Page 2 of The Lady on Esplanade
I was happy to see Cooper Ravenel, who rose from where he’d been seated, then walked around the table to wrap me in a bear hug.Because of his job he traveled a lot, and I hadn’t seen much of him since the night of the St.Louis Cathedral fund-raiser at the Ryans’, when Beau had almost died.Cooper had been instrumental in saving Beau and me from the brink of disaster, which was one of the reasons he was at the celebratory dinner.
“It’s good to see you,” he said, his voice and touch vibrating through me.
“Same,” I said, feeling everyone’s eyes on us.“I hope you’re in town long enough for me to show you the house on Esplanade.”
“That’s what I’m counting on.I’ve asked for no travel this coming week, so I’m all yours.”
Cooper had been my teenage crush and first heartbreak, and he had recently moved to New Orleans.I was concentrating on renovating my cottage and starting my new life, and I wasn’t interested in a relationship beyond friendship, but I’d be lying to myself if I said that I didn’t feel an electric jolt every time I saw him.I’d yet to ask him about the scar on his face and about his years in California.If there was anything I’d learned from my stepmother, it was that sometimes not knowing was best.
“Sounds like a plan,” I said as I pulled away.
Everyone took their seats except for Beau.He gently clinked his water glass—no wine or champagne on the table, in deference to me, I guessed—to quiet the chatter.
“Thank you all for coming.It was important that I gather us all together to thank those of you who not only saved my life”—he glanced at me, and I knew we were both recalling his slipping over the edge of the attic walkway as I struggled to hold on, before Cooper miraculously appeared—“but also helped my family find my long-lost sister, Sunny.As I know you are all aware, she is still processing her newly discovered identity, but Mimi and I have great hopes that she will return to us when she’s ready.And we will be waiting with open arms.”
“Hear, hear!”Christopher Benoit, family friend and the manager of the Past Is Never Past, the Ryans’ antiques store on Royal Street, raised his water glass.The rest of us followed suit, and the sound of glasses clinking sang over the table as we turned to one another to toast the miracle of Beau’s survival and the resolution of the decades-old mystery of what had happened to two-year-old Sunny Ryan.
As I sipped my water I looked around at the smiling faces, knowing that, except for Carly—whose reason for being present at the table wasn’t clear—I’d found my family.Not a new family, but an extension of my beloved family back home, in Charleston—because, as Melanie and my father, Jack, had reminded me time and again, no matter where I went, there I was.And, as I was a recovering alcoholicwho’d chosen for her new home a city recognized for its partying lifestyle, my family had known even before I did that I would require a support system while I tried to prove to everyone that I didn’t need anyone’s support but my own.
I was halfway through my dessert, crème brûlée—which I didn’t enjoy as much as I should have, because I was too busy watching Sam and Beau eat their bananas Foster for two—when the lights flickered, followed quickly by a sharp crack of thunder.I looked up and met Beau’s gaze, almost as if we were sharing the same unspoken thought: that just the two of us had noticed that the crystal chandelier above our table had been the only light with interrupted power in the restaurant.Everyone who lived in the coastal South was used to sporadic storms, even in November.We were even used to the electricity going out with annoying frequency.But there was also an odd static in the air, a frisson of something unknown that hovered in the room, and only Beau and I appeared to notice.
The waitstaff continued to refill water and iced tea glasses and deliver coffee in delicate china cups as if nothing had changed—as if the room hadn’t just inhaled and begun to hold its breath.I picked up my glass and held it against my cheek, trying to cool my suddenly hot skin.
I was concentrating on slowing my heartbeat and was barely aware of Jaxson pulling out his chair and moving toward Carly.I half stood from my chair as Jaxson got down on one knee and produced a black velvet box.I turned to look at Jolene, whose porcelain skin had gone even paler, the carefully applied blush on her cheeks almost garish in contrast.
Everyone was rising to their feet and clapping loudly as Carly threw her arms around Jaxson’s neck before delivering an intimate kiss to his lips.Jolene began clapping, too, but it looked as if her frozen white fingers might snap.I moved to her side and rested my arm around her shoulders.For a brief moment she leaned against me, before straightening and configuring a smile that even I thought looked real.
As Jaxson slid the ring onto Carly’s finger I turned to Beau to ask him why he hadn’t given us some kind of warning so Jolene could be prepared, but instead of watching Jaxson and Carly, Beau was staring at the floor.
