Chapter 31 #5
“It was scary coming out of the fog just as some gangsters jumped out of a car with Tommy guns and killed two men on the street. I thought one of them was you. When the shooting started, I ducked. Skye was also in the wrong place at the wrong time, so she yanked me out of there.”
“I’m so sorry you had to go through that. How’d you figure out I wasn’t dead?”
“Before we left, we went to look at the dead men.”
“Shit, Marcelle. What happened then?” Bastien asked.
“We just about emptied my flask of whisky before we got to the speakeasy where she worked.”
“You don’t even drink whisky.”
“I do now.”
“Then what?”
“We discovered the trumpeter in Skye’s band was drunk, so I filled in for him. Capone was in the house to hear the show. He’s a man accustomed to getting what he wants, and he wanted Skye’s band to work for him.”
“That had to have been scary as shit to come face to face with that asshole,” Bastien said.
“It was, but enough about what happened. Let’s talk about what we’re going to do now,” Marcelle said. “What about tonight? Do you and Clay still plan to play at the saloon?”
“I promised Tony I’d be there. I don’t want to back out. We were fortunate to meet great people who helped us when we arrived. Like you’re playing with Skye’s band, and I’m playing at McSorley’s.”
“I want to play with you and Clay tonight.” Marcelle looked at Kaitlyn. “Can we convince your dad to let me inside the saloon?”
“There’s a story about Kenzie McBain dressing in men’s clothes and telling jokes. The men hated the jokes but laughed anyway because Kenzie was so funny. Once the men hear you play, they won’t care, but you should dress as a man.”
“I need to go shopping then,” Marcelle said. “Clay, why don’t you and Bastien work on a setlist for tonight while Kaitlyn and I go shopping?”
“What about your appointment?” Bastien asked Kaitlyn.
“I rescheduled until tomorrow, so I have a free afternoon.”
Bastien asked Clay, “How come we’ve never met? I thought I knew all the musicians at Mallory Plantation.”
“Patrick Mallory and I were college roommates, so I’ve spent time at the plantation, but I was never part of the inner circle. I traveled by accident, just like you and Marcelle. Patrick came to get me.”
“I can’t wait to meet him,” Kaitlyn said.
“He joined the Marines and won’t be home for a while, but you’ll meet him soon enough. You’ll enjoy his fiancée. Patrick met Sarah in Buffalo in 1901. Since she was so sick, he insisted she go home with him for medical treatment.”
“How is she now?” Marcelle asked.
“Fully recovered, and she intends to go to medical school. Sarah will have to take several college classes to catch up, but with special tutors, it won’t take long.”
“If I went, I’d have to take college classes and go to law school again. I’m not sure I want to do that.”
“There’s no hurry. You can take your time.” Bastien rubbed his leg. “Clay, do you have a battery charger that will work with my prosthesis?”
“Crap,” Clay said. “I’m sorry. I forgot all about your battery. Let me get it. Give me the dead one, and I’ll put it on the charger and bring the charged one.”
Bastien removed the battery and handed it to Clay. “How are you charging it?”
“David gave me a solar panel and a charge controller. The charge controller ensures the battery receives a safe and efficient charge. At least that’s what he said. We’ll see if it works.”
“If David said it would work, I’ll trust it.”
“Who’s he?” Marcelle asked.
“Kenzie’s husband,” Kaitlyn said.
“David McBain is an urban legend,” Clay said. “He can do the impossible with one hand tied behind his back, but miracles take longer. He’s a Ret. Major in the Scots Dragoon and the Keeper’s vaengr.”
“Who’s the Keeper, and what’s a vaengr?” Kaitlyn asked.
“Elliott’s the Keeper, and a vaengr is a wingman. I’ll answer more questions as soon as I get back.” Clay rushed out of the room.
“Do we need to decide when we’re going to Chicago?” Bastien asked.
“Papa and I can’t leave for a couple of weeks. I have to close my law practice and pack everything in my apartment, and Papa needs to sell the saloon.”
“I can help with the packing, but you’ll only need to take personal items that you have an emotional attachment to, like photographs, jewelry, and mementos of your mother. Things like that.”
“What about my clothes and furniture?”
“Take items with special meaning. Once you get there, I’ll take you and Tony shopping,” Bastien said.
“I’ll take you shopping,” Marcelle said. “Bastien’s got great taste in men’s clothing, but I wouldn’t trust him to pick out what you’ll need.”
Kaitlyn’s look of concern intensified. “I’ll have so much to learn.”
“It might seem scary, but you won’t be the first person to come live in the future,” Marcelle said. “Clay told me there are a couple of dozen people who have come forward in time. They’re from Phin’s age to Cullen Montgomery, who’s in his seventies. Everyone has adjusted quickly.”
