Page 5 of January (New Orleans #1)

“I t’s a daytime tour, Ky,” Jolie said as she pulled on a T-shirt over her head and checked herself out in the bathroom mirror. “You agreed last night when I booked it. Besides, it’s a Groupon: buy one, get one half off. So, you have to go.”

“It’s a boat in the swamp,” she argued, tucking her feet into her tennis shoes while she sat on the hotel bed.

“We’re not jumping into the swamp,” her sister replied, walking out of the small bathroom.

They’d gotten a room on a deal at the last minute in a small, boutique French Quarter hotel, which meant the room was equally small, as was the bathroom. It had a tiny sink that was nearly on top of the toilet and only a stall-style shower. The bedroom had two full beds instead of the more common queens, and the TV was tinier than Kyle’s laptop screen and clung to the wall with one of those mounts that she could pull out and swivel. Other than that, there was only a wall-mounted table between the two beds where a lamp and an old-style hotel stationary rested, and a desk was in the corner along with the chair that went with it. The building itself had been here since the eighteen-hundreds, which meant it was solid stone, so they’d been relatively protected from the partying that had occurred just down the street from them the previous night and well into the morning. Kyle found that she liked the place and was impressed that they’d managed to find it.

“Kyle, I know you want to go check out the house and figure out this whole lawyer thing, but last night, you said–”

“You’re right. Sorry. I was only half-paying attention to you, to be honest. I was looking up Mr.Beaufort when you asked. I should’ve said no, but it’s whatever now. Let’s just go.”

“A little more enthusiasm might be nice,” Jolie noted, slipping on her own shoes after sitting down on her bed. “And what do you wear to a swamp boat tour? It’s warm, not hot, but we’ll be on a boat, so it’ll be breezy, and there’s water, so it could be cold. Is the breeze off a swamp hot or cold air?”

“I think you’re getting this wrong. We’re not going on a yacht. It’s a swamp. Bring a sweater and tie it around your waist.”

“Gross, Ky. What if I see a cute guy there?”

“On a swamp boat tour?” Kyle replied, standing up and stretching.

“It’s for tourists like us. Why not?”

“Just grab a sweater and put it in your backpack, then.”

“I’m not bringing mine. I thought you could bring yours, and I could toss my stuff in there.”

“What? Why? You have a back. Use it.”

“Ky, if there’s a guy there, I don’t want to be wearing a bulky backpack. I have a purse.”

“God, straight people… You’re exhausting,” she joked.

“You are literally wearing a short-sleeved flannel shirt right now, a pair of jeans, and white tennis shoes. You want to take that back, picture of lesbian perfection?”

Kyle laughed and looked down at her shoes.

“Yeah… You didn’t think that through, did you?” Jolie asked. “White shoes, busy streets, swamps.”

“I only brought these and some sandals,” Kyle replied. “They’re new, but not brand-new, so I guess they’ll just come home with some scuff marks.”

“And likely, vomit,” her sister pointed out. “Or, at least, booze all over them.”

“You’re really selling me on going out with you tonight, aren’t you?” Kyle picked up her backpack off the floor and threw it over her shoulders. “Okay. Throw your crap in here, and let’s go.”

“You’re the best sister,” Jolie teased.

Minutes later, they were in the hotel lobby, where Kyle found a carafe of free coffee for guests.

“I don’t know how you drink that stuff,” Jolie scoffed as Kyle poured herself a cup .

“I was up late, so I’m tired. Plus, I need caffeine to get me through the day with you.”

After taking her first sip and burning her tongue, Kyle felt more than awake. Then, when they walked outside, she breathed in the light stench of garbage mixed with rancid beer. It wasn’t the best way to wake up, but she was hopeful that once they got out of the Quarter, the air in New Orleans would be better. Earlier, they’d decided that since they had some time before their tour, they’d find a restaurant and have a big breakfast. Walking until they found one that looked like it fit the bill, they headed inside and were sat immediately.

“Nice. Everyone partied last night, so we’re the only ones up right now,” Kyle said when they sat down at the blue table in the corner of the small restaurant.

