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Chapter 11
February 13, 1999
Chris Breaux found
himself walking in an open pasture not far from his family's
house. His father was an accountant, but their country house
abutted a farm that raised horses as well as sugar cane. Strangely
enough, the air was warm and sweet, not the usual cold and damp
of a February in Louisiana.
Chris knelt down
to run his hand through the tall grass. Springtime, he
thought, it smells like springtime. The sun was still
low; it had to be only an hour after sunup. He gloried in the
heat of the sun on his face.
A girl's sweet laughter
invaded his thoughts. Turning, he saw a slim, dark-haired woman
walking barefoot about fifty yards from him. Her white blouse
was off her shoulders. Chris started walking towards her. As
he grew closer, he could hear her voice, low and lovely, humming
a tune. She turned her head and gave him a come-hither look over
her shoulder.
It was Marianne
Dashwood.
Chris could feel
his heart pounding as he approached the vision. Her white, lacy
top, undone to show a hint of her sweet breasts, was worn over
a swirling skirt of denim, her hair flying about her face. The
blazing sun was jealous of the smile she gave him - a smile of
pleasure and promise. Chris knew he would die if he could not
have her in his arms.
Yet he stopped a
few paces away, filling his eyes and mind and soul with the splendor
before him. Marianne was looking through her lashes at him, biting
her lips to hide the smile that kept dancing about her mouth.
"Your home
is beautiful, Chris," she said liltingly, like a song.
"Not more beautiful
than you, Mari," he was able to answer, his desire for her
almost all-consuming. "You're the most beautiful girl in
the world."
"You're so
sweet," she laughed. "But you didn't tell me it was
magical!"
Chris looked around.
"Magical? There's no magic in this place." He turned
to her again. "It only feels that way when you're here."
"Flatterer!
It is magical - look!" She bent down. "All the
creatures here are so incredibly loving - just like you are…see?"
She stood up with a dark, coiled length in her arms. "Have
you every seen such a thing?"
Chris took a step
back in surprise. "My God, Mari - that's a snake!"
"Of course
it's a snake - a big, beautiful king snake. Look how he loves
me." The creature was moving up her arms, towards her neck.
Horror was choking
the breath out of Chris. "Mari, no - that's a water moccasin!
It's poisonous! Get it off you!" He held himself back, fearing
that any sudden move might cause the serpent to strike.
Marianne was astonished
at his cry. "Chris, you're wrong - he IS a king snake. Don't
you think I know a friendly snake when I see one?" She gazed
at it. "I think I'll name him 'John.' Aww, look…he
wants a kiss…"
The moccasin opened
his cotton-white mouth, fangs gleaming in the sun.
"MARI!!!"
Chris Breaux sat
upright in his apartment bed, sweat covering his face. He looked
wide-eyed about him before falling back onto his pillow.
A dream - it
was all a dream. No - it was a goddamn nightmare.
Chris threw an arm
over his eyes as he willed his breathing back to normal. Once
he knew he could stand up without his knees giving way under
him, he rolled out of bed. Within minutes, after a short detour
to the bathroom to splash water in his face, he padded into the
kitchen and fired up the coffee maker. Continuing into the den,
he plopped down on the couch to wait for the coffee to finish
brewing, trying not to remember his nightmare.
Chris knew he had
a knack of understanding people and their motivations from a
young age. More than once he found himself in the role of mediator
while at school. It was then he decided to become a psychiatrist
and use his gifts to help people. He well remembered how his
classmates reacted when he shared his goal - many wondered what
was wrong with him, as they believed the old wives' tale
of psychiatrists joining the profession to work out their own
demons. How he laughed at their miscomprehension.
Once he was in school,
however, he found out that while most of the students entered
the field for the same reasons he did, there were enough of the
other kind for him to understand how the urban myth began.
No, Chris Breaux
knew himself to be about as level-headed a person as they came.
Because of that, he could look at situations with as much objectivity
as humanly possible. Most situations, that is. He was having
a hard time with John Waguespack and Marianne Dashwood.
