Page 90 of Justice for Radar

“You ready, baby?” I asked my woman and she looked over at me.

“You havenoidea,” she declared.

“Let’s get out of here.”

I got behind the wheel of her car and she slid into the passenger seat. We needed to swing by the real estate office on our way out of town and were going to catch up to our crew in NOLA at the halfway point… or so Jussy thought. I had some other plans.

What she’d said about stolen moments rattling around in the back of my brain the last day or so.

We rolled out, middle fingers held high, laughing about it and Jussy shaking her head blushing but she was smiling and I think it was honestly the brightest smile I had ever seen on her. It lit her up completely, made her glow from the inside, and I lived for it and to put a smile like that on her face every day for the rest of her life.

We’d spoken about it, in one of those stolen moments’ sans anyone else. How we both craved a sort of home life stability. She confessed that she had always dreamed of being a happy housewife sort. Cooking, keeping house, making sure her husband had a safe and loving environment to return to.

She was brilliant, my girl. Creative, and driven. Built her business from nothing – learning Photoshop and drawing and the like as a side interest. Computers having always sort of fascinated her. She could keep up with both me and Atlas which was a treat and the more time we accrued just talking the more I found my sense about her was right on target.

We were practically made for each other. She was tough beyond measure; she was just in a fragile transitory make-or-break state where she needed to be shown her worth and just how tough she was.

The universe had seen fit to put her with me and mine for that, I was sure of it. Now it was time to take her out of survival mode and let her thrive.

“Where are we going?” She asked when I took an unexpected turn off the route on the GPS.

“Isn’t that one of those Missions you were talking about?” I asked.

“Oh, yeah, but…”

“No buts. We only live once, and let’s go have a look, yeah?”

She settled back in her seat and smiled, nodding, and said, “Yeah.”

We toured the grounds taking pictures together and holding hands, unbothered by the oppressive heat for the most part just glad to be in each other’s company.

“Oh, snap. I should get something for my momma,” I said when we found the giftshop.

“I’m glad you have a good relationship with yours,” she murmured.

“I’m sorry yours can’t seem to pull her head out of her ass,” I shot back and Jussy shrugged.

“She’s my mom when it makes her look good or it gets her sympathy. When she wants to be…”

“Which is bullshit,” I said and Jussy nodded.

“It is,” she agreed. “But I don’t care anymore. I don’t want to waste any energy on anyone who can’t be bothered with putting any into me, you know?”

“I do, and I’m behind you every step of the way on that. You know that, right?” I asked. She smiled and leaned in and kissed me.

“I do, and thank you,” she said against my mouth.

I smiled and bought my mother a rosary made from pressed rose petals and another one to hang from the rearview of Jussy’s car to make it smell nice.

We made it to New Orleans late that night, and I found us a nice hotel in the Quarter. Expensive as shit – but this was her first time to the city.

I made love to her that night, slow and sweet. We were both tired from the long hours on the road, and it just didn’t feel like the time or the place to get any kind of freaky. Plus, that wasn’t what any of this was about, anyway. I wasn’t about to tell this woman how much I was growing to love her. Words were fucking cheap and I like to put my money where my mouth is so to that particular end, I would rather show her.

The next morning, we hit Café du Monde for their café au lait and fresh beignets waiting in line for a seat in the café and relaxing under the awning inside the railing and just watching the tourists and people of the Quarter go by, laughing as a trio of the Voodoo Bastards rode by. No, none of them were La Croix or Collier, but I did see Saint among them. Saint was a good dude and I’d been surprised that he wasn’t with La Croix in San Antonio – those two were usually attached at the hip.

“I think we ought to spend the day,” I said, sipping my coffee and Jussy looked at me.

“Really?” Her voice was excited.

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