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Chapter 9
February 12, 1999
It was the Friday
before Mardi Gras, and all through Emma's house, it was anything
but quiet.
Emma was dashing
through the various rooms, trying to prepare for her guest -
Lizzy's sister, Jane - and all her friends who were going to
use the place as their Central Headquarters and Designated Restroom
for the parades. Mrs. Taylor had prepared tons of hors d'oeuvres,
but they were still in the refrigerator, yet to be placed out
or heated up. The decorations had to be finished, the beer and
wine chilled, and Papa was useless.
Just as Emma was
ready to scream, the doorbell sounded. No! Jane can't be here
now! I'm not ready! Emma brushed off her hands on her apron,
ran her fingers through her hair and answered the door.
"Doctor George!"
"Hi, Emma."
"Come in, come
in. I didn't know you were coming over. You're not working?"
George walked in.
"Abe invited me. I'm on call for Sunday, but other than
that, I'm free."
"That's wonderful.
Papa's in his study, watching basketball. Can I get you something?"
"No, I'm okay.
What's with the apron? What are you doing? Looks like you're
getting ready for a party." He looked at Emma. "Oh
- Emma, Abe didn't do it again, did he?"
Emma laughed. "Oh,
no. Everyone's coming by before the parade. We've got plenty
- even for you." She looked down at the apron she
wore. "And this apron was my mother's. I wear it to remind
me of her - she always wore it when she was setting up a party."
It wasn't some frilly June Cleaver thing - it was white and functional,
with the exception of the initials "RW" in script across
the lone pocket. Something a real cook might wear.
George looked at
all the boxes in the dining room. "Looks like you've got
a lot to do."
"You don't
know the half of it. I've got to get all this stuff done, Lizzy's
sister is staying here for Mardi Gras, and Miz Taylor's off for
the weekend."
"Need some
help?"
Emma smiled at her
long-time friend. "Would you? You're such a sweetie!"
She grabbed his hand. "C'mon!"
Emma concentrated
on the decorations, while George schlepped the heavy stuff. Emma
was on a stepladder when she lost her balance, only to be steadied
by George's strong arms.
"Watch it there,
Em," he advised.
Thanking him, she
returned to her task. However, she glanced every so often at
her rescuer. She had never been aware of his strong hands or
long fingers before. Now that she noticed, she could see that
the good doctor had a fine pair of guns on him. The idea of George
working out was an intriguing notion.
He really is
a good looking guy, she considered. I wonder why some girl hasn't
snatched him up yet?
An hour later, the
food to be heated was set out next to the oven, the beer and
wine were on ice, and the dinning room was decorated in Mardi
Gras colors. The chips and nuts were already in their proper
dishes. Steamers stretched from the chandelier to the corners
of the room. Purple, green and gold confetti was strewn over
the tablecloth just so. Emma stood back to judge her efforts,
one hand on her chin.
George, wiping his
hands with a dishtowel, watched her from the kitchen. He realized
that little Em, the daughter of his parents' friends, was not
so little anymore. In her all-purple outfit with the apron over
it, she looked both sophisticated and domestic. Emma had grown
to be a beautiful woman. No one could ignore her two most prominent
assets, and George could feel the stirring in his loins he had
experienced many times in the last few years.
It was the occasion
of Emma's graduation from Newman. She wore a lovely white dress
with a slightly low neckline. She was laughing, for the first
time since her mother's death. She bent over slightly to retrieve
her Coke, and George was in prefect alignment to appreciate her
décolleté. It was the most disconcerting feeling
George had ever experienced.
Since then, he had
fought these lustful feelings for the young lady, but there were
other things to admire about Emma. He knew many of Emma's girlfriends
had advised her to get a nose job, as her nose was longer than
was fashionable. Yet she didn't, and for the same reason she
refused to get LASIK surgery on her eyes. Emma disliked hospitals
and was terrified of surgery. At first, George tried to humor
her out of her fears, but as time went on, he became happy she
resisted her contemporaries' advice. There was something charming
about her face, and her nose, long or not, suited her. It made
her Emma, and Emma was lovely just the way she was.
Of course, there
was her kind and generous personality. Her loyalty and devotion
to her father recommended her, too. He knew that for all her
protests to the contrary, it was she and Mrs. Taylor who ran
this household.
He moved into the
room, stopping right behind Emma. "It looks lovely, Emma.
Don't change a thing."
She looked back
over her shoulder at him, missing the double meaning hidden in
his words. "You think?" She turned back to the table
and sighed. "Okay, we're done."
George shifted so
he was abreast of her. "I remember what a wonderful hostess
your mother was, Em. You do her proud."
Emma turned to him.
"Oh, George…that's so lovely. Thank you."
George fought to
keep his eyes from moving south - Emma's scoop top was tempting.
Emma's brow started to wrinkle as she wondered why George had
such a funny expression on his face.
They were saved
by the doorbell.
"Oh - they're
here!" Emma cried as she fumbled to remove the apron. "Here
- be a dear…" she said as she thrust the garment into
George's hands, before calling for her father, as she moved quickly
to the door. George chuckled and walked to the kitchen.