Chris sighed. There
was no use denying it - he was attracted to Marianne. Sure, she
was pretty, but there were lots of pretty girls at school. It
wasn't her outer beauty that made the difference - there was
an inner beauty he sensed in her. He saw the evidence of in her
kindness, her joy in simple things, her friendship, and her talent.
He had gone to the Loyola Christmas Concert, giving in to an
urge to hear her sing, and he was blown away. Many times he had
laughed as Chuck Bingley describe this girl or that girl as "an
angel," but once Chris heard Mari's voice, he knew he had
seen one at last.
There was one problem.
She was dating John Waguespack, a fraternity brother. This was
no little obstacle. If there was any rule fraternity brothers
should never violate, it was THOU SHALL NOT STEAL A BROTHER'S
GIRL - EVER.
Chris frowned. Will
Darcy was one of his best friends, but he wasn't blind to Will's
proclivity for making judgments upon first impressions. Will
was not often wrong, but when his was, Chris was one of the first
to remind him. To Will's credit, he would freely admit his mistake
and carry no grudge.
Chris believed that
Will had made a mistake about Waguespack's character, but now
he suspected that his roommate had been right all along. The
incident on Halloween Night was the catalyst for his reevaluation
of the man. Chris knew that John had lied about Bertram's condition
that night when he testified at the inquest. Tommy had done something
more than smoke a joint - Chris had seen all the signs - and
John knew what Tommy ingested. He was certain of it. The only
thing that stopped Chris from challenging John at the inquest
was that he couldn't prove it.
Nothing John had
done since the inquest had reversed the reassessment. Chris was
polite to him because that's the way Chris was. There was no
reason to shun the man, but he would never trust the bastard
again.
Which put Chris
in a delicate situation. He was interested in Mari. Mari was
dating John. John was untrustworthy, but Chris couldn't prove
it. John was a brother, subject to the code. Chris was a loyal
Alpha Iota, and would not break the code unless absolutely necessary.
And even if he did… Disparaging one suitor was no way to
recommend one's self to a girl. If it became essential to share
with Mari what Chris knew and believed of her boyfriend, he might
extract her from a deteriorating relationship, but there was
no guarantee she would then turn to him.
He sighed. Maybe
being patient was the best course of action. Things were rocky
between Mari and John, if last night's argument was any indication.
Maybe he should just wait and let the thing implode, and be there
for her when she needed a shoulder to cry on…
"Up already?"
asked a sleepy Will from his bedroom door.
"Oh, hi, Will.
Coffee's on."
A minute later Will
joined him with two steaming mugs. Chris once again was reminded
of Will's powers of observation - he had noticed that Chris liked
his coffee black years ago when they both lived in the chapter
house and remembered it to this day - and his penchant for doing
a kindness without looking for any reward in return. "What
time do you wanna leave to join up with the others on Canal Street?"
Chris looked over
at the clock on the cable box. "I guess in a couple of hours.
How's the shoulder?"
"It's okay
- I ate some Advil last night."
The two sat, enjoying
their coffee.
Will looked over
at his friend. "You noticed that fight between Mari and
Waguespack?"
Damn - he did
it again! "Yeah,
I did."
"Looks like
trouble in paradise."
"Maybe."
"You gonna
do anything about it?" Will chuckled at Chris' shocked expression.
"Don't deny it - I've seen the way you've been eyeing her."
Chris shook his
head. "You know I can't. Not now."
"Yeah, I know."
Chris decided to
get his own shot in. "How 'bout you? You going to stop kidding
yourself about Lizzy? You like her, so…"
Will's open expression
closed up. "There's nothing between me and Lizzy."
"Not yet, and
there won't be if you don't try."
Will tapped a finger
in the arm of his chair. "I know that, I know that…"
He was lost in thought. "Let me think about it."
"What's there
to think about? She's pretty, she's smart, she's not after your
money. What else are you looking for?"
Will tried to change
the subject. "Since when you are so interested in my love
life?"
"I can't wait
to see Mr. Perfect all dopey-faced in love. So - what's the problem?"
Will looked down,
his arms on his knees. "You think she likes me? You know…like,
more than just a friend?"
