.
“Whatever you want is on the house,” Yvette said.
Jacqueline’s brows rose. “Oh.” She stole a quick look at Rafe who winked at her. “Thank you.”
“Can I get you a drink?” She looked from one to the other.
“I’ll take a white wine spritzer,” Jacqueline said.
“What are you drinking, Rafe?” Raymond asked.
“I’m a straight bourbon man.”
“Bourbon sounds good,” he said to Yvette.
“I’ll have your waitress bring them right over.” She gave Rafe a secret smile as she departed and he followed her every move then turned back to the gathering at the table.
“The crawfish is the best in the city,” Rafe said.
“I remember,” Jacqueline said, picking up her menu. “And the étouffée.” Her eyes rolled to the top of her head in delight.
Mike and Percy chuckled.
“I’m game. I haven’t had an authentic Cajun meal in ages,” Raymond said.
“You won’t be disappointed.”
“Fellas, we need to get set up,” Rafe said as he rose from his seat. His band members followed suit.
“Nice meeting you both,” Mike said.
“Enjoy the show,” Percy added.
“That was a surprise,” Jacqueline said, once they were gone.
“You mean about Rafe?”
She nodded. “I mean I knew he fooled around with music but I had no idea that he was doing it semi-
professionally. Branford must have nightmares at night about it.” She sipped her drink.
“Why?”
Jacqueline’s brows knitted for a bit. “Rafe was supposed to be the heir apparent to the Lawson political throne. Since Rafe was a kid, whatever Branford wanted him to do, he did the opposite. It would infuriate him. When he got into his teens he became even more rebellious. He chose his own path. I think in a strange way as much as my brother railed against Rafe’s behavior, he grudgingly admires his son for standing up to him.”
Raymond studied her over the rim of her glass, mildly amused at her take on her nephew. “Sounds a lot like you.”
Her gaze jumped to his. Her mouth pinched into a smile. “Guess that’s why we always got along. Kindred spirits.”
“Ready to order?” their waitress asked, appearing at their side.
“You do the honors,” Raymond said.
Jacqueline ordered the étouffée and a side of crawfish, just as the MC announced the next set.
The houselights dimmed and the spotlight shone down on the assembled band, with Rafe up front. They launched into their rendition of Grover Washington Jr.’s “Mr. Magic.”
“He’s good,” Raymond said, tapping his foot to the familiar rhythm.
Jacqueline grinned with pride. Then they segued to John Coltrane’s “My Favorite Things,” followed by Coleman Hawkins’ “Indian Summer” and wrapped it up with Coltrane’s “Love Supreme,” to the roar of the crowd.
Raymond was on his feet like much of the crowd when the set came to its rousing conclusion.
“Wow, that brother can blow,” he said, taking his seat.
“I had no idea,” Jacqueline said, awed by her nephew’s prowess on the soprano sax.
Moments later the trio made their way through the crowd, stopping along the way to shake hands, accept back slaps and accolades. They split up halfway to the table and it was Rafe who joined Jacqueline and Raymond.
Raymond stood halfway and greeted him. “Awesome job, man.”
“We try,” Rafe said, sitting down then leaning back in his chair, still hyped by his performance.
Jacqueline leaned over and covered his hand. “Fabulous,” she said on a breath. Her eyes glowed.
“Thanks. Means a lot coming from you, Aunt J.”
“Do you only play in Louisiana?” Raymond asked.
“Mostly in New Orleans. We’ve had some offers to come up to the jazz clubs in New York. I played in Paris last spring.” He shrugged nonchalantly. “Things are opening up. But New Orleans is still the home of jazz.”
“You ever think about recording?”
“Hmm, I’ve been asked.” He shook his head. “Not really interested in getting all tied up with someone else’s demands and time schedules. I don’t want this to become a job.”
Jacqueline bit back a smile and wondered if he’d feel the same way if he didn’t have the Lawson money behind him.
The waiter brought their meal and asked what Rafe wanted. He ordered another bourbon and decided to nibble on the crawfish.
“So, Aunt J.” His eyes darted to Raymond for a minute then back to his aunt. “Have you changed your mind?”
Chapter 15
The mood at the table shifted.
Jacqueline looked down at her plate. “No. We’re leaving for New York day after tomorrow.”
Rafe studied her for a moment. “You plan on seeing the family before you go?”
“I’ll call Dom and Justin. I’m seeing you now.” She forced a smile. “Lee Ann is back in D.C. and Desi is on her honeymoon.”
>
“So you really aren’t going to see my father?”
“No. There’s no reason to see Branford. He made it clear when he saw me at the wedding that I wasn’t welcome.”
Raymond took a mouthful of food, chewed slowly before he spoke. “She’s stubborn.”
She threw him a look that he ignored.
“Family trait,” Rafe quipped.
“I’m not going to sit here and have the two of you gang up on me.”
“Never let it be said that I ganged up on a lady.” Rafe winked and slowly stood. “Take good care of her,” he said to Raymond.
“I intend to.” He stood up and shook Rafe’s hand with both of his. “Thanks, man,” he said quietly.
“Let me know how she’s doing.”
“I will.”
Rafe rounded the table and leaned down to kiss his aunt’s cheek. “Call me…or something.”
She smiled up at him. “I will. Thank you for everything, Rafe. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t been there.”
“Don’t stay away so long next time.”
She squeezed his hand before he turned and walked away.
“Can I get you anything else?” their waiter asked.
“No, I think we’re good,” Raymond said, “unless you want something else, J.”
“No. Thanks.”
“I hope you enjoyed your meal. Please come again.”
The busboy appeared and began taking their plates.
“Let’s walk off this food,” Jacqueline suggested.
“Sure.”
Once outside it was a typical Louisiana night. A warm breeze blew in from the Mississippi leaving the air muggy, the skin slightly damp and hair curling up at the back of your neck.
The sky was incredibly clear and the sound of music and the scent of food were part of the nightlife.
“I was always intrigued by the mystique of Louisiana,” Raymond said. He held Jacqueline’s hand then tucked it in the curve of his arm. “The stories of the bayou, the houses of ill repute.” He laughed. “The food, of course the music, and the twist of the language.”
“Hmm, you forgot vampires.”
He tossed his head back and laughed. “Right.” He turned to look at her. “What were you like as a young girl?”