Opening the front
door, Emma saw Lizzy and Mari with a beautiful blonde woman carrying
a suitcase. "Hello! Welcome to Casa Weinberg! I'm Emma.
Come in!" The three entered the hallway as Emma closed the
door. "You must be Jane," she greeted as she extended
her hand.
"Yes, Jane
Boudreaux. Thank you for your hospitality, Emma."
Emma looked over
Jane's shoulder. "And here is the master of his realm, my
father, Abe Weinberg. Come here, Papa." Abe had just come
from out of his study. "Papa, you know Mari and Lizzy. This
is Lizzy's sister, Jane Boudreaux."
Abe greeted her
with a smile. "So, you're our guest for the next few days,
hmm? Nice to meet you, Miss Jane." Jane returned the welcome
and again thanked her hosts. Abe waved it off. "No thanks
are necessary, Miss Jane. You just have a good time. Let me take
that bag for you."
"Oh - sir,
that's quite unnecessary!"
"I know, but
this is my house and no young lady is going to carry a heavy
bag here." He picked it up with a grunt. "My…goodness.
What do you have in here - rocks?"
Jane blushed to
the roots of her hair. "Mr. Weinberg, I'm so sorry…!"
"Papa!" cried Emma with a sharp look.
"Hee hee…just
my little joke. Forgive me, Miss Jane."
"Sure you don't
need any help with that, Abe?" teased George as he approached
the group.
"You just entertain
the ladies, Doctor, while I take care of this little matter,"
Abe huffed. He began to walk up the stairs. "Your bedroom
is the first on the left."
"Your father's
very nice," said Jane.
"Yeah, he's
a riot. And this handsome man is our friend, Dr. George Katz."
Unconsciously, she stepped closer to George and touched his arm.
Emma's actions did
not go unnoticed by the other girls - the subconscious message
was clear. After exchanging introductions and greetings, the
guests began praising the decorations.
"Thank you,"
said Emma, "but I couldn't have done it without George,
here."
"Is that so?"
smirked Mari. "I didn't know you were so talented, George."
"Or so domestic,"
added Lizzy with a grin.
George smiled as
Emma blushed. "Bachelors can do many things, ladies."
Emma broke in, "And
that's enough of that! C'mon, Jane, let me show you to your room."
As the girls began going up the stairs, Emma turned and returned
to George's side. Without hesitation, she kissed his cheek.
"Thanks, George,
for everything." She gave him a happy smile and hurried
upstairs. George watched her go, her kiss still warm on his face.
He was still there
when Abe came downstairs. "Hey, George, want to catch the
second half of the game?" he gestured towards his study.
"Sure,"
he said as he tore his eyes from the top of the stairs. "Who's
playing?"
"LSU and Arkansas."
"Cool. Want
a beer?"
~*~*~
"I hope the
room is okay," Emma said after showing her around.
Jane smiled. "Okay?
It's lovely, Emma. Thank you so much. This was very kind of you."
Mari was on the
bed. "So when is everybody coming over?"
"About an hour
before the parade. Wait 'til you meet them, Jane - they're real
nice."
Jane nodded. "If
they're anything like your boyfriend, I'm sure they will be."
There was silence
in the room. "What boyfriend?" asked Emma.
Jane was perplexed.
"Downstairs… George. I'm sorry, did I get something
wrong? I just thought…" She blushed as Mari and Lizzy
laughed. "Oh - excuse me, I said something silly, didn't
I?"
"I don't know,"
Mari said as she observed a red-faced Emma. "Do you have
something to tell us, Em?"
"George?"
Emma squeaked. "You think George is my boyfriend? That's…No
way! He's like a brother to me!"
"Well, this
is the South, darlin'," Mari drawled. "You know what
they say - incest is best."
"MARI!"
Lizzy cried while laughing.
"You take that
back, you redneck!" Emma cried as she threw a pillow at
her. A short, giggle-filled pillow fight ensued. Finally, the
two hugged as the others joined them on the bed.
"Emma, I'm
sorry I embarrassed you," said Jane.
"No, it's okay,
Jane. It's just…weird."
"He is really
cute, Em," suggested Mari.
"You could
do worse," Lizzy put in.
Emma looked about
the room with a shocked expression. "Me…and…George?
Nah!" She jumped up, as much as to end the strange discussion
as anything else. "Let's get your stuff put away, Jane,
before everybody gets here. This party's gonna be so much fun!"
~*~*~
"TURN IT UP!"
Henry Tilney cried.
The well-known,
almost haunting whistling over a driving piano beat filled the
air, before the croaking voice sang:
"Well I'm
goin' to New Orleans
I wanna see the Mardi Gras
Yes I'm goin' to New Orleans
I wanna see the Mardi Gras
When I see the Mardi Gras
I wanna know what's carnival for."
The crowd in Emma's
dinning room was dancing up a storm, and many sang along to Mardi
Gras' unofficial theme song. Mari had several of the girls in
a line dance.