"You won't
know 'til you find out. But I think you've got a shot, if you
try. 'Course the question is, do you want to try?"
Will finished his
mug of coffee. "Let's see how the weekend goes." He
stood up. "I'm gonna grab a shower."
Chris sipped his
coffee. "Leave me some hot water, will ya?"
Will flexed his
shoulder with a grin. "We'll see - hydrotherapy, ya know."
~*~*~
Lizzy and Mari returned
to the Weinberg house just before eight. Emma let them in and
Lizzy made her way to the guest room to visit with her sister.
Mari joined Emma in the kitchen.
"Knock, knock,"
Lizzy said as she opened the door. She found Jane sitting up
in bed. "What 'cha doing, sleepy-head?"
Jane greeted her
sister fondly, who joined her on the bed. "I was enjoying
a rare sleep-in. This is a really dreamy bed."
"I thought
you might be still dreaming about somebody," Lizzy teased.
"Oh, Lizzy,
I had so much fun yesterday! Everybody was so nice. Mr. Weinberg
and Emma are really gracious hosts, and your friends made me
feel so welcomed."
"Especially
one," Lizzy's eyebrows went up.
As expected, Jane
blushed. "Chuck is nice…" she giggled. Lizzy just
looked at her, with a half-smile on her face. "He was a
perfect gentleman. And so interesting to talk to! Why, I could
talk with him for hours!"
"You did. Being
handsome with strong shoulders didn't hurt, did it?"
Jane was completely
embarrassed. "I don't know how that happened! One moment
we were standing around, trying to catch beads…then Cathy
was on her boyfriend's shoulders, calling out for us to do the
same…Chuck and I exchanged a glance…And the next thing
I knew I was up there!"
Lizzy was laughing.
"My big sister - love at first sight!"
"Lizzy! Don't
say that! Love! No, no, no, no! But…" She began to
laugh as well, "I do like him! He… he's coming today,
isn't he? He said he would."
"Oh, yes -
and that sister of his, as well!"
"Lizzy! Why
do you say that? I found Carrie to be perfectly normal. She is
a bit protective of her brother, that's all. We got along just
fine."
"Well, she'll
leave you alone today, I think…she's too busy going after
Will Darcy."
"Oh, really?
I didn't realize that. Are they going out?"
"No - but it's
not because of lack of effort on Carrie's part."
"Oh - I see.
It's Will who's not interested." Jane's mouth turned down.
"Poor Carrie."
Lizzy hugged her
sister. "Jane - feeling sorry for Carrie Bingley? You're
the best person I know."
"Why don't
you like her, Lizzy?"
"Oh, she's
a big phony - all Miss Golden Girl." She threw her head
back. "Look at me - aren't I gorgeous?" she said in
a breathless voice as she flipped her hand through her hair.
"It isn't because
she likes Will Darcy, is it?"
Lizzy blinked at
her sister's question. "Why should I care about that?"
Jane was about to
say how impressed she was when she had first met Will and his
family back in January when the bedroom door opened. "Hey!"
cried Emma as she and Mari poked their heads through the doorway,
"let's get a move on! We got breakfast downstairs."
"It's king
cake," added Mari, "strawberry cream cheese."
Lizzy gave a hoot.
"C'mon, Jane - get dressed or there won't be any left for
you!"
~*~*~
A HISTORY OF MARDI GRAS
A series for the Loyola VOICE by Lizzy Boudreaux
You just know that
since this is New Orleans, the food capital of the nation - sorry,
New York and San Francisco - that there would be an Official
Mardi Gras food. There is and its name is king cake.
You've all had it
- an oval tube, tasting somewhat like a cinnamon roll, with purple,
gold and green stuff on the top. But where did it come from?
King cakes have
been around for a long time. Its roots, like so much in Louisiana,
come from France. But if you ever ate a French king cake, you
wouldn't recognize it. It's round, but the texture is flaky,
a bit like a croissant. The sweetness comes from honey and nuts.
And there's no icing. It's French, right? What did you expect?
