Chapter 26
26
THE SMELL OF FREEDOM AND SALAMI floated in the air. Today had been the final day of school. No more carpooling, getting Hayley up and out the door in our morning rush, no ensuring she stayed on top of her homework, and no last-minute projects involving mad dashes to Walgreens for posterboards.
We were celebrating with Micah tonight over dinner at our place. It had been three days since I’d seen him. Since Ryan stole our sous chef. With my and Hayley’s southern regions being at war, neither of us had wanted to venture out. Especially me, after I’d unexpectedly covered two waitressing shifts today. Pizza had been delivered, and I’d slid the boxes into the oven to keep them warm until Micah arrived. Look at me using the oven!
Hayley snuggled with Precious on the sofa watching an old episode of Monk . Despite my heavy eyelids, I sat before my laptop at the dining table, making last-minute revisions to my new business plan based on the feedback from my CPA. Tomorrow held another venture capitalists’ event, and the hope of plan D still being a success. A deep yawn ripped loose.
My phone rang, Micah’s name appearing on the screen, and I answered. “Hey.”
“I can’t make it.” Concern infused his tone.
I stiffened. “What’s wrong?”
“My dad rolled his ankle. He can’t put any weight on it, and it’s swelling.”
I scooted my chair back and stood. “Where are you?”
“About to leave his place and head to Touro.”
The closest hospital. The one I’d taken Mawmaw to so many times. Placing a hand on the table, I steadied myself. I’d known stepping into this sort of moment was coming. I’d been praying steadily over it. I just didn’t think it would arrive so fast. “Umm...” My gaze sailed to Hayley, who’d paused the TV, her attention on me. Thank goodness she could be left home on her own. “I’ll meet you there.”
“No. There’s no need. I just didn’t want y’all waiting for me.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive. I’ll call you later, okay?”
An automatic pinch of relief hit, and I hated it. “Okay.”
He disconnected, and I lowered to my chair, opposing emotions vacillating. The past warring with the present.
Hayley rose from the sofa. “What’s going on?”
“Mr. Gary hurt his ankle. Micah’s taking him to the hospital.”
“So it’s not serious?”
“Doesn’t seem to be.” A slight lie for her sake, especially considering Mr. Gary’s condition. Lord, please don’t let it be serious.
She set Precious to the floor and ambled through the kitchen, helping herself to the pizza. Precious shadowed her every move, her nails pitter-pattering against the wood.
I returned my attention to the Word document and the final tweaks I needed to make. But all I could focus on was the handful of times I’d been in the Touro ER with Mawmaw. Sitting in freezing exam rooms. Her lying there, pale and fragile. The beeping of the monitors. Waiting-waiting-waiting for test results or to talk to the doctor.
Name one good thing .
I pulled in a breath, my back leaning against the wooden chair. I’d had Claire. During those ER visits, we’d clasped hands in the hallway and prayed. Drank horrible hospital coffee. And cried on each other’s shoulders when we’d been told it was time for hospice. But we’d done it all together. I rubbed the tip of my nose, blinking myself into the present. Micah’s sister would be with him. He didn’t need me. Although ... I bit my lower lip, my pulse hastening. From what he’d said before, I wasn’t sure. He’d been adamant about giving Renee a real break from caring for their dad.
God, what do I do? I haven’t stepped foot inside that hospital since ... I screwed my eyes shut. This wasn’t about me or what I could handle. Right, Lord? And I have Your strength to draw on . I nodded to myself and closed the screen on the laptop with a decided click. “I’m going to the hospital.”
I was a blur of movement, shoving my feet into sneakers, grabbing my purse, and hurdling out the door and down the stairs. At the landing, I screeched to a halt. A lump of green feathers flailed in the trap net. My audible gasp echoed through the courtyard. After three weeks, we’d gotten one! From the smaller body size, I knew it wasn’t Cést Fou, but I still counted it a victory.
Adrenaline surging, I retrieved my phone and called the wildlife specialist number I’d been given. “Hi!” My breathlessness nearly shouted the word. “This is Kate Landry from Beignets & Books. We caught a parrot. In one of your traps.”
“Okay.” The person who’d answered clearly wasn’t as excited. “I need you to keep an eye on it until we can get someone there.”
My pounding heart sank. “Do you know how long that’ll take?”
The sound of a drink being gulped carried over the line. “Hmm, a couple hours? Our on-call agent is picking up a gator in Mandeville right now. He can swing by after.”
“He’s going to bring an alligator here?”
“Don’t worry. It’ll be restrained in the back of his truck.”
Tension wound through my shoulders, coiling up my neck. I bullied the Crease. There was no way I could leave. Not with Hayley upstairs alone and an alligator on the way.
“I need to forewarn you, since this is after hours, there’s going to be an extra charge.”
I huffed my bangs from my eyes. Of course there was.
Saturday arrived, along with a warm front heralding the return of full humidity and higher temps. Not-so-perfect for today’s outdoor library event. Also not ideal? The theme. Dogs in literature. Attendees were encouraged to bring their friendly, sociable canines. When Hayley and Micah had settled on that premise, a tiny ache had begun in the depths of my eye sockets.