Carly extended her left hand, bright light refracting through the prism of her large pear-shaped diamond.“We need to have an engagement party!”
Her eyes scanned the room before alighting on Jolene.“And I happen to know the best party planner—Jolene McKenna!If anyone can make it the party of the decade, she can!”
Jolene continued to smile, adding a nod as if agreeing to the ludicrous suggestion that she throw an engagement party for Jaxson and Carly.It was almost as unimaginable as LSU throwing a victory party for Ole Miss.
I turned back to Beau, his gaze lifting from the floor to meet mine.I held my breath in anticipation, knowing before I looked down that I would see a woman’s footprints, each step marked by smeared water spots as if she had just climbed out of a swimming pool.Since I’d first met Beau, in Charleston, I’d seen such footprints often enough to know without a doubt to whom they belonged—just as I knew that Beau would do everything possible to deny it.
My eyes met Beau’s again.She’s still here.The unspoken words ricocheted from his thoughts to mine, my heart sinking as I realized what those wet footprints meant.I’d seen the footprints only once since the incident in the Ryans’ attic, and I’d hoped she’d come only to say good-bye.Apparently that wasn’t the case.Even though her daughter, Sunny, had been found, Adele Ryan still had unfinished business.And she needed her son’s help.
CHAPTER 2
The following morning I awoke to a song playing on my iPhone.I never used music as an alarm, because it wasn’t enough to wake me, and the music now playing made my sleeping brain cells tumble around one another, trying to name the song.It took me a moment to identify “Rolling in the Deep” by Adele, and another moment to recall that I didn’t have any Adele songs on my playlist.It wasn’t that I didn’t like her music; it was just that her songs were overplayed enough that I heard them whether or not I wanted to.Like now.
My eyes popped open, my brain registering the absence of the scent of brewing coffee.I sat up and sprang from my bed, dislodging Mardi from where he lay spooning next to me.He snuffled once, then nestled back into the covers.I stared at him enviously, and not just because I wished I could go back to sleep.I crept toward my door and placed my hand on the knob as I succumbed to a sense of dread.The last time this had happened, Jolene had packed her bags—and Mardi—and headed home to Mississippi, leaving behind only a note saying she’d return soon.
I’d later learned that she’d left because Jaxson had kissed her.Icouldn’t imagine how long she thought she needed to recuperate after yesterday’s seismic blow.My heart hurt for her, but I hadn’t had a chance to speak with her yet.Cooper had driven me back to the apartment, and Jolene’s bedroom door was already closed when I came in.After taking a deep breath in preparation for whatever I needed to do to be the kind of friend she’d been to me, I opened the door and peered out.
At the round dining table Jolene sat in front of her open laptop, surrounded by neat stacks of her signature Crane linen stationery with what appeared to be numbered lists in her crisp and precise handwriting covering the pages.Her hair wasn’t as poofy as she liked it, but it was sprayed neatly in place, and I would have sworn that she was wearing the same outfit she’d worn the previous day.Of course, I hadn’t had my coffee yet, and the lack of caffeine could have been impairing my memory.She looked up in surprise, then glanced at herWizard of Ozwatch.
“Good gracious!I was so lost in party planning that I lost track of the time.”She jumped out of her chair and pulled an adjacent one out for me.“Just have a seat and I’ll get your coffee and warm up some of the blueberry muffins I made yesterday—”
“Please don’t.Really, I can do it—”
“Sit down, Nola.Or, better yet, go run a brush through that rat’s nest on top of your head while I go pour you a cup and reheat those muffins.”She dashed into the kitchen, the movement followed by the clanging of dishes a moment later.
“Okay,” I said, pretending I hadn’t heard her mention a hairbrush as I slowly lowered myself into a chair.Jolene’s ordering me around was nothing new, nor was her ability to operate on very little sleep.What was new, however, was that her feet were bare.Normal for the rest of us, but for Jolene it was a clear sign that she was having an existential crisis.
As I listened to her rushing around the kitchen, I eyed the quantity of lists and notes littering the table.If Jolene had slept at all, it hadn’t been for long.I imagined the desks of the D-Day planners would havebeen similar—but their notes would have been less complicated and definitely not on Crane stationery.