The cake was served
to commemorate King's Day, the Feast of the Epiphany - remember
that? In New Orleans, it evolved into the form it has now. As
we Americans like our pastries sweet, icing was added. Some bakery
decided to top it with purple, gold and green-tinted sugar sprinkles,
which caught on in a big way. Now everybody does it, or colors
the icing itself.
Plain king cake
defiantly needs the icing, IMHO. The cake is dry and bland, to
my taste. That's why, when some bakery stuffed theirs with cream
cheese filling, it took off like a shot. Now, king cakes are
filled with everything including strawberry, lemon, blueberry,
raspberry, pineapple(!), and chocolate - and even combinations
thereof. If you want to get on Lizzy's good side, show up with
strawberry cream cheese. Yumm!
Everybody has their
favorite bakery. You can get into a fight over whose is best:
Gambino, Haydel, or Randazzo. Don't ask me, I'll never say.
Now the baby thing.
It all started with the Twelfth Night Revelers in 1870. To this
day, their official king cake has several ribbons attached to
colored beans. All are silver except for one gold one. The maids
of the court pull the ribbons. The lucky maid that pulls the
gold bean is the queen of the ball.
The cake was so
popular that everybody wanted to have king cake parties. But
now a single bean was hidden. The lucky person that got the bean
was to host the next party. The bean evolved to a coin and finally
a baby, either porcelain or plastic. Today, folks that get the
baby are supposed to buy the next cake. So, the winner loses
and the losers win. Sounds like a plan.
There is an etiquette
to enjoying king cake. If you share, you must be willing to own
up and cheerfully buy the next cake. It should be at least as
large as the first and, if the first was filled, so shall be
the next one. Don't get cheap and replace a large blueberry cake
with a small plain one. And NEVER try to replace the baby into
an uneaten piece. Bodily harm may follow…
~*~*~
Pledges were useful
in a fraternity. They were the source of new members, so that
the chapter may live on after the older actives graduated. They
paid dues, which helped pay the house note. They cleaned the
house each weekend, which meant the actives didn't have to do
it. And they could be counted on to "volunteer" to
sit out all night and reserve a prime viewing spot along upper
Canal Street for the Endymion Parade.
The AIs, their dates
and friends descended upon the chosen location in the late morning,
just before lunch. They were able to catch the warm-ups acts
before the main event of the day. Iris was the oldest and largest
of the all-female krewes, while Tucks was one of the few organizations
that were co-ed. Tucks took political mockery to new heights.
Everyone showed
up in dribs and drabs. Emma brought Mari and the Bennet sisters.
Will and Chris rode in the same car. Chuck arrived alone, as
did John. Everyone was in place for Carrie's grand entrance.
"How are you
feeling…?" Lizzy was asking Will about his shoulder
when she caught sight of Carrie out of the corner of her eye.
She could barely keep from laughing out loud. "Oh - my -
gawd - she has less on than yesterday! Darcy, how will
you be able to resist such a bounty before you?" Will didn't
respond - he only closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his
nose.
Carrie was wearing
another Danskin crop top - peach, but this time she paired it
with an orange skirt so short it barely covered her ass. As a
nod to decency, she had on matching dance briefs underneath.
Her long legs traveled unencumbered to her scrunched-up white
socks and sneakers. A chocolate purse, sunglasses and a white
scrunchy in her hair finished the outfit. Not a few of guys started
to drool.
"Hello, William,"
she cooed. "Been waiting long?" She turned to Lizzy.
"Something wrong, dear?"
"No (cough)
nothing at all (cough, cough)."
"You really
should get that cough looked into," Carrie said seriously.
"You…you're
right," Lizzy managed as she turned away, knowing that she
couldn't look at the girl a moment longer before exploding. She
waved as she ran to get some water with Emma and Mari, all smothering
their giggles.
~*~*~
A HISTORY OF MARDI GRAS
A series for the Loyola VOICE by Lizzy Boudreaux
During the late
1960's, people outside of the cream of New Orleans Uptown Society,
the ones unable to join the old-line krewes - normal people,
in other words - started their own organizations. These were
not the small, secret societies. These were open to everyone
- white, black, Jew, newcomer - just as long as you could afford
the dues. These became the Super Krewes - Endymion, Bacchus and
Orpheus. To highlight their parades, they began having celebrities
as their kings or grand marshals.
