Page 16 of February (New Orleans #2)

“M om!” Aaron yelled.

Monica still smiled just about every time he called her ‘Mom.’ It amazed her how that worked. She’d never planned on having children, and being called that hadn’t mattered to her. In fact, when she’d first met Lily and found out she had a young son, Monica had almost walked away. Then, she’d met Aaron, who had been precocious and interested in learning just about everything. She had spent one afternoon with him, and that had been it. As much as she couldn’t stand Lily now and wondered how she’d even loved her to begin with, she would never regret their marriage because she’d gotten Aaron out of it.

When they’d told him about the separation and subsequent divorce, Aaron hadn’t been surprised. He’d been old enough to understand, but he’d still been hurt. As much as Monica had wanted to save him that pain, she couldn’t keep going on with Lily how she had been. She would only have gotten more miserable in time, and that wouldn’t have been good for Aaron, either. The fact that he still relied on her, still trusted her, and still loved her made her happy beyond measure. She used to wish that she would’ve been there when he was born, when he was a baby and a toddler, and she still did, in part, but truthfully, she was so happy that she’d gotten him when she had and that they’d bonded over their love of math and cooking that she no longer worried about those years she missed.

She could still remember the first time he’d called her ‘Mom.’ Lily had just gotten home late from work, and it was already Aaron’s bedtime, so she’d walked into his room right when Monica had been tucking him in. She’d stayed long enough to tell him goodnight and had given him a kiss on his forehead, but then, Aaron had asked his mom to read a story with him. Lily had explained that it was already past his bedtime, but he’d meant Monica, so he’d said it again.

“Mom, will you read with me?” he had asked, looking right into Monica’s eyes, and Monica had been certain then that she’d never loved someone more.

“Hey,” she greeted as she waved him over.

Aaron dragged his roller bag past the TSA agent guarding the exit and walked right up into her arms, hugging her quickly before pulling back. He was eighteen now. Monica knew she should be glad she got a hug at all.

“How was your flight?” she asked.

“Good.”

Yeah, he was eighteen. She’d been used to getting short responses from him since he’d been a pre-teen, so the one-word answer here wasn’t a big shock.

“Did you check anything?”

“No, it’s just two nights.” Aaron nodded down at his roller.

“I’ve got a car waiting,” Monica said. “Are you excited about the tour?”

They started walking toward the sliding glass doors of the airport.

“Yeah. I talked to Grandpa yesterday, and he was telling me about his time at school. He said if I wanted to go there, he could get me in.”

“He did, did he?” Monica rolled her eyes at her father. “Well, let’s focus on you getting in on your own, okay? And you know it’s okay if you don’t go to a school that Grandma or Grandpa did, right? If you don’t like Tulane or LSU, you can go anywhere you want.”

“I know.” He shrugged a shoulder when they got outside, where the chauffeur stood, waiting to take his bag.

“And you need to keep in mind that it’s not just about the campus. You’ll be living in the city for at least four years. You need to like the city and feel like you can live here, too.”

“Mom, I know,” he said as he brushed his dirty blonde hair back from his eyes.

It had gotten too long, and he needed to get it cut. Had Lily cared at all about him visiting these schools and looking presentable, she would’ve had him cut it before he left.

“Aaron, do you maybe want to stop somewhere and get your hair cut? It’s looking pretty ragged there, buddy.”

“I’m growing it out,” he replied and opened the door of the car, not waiting for the driver to do it for him. When he moved to the side to let her get in first, Monica was grateful that he’d turned into a respectful young man. “I just didn’t put the stuff in it that keeps it down this morning because I had the early flight. You’re lucky I’m not in sweatpants and a T-shirt.”

Monica chuckled as she climbed into the car and said, “Well, let’s stop off at the store, then. You somehow managed to get my hair, which makes no sense. We need the anti-frizz stuff for the humidity.”

“You don’t have any?” Aaron asked as he climbed in next to her, closing the door behind him.

“I think it’s almost gone,” she replied.

Their drive was mostly in silence. Monica had gotten a text from her assistant, referring her to an important contract, and Aaron had been content to look out the window and take in the city. There wasn’t much traffic, so they got to the hotel quickly enough, and she checked him in. His room wasn’t a deluxe suite, but it was the Four Seasons, so it was still a very nice room. She walked him to it, and he let her in with his key.

“Cool. Thanks, Mom,” he said as he looked around. “Minibar?”