After slathering her French toast in more maple syrup than was necessary, Kyle dug in and was grateful. The food in this city was amazing. She was certain the food from the bar last night had been the best dive bar food she’d ever eaten in her life. They served house-made jalapeno cornbread that tasted like it had just come out of a cast iron pan that the city’s very own grandmother had put it into hours before. The eggs, which she’d ordered alongside her French toast because she’d been feeling a little like this was supposed to be a vacation, tasted light and fluffy and just spicy enough with the Tabasco sauce they had on the table.

After breakfast, they walked out of the Quarter to get rid of some of those calories and found Canal Street. Where the Quarter’s streets were just wide enough for the crowds of people and maze-like, Canal Street was a wide road with palm trees in the middle running up and down it. There was music coming from several shops that appeared to be much bigger than the ones in the Quarter, and while some were tourist shops, others were well-recognized names.

“Want to get an iced coffee there?” Jolie pointed at a fast-food chain across the street. “I know I’ll like their coffee.”

“You came all the way to New Orleans to go to a chain? We just ate breakfast,” Kyle replied .

“But I didn’t have coffee. Come on. I’m getting a pie, too.”

“There are pies everywhere here; this is the South,” Kyle said as Jolie tugged on her hand to get them to a light, where she pressed the button to get the sign for walking to light up.

A few minutes later, they were standing in a line at the fast-food restaurant where Jolie did order two apple pies but changed her mind on the coffee and got sweet tea instead. Thirty minutes after that, they were getting out of an Uber at the location for their tour, and Jolie hadn’t stopped talking since they’d gotten in.

“Okay. No more sugar for you.” Kyle took the near-empty cup and dropped it into the trash can.

“Hey!” Jolie exclaimed. “I was drinking that.”

Kyle rolled her eyes at her younger sister and walked to an old-looking wooden building, where she saw people gathering. Jolie followed behind, and they showed someone their phones to scan their tickets and were instructed where to go. The boat was long and flat, and Kyle was grateful Jolie hadn’t booked a trip on one of those boats with the big fans in the back where they had to wear headphones. This one appeared to be a little more relaxing, even though they’d be on a swamp with alligators and snakes. Fifteen minutes later, the driver of the boat, a man named Jack, introduced himself loudly and began telling them the history of the swamp and the alligator hunting that went on.

Kyle mostly didn’t listen. It was fascinating, to be sure, but she had other things on her mind. She turned her head and stared out at the landscape, which was more beautiful than she’d anticipated. When she thought of swampland before this trip, she had the idea that it was dirty and murky water all around, where nothing was visible. And while the water was a bit murky at times, and sure, muddy, too, the trees, tall grass, and the sky above it, along with the wildlife she saw as the boat crept along in places, made the difference.

As Jolie talked to a group of women, who appeared to be about her age and were also here on vacation, Kyle thought of her grandmother and the house that was, apparently, partly hers now. She tried to push the confusing thoughts away, but they kept creeping in along with the image of the attorney who, even in his website headshots, was wearing expensive suits. He appeared to be a named partner in a big law firm in Baton Rouge, but when Kyle’s mother had spoken of her life in New Orleans prior to being kicked out of the house, she’d always described it as a house where they had less than nothing. How had her grandmother been able to afford this top-of-the-line attorney?

They hadn’t gone inside the house yet, but it looked like a well-maintained home from the outside. She was itching to get in, but she’d made promises to her hardworking sister, who had asked for this to be a vacation and not just a deep dive into their family history. She could give her this tour and some shopping later, which she expected Jolie to ask for once they got back into the city.

“Hey, they’re from Cincinnati,” Jolie said, leaning over to Kyle.

“Cool,” she replied.

“They’re here for a week or so. They invited me to hang out with them later if I wanted. You, too, but I told them you probably wouldn’t want to go.”

“What are you going to do?”

“They’re shopping on Canal Street, dinner, and then, out on Bourbon,” Jolie shared.

“Would you mind if I skip it?”

“I figured you’d say that. Are you going to go to the house?”

“I won’t if you want to go with me for the first time,” she said.

“Nah, I’m okay. I think you need this more than I do, Ky. But I also don’t want to skip out on you if you need me there.”

“Actually, time alone might be nice. I have no idea what I’ll find there.”

