Chapter 46 New Orleans—Remy #2
“If you had, you wouldn’t have hired his company again,” Remy said, his voice a low, gravelly rumble of certainty.
“And if you trusted him in the past, you don’t need to be concerned now.
” Remy’s gaze drifted out the window again, settling on the sight of their friends waiting on the tarmac.
A surge of responsibility tightened his chest. It would take all of them working together to integrate the newbies into this complex family.
Remy strode to the front of the line and presented his driver’s license, a credit card, and his proof of insurance to the unsmiling agent.
After scrawling his signature across a stack of documents and taking possession of the remote key fob, he moved aside, making room for David to complete the same transaction.
As they walked out, David said, “We didn’t even talk about Skye.”
“What do you think of her?”
“She’s crazy about ye that’s for sure. Beneath the surface, there’s a reservoir of inner strength. She’ll fight for what matters, disregarding her own safety. That trait reminds me of Isabella.”
“Skye’s an amazing woman. Wait until you hear her sing. Her voice is like spun silk and moonlight.”
“Is that a song?”
“No, but it should be. She and Archibald sang a set of romantic songs that were so captivating that the entire audience leaped to their feet, applauding.”
“Can’t wait to hear her.”
David and Remy strode across the tarmac toward the parking lot to retrieve their vehicles. Then they circled back to collect everyone, a drum kit, a trumpet, two saxophone cases, and a mountain of luggage—each piece a promise of the musical adventure ahead.
“Where’s your guitar, Clay?” Remy asked as he surveyed the gear.
“Didn’t bring it,” Clay replied with a relaxed smile. “I’m not playing this gig. I’m just hanging out with Kaitlyn, Kenzie, and Penny while the rest of you entertain us.”
“We’ll see about that.”
They all piled into the two vehicles. Remy took the lead, navigating the busy streets as they headed into the heart of the French Quarter to find the Airbnb.
As they pulled up to the curb on Burgundy Street, facing a stark, renovated mid-century warehouse, Remy winced, knowing he was already getting good-natured grief in the other car for the rental he selected.
The exterior was all business, but the online pictures had promised to be the perfect setup for a group of musicians. And for the non-musicians, a retreat beckoned—heated pool, hot tub, and nap-worthy poolside chairs.
Remy and Skye burst into the rental ahead of the others, his anxiety dissolving into a wave of relief as the space mirrored every picture he’d viewed online.
The apartment-sized main room was an architectural dream, boasting a soaring roofline that made the space feel boundless.
Exposed steel trusses drew the eye upward, while walls of floor-to-ceiling glass blurred the lines between indoors and out, offering an uninterrupted view of a covered outdoor kitchen—complete with a table seating twelve.
At one end of this room, a friendly space welcomed them—a sitting area featuring four blue plush velvet armchairs and two brown leather sofas, encircling a square coffee table resting on a maze-like patterned rug.
At the opposite end, fulfilling every promise Remy had read on the website, stood a commanding ten-foot kitchen island and a matching dining table.
“Look, Remy. A piano!” Skye cried excitedly. “Where’s Clay?”
“Did I hear my name?” Clay asked, coming through the door with Marcelle, a computer bag slung over his shoulder, and a suitcase in each hand.
Skye pointed to the upright piano. “Will you play ‘Shallow’ for me?”
“Sure. Let us pick a room and put these away. We’ll meet you here in five minutes.”
Remy guided Skye around the corner of the house to find the room he’d selected while studying the floor plan.
Then a knot tightened in his gut when he wondered if she’d prefer a room of her own.
He was almost afraid to ask. What if she did?
He could handle the disappointment, even though separate rooms weren’t at all how he envisioned the weekend unfolding.
“Do you want your own room? Or do you want to stay with me?”
She hesitated, chewed her lower lip, and then worried the locket hanging around her neck. “What do you want?”
“I want you with me.”
“Then let’s find our room.”
He turned the brass knob and eased open a bedroom door, revealing a cascade of afternoon sun pouring across an inviting king-sized bed. The emotional impact sent a jolt through his chest. This was the place where they would finally, finally make love.
“How about this one?”
She threw her arms wide and spun in a joyous circle. A soft, breathless giggle escaped her lips, morphing into a contented sigh as she whispered one word, “Perfect.”
Her delightful smile after the terrifying flight brought him profound reassurance, and he echoed her sentiment. “I think so, too.” He set down their suitcases and his computer bag, then tossed his leather jacket on the bed, officially claiming the room. Then they returned to the main living area.
