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The parade doesn’t step off until dark, but it’s all hands on deck today. R.J. will be on the knights’ float with his friends, Isaac and his mother, sisters, and brothers-in-law are on another, and Daddy will be on yet another one for senior members. Mama was supposed to ride with him,
so they offered me her spot, but I declined. This year, I just want to watch. I want to see the parade as if I were a visitor. After I leave in the fall, perhaps that’s all I’ll ever be in Mobile.

Mr. Cline isn’t riding and Dave didn’t rent a car, so we carpool. Downtown will be insane, packed with tailgaters, revelers, tourists and locals, all smashed together against the metal crowd-control fences that line the parade route.

“Over there, dear. On the sidewalk.” Mr. Cline’s eagle eye lands us a creative parking spot near the Mystics’ float barn, where things are even crazier. There’s hardly a sober soul among them and the parade is still hours away. I locate R.J. and the knights’ float while Mr. Cline and Dave head down the line to find Mrs. Laroche and Isaac. The guys load their throws—beads, commemorative cups, and doubloons—onto their float with as much grace as a two-legged donkey. R.J. sees me and waves me over. His breath reeks of vodka.

“Juli, my favorite baby sister. Thanks for breakfast, by the way. That bagel’s doing a good job of soaking up the syrup I poured on top, if ya know what I mean.” He tries to wink, but his eyes don’t quite sync up.

Geoffrey Swann wanders over—and I do mean
wanders
—but unlike his indifferent snub at the New Year’s Eve party, today he gives me the once-over.

“Julianne, may I say you look particularly fine today? Oh, I just did!” He elbows R.J. and they crack up.

What’s really humorous is the King Felix III costume he wears. Well, half of it. From the waist down he sports gold satin breeches and white stockings up to the knee. Golden swan buckles on his black shoes reflect the sun. From the waist up he’s wearing a red Alabama University shirt with suspicious wet spots dribbled all over. His sunglasses look pretty incongruous with his crooked crown, too.

He leans in close and whispers in my ear. “Lost the baby fat when you became a woman, eh? Perhaps you wouldn’t mind being a good subject and servicing your king later.”

He squeezes my bottom and it’s all I can do not to smack him
.
What stops me is the whooshing sound in my ears and the icy knife that twists in my gut.

He knows. How?

Isaac and I have been so careful to cover our tracks. R.J. doesn’t suspect and Daddy doesn’t have a clue. They’d both freak.
Oh, God.
If Geoffrey knows, and he opens his big mouth…
oh
.

I compose my face before Geoffrey sees he’s upset me and before R.J. asks what’s wrong. I need to find Isaac. No. I need to stay
away
from Isaac. I need…I need to get out of here. My pulse races and the whooshing
makes
it hard to hear. I make my face a blank slate. All those years of Mama’s training kicks in.

Not happy with my lack of response, Geoffrey leans toward me, but I recoil. Spittle hits my cheek as he pulls me closer. If I pull away, I’ll wrench my shoulder.

“How’s your mama doing? I’ve heard some juicy tidbits. Guess that makes you damaged goods, twice over. You should stay on my good side
,
sweetheart.”

“Hey, man, back off my sister. Maybe we ought to lay off the booze for a while, you know? We got a long day ahead of us.”

“Little late for that, don’t you think? I was just having a nice conversation with Julianne. But we’re done. For now.” Geoffrey chucks me under the chin and I want to vomit all over his ugly, bird-themed shoes.

He turns, a dismissal, and takes a few steps before I make my move.

“Hey, Geoffrey, I almost forgot to tell you, I was in Boston a couple of weeks ago auditioning at the New England Conservatory. See, I’ll be heading to college in the fall, and I hoped you might have some advice for me. You know, since you’re already in college.”

He smirks, but he doesn’t take the bait.

“But then I heard some ‘juicy tidbits’ about you, too. You got kicked out, right?
For gambling.
And yet you’re still King Felix, though you pissed away all the money set aside for Mardi
Gras
. Did Mommy and Daddy have to pay for your Felix stuff all over again? Guess that makes you a royal fuck-up. Twice over.”

The pulse in his neck jumps. “My, my, such language from a young woman. What will you do next, Miss Casquette?
Laissez les
bons
temps
rouler
!
” He raises his bottle and disappears into the crowd.

“What the hell, Juli?” R.J. asks.

“Nothing. He’s just drunk. I hope he takes a swan dive off his float.”

“No, that’s Daddy’s float.”

“Huh?”

“Swan Dive. That’s the theme.”

“Right. Swan Dive.”

All the floats are swan-related, as per the
Swanns
’ orders…The Ugly Duckling, Leda and the Swan—that’s Isaac’s—Swan Lake, Swan Song, The Black Swan—Marcie Swann is on that one—and
Swanee
River. I swear the Mystics have acquired every fake white feather this side of the Mason-Dixon Line.

“Look, do you guys have everything you need? I want to go find Mr. Cline and Dave.”

“Yeah, go. Have fun.
But not too much fun.
That guy’s still got the hots for you.”

“Shut up, he does not.”

“Does too.” R.J. pulls a flask out of his pocket and takes a swig. With another time-delayed wink, he melts into the crowd.

I turn around, and not ten yards away, Mr. Cline and Dave are deep in conversation. I head over and they abruptly stop.

“Is…everything okay?”

“It is now, gorgeous.” Dave loops his arm around my waist and pulls me close.

“Liar.” I wriggle out of his grasp.

Mr. Cline taps his cane on the pavement. “Juli, dear, let’s go find a great spot along the parade route. It’s been years since I got to watch as a bystander.”

We push our way past the tailgating crowds, the bars and churches. Once we reach Government Street, we decide against playing the Mystics card to sit in the reserved grandstands. Instead, we find a spot against the barricades across from the Carnival Museum.