Keeping my thoughts from spiraling over my courtyard being overrun by animals was the uplifting news reaped from yesterday’s venture capitalist function. I’d finally scored interest from an investor and had been offered a private meeting to further discuss my business plan. Unfortunately, due to a tight schedule involving the investor going out of the country for the summer, they could only meet this morning at ten. Not the best timing with the library event starting at one but still manageable.
Before leaving, I’d helped Hayley prepare the courtyard. We’d moved the parrot trap and hauled out the event tables from the storage shed, setting one up with dog treats donated by library patrons. Another would hold human treats. Similar to the last two events, we’d also set up an arts-and-crafts table. Dissimilar to the last two events, we’d arranged a doggie poop station, complete with waste bags and a lidded trash can. I’d showered, changed into my most professional skirt suit, and darted out the door, ensuring I arrived for the meeting fifteen minutes early.
With my pulse galloping, I’d checked in with security at the front desk of a Poydras Street skyscraper. The guard had told me to “get comfortable,” and man oh man, had he been right. I’d waited in the lobby for two hours, pacing, stewing, calculating the absolute latest I could leave and still make it back to the café. At noon I’d been brought up to the fortieth floor and sat through another hour of the investor complaining about a recent venture before getting to my business plan. In the end he’d wanted way too much equity and had too little respect for my time in keeping me waiting because he’d had “a late start” to his day. If that meeting was a precursor to a working relationship with the man, I’d pass.
With a heavy and irritated heart, I sped home and rushed through the courtyard gate, stepping into what looked to be an after-party for the Westminster dog show. Canines in various shapes and sizes darted here and there, their lighthearted barks filling the air. Kindergarteners through preteens, along with their parents, meandered through the space, everyone with smiles on their faces.
Micah stood on the back porch, speaking to a woman holding a tiny poodle. Yesterday morning I’d dropped off beignets and café au lait at his house for him and his dad. By the time Crocodile Dundee had shown up the night before and carted off the parrot, Mr. Gary had been released from the hospital. His previous mild ankle sprain had graduated to small tears in his ligaments, and he’d been relegated back to a wheelchair. They’d headed straight to Micah’s. It turned out his rental had an ADA-compliant addition built on the rear of the house. A type of mother-in-law suite. It was one of the reasons he’d chosen the place over his other options.
Hayley and Emma oversaw a game of cornhole on the side stretch of grass. Mrs. Adélaide, who’d taken a keen interest in regularly visiting the courtyard since Cést Fou’s appearance, sat in a grouping of chairs, reading a Clifford the Big Red Dog book to several children. She hadn’t yet renewed her concealed-carry permit, so I hadn’t had to worry about her toting her revolver.
My gaze moved to the crafts table, surprise parting my lips. Julia praised a little girl as she finished her construction-paper slinky dog. The child skipped to her dad, proudly showing her work of art. Julia waved at me, her hand connected to Precious’s leash. The dogs in the courtyard had to be on leashes, a must to ensure they didn’t escape via the wraparound porch and out the front gate if a café customer left it open. A temporary safety fence had been erected on the side lawn, giving the four-legged creatures a free area to roam.
I approached Julia, setting my purse and leather business portfolio on a clear spot on the table, grateful today’s activity didn’t involve glitter. “I didn’t know you were coming.” I checked the folding chair before lowering onto it. Precious immediately scratched at my legs, and I lifted her to my lap.
Julia passed the leash handle. “Hayley texted last night, asking if I could help.”
“Oh.” That stung. I rubbed Precious’s ear. “Well, thank you. I’d planned to be here sooner, but my appointment ran late.”
“Was this appointment part of plan D, or have you moved on to plans E, F, or G?”
“Har, har. I’m still on plan D. It was a meeting with a potential investor.”
Julia reached across the table, gathering a pair of rogue googly eyes, returning them to their rightful bin. “How’d it go?”
I gave a thumbs-down.
Her face scrunched. “Sorry.”
With a shrug, I let my attention wander, needing to focus on better things. A terrier snatched one of the beanbags from the cornhole game, a boisterous round of laughter erupting from those nearby. Hayley ran after the thief. On this side of the safety fence, a boy lost his hold on his Labrador and shrieked. The dog beelined for the treat table, snagging a Milk-Bone and gobbling it, giving the kid enough time to grab its leash. Precious curled into a ball, closing her eyes and tucking her nose beneath her back leg. How she could nap in the midst of this melee was a mystery.
Several feet away I spied a puddle of liquid on the brick pavers. “Please tell me that’s spilled juice.”
Julia followed my line of vision, her lips pursing to one side. “It certainly could be.”
A beagle on a retractable leash approached the puddle, sniffed, and promptly squatted over it. My head tipped back. “And Hayley wants to open the courtyard to dogs on a weekly basis.”
“Speaking of Hayley...” Julia’s brows lifted, and she began cracking her knuckles, a telltale sign of her nervousness.
Oh no.
Her expression softened. “What happened to you being a part of these events to get closer to her?”
