Chapter 27
27
JULIA HAD GOTTEN UNDER MY SKIN. Her blunt words lurked like an underground pimple refusing to fully surface. Growing bigger and more tender with each of the six days that had passed. Especially her insight with Hayley. Plain and simple, I’d been cut to the heart. So much so I’d skipped half of this week’s networking events and experienced an odd withdrawal from all the hurry-hurry-hurrying I’d been doing the past five weeks.
It was now Friday morning, and after being pulled from my office to deal with a disgruntled customer, my concentration had been shot. I headed through the back doors for my prayer spot in the courtyard. I should power through my next task, but the world wouldn’t crumble if I didn’t update our social media accounts with today’s new content. And at the very least I could do it tonight.
My thoughts paused, remembering what Hayley had told Julia. This past week I’d started waiting until Hayley went to bed to catch up on work. Which meant even less sleep. I pressed a fingertip below my eye, knowing Julia was right about my lack of slumber. If I did purchase the Vieux Carré Café, I’d have no choice but to work evenings and nights to keep up with the hectic duties of running a restaurant. Scratch that. Running two restaurants. Where would that leave time with Hayley? Or even Micah? My heart sank.
Vivid green caught in my periphery vision and I turned, finding a motionless lump beneath the trip net. A hushed gasp escaped my lips. Cést Fou? Slowly, I tiptoed toward the mound of feathers. With its wings tucked in, and lying on its stomach, only its back showed. It had the size and color of the feathered monster, but I couldn’t see its face. That distinct mark of bright teal on its cheek. Was it dead? Had the net induced a bird heart attack? I scraped my bottom lip between my teeth. If only I had a stick to poke him with. Glancing about, I came up empty. I could fetch the rake or a broom, but that would involve retrieving the keys to the shed, which lay all the way upstairs. I inched closer, hovering over its body, catching the teeniest sight of its teal stripe.
My mouth fell open. So it was Cést Fou. After three months of the stress and aggravation he’d inflicted on me, I had him. It was over. Except ... the euphoria I’d anticipated in this moment somehow rang hollow. It seemed odd to see him like this. With his eyes closed. Still and lifeless. The other parrot we’d captured had flailed under the net. Had that bird been Cést Fou’s mate? Had Cést Fou willingly allowed himself to be captured in order to be reunited? Or come here and died of a broken heart at missing his partner? I placed my hand to my breastbone, a slight twinge cramping my heart. I hadn’t meant for Cést Fou to die. Leaning closer I surveyed the bird, hoping for a sign of life. That maybe Cést Fou could have a happily ever after with his mate at that sanctuary. Goodness knew I wanted a happy ending. I wouldn’t want Micah ripped out of my life, not when—
Cést Fou’s eyes popped open, and his head whipped around. The demon bird screeched, flapping against the netting.
I screamed, jumping back. Had it been playing possum? Executing one last act of meanness? “Evil! You’re pure evil!”
Another shriek pierced my eardrums.
The back door to the café swung open, Mrs. Adélaide emerging, sans her purse. “You got him!” She pumped her fist in the air, the sagging skin beneath her arm jiggling. “I can’t believe it.” She held on to the railing, taking the steps one at a time in her orthopedic sandals.
With my pulse pounding, I made a quick call to the wildlife specialist, informing them of the capture.
Mrs. Adélaide neared, sizing up the thrashing bird. A scathing string of Cajun French poured from her lips, ending with a hiss.
I disconnected from the call. “The trapper’s on his way. He’s going to relocate him to Mississippi, where he took the other parrot.”
“Dis bird needs to be relocated to Hades.”
“Mrs. Adélaide!”
“’Tis true.” She purposefully stepped on a shed feather, as though stomping out a cigarette.
I tipped my sights to the tree branches above. “How many parrots have you seen at your place? I’m hoping this will be the last of my bird woes.”
“ Deux .” She held up two fingers.
“Thank the Lord.” My shoulders relaxed, and a euphoric release of tension unfurled from my core. I hadn’t felt this good since ... well, that luau kiss Micah had surprised me with. And so, with the parrot thrashing several feet away, I called him, cutting off his hello. “We captured Cést Fou! And Mrs. Adélaide said she’s only ever seen two parrots at her place, so I think we’re in the clear!”