You can imagine
how well that went over in the early days.
The Saturday before
Mardi Gras now belongs to the largest of the super krewes, Endymion
- 2,000 members strong, from all over the United States. They
are best known for two things. One, they rejected the traditional
route along St. Charles Avenue for a trek down Canal Street from
Mid City to Downtown. Second, the maids, in their elaborate gowns,
ride their own small floats interspaced with the large ones filled
with krewe members.
People stake out
territory along Canal Street for days in preparation for this
parade, arguably the locals favorite outside of Mardi Gras Day.
Tents, tarps, ladders and construction tape was used to reserve
prime viewing areas. Endymion, being so large, also steps off
relatively early for its trip to the Superdome and the 10,000-15,000
guests at its extravaganza held there. The early start makes
it family-friendly, if one watches it from the beginning of the
route and wants to get the kids home at a decent hour.
My only questions
is: with 15,000 guests at the Endymion Extravaganza, how come
I can't get a date?
This year's theme
is Cooking and world-famous New Orleans chief Emeril Lagasse
is Grand Marshal. Well, the food ought to be good…
~*~*~
During breaks in
the parades, everyone would simply sit in folding chairs, on
the ice chests, or on a large blanket on the ground. It was a
matter of course that Henry and Cathy sat together, as did Chuck
and Jane and Mari and John. Carrie tried to get as close to Will
as possible.
During one such
break, Chris, leaning against one of the ice chests, started
singing softly.
"C'mon, take
me to the Mardi Gras
Where the people sing and play
Where the dancing is elite
And there's music in the street
Both night and day."
Mari, who had been
sitting cross-legged on the blanket with John, joined in.
"Hurry, take
me to the Mardi Gras
In the city of my dreams
You can legalize your lows
You can wear your summer clothes
In the New Orleans."
They looked at each
other, smiled, and raised their voices, Chris clapping out a
rhythm.
"And I will
lay my burden down
Rest my head upon that shore
And when I wear that starry crown
I won't be wanting anymore.
"Take your
burdens to the Mardi Gras
Let the music wash your soul
You can mingle in the street
You can jingle to the beat
Of Jelly Roll.
"Tumba, tumba,
tumba, Mardi Gras,
Tumba, tumba, tumba, day.
"Tumba, tumba,
tumba, Mardi Gras,
Tumba, tumba, tumba, day." *
Their companions
were hooting a hollering by the end of their impromptu duet,
and there were many requests for an encore. Chris turned them
down with a good-natured wave of his hand, while Mari stated
at him with surprise.
"I didn't know
you could sing so well, Chris."
Chris gave her his
best "aw sucks" grin. "Thanks, Mari, but we all
know you carried that song. Next to you, a frog would sound good."
Mari got on her
knees. "Now that's just not true! You have a beautiful voice!
How long has he been hiding that?" she asked the others.
"He's the only
guy in the chapter who can sing the National Anthem and hit the
high notes," revealed Chuck. "But he's better on the
piano."
"Really?"
Mari turned to Chris. "What do you play?"
Chris shrugged.
"Lots of stuff, but I really like jazz."
"Me too! I
just adore Ella Fitzgerald!"
The two continued
to talk about their favorite jazz standards, while John grew
more and more angry.
Envy was the beginning
and end to John Waguespack. The self-assured, almost cocky attitude
he presented to the world hid his insecure disposition. What
other people had he longed to possess, and what was his he held
onto jealously.
He glanced at Will
Darcy. He couldn't believe Carrie Bingley's outfit, and he couldn't
fathom Will's stubborn intention to ignore it and her. Hell,
if I didn't have Mari right here, I might make a run at that!
But he wasn't going
to blow a half-year's effort to get Mari into the sack. Since
their blow-up yesterday, John had intended do whatever was needed
to get back on track. But Mari's obvious enjoyment of Chris Breaux's
company threw an unexpected twist into his plans.
