The following Sunday, Tony had to pay up for his lost bowling bet with brunch at the House of Blues. Like everyone with a new boyfriend, I had sort of disappeared off the radar for a while. So after the break with Rick I finally surfaced and Tony and I planned it for noon. Admittedly, the place is a chain. The entertainment is sort of luck of the draw. One weekend you can see a phenomenal New Orleans local talent, the next some middling national singer on the road, or star on the way down after a single one-hit wonder.
We got a great table and listened to a gospel singer with a killer set of pipes.
"You're as good as she is," Tony said, smothering his eggs with ketchup. Drowning them in it.
"New York, here I come." My confidence was growing. In the week since the night in the garden, it had rained almost every day, so that meant very little planting had been done. It basically looked as if a tornado had ripped through the yard. However, this had given me time to adjust to the fact that I was certain I was ready to leave. But first, I would sing at the Mississippi Mudslide to honor my mentor, Red. I planned to tell him that afternoon.
"The city that never sleeps. And are you ready to fess up to the fact that you are destined to be a jazz singer."
"Red and I use the term blues goddess."
"Ahhh… you're a goddess now."
"As Dominique would say, a sexy young blues goddess."
"I better pay my respects then." Tony had dressed in a black silk T-shirt and dress pants. He had freshly shaved. I noticed the waitress eyeing him. I felt a surge of protectiveness.
We sat and enjoyed the music, eating eggs and slinging back beers. Since I said I would go to New York after he did, neither of us had mentioned it again. I had no idea where he was going to live. What he was going to do when he got there. I got the sense that Tony was a man who didn't make many plans. He had arrived at the Heartbreak Hotel with a single suitcase and a box of gardening tools. The next day he came over with more plants than I'd even seen in a nursery. I had no idea if he rented space somewhere or grew them all in his bathtub. Plants aside, he traveled so light, I assumed one day he would simply disappear and send a postcard. Not unlike my father.
I liked watching him as he listened to the music. Most guys I knew hadn't really a clue about good music. If it was on the radio, it was good enough for them. Tony's eyes shut at times when the singers voice took him away somewhere else. For someone so tough-looking, with his eyes closed he looked, for a moment, like an innocent boy. When he opened his eyes again, I was struck by how handsome he was.
We drank beer all afternoon, then headed back home.
"Next time, double or nothing on the bowling." I smiled and kissed his cheek.
"I'm changing my clothes and then off to try the garden. It's likely to be all mud, but I'll give it a shot."
I headed over to Red's.
"Sugar, you look happy today." He smiled as he opened the door. "You over that bad man?"
In fact, I had cried over Rick several times, and screened all my calls. Dominique and Maggie had taken turns sitting on my bed with me, old movies on the television, passing me tissues. Dominique listened patiently as I went over
each
and
every
nuance of everything, every word, every movement of Rick's. At the end of the week, I was still missing him, but I was aching a little bit less. I would do something and realize a whole hour had gone by in which I hadn't thought of him. That was progress.
"Not over him yet. Something else… Red… I'm ready for the Mississippi Mudslide."
"Ye-oowwwwwwwwwwwwwwww!" he screamed. Then he started doing a little jig right in front of me.
"Then after that, Red, I think I'm going to go audition for your friend Charlie."
"Oh… he will snatch you up in a New York minute. Wait until I call him. Man, this is good news. Now, we got to celebrate."
"Chivas?"
"No… something extra special."
He went into the kitchen and returned with a bottle of Dom Perignon.
"Red… that's way too expensive. Where the heck did you get that?"
"Why don't you ask me
when
I got it."
"Okay, when?"
"The first Sunday you came here. After you and Tony came to the club and you sang Etta. Not many people can sing that song right. That week I went out and bought it. I just knew, in my heart, that you were the one I'd been waitin' for. I been sittin' here kind of lonely all these years. Kind of retired. Livin' off piano lessons and some money my brother left me. And when you and Tony kept coming to the 'Slide, I figured you were just a starstruck kid. Till I heard you sing, of course. I said to myself, 'Red, here comes the one. The blues goddess you been waitin' for all your life. The one that'll put all the others to shame.' And so I bought this and been saving it in my fridge, waiting until you said these very words."
I didn't know what to say. I never knew he had that kind of faith in me.
"I got one more bottle of Dom Perignon in there, too."
"What for?" I asked, expecting him to say it was for when I got a recording contract.
