Good Woman Blues (43 page)

“Excuse me ladies, but my new ‘normal’ life
is calling me. I’m going to eat my dinner and call it a night. I
need rest. I have two twelve-hour workdays before the weekend.”
Erikka dug into her buffalo wings salad.

“C’mon. The Erikka I knew could work all day,
party half the night, and still blow a dude’s mind on Saturday,”
Hope said. She exchanged a high five with Karin.

Erikka patted her lips in a ladylike gesture.
“I’ll have to take a rain check on reggae and revenge, as sweet as
that would be. I have to conserve my energy for a different kind of
VIP.”

“Really?” her friends said in unison. Three
sets of professionally waxed eyebrows arched.

“Real as it gets in this cold, cruel world.
Believe that,” Erikka replied, with a broad smile.

***

That weekend Erikka held on tight to
Gabriel’s hand as they strolled through Jackson Square. The
early-evening air in New Orleans was still heavy with summer
humidity. A breeze from the Mississippi River helped. Horse- drawn
carriages filled with tourists went by. The clip-clop of hooves
mixed with strains of New Orleans jazz from a club. Gabriel looked
just as at ease in the heart of this restless city as he did on the
bayou. He wore a mint green cotton Henley T-shirt with all four
buttons undone. Just a hint of the hair on his chest could be seen.
Enough of a glimpse to attract female attention. The scent of the
river seemed to draw him. Erikka was content to follow his
lead.

They climbed the stairs leading to the paved
walkway along the levee. At the top a street musician blew his
heart out on a tenor sax. Without stopping, they added a few
dollars to the open case at his feet. The man nodded his thanks and
kept on playing a snappy version of a Louis Armstrong classic.
Erikka hummed along, and then sang a few snatches of the lyrics to
“Do You Know What It Means to Miss New Orleans?” Gabriel swung her
around suddenly, and they danced. The sax player decided to join
in. Smiling his approval, the man seemed to dedicate his
performance to them.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Erikka
laughed.

“I’m romancing my lady. Enjoy the ride,”
Gabriel said.

“Go, man,” a teenager called out.

“That is so sweet. C’mon, Ernest.” A short
plump woman in a bright floral short set yanked at her husband.

“Not me. It’s too hot out here,” Ernest
grumbled. He walked off, fanning his face with the Panama hat he
held.

“That’s what they’re like after a few years,”
she said to Erikka, with a grimace. Then she walked after her
husband, complaining.

Gabriel shook his head with a grin and gazed
down at Erikka. “Never. I’m going to buy you flowers, fix your
dinner, and dance with you on river levees for a long time.”

“Is that right? Maybe I’d better get that in
writing,” Erikka teased, and put her head on his shoulder.

The sky deepened to layers of fiery orange,
pink grapefruit, and deep blue. Two tugboats drifted by, going in
opposite directions, each pushing flat barges. They seemed to have
stepped into a postcard. A guitarist joined the sax player. They
started a street party as more couples danced. The music slowed to
a soulful rendition of “At Last.”

“Seems like we started something,” Gabriel
said, with a wave of one hand.

Erikka looked around them, and then gazed
into his eyes. She brushed a finger through his dark hair. “Yes, we
did.”

Gabriel must have heard something in her
voice. He glanced at her. “How will it end?”

“Like any great romance, happily ever after.”
Erikka breathed in the spicy sandalwood cologne on his skin. She
kissed his cheek. His salty-sweet flavor only heightened her
appetite.

He stopped dancing. Gabriel seemed to hold
his breath for a second. “You live in New Orleans, and I live in
the swamp. One of us has to move sooner or later.”

“Mm-hmm.” Erikka kissed him again. Her lips
lingered against the smooth-shaven cheek. She pressed her mouth
against his neck.

“Not that I just have to live so far away
from you.” Gabriel breathed faster each time she kissed him.

Erikka wrapped both arms around his body and
pushed against him as another tune started. They danced as they
looked into each other’s eyes. “I love the view from your deck
though,” she said finally.

“I don’t want you to give up your career when
it’s taking off. You always wanted just what your bosses are
offering.” Gabriel led her in a slow two-step to a Zydeco
ballad.

“What I thought I wanted. I’ve got a plan.
Tell me what you think,” Erikka whispered in his ear, as though
drawing him into a delightful conspiracy.

Gabriel pulled her away from the small crowd
that had gathered. Strains of the song being played faded into
background music. They stood wrapped in each other’s arms, alone in
their own world.

“I can’t wait to hear it.” Gabriel planted
gentle kisses along the bridge of her nose.

“I’ll work at the firm another year, make
lots of money, then work for myself. I’ll have an office in New
Orleans for a while. Then, once I’m established, I’ll have a home
office in Loreauville.”

“Won’t your clients mind you being so far
away?” Gabriel asked.

“Between the e-mail, fax machines, and
tablets, they won’t know the difference. Look, if folks can hire
accountants in India to do their taxes, they can sure as hell hire
me in Loreauville.”