John sought to hide
the building resentment he felt. Fuck! Look at Darcy - he's
so f'ing rich he can blow-off a hot-to go piece like Bingley's
sister! And Breaux - that SOB's got money, too. So he's gotta
go after my woman? Can't he buy his own? I ain't got no money!
I ain't got shit! But I'm gonna have Mari - that's gonna be my
piece of ass! Bet on it!
~*~*~
Soon, Endymion was
rolling by. The floats and throws were plentiful. It was as if
the riders had to make up for not being worthy of joining an
old-line krewe by showing they had money to burn, at least. Some
maskers tossed the beads by the gross, not even taking the trinkets
out of the bags.
The girls' favorite
part was watching the maids glide by on their mini-floats. The
maids were lashed securely to the float- about the only part
of their body they could move was their arms. They trusted their
little pages to hand the beads to them to toss.
Henry stood behind
Cathy, holding her as close as the harnesses held the Endymion
maids. "Are you sorry your father's krewe didn't parade?"
he asked her.
Cathy smiled. "Not
really. I always knew that Daddy's krewe only held a ball, so
I can't say I was disappointed. I mean - a parade would have
been fun, you bet. And those dresses are somethin' else, especially
the headpieces. But they can barely move! How could've I danced
with you in that get up?"
Henry kissed her
ear. "Carefully, Cathy. Verrry carefully."
~*~*~
Parades didn't always
run smoothly. In fact, delays and stops were par for the course
when it came to Mardi Gras. A Louisiana Army National Guard contingent
halted in front of the group. A captain, wearing his Class A
green dress uniform bedecked in purple, green and gold beads
cried, "AT EASE!" Instantly, the company assumed the
classic at-ease position of legs spread and one arm behind the
back, M-16 held by the other leg. The officer strolled next to
a sergeant, glancing around.
"Oh, my god!"
whispered Carrie. Lizzy looked up at her in surprise.
The captain looked
over at them and suddenly grinned. "Take over, sergeant,"
he ordered as he moved towards the group. Carrie started to back
up.
"Well, well,
well…if it isn't Carrie Bingley. You're lookin' mighty fine,
lady. Those are clothes you're almost wearing, right? LSU ain't
marching tonight?" the tall, handsome captain asked. Lizzy
could see that he had black hair and blue eyes under his hat.
He filled out his Class A uniform very well, she had to admit.
"What are you
doing here?" Carrie gasped.
"What does
it look like?"
"That uniform!
Where did you get that?"
He looked down at
it. "This? I got it from Wal-Mart - what do you think?"
"You…you're
in the Army?!"
He smiled. "Army
National Guard." He looked at the others. "Sorry -
Carrie here has forgotten her manners. I'm Captain John Buford
from Baton Rouge. In my civvies, I'm a lawyer."
"Glad to meet
you, Captain," Chuck offered, extending his hand. "I'm
Chuck Bingley. This is Jane and Elizabeth Boudreaux." He
introduced the rest. "You seem to know my sister."
"Your sister,
hmm?" Buford grinned. "Yeah, I know her…"
"In your dreams,
John!" Carrie spat.
He leered. "Yeah
- there, too. C'mon, when are you gonna admit you're crazy about
me?"
"Like I would
waste my time with an egomaniac like you! You just go and play
with your soldier-boys, counselor. God help this country if we
have to depend on people like you to defend her!"
Buford noticed that
the parade was getting ready to move again. He grinned at Carrie
again. "Nice to see all of y'all - even you, Carrie. Y'all
behave yourselves, now. Don't do somethin' I wouldn't do."
He returned to his soldiers, all business now. "ATTENTION!"
Rifles crashed as the troops responded. "RIGHT SHOULDER
- HUH!" As one the M-16s rose to the proper position. "FORWARD
MARCH!"
As the National
Guardsmen marched off, the others turned to an embarrassed Carrie.
At their repeated questioning, she finally revealed, "I
met John Buford the year he was finishing law school. A bigger
jerk you've never met. Thinks he's God's gift to women."
"He seems to
like you," offered Chuck.