“That’s great,” he said. “But I can’t talk.”
I sobered. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt anything.”
“It’s fine. I just need to check on my dad. He’s not answering his phone.”
“I can do it.” The rightness of my offer settled over me, like when I’d brought breakfast to Micah and Mr. Gary the morning after his ER visit. “Do you have a spare key hidden somewhere outside?”
“You don’t need to.”
“I have nothing to do except wait for the wildlife guy to come haul Cést Fou away. And I can ask one of my employees to keep watch.”
“I’ll watch him.” Mrs. Adélaide rubbed her hands together, a gleam in her eye. “If it tries to escape, I’ll snap its neck.”
I flinched, doing a double take of the woman. Gracious .
“I’ve got it,” Micah said. “I’m already leaving the library.” A vehicle door slammed in the background, and an engine roared to life. “If I need help, I’ll let you know, okay?”
“Okay.”
He disconnected.
My arm fell to my side, frustration clouding my thoughts. I certainly wouldn’t be holding my breath on him asking for help. This past week I’d felt an internal nudge to pop in on Mr. Gary while Micah worked. But when I’d offered, he’d shot me down. Was his reluctance based on my history with Mawmaw? Or was it his own guilt over the years his sister had been solely caring for Mr. Gary? Either way, I wasn’t quite sure how to broach the topic with him.
Sunday afternoon arrived. After eating sandwiches with Hayley, I’d cut the grass, and she now helped me tend the gardens in front of the café. Or I should say, she mostly followed the butterflies, snapping pics of them with her phone. Ever since she was a toddler and had discovered the delight of butterflies, I always made sure to plant flowers that attracted them.
Sporadic traffic flowed along St. Charles Avenue, mingling with the more routine trundling of the streetcars. Kneeling on a gardening pad, I reached between a cluster of bright pink pentas, finding the base of a weed and gently pulling it free, releasing the scent of cypress mulch. The low-maintenance azaleas framing the house had finished their blooms, now providing a green backdrop to the heat-hardy flowers.
I added the weed to the growing pile of offenders and swiped my forearm across my brow, knocking my sunglasses and hat in the process. With our fair complexions and not wanting to expand our collection of freckles, Hayley and I both donned sun hats and had slathered our arms and legs in sunscreen. Hayley, ever the protective dog mom, had rubbed a layer of sunblock on Precious, citing that she’d read an article about dogs getting sunburns.
Though the front gate was closed, Precious remained on a retractable leash attached to a yard stake. We hadn’t wanted to take a chance with her tiny body squeezing through the fence posts. A sprinkler fanned back and forth on part of the lawn, and I couldn’t help but think of when Hayley was little, playing in the water while I’d weeded. She’d worn princess swimsuits and squealed when the sprinkler caught her by surprise. A bead of sweat ran into my eye, and I blinked it away, along with the treasured memory.
“I’m going to take Precious up,” Hayley said. “I think she may be getting overheated.” She unhooked the pup and carried her, disappearing down the side stretch of lawn between us and our neighbor.
Weather permitting, I tried to do maintenance like this on Sundays when the café was closed. I reached for another weed, carefully maneuvering around a honeybee going to town on a bundle of sweet alyssum. Those bees were always working. Which reminded me. Tonight, after Hayley went to sleep, I’d finish the next staff schedule. With summer here, the next few months’ schedules would be harder to maintain with people taking off for vacations. And the bigger hit of the college graduates moving on to other jobs altogether. I needed to start recruiting for their replacements, which always started with asking my most trusted employees for recommendations.
“Hello,” a feminine voice called out.
I turned, leaning back on my haunches, and found a familiar woman outside the entrance gate. “Hi.” I pushed to my feet, my back and leg muscles aching, and headed up the walkway. “I think I saw you at the last library event held here.”
“Yes, I’m Regina Claiborne.” She appeared to be in her fifties and was dressed as though she’d come from church. She gingerly rested her hand atop the locked gate. A necessity on Sundays to keep people from wandering in and around the property.
