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“But being here with you and showing you around the Garden District can also be a pretty great day, right?”

Kyle nodded, and when their check arrived, she paid it. Then, they left, walking slowly as if they had no destination in mind, and for the first time in a while, Melinda actually felt like a tourist. She always had a destination when she walked around. She was either giving a tour herself and on a tight deadline to get everyone to everything included, heading to meet a friend, or going to the grocery store, but she rarely, if ever these days, just wandered around anymore. When they arrived at the edge of the massive houses and oak-shaded streets, Melinda stopped and waited for Kyle to decide how to proceed.

“Um… It’s that way, I think.” Kyle pointed.

The woman looked anxious all of a sudden, so Melinda followed her.

“Did you know this was once a bunch of plantations?” she asked, turning on tour-guide mode to help alleviate Kyle’s anxiety.

“No,” Kyle replied.

“Yeah. When some rich white people didn’t want to have to live around the Creoles, they turned the properties into homes, but there were only a couple on each block and massive gardens everywhere. That’s how it got its name.”

“Is that why people still talk about how segregated the city is at times?”

“Because it was literally set up that way? I don’t think that’s any excuse tokeepthings the same, but things move a lot slower down here, and progress, unfortunately, takes time, even though I don’t like that.”

Kyle didn’t say anything for a while as they kept walking. When she stopped, she turned and looked up at a two-story Greek Revival home with four white columns in the front.

“Is this the place?” Melinda asked her.

“I think so, yeah,” Kyle replied.

Melinda had passed by this very house every few days for the past several years, and while she hadn’t highlighted it on the tour, she often thought about who’d lived there in the past. The long shutters lining the windows were a pale yellow and made the house look welcoming. The landscaping was impeccable, as was most of the landscaping in this part of the city, but the hanging plants off the porch were pinks, reds, and blues, giving it a vibe that said this was a home.

“It’s empty,” Kyle told her. “She rented it out, I guess, but it’s empty now. I think renting this house was how she supported herself in her retirement. At least, that’s what I was able to find while reading a little of a journal she wrote.”

“Do you want to go inside?”

Kyle just stood there quietly, though, staring up at the house, and Melinda didn’t know what else to say, so she just stood there next to her, waiting, giving the woman whatever time she needed to process the thoughts in her head.

“Yes, but… I don’t know,” Kyle said after a while.

“Okay. Do you want to walk around more?”

“I feel like I’m the reason.”

“The reason for what?” Melinda asked.

“My mom lives in a trailer. Jolie and I grew up in it. My grandma had all ofthis.” Kyle motioned to the house. “I’m the reason.”

“Because your mom got pregnant with you and left town?”

“She said she was kicked out.”

“But you don’t believe her?”

“I did until I saw the house.”

“The house?”

“Not this one; the one my grandma lived in. My mom’s bedroom is still there, perfectly preserved, as if she expecteda teenage daughter to return to it any day now. Would she really do that if she kicked that daughter out? Maybe initially, but not after all these years, right? She would’ve given up by now.”

“I don’t know,” Melinda said, feeling like she couldn’t judge such a thing from the outside.

“I know I asked you to come with me and check it out, but I don’t know if I’m ready. I’m sorry.”

“That’s okay,” Melinda told her, reaching her hand out to stroke Kyle’s lower back through her sweatshirt in a feeble attempt to comfort her. “We don’t have to.”