Carrie wilted. This
was the last thing she wanted to happen in front of Will Darcy.
"The only thing he'd like is to get into my pants! Apparently,
I'm the only girl not to fall for his smooth act. And it's gonna
stay that way!"
"Yeah, sure…"
Lizzy muttered beneath her breath. That boy looked way too good
in his uniform, and Lizzy knew that Carrie thought so, too.
~*~*~
Carrie had finally
had enough of the waiting and hinting. It was time to get this
thing off first base. She watched and waited until Will walked
over alone to the ice chests. She quickly intercepted him.
Will was reaching
over to grab a brewski - Thank God Heinies come in cans
- when he felt a hand on his ass. Actually, it was inside the
back pocket of his jeans which covered his ass. Okay, since
my wallet is in my other pocket, this is either a blind pick-pocket,
or…
Will stood up. "Carrie.
Can I help you?"
Carrie was very
close, as her hand was still in his back pocket. She curled around
his body and smiled suggestively. "Will," she breathed,
"why don't we blow this party? We can go to the Quarter
and hit the clubs, or…" her tongue wet her lips, "we
can go to your place."
Will's face remained
impassive as he slowly reached back and extracted Carrie's hand
from his jeans. He brought her hand from around him and released
it.
"I think you've
had enough to drink, Carrie. Shall I have Chuck drive you back
to your motel?"
Carrie's eyes grew
wide as she stared at him, his reaction completely undoing her.
She shook as she stared into his stony face, as hard and beautiful
and cold as a statue. Then she knew. It was so obvious, actually,
that she was amazed that she'd been blind to it. Reality screamed
into her mind the words she had fought so long not to hear.
HE'S JUST NOT
INTO YOU.
"I…I'm
sorry… I…" Carrie stumbled over her words, the
jolt to her ego effecting the connection between brain and tongue.
"Forgive me… I…I must be going, now…"
Will interrupted
her. "Carrie, I'm sorry. It's not you. I really wouldn't
be good for you. You need someone who…umm…who would…"
Carrie put her hand
up. "No, please…I get it…that's all right. I understand.
Please, just leave me alone." She slouched down to sit onto
the top of a closed ice chest.
Will gave her a
jerky nod of his head and moved away, leaving the mortified girl.
He only walked a few steps when he saw Lizzy and Cathy staring
at him. He quickly turned his head around, and was happy to see
that Carrie had her back to them. He motioned with his head away
from her.
Once far enough
away, he began, "I suppose you saw that." Both nodded.
"I'm sorry about that - it wasn't planned. Would you…would
you keep an eye on her? I gotta find Chuck." The girls agreed
and Will left on his mission.
It wasn't long before
Carrie had company.
"Carrie?"
Chuck was at a loss on what to say.
Carrie wouldn't
look at him. "So, he went got you, did he? Come to console
the poor, deluded idiot? You needn't bother."
"Oh, Carrie,
it's not like that. Do you want to leave?"
Her head jerked
up. "No. No reason to make you leave. You're enjoying yourself."
She gave him a brittle smile. "I'm sure Jane would never
forgive me."
"Carrie,"
said a soft female voice behind her, "that's not true. Chuck
wants to help you. I want to help you. Whatever you need. If
you need him to take you home, then that's what he should do."
For some reason,
Jane's sincere words broke through the defenses Carrie had hastily
thrown up. Her eyes were watering as she glanced at the blonde
nurse behind her. Jane held out her hand and Carrie took it.
Jane joined Carrie on one ice chest and they sat together in
silence, holding hands, while Chuck sat on another.
~*~*~
Lizzy sighed. "Nothing
like a little drama to perk up a parade. Any other hearts you're
planning to break tonight, Darcy?"
"Lizzy!"
admonished Mari while restraining the giggle that threatened
to escape.
Will looked down.
"Lizzy, I already feel like crap - you don't have to rub
it in."
"I'm just teasing,
Darcy," said Lizzy defensively. William turned and looked
at her, an unreadable expression on his face. They were locked
in a gaze for a moment before she turned away.