“Don’t even think about it. I get the bill.”

Aaron laughed and said, “I meant for, like, snacks and stuff.”

“It’s the and stuff you better not take.”

He laughed again and replied, “It’s cool. Can we stop somewhere and get snacks, then? I’m hungry.”

“We can snack, or we can get breakfast.”

“Room service?” he asked as he rolled his bag over to the rack and practically dropped it on top of it.

“I was thinking of a restaurant across the street. I’ve been there a couple of times, and it’s really good.”

“Yeah, that’s fine. After that, though, can I take a nap for a couple of hours? I had to wake up early because of the flight.”

“Of course. I’ll work while you do. Then, we can meet my friend and head to campus.”

“You have a friend?” he asked.

Monica glared at him.

“I didn’t mean it like that.” He laughed. “I meant that I didn’t know you had a friend here .”

“She’s a new friend.”

Aaron lifted a curious eyebrow at her.

“Not like that.” Monica laughed then. “She works with the company I’m here for. She went to Tulane and offered to show you around.”

“I bet it’s changed a lot since she’s been there. Does she even know the place anymore?”

“I think you just called me very old.” Monica sat on the end of his bed. “And she’s not my age.”

“She’s younger?” Aaron checked as he sat down next to her.

“Yes. And she’s lived in New Orleans for a long time, so she knows the city very well. She offered, and I accepted on your behalf.”

“What about the tour I’m supposed to go on with the Tulane people?”

“You’ll do that. We’ll stay out of your hair, I promise.”

“It’s not that I don’t want you there. It’s just that I don’t want to miss out on the activities.”

“I know, honey,” Monica said as she rubbed his back. “Let’s go grab some breakfast, and you can take your nap.”

She was hoping she would see Bridgette at the restaurant, which was one of the reasons she’d suggested it over room service. The other reason was that Monica was starting to really love New Orleans. She’d gone shopping the previous night and had tried to buy local when she found something she liked. She had bought another pair of tennis shoes, three pairs of jeans, and a few shirts and sweaters. She’d also gotten a purse that was neither a large bag nor a clutch and would be perfect for their days wandering college campuses.

When Aaron yawned as she was getting the check, she told him to go back to the room to sleep for a couple of hours and that she’d come to get him around lunch. She’d initially planned to go back to her own room to get some work done, but since she didn’t see Bridgette at breakfast like she’d been hoping, her feet continued on toward the office instead of the hotel after leaving Aaron to nap. She missed her. Monica couldn’t believe she was thinking that, but she did, and she’d just seen the woman yesterday afternoon when they’d said goodbye at the office. She’d been hoping Bridgette would ask what she was up to that night. Monica had thought that she might invite Bridgette to go shopping with her, if she had, and that maybe they’d grab dinner, too, but Bridgette hadn’t brought it up, and Monica didn’t want to intrude on whatever Bridgette had planned for that evening.

“Hey. I didn’t think you were coming in,” Bridgette said. “I thought I was meeting you at the hotel later.”

“Aaron wanted to nap, so I thought I’d come in and work.”

“Because you just couldn’t possibly take, like, two hours off?” Bridgette teased.

Monica leaned back against Bridgette’s desk and asked, “What are you up to?”

“Sketching.”

“Yeah? Can I see?”

“No.” Bridgett laughed, covering up her work.

“What? Why not?” Monica chuckled.

“Because it’s not done yet.”

“I saw what you were working on the other day, and that wasn’t done.”

“This is different.”

Monica could swear she could see the hint of a blush on Bridgette’s cheek.

“How so?” she asked.

Bridgette looked around her and into the office, where her parents were currently working.

“It’s the breakup card thing I mentioned to you. Funny one-liner on the front to grab your future ex’s attention and a cute picture. Then, something inside to reveal that you’re done. I’m still working out a few things, but I think it’s pretty funny.”

“Do you really see people using these to break up with someone?”

“No, I can see people buying them after the fact and sending them in revenge or, really, just checking them out in the store, laughing, and putting them back on the rack. I don’t know. Maybe friends would buy them for friends who just broke up with someone.” Bridgette leaned back in her chair. “Is this stupid? Will people actually buy them?”

“It’s not stupid. It’s New Orleans, right? It’s irreverent at times and funny, yes. I’m not sure how they’d sell, honestly. Maybe we should consider a marketing strategy before you get too far.”

“A marketing strategy?”