My belly clenched. “I was a part of it.” I ran my finger over the purple stitching of Precious’s body harness. “Sort of. I helped set up before I left and tried to be back in time.”
“I know you did. But from the way Hayley was talking, other than today, you haven’t been involved.”
“Well...” Perspiration gathered along my skin, and I shrugged out of my suit jacket, careful not to jostle Precious. “She and Micah handled this one.”
“I got the impression she didn’t just mean this event.”
Oof .
Julia scooted her chair closer. “She said when you’re home, you’re always on your laptop. And it’s not for fun.”
“Spreadsheets can be fun,” I mumbled, folding and draping my jacket over my purse, keeping it out of reach from wandering dogs.
She studied me, her forehead creasing. “I’m worried about you.”
“Why?”
“Hayley also said you’re not eating as much.”
Shock struck, sharp and searing. My gaze drifted to Hayley, who handed a beanbag to a little girl. It appeared her teenage attention span had expanded well past her phone and Precious. And I shouldn’t have been surprised, considering she’d picked up on me and Micah before there even was a me and Micah. “I tend to lose my appetite when I’m stressed.”
“I know, which is why I’m bringing it up.”
The backs of my thighs began sweating. I readjusted Precious. For not having hair and being a little speck, she sure radiated a ton of heat.
“What I’m about to say isn’t a complaint. It’s out of love.” Sincerity shone in her features, her gentle tone. “You’ve canceled on our weekly beignet date the last four Fridays.”
I could feel the Crease puckering. Had it really been that many times?
“And the last few weeks at church, I’ve noticed a change. You’re distracted, and you’ve got this going on.” She motioned under her eyes. “Which makes me think you’re not sleeping.”
Heat prickled up my neck. “I’m sleeping.”
Her head tipped sideways. “Hayley said you’re sleep talking. A lot.”
Sheesh . When had Hayley become the mouth of the South? I pinched my white blouse at my ribs, pumping the material to get the air flowing.
“Mumbling about income statements and comparative data.”
I winced, releasing my shirt. It seemed the dreams about pitching my business plan hadn’t remained inside my brain. Which made sense. I always dreamed more when stressed. Plus, I hadn’t had time to exercise the past few weeks to help release that tension. Between the networking functions during the day and keeping up with café responsibilities at night and on the weekends, something had had to give.
My phone’s calendar alert chimed, jolting me and Precious. I leapt for my purse. What was I supposed to be doing now? Had I forgotten something?
“Steady, girl.” Julia leaned forward, pulling her phone from her back pocket. “That was me.” She shot me a look, tapped her device’s screen, and set it on the table. Her vision shifted to my business portfolio, her eyes narrowing. She reached, pinching the corner of a protruding sheet of paper, tugging it free. It was the list of plans and tasks revolving around the purchase of the Vieux Carré Café.
My heart skittered to a stop.
“‘Annihilate Ryan’?” She held the page up, pointing at the header at the top. “I knew it. You’re running yourself ragged, and for what? To beat your ex?”
I snatched the page from her, returning it to the folder, earning a glare from Precious for all of the jostling. “Ryan stole our sous chef this week.”
“ What ?” Her head quickly drew back. “I’m so sorry to hear that.”
I absently rubbed one of Precious’s ears. “Regardless of Ryan, if you look at this analytically, all I’m doing is taking the plans Claire and I made and moving them up, ensuring we get her dream location. Sticking it to Ryan is lagniappe.”
She tossed me her mom-look. “Sister, I think you’re fooling yourself. From where I’m sitting, it seems you’re letting Ryan dictate your actions. Or really, reactions. Why are you giving him that control?”
I bristled.
“Do you honestly need to open another restaurant now? Or ever?”
The enormous head of a husky poked between us, its hot breath panting on my arm. It gave Precious a sniff and was pulled away by its owner. I plucked the white fur it had shed on my gray skirt.
Julia brushed several hairs from her black shorts as well. “If this truly is about Claire and the roles were reversed, wouldn’t you want her to be happy over keeping business plans y’all created a lifetime ago?”
“Of course I would.” I plucked another hair with a little too much gusto, flicking it to the ground. “But this will make me happy.”
Julia expelled a deep sigh, concern etched in her features. “Will it make Hayley happy?”
Everything within me stilled.
“Your relationship with her has gotten so much better. It’d be a shame to lose that. And if she’s telling me how busy you’ve been, asking me to step in today, that’s saying something.”
Eyes stinging, I searched for and found Hayley. My heart beat heavy in my chest.
Julia laid her hand atop mine. “I know you’ve been praying on this.”
“I have. And asking for His will to be done.”
“And possibly ignoring His will?”
The heat accosting me since arriving dissipated, a chill slipping in. I slid my hand from her grasp.
“What if all of these roadblocks are God’s way of answering you? From that wild bird wreaking havoc, Ryan’s reemergence and shadiness, the grant and SBA loan getting denied, the fryer breaking, and today’s meeting being a bust?”
A brick of disappointment stacked on my shoulders with each setback she’d named, and I tried to ignore the burning in my throat.
Julia offered a hesitant smile. “Just because God says not now , doesn’t mean not ever .”