“I like that plan. You said ‘home office.’ ”
Gabriel studied her as though looking for a very important
answer.

“Yeah. One with a view of the bayou.”

Gabriel cupped her chin with one large hand.
He kissed her for a long time. Their bodies pressed together as the
last light of day faded. Erikka felt as though she might float
away. Gabriel let out a long sigh.

“Our home. I like the sound of that,” he said
softly.

“I
love
the sound of it.” Erikka
rested her head on his chest.

Epilogue

Two Months Later

Monique circled Erikka for the third time,
making sure her dress draped perfectly. “Girl, you look fantastic.
That dress is off the hook.”

“Makes me nervous just thinking about saying
‘I do,’ ” Terri said. She tugged at the top of her ruby red
bridesmaid’s dress. The spaghetti straps fell again, and she
muttered an oath.

They were in a small room near the entrance
of St. Michael’s Catholic Church in Loreauville. Erikka’s
grandmother had insisted that the family church be the site of her
wedding. Gabriel’s mother had huffed, but said nothing more. Even
through the thick walls they could hear the strains of organ music
playing.

“Watch your language,” Karin fussed.

“Sorry.” Terri yanked at the dress. “Don’t
blame me if this thing slips off. I’m kinda small up top. Anybody
got padding?”

“Here. Don’t make Erikka nervous,” Karin
said, and handed her wads of tissues.

“I’m cool. Nothing, not even an all-out war
could spoil this day.” Erikka smiled at them all.

“You look radiant.” Terri grinned at her.

Hope came in and shut the door behind her. “I
almost wish I wasn’t in the wedding. We’re missing all the fun,”
she said to Terri and Karin.

“What are you talking about?” Erikka smoothed
down the soft white satin bodice of her wedding gown.

“I think your mother is gonna slap your
daddy’s new girlfriend. And Craig looks like he wants to kick
Hakeem—”

“Don’t you dare say it up in God’s house,”
Karin cut her off.

“Down the church steps,” Hope finished, and
giggled again.

“Hey, y’all, we need happy vibes to surround
the bride. So stuff it,” Monique commanded. She turned to Erikka as
she adjusted the veil. “You just concentrate on your special day,
sweetie.”

“No problem. Besides, they’ll be back
together in a few weeks. Six months tops.” Erikka gazed at her
reflection in the full-length mirror. She touched her face with the
tips of her fingers.

“I don’t know. They’re looking like they
could happily strangle each other.” Hope grinned as though she
looked forward to the fight. “I put my money on Roz. She’s
tough.”

Jaci stuck her head in the door. “Everybody
get set. Erikka, when I can tear Daddy away from frowning at Mama’s
boy-toy he’ll be ready.”

“Relax, Jaci. Everything is going to turn out
just fine.” Erikka wore a serene expression as she made one last
turn in front of the mirror. She loved the swish of silk and
organza. Everything about this day seemed magical.

Darlene, her matron of honor, came in. “I’d
like my turn talking to the bride,” she said.

“Sure.” Jaci shooed everyone out and
continued to issue orders.

“Gotta hand it to Roz. She was right about
the dress.” Darlene nodded.

“Shh, we can’t let her hear that.” Erikka
laughed.

“Agreed.” Darlene wore a wistful smile.

“Are you okay?” Erikka hooked her arm around
Darlene’s elbow.

“Yes, I have been since I dumped Kelvin. I’m
too good for him.” Darlene breathed in deeply and let out a long
sigh.

“You are so right,” Erikka agreed.

“But this is your day. I came in here full of
advice about not repeating my mistakes. Or your mother’s either.”
Darlene’s smile brightened as she took a step back. “But on second
thought, I think you’ve got this one.

“Thanks, Darlene. I’m going to be marching
down the aisle in front of you one of these days.” Erikka hugged
her.

“Baby, please.” Darlene laughed. Then she
lifted her head. “You just might be right.”

“There you go.” Erikka laughed with her.

“Everything all right in here?” Roz came in.
“You are working that wedding gown, girl. Wait, you didn’t put on
enough of your Miracle Concealer. Here let me.”

Erikka gazed in the mirror again. She liked
the woman looking back at her for a lot of reasons. “No, I
didn’t.”

“Sweetie, I don’t think—” When Erikka faced
her, Roz gazed at her in silence for a few seconds. “You look
perfectly lovely.”

Erikka forgot everyone else when she left the
anteroom and took her stepfather’s arm. The double doors swung
open, and she walked down the center aisle. Flower petals on the
floor stirred around the hem of her gown. Gabriel waited for her
with one hand outstretched. The blues would be taking a very long
holiday.

Mix knowledge of voodoo, Louisiana politics
and forensic social work with the dedication to write fiction while
working each day as a clinical social worker, and you get a
snapshot of author Lynn Emery. Lynn has been a contributing
consultant to the magazine Today’s Black Womanfor three articles
about contemporary relationships between black men and women. For
more information visit:

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