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“Definitely.”
“Okay then.”
I smile. I feel like I passed some test.
“Ellie makes excellent gumbo,” Henry says.
“Oh, Brit,” Ellie says with a laugh. “I know you’ve been strugglin’ with my gumbo since you first set foot in here.”
He looks alarmed. “I…do like it.”
“It’s a bit much for you, admit it.” She plants a hand on her hip.
I was right. Ellie Landry would rather hear the truth that is slightly insulting than a compliment that’s a lie.
“Fine. It’s a bit much for me,” Henry says. “But I’ve been building up my tolerance.”
“Eating it as fast as you can and then diving headfirst into a dish of bread pudding isn’t building up a tolerance,” Ellie informs him.
Henry puts a hand on his heart. “I would eat vats of spicy gumbo if I had to in order to get to eat your bread pudding, Ellie.”
She scoffs, but she’s smiling. “Mine’s not evenspicygumbo.”
Henry gives her a horrified look. Probably the same one he wore when he visited Leo’s fishing cabin.
I giggle. I might have to find more things to put that look on his face. Henry Dean has moved through this world far too in charge and comfortable for the past several years, I think.
“It was the British accent that did it for you, wasn’t it?” Ellie asks me.
I grin and nod. “At first, that was a big part of it, yeah.”
She shakes her head. “You’ve gotta watch the accents. These Cajun boys have been using them for evil for decades. And these Irishmen…whew.”
I laugh. “Yes, I’ve met one of those Irishmen. He definitely gets away with a lot.”
“Ruby’s moving back to New Orleans soon,” Henry says. “I brought her here so that she’d have some people around in case she needs anything. But I think maybe I’ll just introduce her to Naomi. She’s sweet. Or Jordan. Jordan is really nice. And she already knows Fiona. You can just steer clear of Ellie.”
Ellie waves her hand as if to say, “don’t listen to him”. “Everything those girls know, they learned from me,” she says. “You might as well come straight to the top if you need something.”
I already feel like Ellie could make just about anything better. It’s not exactly a “motherly” vibe. It’s more of aI’ve got a shovel and I don’t need the details, let’s just get rid of the bodybefore itstarts to smellvibe. Sometimes you needthaton your side more than you need chicken soup or a hug.
Then again, Ellie Landry could probably bury a body, feed you the best soup you’ve ever had, and give you a hug to end all hugs, all in the same thirty-minute period.
I think I’m going to have to try her gumbo. Maybe I’ve just had the wrong gumbo all this time.
“Here’s what you can come down here for,” Ellie tells me, leaning onto her bar. “Great food. Shenanigans. A few laughs. A cute animal fix. To kill time. Book recs. An alibi. To borrow tools, cooking implements, any kind of vehicle, or any type of clothing. To learn to do anything from deep fry something to fixing a transmission. Just bein’ around people who will accept you however you are. People who will listen to you rant and then say ‘those assholes’ about whoever you’re mad at. Or just to flirt with some good-lookin’ boys who will treat you like gentlemen should.” She pauses, then winks. “Unless you don’t want them to.”
I literally snort at that last one.
“Um, no,” Henry says. “Not that last bit. Not at all.”
Ellie gives him anoh really?look. “Of course she can come here for that. I’ll keep the assholes and the married ones away from her.”
“She’s withme.”
“Well, then it’s up toyouto keep her from needin’ that, isn’t it?” She gives me another wink. “If you show up wantin’ that, I’m not asking questions.”
I giggle.