“Kate Landry.” I removed my gloves, wiggling my sweaty fingers, granting them a momentary reprieve. “I’m sorry, but we’re closed on Sundays.”
“Yes, I didn’t realize until now.” She motioned to the Closed Sundays sign hanging on the gate.
“It’s no problem.” With a slight wave, I moved to step away.
“Actually, I came by to see you.”
“You did?” I pinched the neck of my T-shirt, using it to wipe my cheeks and, hopefully, remove any mascara sweat trails.
“I’m the regional branch manager for the New Orleans Public Library.”
Slowly, my hand lowered. So she hadn’t been a parent attending the last function but Micah’s boss? Why hadn’t he told me?
“I wanted to thank you for your help in keeping the spring events going.” A car with its windows down and bass thumping slowed, pausing our conversation. It turned at the corner, its noise fading.
“You’re welcome,” I said. “But it was all Micah’s doing. He truly loves his job, and helping the kids.” And I’d love for you to hire him permanently and keep him at Hayley’s library.
Regina chuckled, her crow’s-feet deepening. “You don’t need to talk him up to me. We’re over the moon with what he did having the events here. It’s kept our patrons involved and actually increased foot traffic through his branch in the children’s demographic. And now he has his sights on reaching more adults too.”
He did?
Regina’s amber eyes lit. “He’s spearheading a new adult educational program, starting the series with you teaching an introductory business class.”
My pulse and body stilled while my mind raced. I must’ve heard her wrong. Maybe I’d been in the sun too long.
“I can’t thank you enough for how generous you’ve been with your café and your time. And now to have this on the horizon.” She beamed. “We’re all thrilled.”
A burning pain swelled in my throat, my breaths barely slipping past. Where was the Landry Mask?
“You know, when Micah first interviewed for the temporary position, we’d told him he’d need to really wow us to consider taking him on permanently, and that’s exactly what he’s done. Between the success of the spring events and now this adult education program, he’s a shoo-in for branch manager if the head librarian doesn’t return. But in all honesty, I’d like to steal him for my office.”
I could only stare, struggling to hold the Landry Mask in place, grateful for my sunglasses.
She took a step back. “Thank you again for all of your support.”
I managed a fake smile and cool nod. Mama would’ve been proud.
Regina made her way down the sidewalk, vanishing from sight.
A wave of lightheadedness struck, and I pinched my lips to keep them from trembling. Wounded betrayal spiraled through me. The déjà vu of history repeating itself. Of being used. My palms stung, and I glanced down. Found my nails digging into my skin. And on the ground, my gloves. A hot tear slid down my cheek as I reached for them.
In a fog, I retraced my path toward the café. Tossed the gloves and picked up my phone resting on the front stairs. I pulled up Micah’s number and paused. Lord, how do I handle this?
With a sigh, I sank onto the top step, grateful for the shade.
If our roles were reversed, wouldn’t I want Micah to give me the benefit of the doubt? I didn’t know this woman, other than her job title, that she owned a poodle, and that she apparently waved a Team Micah flag. But then again, how would Regina Claiborne even know about the introductory business class unless Micah had proposed it? Eyes stinging afresh with tears, I slid them shut.
My mind rewound over the past few months. How Micah wouldn’t have been able to save the spring events apart from the use of my courtyard. And everything Regina mentioned about his job security and possible promotion were things that couldn’t have been accomplished without me and my café.
Heart thudding dully in my chest, I stared at my phone, wondering if texting him would be better than calling. I could choose my words carefully. Read and pray over what I said before clicking send . The last time I’d talked to Micah was Friday, when I’d called to check on Mr. Gary. It seemed Micah had overreacted to his dad not answering his call. Mr. Gary had simply been napping. They hadn’t made it to church today, or the preceding Sunday for that matter. Soon as this morning’s service had let out, I’d messaged Micah, offering to pick up lunch. I’d thought it’d be a lift for Mr. Gary, especially since he’d been so sociable the times we’d been around him. But Micah hadn’t responded.
In fact, my previous texts to him had gone unanswered. A puff of air whooshed past my lips, and I lowered my phone to my lap. How was I supposed to work this current problem out if he wasn’t responding to the other issue already growing between us?