Page 24 of Cheater Slicks

“But effective.” He held up a finger. “I died with zero offspring and the same box of condoms.”

“That’s not something to brag about,” Bosco said from the depths of the marble vault.

Smothering a laugh as Pascal flushed, I added, “And emotional scars that lasted a lifetime and beyond.”

“That too.” His lips twitched at the memory. “Damn, I miss her.”

Unfortunately for the Suarez brothers, she had elected to move on rather than linger. They wouldn’t see her, or their father again, until they crossed over.

“Can you take this reunion outside?” a grumpy voice mumbled. “We’re trying to sleep here.”

Wincing at the commiserating grumbles from the other vaults, I shuffled the guys out then closed up behind us.

The cemetery wouldn’t be open for a while, so we climbed the fence and started down Basin Street. The walk to get breakfast would cost us twenty minutes, but after spending so much time sitting on concrete and waiting for the parade to come again, I was happy for the excuse to stretch my legs.

Halfway to Café du Monde, I spied Badb circling overhead, her beak cracked open in a cackle.

A thud on the crown of my head pushed a hiss from between my teeth as I rubbed the sore spot.

“Really?” I reached up to untangle the beads from my hair. “Where did you find these?”

Please don’t say somewhere gross.

“They were looped over a power line,” Kierce told me. “She thought you might like the mirror charm.”

Yeah. Uh-huh. Because, between the two of us, I was the one obsessed with my own reflection.

Mardi Gras beads came in all sizes, shapes, and colors. Most necklaces tossed from the floats were plain beads in green, purple, and gold. But every now and again, the krewe flung deluxe beads. The battle for those often resulted in scuffles in the street. This particular strand—with its chunky golden beads and the ornate gold brocade trimming out a hazy mirror—fell squarely into that category.

Oh, how the paradegoers must have cried out when it got stuck on the power line. I bet folks had thrown their shoes at the necklace for days, probably losing them too, but it had taken a vain crow to liberate the prize.

As Kierce and Badb conferred ahead of us, I fell in step with Pascal, whose expression pinched my heart.

“Don’t tell me you fell in love with Anita that fast.” I bumped shoulders with him. “If you’re worried she’ll write you off for ditching her once, don’t be. As long as you make it up to her, she’ll forgive you.”

“It’s not that.” He cracked a smile, but it faded as he admitted, “I’m worried about Pedro. He takes more shifts with Matty than Paco or I do, and it’s wearing on him. And you know Pedro. He’s like you. He would do anything for his family, and you Marys are the next best thing to Suarezes.”

Fear trickled in over Pedro hiding his strain from me, but I would have to take that up with him.

“What he said before was the first I’ve heard about it. I wish he had told me sooner.” I leaned my head against his shoulder, already thinking out my talk with his brother. “I’ll talk to him, okay?”

“Fingers crossed Matty is back with us soon.” He rested his cheek against mine. “Then it won’t matter.”

The comforting warmth of my brother’s skin on mine threatened to bring tears to my eyes. And I felt like a bad friend for cashing in on Pascal’s pain to get closer to Matty, to take the comfort I ought to be giving.

“Looks like there’s already a line,” he murmured, pulling away from me. “That’s dedication.”

There was always a line at Café du Monde, which led to many locals, Vi included, labeling it a tourist trap instead of regarding it as a local institution. But Jean-Claude wasobsessedwith their beignets and considered anything less than a five-star review of them to be blasphemous.

While Pascal went to join the other early birds waiting for the café to open, I sought out Kierce and Badb where they stood watching artists arranging their canvases, easels, and crafts in nearby Jackson Square. I smiled when I noticed the reason for his interest and watched as a young man hung a stained glass suncatcher shaped like a crow in flight next to what was clearly part of a series.

“Are you sure I can’t tempt you into trying a beignet?” I made a mental note of the artist’s name for later. Christmas would be here before we knew it. “They’re mighty tasty.”

“There’s an oyster bar down the street. I’m going to pick up a dozen for later.” He stroked Badb’s head. “She swears they’re the best in the Quarter.”

“Be careful going through the trash,” I cautioned her. “Oysters turn quick in the heat.”

A mocking laugh moved through her feathered breast, and I waited for the punch line.

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