"For when I ask your nan to marry me and she says yes."
"Red!" I squealed. "When are you going to ask her?"
"I don't rightly know. She's a very independent-minded woman, your nan."
"That she is." That and then some. I thought of how she said she'd never marry again. But I also knew if I left New Orleans, I would feel infinitely happier knowing she was in that haunted house of ours with Red.
"But I love her very much. And I know she loves me."
"I know that, too, Red. Have you given thought to that crazy house? You know, it's a bit… noisy. It's a little different from this place."
Different
wasn't the word. You haven't lived until you've fought with two drag queens over a shower schedule. I knew she'd never leave it. She wanted to die in that house and come back and haunt me.
"You know, I been set in my ways a while, but when I'm over at that house, I suppose I'm always laughing, and there's always a commotion. And that keeps us all young. As long as I could have my piano. Besides, I got to convince her to say yes, first."
Red popped the cork on the champagne, and we toasted my future. Then we decided on which songs we would do at the Mississippi Mudslide.
"You really don't need an audition. I just have to tell Hugh what night we want to play there."
"In four weeks, a Friday, I don't have a wedding. We had one, but the bride unexpectedly broke her engagement. So… we could do it then. Besides, I have to do it before Tony finishes the garden."
"The garden?"
"He's redoing Nan's garden, and when he's done, he's leaving for New York, and I'm going to follow him. But I want him to be there when I sing."
"Tony and I have had a few talks about jazz. He's one cool number."
"Well, at least I would have some company. I don't have a plan, and I don't know what the hell I'm doing, Red. But for the first time, I don't care. Am I nuts?"
"Nah, you ain't crazy… it's just what the doctor ordered. In a month then. I'll check with Hugh. Man… he's going to be excited. I've been talking you up for over a year now."
Fear hit me in my gut. "What if I don't live up to his expectations."
Red raised his champagne glass. "Impossible, sugar. All you've got to do is sing."
Tony spent the week furiously working on the garden. I spent the week working on my repertoire and listening to my father's old albums. Now that I had started down the path toward leaving, even though it was still just Tony's and my secret—and Red's—I felt a surging freedom inside. When I had to sing "Dancing Queen" by ABBA it didn't bother me the way it used to.
I also told myself that though I would pack a suitcase and leave New Orleans, the Big Easy would always be my home. I was off on an adventure, to shake the complacency out of my life. In a way, I owed some of it to Casanova Jones, cheating bastard that he was. By hurting me, he had forced me to look around. It was as if all the pieces were falling into place.
At night, I would read my aunt Irene's diary. She had the blues but bad. I didn't know whether to tell Nan what I had read, but I found myself urging Irene to leave New Orleans, to get out of the house, away from the ghost of Sadie. It was her only chance to move on and to live, but I already knew the ending; like seeing a movie before reading the novel.
The following Sunday after a spectacular practice at Red's, I came home singing the blues but feeling happy inside. Dominique greeted me at the door.
"Terrence called me."
"And?"
"And we're having dinner. Is this eat-your-heart-out-yes-I-still-love-you outfit material?"
I stepped back. Dominique was wearing a black, backless dress.
"Halston?"
"Yes? Thrift store. How'd you guess?"
"Had that look. I love it. Understated makeup. Pearl earrings… nice touch. Pearl choker… a tad Barbara Bush."
"No choker." She undid the clasp and handed me the necklace. "Cheap pearls anyway."
"Okay. I would say this is eat-your-heart-out material."
"I've tried to not love him. I've tried to hate him. I've tried to champagne him away. Hurricane him away. Laugh him away. Cry him away. But I still love him, sugarcakes."
"Then have a good time, baby."
She air-kissed me so as to not mess up her lipstick.
"Oh… your grandmother has someone in the garden. Tony's there, too. They're talking. I think they want you to meet them out there."
"Who is it?"
She shrugged. "I've been running around getting ready. I don't know."
"Good luck." I squeezed her hand. I went into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. Nan had a freshly uncorked bottle of champagne, the bubbles still rising. I poured myself a glass and headed out to the garden. A male voice murmured. First I heard Tony's deep voice, with the brogue. Then Nan's. Then another voice. Smooth. Soft. Unfamiliar.
I stepped out in the garden in the dusk of late summer. Tony's efforts were starting to pay off. Honeysuckle scents greeted me. Nan and Tony stood talking to a tall gentleman. I approached, and all three turned to face me.