“Yeah. I’ve got some time now if you want to walk through it.”

“We don’t really have marketing strategies here.”

“Maybe you should,” Monica replied as she leaned in. “Come on. Let’s see what we can come up with. I’m thinking, we can create a few fake social posts from some burner accounts I have, and we can joke about breakup cards. Something like, ‘Wouldn’t it be nice if you could buy a breakup card just like you can by an anniversary one?’ or, ‘Wish I had a card that told my girlfriend I don’t want to be with her anymore.’” She paused as she opened the conference room door. “Stuff like that. We can see if we get a response.”

“Hold on there.” Bridgette stood and walked over. “You have fake social accounts?”

“Several of them,” she said. “And if we see a few good comments, it could be an indicator.”

After two hours of going over the marketing and sales possibilities, Monica was surprised to have not even opened her laptop because she hadn’t needed it. Then, they left together to walk down the street to the hotel to pick up Aaron. He’d texted her that he’d woken up and would meet them outside, so when they arrived, he was already there. Monica smiled proudly at her son. He had changed his clothes from the ratty jeans and hoodie he’d worn for the flight to a pair of much nicer jeans, a belt, brown shoes that she’d bought him last year, an actual button- down shirt that he’d tucked in, and a sweater over that. He would likely burn up later in the day, but he looked like a young professional about to go to his first day of work.

“He’s more dressed up than me,” Bridgette noted.

“Well, he’s trying to get into school. You already graduated.”

“Do I look like a slob?” Bridgette looked down at herself as they walked.

“Uh, no,” Monica said, leaving it at that.

Bridgette always looked good to her. Today, her hair was pulled back into a ponytail. She never seemed to wear much makeup or any at all, and it worked for her. She was wearing jeans and a green sweater that was just tight enough to show off her ample breasts, which Monica forced herself to look away from when they arrived to meet Aaron.

“Hey, honey. This is my friend, Bridgette. Bridgette, this is my son, Aaron.”

“Nice to meet you,” Bridgette spoke, holding out her hand for Aaron to shake.

“Yeah, you too,” Aaron said, shaking it. “Thank you for doing this. It’s cool of you to take the time.”

“No problem. I love my alma mater.”

“Yeah? When did you graduate?”

“About five years ago.”

“Five years?” he asked, looking at his mom.

“Yes. I know you have a real tour to get to, but I thought I could point out the stuff they’ll leave off the official tour.”

“That would be cool,” he replied. “So, you’re like, what, twenty-seven?”

“Yes. Almost twenty-eight, but yeah. Why?”

“Just curious,” he said.

Monica then lifted an eyebrow at her son, who looked between Bridgette and her.

When Bridgette’s phone rang, she pulled it out of her pocket and said, “Sorry. Can you give me one second? It’s my mom.”

“Sure. The car’s not here yet, anyway.”

“You ordered a car?” Bridgette asked.

“Well, we’re not walking there.”

“I was going to make us take the bus. He’ll use it a lot if he’s down here.”

“I will?” Aaron asked. “I was going to get a car.”

“You don’t need one,” Bridgette replied. “Just one sec,” she added, answering her phone and turning away from them.

“Mom, do I have to take the bus?”

Monica laughed and said, “Not right now, but probably in the future, yes. Bridgette was just making fun of me.”

“She’s hot,” Aaron noted.

“Aaron!” Monica turned to check that Bridgette was still turned away. “She’s twenty-seven. You’re eighteen.”

“I didn’t mean for me. I meant for you . You’re into her, right?”

“What? No, I told you–”

“I watched you two walk over here, Mom. You like her. Does she like you? I think so, but–”

“Aaron, she’s a nice person who offered to show you around campus. That’s all.”

“Sure, Mom. Whatever you say.” He mock-winked at her and turned serious. “But you should, you know?”

“Should what?”

“Go for it, if you want.”

“Aaron, it’s not–”

“You should be happy. After what Lillian has put you through, you deserve it.”

“She’s your mother. Stop calling her by her name,” she replied with a headshake at him.

“Just… If you want to… you know.” He glanced over at Bridgette, who was now walking back over to them. “Go for it. That’s all I’m saying.”

“So… The bus, right?” Bridgette asked.

“No, the car,” Monica said. “He can take the bus for the next four years.”

“Fine. At least you brought a regular-size purse today.”

When Monica laughed, Aaron watched the exchange and shook his head with a smile on his face.