“Will we be together?” Kaitlyn asked Bastien.
“Let me answer that.” Clay returned with a battery and handed it to Bastien. “We’ll arrive at the plantation, and everyone will be there. But we’re going to New Orleans for Bastien, Marcelle, and Remy’s gig.”
“We didn’t miss it?” Bastien slipped the battery into place and immediately smiled. “How’s that even possible?”
“We traveled with the diamond brooch. It returns travelers to the moment of departure.”
“So, we’ll still go to the gala?” Bastien asked.
“No, we’ll return to the minute Remy, and I left. It will still be Saturday afternoon,” Clay said.
“Lamar must be pulling his hair out, or at least what’s left of it,” Bastien said.
“According to Remy, Lamar was pissed but lightened up when Remy told him he was bringing subs.”
“We can’t let him down.” Bastien walked across the room, testing the new battery.
“You can’t tell you have a prosthesis,” Kaitlyn said. “You’re walking just like you were when we met. How does it feel?”
“Great. It’ll make a difference tonight.” Bastien took a few more steps, noticing how much better his balance was. “If Tony and Kaitlyn can’t leave for a couple of weeks, what will you and Clay do?” he asked Marcelle.
“Go back to Chicago and play with Skye’s band,” she said.
“We still need to find the Robertsons, who disappeared in 1972. Remy and I believe they’re in the city,” Clay said. “I’ll go to the bank tomorrow and set up an account for you.”
“I’ll pay you back once we get home.”
“We’ll worry about that later,” Clay said.
“I need to repay Tony for the money he spent on my wardrobe. As long as I keep playing at the saloon every night, the money I make will cover my expenses and pay for late-night dinners.”
“This is all going so fast,” Kaitlyn said, her green eyes locked on him. “I don’t even know where you live.”
“Bastien has a lovely home in Richmond, Virginia, but he’s rarely there,” Marcelle said. “He’s constantly traveling, but I have a feeling that’s about to change. He might actually have to put food in his refrigerator.”
“I have food in my fridge,” Bastien said.
Marcelle scrunched her face. “With green fuzzy stuff growing on it.”
Kaitlyn gave her a suspicious look.
“He never eats at home, so the food in his refrigerator goes bad. He throws it out, gets more, and throws that out.”
“Why?” Kaitlyn asked.
“Unlike you, who only has bread and peanut butter, I buy steaks, vegetables, and fruit. Then I go out of town for a week, and when I come home, the food’s gone bad. My intentions were good. If you’re there, I promise to do better,” Bastien said.
“I’m not sure I believe you,” Kaitlyn said, sounding worried.
His eyebrows flashed. “Promise.”
“We’ll see, but if you live in Richmond and Marcelle lives in Chicago, we’ll never see her.”
Bastien drew a measured breath, then shifted slightly and repositioned his legs. “Marcelle’s moving to Richmond.” Marcelle stared at Bastien for a solid ten seconds without saying a word. The silence pressed down on him, making him want to shrink under her gaze.
“Why do you say that?” Tension ticked in Marcelle’s jaw, and irritated lines etched over her darkening expression.
“I heard you were taking a job with the Richmond Symphony.”
“Who told you that?” she demanded.
“One of the board members is a new client. He said the last name was unique and wondered if I was related to Marcelle LeBlanc. One thing led to another.”
Marcelle inhaled deeply and then let out a breath slowly, her grip tightening on the edge of the sofa. “You should have said something.”
Bastien’s eyebrows arched. “I was waiting for you. Why are you so mad?”
“Because I wanted a calm discussion over a bottle of wine about the job’s pros and cons. I was hoping we could do that while we were in New Orleans.”
“I don’t see any cons,” Kaitlyn interjected. “If you move to Richmond, and Bastien is going to travel a lot, then you should live with us.”
“No!” Bastien and Marcelle exclaimed.
Kaitlyn leaned away from Bastien. “Whoa. Calm down. I was just throwing out a suggestion.”
“We’d kill each other,” Marcelle said. “Don’t get me wrong, we love each other dearly, but living together would ruin our relationship. He’s too overprotective, he’s a night owl, he doesn’t hang up wet towels, and the only dirty clothes hamper he has is the floor.”
Kaitlyn cut Bastien a sharp glance. “I thought your clothes and wet towels were on the floor because of your leg, but that’s not the reason. Is it because you’re tired, in a hurry, or just don’t see the need for it?”
Bastien ran his hand along the nape of his neck. “All three, but I’ll do better.”
“Don’t believe him, Kaitlyn. If the Army didn’t break him of his bad habits, he won’t change now,” Marcelle said.
Kaitlyn gave him a tight-lipped frown, and then she said, “I have something to motivate you that the Army didn’t have.”
“What’s that?” he asked.
“You can sleep in your own room.”