Next to us, a little girl in a pink rhinestone cowboy hat shoots a bubble gun at her brother. Dave squats down and pulls a quarter from behind her ear and she squeals. “Reminds me of
Maddie
,” he says.

I look up at the beads caught in the trees lining the street and think of all the years I spent on Junior Court. It’s weird to be on this side of the barriers, but I’m okay with it. I hope they replaced me with a nice girl who enjoys these parades more than I did.

After a society called the Order of Neptune marches by, Mr. Cline sags against the metal fence.

“I forget I have limits,” he says. “Looks like it’s the grandstands for me after all. But you two stay here. Don’t let me ruin your fun.”

The tone of his voice is off. I turn in time to catch a meaningful glance between him and Dave. As soon as Mr. Cline is gone, Dave starts joking.

“So at what point do you—” He pulls up his shirt and shakes what he’s got. Or doesn’t, in this case.

“Stop it! There are little kids around. It’s not like that here.”

“It’s not?”

“No, look around. This is a family event. You’re thinking of New Orleans.”

“Then what are we waiting for? Let’s blow this taco stand.”

“Taco stand? And you Yankees accuse us of having weird sayings.”

“Seriously, let’s go. We could leave now and be there in two hours.”

“Dave, level with me. What’s going on? I saw you and Mr. Cline looking at each other funny, and now you’re suggesting we leave Mobile. Whatever it is, it can’t be that big a deal. I’m not important enough for it to be a big deal.”

“First, yes you are. To some of us, you’re very important. Second, there’s nothing I’d like more than to transport you across state lines, ply you with alcohol, and make you forget all about Mobile and everyone in it.”

“Would you stop it?”

“Stop what?”

“All your flirty comments. All you are is talk.”

“Which is why I’m so good at it. Now come here.”

“Seriously?”

“Just come here, will you? Stop being stubborn for once. Besides, you should trust me by now. I’m wounded.”

I shake my head, but I let him pull me in for a hug.

He lowers his mouth to my ear. “I don’t like all this weirdness between us. It’s giving me crow’s feet, and I found a gray chest hair yesterday.”

“
Ew
!” I smack him in said chest.

“Listen to me. I’ve got a bad feeling about the ball. Let’s just go somewhere. You and me.”

“Dave, I can’t just abandon the ball. I wouldn’t expect you to understand, but you don’t just ditch a Mardi
Gras
ball. It’s kind of a big deal.”

“Not as big a deal as you, kitten.”

I sigh. I’m helpless against Dave’s flattery. I don’t know how I stayed mad at him for an entire week.

“You really are my best friend, you know that?”

He pulls my arms away from his neck and backs away. “Oh God, the kiss of death.”

“What?”

“
You’re my best friend.
Just cut off my b—”

I clap a hand over his mouth. “Children, Dave!
Ew
.” I wipe my hand on my pants.

“You had it coming. At least let me think I still have a chance.”

“You mean like the chance you turned down? Sorry, Dave. I’m taken now.”

He turns his head and looks at the city skyline. “Me, too.”

An hour later, the sun has gone down and the Mystics take to the streets. The parade is a success, despite the knights’ obvious inebriation. They rock their float so hard it cracks in a couple of places, but the crowds are happy and I only get smacked in the face by beads a couple of times. Dave gets whacked in the head with a full box of Moon Pies and takes a bag of peanuts
to the cheek. When it’s over, we find Mr. Cline and race out of there with our loot. I drop them off and return home to change for the ball.

I’m already waiting by the back door when Mr. Cline pulls in the driveway. I take one last look in the mirror, tuck a curl behind my ear, and grab my mask. Outside, Mr. Cline executes a formal bow, opens my car door, and closes it behind me. He slides behind the wheel, but doesn’t drive. He turns to me with a face paler than the moon over his shoulder. His next words send my heart racing.

“Julianne, there’s something we need to discuss.”

Chapter Twenty

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong, per se, but it could be soon, darling. I also need to apologize.”

“What on earth could you have to apologize for?”

“I’m afraid I may have put you in harm’s way, Julianne. Not physical harm, but a kind just as damaging. I realize I’m old-fashioned, but I believe one’s reputation still counts for something. And I never meant to put yours on the line when I introduced you to Isaac.”

“Mr. Cline—”

“Please, let me explain. When I was in the hospital, I thought I was dying. I thought my life’s work had come to an end. When I realized I was going to survive, I assumed it was someone’s way of telling me I still hadn’t fulfilled my purpose here.”

The thought of him dying—how I’d felt the night Daddy told me the news—makes my heart skip around in my rib cage.

“My sister tells me I began mumbling your name as soon as I came to.”

He reaches across the
arm rest
to take my hand.

“Julianne, forgive an old man and his soft heart, but you’re the daughter I never had. Or granddaughter, I suppose. Likewise, in almost every way, Isaac is my son. Nothing would make me happier than to see you two successful and happy.
Your temperaments are so similar
,
it’s frightening
. You’re both determined, intense, and immensely talented.”

He sighs and looks out the window. I use that moment to wipe away a renegade tear.

“I only wish others could be as mature about things as you two. At the float barn this morning, I heard some unsettling things. Things I will not lower myself to repeat. Suffice it to say, your involvement with Isaac has made great fodder for the Mystics’ rumor mill. Add to that the incident with your mother, and…”

He shrugs. Not an “Oh well” shrug, but a “You are so screwed” shrug.

“I want you to be prepared for tonight. If at any time you want to leave, just say the word. I will stay by your side the entire time, though I have no doubt you can take care of yourself. Just know that I am always,
always
here if you need me. You understand?”