"Will, it wasn't
your fault," Cathy said.
"Yeah…she
kinda put herself in that situation. What else could you do?"
Lizzy asked reasonably.
Do it better,
without hurting her,
he thought. Aloud he said, "Don't know. I guess you're right."
Lizzy looked back
at the ice chests. "Jane'll make her feel better. She's
got the gift. C'mon, let's go watch the rest of the parade."
John, who had been
waiting silently, could not figure Will out. For cryin' out
loud, she friggin' propositioned him! What the hell was Darcy
thinking?
~*~*~
As the parade was
breaking up, John started kissing Mari's neck. "You wanna
do somethin' tonight, Mari?"
"John…"
She pushed him away.
"No, no. I
didn't mean anything. I meant hittin' the Quarter or something."
"Not tonight,
John. Why don't you come with us back to Emma's?"
John blanched. Going
to a girl gab-fest at the Weinbergs was not his idea of a good
time. "Ah, no, Mari. I just remembered - Tommy wants to
grab some grub after work. I'm gonna meet him back at the crib."
He wasn't too worried
if Mari called his bluff - getting her into the apartment was
half the battle. And if she decided to continue over to Emma's,
there was always Plan B.
"Oh - okay."
She gave John a quick kiss. "Tell Tommy 'hi' for me."
She sighed. "I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"
"Want me to
pick you up?"
Mari smiled. "Yeah
- Lizzy can grab a ride, too."
Shit! "Okay," he said as he kissed
her again. "See ya." He waved as he made his way to
his car, already pulling out his cell phone to call Greg to score
a little grass.
"So what are
you guys doing?" Lizzy was asking Will and Chris. "Chuck's
coming over to Emma's."
No kidding, thought Will. He was tempted, but
he felt Lizzy would want more time with her sister. "I was
thinkin' of packing it in. How 'bout you, Chris?"
As much as Chris
wanted to spend more time with Mari, he knew it wouldn't be right.
"I'm ready when you are, partner."
Meanwhile some of
the group mentioned going down to the French Quarter. "Come
on," said Pat Patel, "We can watch as the stupid tourist
gals flash their boobs for beads! It'll be great!"
Boy - that's
something I wanna do,
thought a morose Carrie, sitting on folding chair. And maybe
later I can pull out my wisdom teeth with a pair of pliers.
Just then she felt a hand on her shoulder.
"Carrie?"
It was Cathy. "You wanna come?"
"I don't think
so."
"Come on with
us. We won't be out too late. Henry and I wanna do some dancing.
It'll be fun - I know how much you like to dance."
Oh, what the
hell. Why not? What else can go wrong tonight? "All right, as long as it's not
too late."
"You go have
fun, Sis," advised Chuck, his arm around Jane. Impulsively,
Carrie stood and kissed both of them on the cheek.
"Thanks for
everything, Jane. I feel better. I'll see you both tomorrow,"
she promised.
The group destined
for the Quarter climbed into several cars - Carrie left hers
off Canal Street - and drove Downtown. They found a parking lot
was wasn't too far away and hiked the ten blocks.
The French Quarter
was jumping that warm Saturday night. But because Mardi Gras
was early this year - and, therefore, didn't coincide with Spring
Break - there were noticeably fewer college-age party people
jamming the Quarter. Consequently, you could actually walk down
Bourbon Street without having to squeeze your way through the
inebriated throng. But unfortunately for the merchants, the diminished
tourist presence meant that business was off compared to past
festivities.
Cathy suggested
that the group head for one of the dance clubs. Carrie followed
quietly. She was hurt and embarrassed - years of effort had been
for naught. There was only one cure for it - dance the night
away.
That's it - I'm
through throwing myself after men who don't appreciate me. I'm
not going to waste any more time on Will Darcy. It's a hard lesson
to learn, but Jane's right - I don't have to have a man to prove
I'm worth something. I have family and friends who love me. I'm
just gonna have fun. Be myself. Respect myself. Starting right
now.
Look all you
want, boys. You're not getting any of this!
~*~*~
* - "Take
Me to the Mardi Gras" by Paul Simon
|