“Okay. Well, I’ll stop by the hotel later to change and stuff. Do you maybe want to join us for dinner, at least?”

“I’ll let you know,” she said and leaned over to look at the women more closely. “You trust them?”

Jolie nodded and replied, “Not to give my ATM PIN to, but to hang out with, yeah.”

“All right.” Kyle nodded back. “Just text me a bunch, okay?”

“Yes, Mom.” Jolie laughed.

Jack, the man who kept yelling at them from the helm of the boat, began talking about alligators again and stopped the boat to check for his favorite alligator, whom he’d named Buddy. The bag of marshmallows came out, and they spent ten minutes sitting there, watching him toss them into the water until the largest alligator Kyle had ever seen approached slowly and cautiously. She marveled at the fact that as he swam by to pick up a marshmallow, Jack reached down over the side and lifted Buddy’s tail out of the water to show them all just how long the creature was. Kyle prepared for Buddy to yank this man into the water and tear him to shreds, but the animal just kept swimming around the boat even after the marshmallows were all eaten. They each got to hold a baby alligator with its mouth banded shut, and she was certain she was taking part in something that wasn’t exactly good for the alligators, but Jack had assured them that they often removed the babies from the swamp because they would get eaten otherwise, and by the time the boat was back at the dock, Kyle had to admit that she’d had fun.

Jolie had agreed to meet the women back at the Canal Street chain restaurant in an hour, giving them time to return to the hotel and change. Kyle didn’t need to, but she decided to take a few things with her to the house. She wasn’t sure if there was heat or air conditioning still turned on and also wasn’t sure about the food situation, so she filled her backpack with some extra clothes and the few snacks they had. Then, she said goodbye to her sister, asking her again to check in often, and decided she’d walk to the house, which was only a couple of miles away from the hotel, it turned out. Normally, if Kyle walked somewhere, she’d put her headphones in, but she wanted to listen to the sounds of New Orleans. She smiled every time the music changed from place to place, and she picked up a new sound. Stopping in an art gallery, she saw paintings of the Quarter and Jackson Square. She didn’t have enough time today to truly check things out, but she decided she wanted to come back here and look more. Maybe she’d buy something small that she could take back with her. Then again, she’d heard about the artists that often hung their stuff around Jackson Square. She might find something there, too.

Hours later, her feet were tired, but she’d arrived. Key in hand, Kyle approached the home her grandmother had, apparently, lived in for decades. She took a deep breath and put the key in the door. When she turned it, she wasn’t sure why she was surprised that it worked, but with the door unlocked, she pushed it open and took a step inside. What greeted her wasn’t the smell of must, dust, and mold how she’d expected, given the climate here and the fact that it had been vacant for weeks now. Instead, it smelled like coffee and maybe cinnamon or nutmeg. Kyle didn’t know if the electricity was still on, but she flicked the light switch next to the door to check, and the living room illuminated in light.

She looked around and noticed an old white leather sofa that looked comfortably worn in, a real fireplace that looked as if it had been used but maintained, a glass cabinet with knickknacks, and an old recliner. A light-wood table sat between the sofa and the chair, and there was a small TV in the corner that had an actual foil antenna on top of it that had Kyle laughing to herself. She closed the door behind her, locked it just to be safe, and set her backpack on the chair. The floor creaked a little when she took a few steps, but she’d expect that in a place like this.

Directly in front of her appeared to be the open door to the kitchen, so she walked inside and turned on another light. It was clean. Not a dirty dish in sight and not a speck of dust on the kitchen table that had a bouquet of fake flowers in the middle of it inside a white vase with a fleur-de-lis on the side of it. Kyle wanted to spend more time in each room but needed to get an overall understanding of the house first, so she left the kitchen and walked directly into a bathroom, which was small but neatly kept. There were two bedrooms. One was obviously her grandmother’s and was again, surprisingly, well attended to. The second bedroom was the biggest surprise of all, though.

“Mom?” she whispered to herself.

The room was for a teenager and had several pictures of her mother pinned to the walls and taped to the mirror of what looked to be a makeup table with very old makeup still sitting on it, waiting to be used by a teenage girl who would never come home.