Page 30 of Unconventionally, Elle

Nine years ago

Our love was an easy love. Not always perfect but easy.

It was our first Mardi Gras together and we were meeting Jude's mother in Uptown to watch the parades.

If there was ever a mama's boy in this world, it was Jude Ashford.

He talked to his mother every day, and every Wednesday they went to lunch together.

On Mondays, the three of us gathered at her Uptown home and enjoyed a New Orleans staple--red beans and rice.

"You let the beans sit overnight, Elle. That's the trick. And a generous amount of Tony's once you're ready to set the slow cooker. Don't forget the Tony's, all right?" she'd tell me as if passing down a family recipe.

Mrs. Ava Ashford lived on Prytania Street in an enormous plantation home that had been divided into condos. Jude had purchased the condo for her shortly after he won his first big case.

Even though it was a regular Tuesday everywhere else, Jude and I both had the day off for Mardi Gras.

Mardi Gras was much more than throwing beads to women who took their shirts off; it was a way of life.

It included weeks of parades and balls, along with wild costumes and wild enthusiasm.

In NOLA, they took the phrase "laissez les bons temps rouler" very seriously.

Jude's mother was animated and warm. I loved visiting her and sharing a cup of espresso on her porch. She must have been watching out the window as we parked, because before I could gather the king cake in my arms and shut my door, she was rushing through the iron gate to squeeze me into a hug.

"Hey, Mama Ava." My voice was muffled by the closeness of her hug. She pulled away and gave me a kiss on each cheek. Her own cheeks were rosy, and her mouth spread into the biggest joyous smile.

"Elle! My darling, Elle. I'm so glad you are with us today. It's a good day. A beautiful day." She grabbed my hands and gave a gentle squeeze. "It's Mardi Gras." Her excitement was contagious.

I felt my own smile spreading across my face.

She was beaming as Jude walked around the front of his Range Rover and pulled her into him. "Oh! My boy, my boy." She hugged him tighter.

"I'm glad you're excited to see me too and not just our girl here." He winked over at me above his mother's head.

"Let's go inside, come, let's go." She shuffled us into the quaint, decorated condo. I stole a glance at Jude. His smile made my body tingle, and his wink--now that was just plain deadly.

"I love your decorations. It's so festive in here!

" I exclaimed as we stepped across the threshold.

She still had her Christmas tree up, but instead of Christmas decorations, there was purple-green-and-gold garland, oversized beads, and--were those.

..? Yes--even king cake ornaments spread throughout the branches.

"Oh, my girl. Thank you." She beamed and looked to Jude. "Isn't the tree pretty? The sweet girl upstairs helped me decorate it."

"Yes, it's very beautiful, Mom," he said with a heartfelt sparkle in his eye. There was never any question about how much this man loved his mother.

"Oh, my boy." With a warm smile, his mother reached up and patted his cheek. She loved to call him "her boy."

The sun dipped below the horizon, and the parade was only beginning.

We watched flambeaux, marching bands, and so many extravagant floats.

It was overwhelming and thrilling to see all of the beads flying through the air and wrapping around oak trees and power lines.

Children sat on their ladders, seats included, and parents stood with them to help them catch all of the parade's goodies.

A marching band was approaching, and I felt someone's arms wrap around my stomach.

Jude smelled of whiskey and sweat. Even though it was getting dark, it was still over eighty degrees outside. I smiled to myself and leaned back into his broad chest. His heart thumped steadily into my back. He leaned his mouth to my ear, and his breath sent goose bumps down my arms.

"My beautiful girl," he whispered. The world didn't exist; it was just me and him, our little bubble. I couldn't hear the band playing or the crowd yelling. All I heard was his voice swimming through my head. "My Elle Belle, I love you."

"I love you too," I whispered back.

My Jude. All mine.

And I was his.