Kenzie set her computer bag on the dining table. No one in the family ever went anywhere without their laptop. “What’s close by?”
“We’re next to the French Quarter, and Frenchman Street is two blocks away. That’s where our venue is located.” Remy used his phone to check the rental’s page on Airbnb. “There’s a Fresh Market Grocery a block away, and the area is littered with cafés and restaurants.”
“Got it. I’ll wait for Penny, and we’ll go to the grocery store.
” Kenzie walked around the main room and checked out the hallways leading off it.
“There’s a coffee bar with hot and cold filtered water, a blender, and a coffee maker.
McBain packed bottles of Pappy Van Winkle and The Macallan, but you guys need to make a beer and wine run. ”
“I’ll call the closest liquor store and place an order for delivery,” Remy said. “I’ll get the usual stuff.”
“This place is cool. It’s a good choice.” Clay stepped over to the piano, sat down, and played chords. “It’s even in tune. You ready, Skye?”
She joined him at the piano. “I was born ready.”
The rental was quickly becoming a hub of excitement and anticipation.
Remy always enjoyed family get-togethers—the funny stories, beloved jokes, spontaneous soundtrack of music filling the air, the savory aromas of communal cooking, and shared cheers and groans while watching sporting events on TV—and this was shaping up to be truly unforgettable.
“If Skye’s going to sing ‘Shallow,’ a saxophone sounds incredible with that song. Ask Bastien or McBain to join you,” Kenzie said.
David sauntered into the room with two bottles of Pappy Van Winkle. “Ask me what? Should I stay or should I go?”
“Get your sax and play with them,” Kenzie said.
David shook his head. “Bastien needs rehearsal time. Not me. I’m going to fix a drink, get comfortable on the sofa, and enjoy the music.”
“Fix me one, too, please,” Kenzie said. “I’m on vacation, there are no kids around, and I can drink in the middle of the afternoon.
” She grabbed a small blanket hanging over the back of the sofa before settling into a chair, curling her bare feet underneath her.
“I’m ready for the show.” She snapped her fingers. “Chop! Chop!”
“Good things come to those who wait.” David crossed the room to the wet bar.
“I know you’ve listened to the song a dozen times, but this isn’t a grand piano, and I’m not a trained pianist like Lady Gaga. It will sound different. Let me play it through once before you sing along,” Clay said to Skye.
She sat beside him on the bench, her eyes closed, soaking in the music. When he finished, he asked, “What do you think? Are you ready to try it?”
“I think so.” She opened the text she’d sent to herself with the lyrics. “I have the words here in case I forget them.”
Bastien carried his saxophone over to the piano while David handed Kenzie a whisky on the rocks. Remy had performed with David countless times and could see in his friend’s eyes that he was reconsidering. If he wanted to play, he would.
Rick and Penny bounded in with suitcases and computer bags. “Are we the last to get here?” Rick placed their bags on the table and pushed their wheeled suitcases aside.
Remy crossed the room to welcome them. “Yep, how was your flight?”
Rick gave him a bro-hug. “Good. How was yours in Elliott’s new plane?”
Remy kissed Penny’s cheek. “It’s a sweet ride.” He then introduced Rick and Penny to the others. “These are my childhood friends, Bastien and Marcelle LeBlanc. This is Kaitlyn McSorley, Tony’s daughter, and this is your duet partner, Skye Marshall.”
Rick shook hands with everyone, gave bro-hugs, and kissed the women’s cheeks.
“And this,” Remy said to the newbies, “is Ret. Captain Wilhelmina Penelope Malone, aka Captain Penny Lafitte, aka Penny O’Grady.”
Bastien shook her hand. “Which name do you prefer, Captain?”
“Penny O’Grady, and the only battles I fight now are with my four-year-old son, Jean.”
Bastien chuckled. “I can imagine those battles aren’t as life-threatening as your time in the service.”
“I’m not so sure. This morning, Jean hit a golf ball straight through my kitchen window, missing my head by inches.”
Shock jumped into Bastien’s eyes. “What was he aiming for?”
“I’m not sure. But Rick and I watched the video, and a bee stung his hand a split second before the club made contact with the ball. Do you play?”
“Yeah. But I don’t get out as much as I’d like. And I doubt anyone in this family would enjoy playing with me. My handicap is in the low twenties.”
“That means you shoot in the nineties on a standard par-72 course. That’s a mid to high handicap for a recreational golfer.”
“Did you just do that calculation in your head?”
She chuckled. “Nope. I usually shoot in the nineties, so I already knew what it would be! We’re a good match. Let’s play sometime,” Kenzie said.