"Goin' down
to New Orleans
I've got my ticket in my hands
Goin' down to New Orleans
I've got my ticket in my hands
When I get to New Orleans
I wanna see the Zulu King."
Pat Patel tried
valiantly to whistle along with Professor Longhair, but only
succeeded in providing more merriment for the participants.
"Way down
in New Orleans
Down on Rampart and Dumaine
Yes down in New Orleans
On Rampart and Dumaine
Gonna make it my standin' place
Until I see the Zulu Queen."*
A cheer went up
as the song ended. "Now, THAT'S the way to start a parade!"
screamed Tilney.
Emma walked through
the dinning room, happy to see that everyone was enjoying themselves.
Abe had found a corner and was talking with George. Lizzy had
Jane in tow, introducing her to everyone. There was a jostle
at her elbow.
"Oh - Em! I'm
sorry," giggled Mari. "Don't you love full-contact
parties?"
Emma assured her
friend that no harm had been done. "Lizzy's sister, Jane,
is a real sweetheart, don't you think?"
"Yeah,"
Mari answered. "I'll bet she doesn't have a mean bone in
her body."
"Yeah - just
like Chuck…" Emma's voice trailed off as her mind began
to work. In the last few months, she saw that ending things with
Chuck Bingley had been the right thing to do. However, knowing
she was right didn't make her any happier. She felt a pang of
guilt over the whole episode. She had pursued Chuck, and she
had broken up with him. A nice guy like Chuck deserved better,
she felt. He deserves someone nice…
"Em?"
asked Mari. "I've seen that look before. You're planning
something. What is it?"
Emma only smiled
and looked around. She saw someone who could help. "Mari,
come with me," she said as she grabbed her hand and dragged
her towards Cathy Moreland.
"Hey, Cathy.
Thanks for coming over."
"Wouldn't have
missed it, Em," Cathy smiled. Things were rough between
them for a couple of weeks in the aftermath of Emma's breakup
with Chuck. Cathy was very protective of "her boys,"
and she felt that Emma had been cruel to Chuck. A long heart-to-heart
in December had patched things up between them.
"Do you know
if Chuck is coming?" Emma asked.
Cathy nodded. "Will's
bringing him, so he'll show." She lowered her voice. "That
sister of his will be coming, too."
Emma grimaced. "That's
what I was afraid of. Come to the kitchen with us. I need your
help."
Puzzled, Cathy joined
the other two in the kitchen. "So…what do you want
me to do?"
Emma grinned. "Distract
Carrie. I'm gonna set up Chuck with Lizzy's sister."
"What?"
the others said in unison.
"Shhh - keep
it down! Look, have you met Jane?"
"Yes, she's
real sweet, but I don't think…"
"Oh, come on,
Cathy, she'd be prefect for Chuck! Think about it. Have you met
anyone as nice as Jane?"
Mari said, "No,
now that you mention it."
Cathy responded,
"Emma, I've only known her for five minutes - I'm hardly
in a position to judge…"
Emma waved her hands.
"Trust me, Cathy; she's a female version of Chuck."
"But, what's
the big rush?"
Emma looked intently
at her friends. "I feel real bad how things ended between
Chuck and me. I want to make it up to him. Jane's visiting from
out of town. This might be our only chance." She knew that
Mari was getting excited about the idea, so she focused on Cathy.
"Look, I just wanna introduce them and give them a chance
to spend some time together. Give 'em a chance…"
"Bait the field,"
added Mari.
"Introduce
a girl that could make Chuck real happy. What do you say?"
Cathy was convinced.
"Okay, I'm in. What do you need me to do?"
The girls talked
amongst themselves in low tones for several minutes, working
out their strategy. That was the way Henry found them a few minutes
later.
"There you
are!" Henry said to his girlfriend. "What are you all
so secretive about?"
"Just girl
talk, hon," said Cathy, biting her lip.
"Yeah, right.
You girls are up to something. What gives?"
"Never you
mind - you just march right back in that dining room and get
your poor girlfriend a cold beer."
"Trouble -
nothing but trouble," Henry shook his head.
Cathy had her hands
on her hips. "You getting me that beer?"
"Okay, okay,
I can see when I'm beat. I just hope I'm not the target of your
scheming." He turned to leave.
Cathy smiled. "You
have been before."
Henry turned back
slowly. "What do you mean?"
She ran a finger
down his shirt. "How do you think you met me?"
"What do you
mean? I met you at the…" Henry thought furiously. "I…I
don't think I wanna know now, do I?" The girls laughed.
Cathy ran her fingers
through his hair. "One day I'll tell you, baby. Now get
me that beer."
Henry chuckled and
left to do as he was bid.
Emma smiled at her
co-conspirators. "We all set? Let's do it!"
Mari sang, "Matchmaker,
matchmaker, make me a match…"
Cathy picked it
up, "Find me a find…"
Together, "Catch
me a catch!"
Emma, blushing,
giggled, "Stop it!"
Giggling, Mari and
Cathy continued to sing as the left the kitchen, Emma tagging
behind.
~*~*~
A HISTORY OF MARDI GRAS
A series for the Loyola VOICE by Lizzy Boudreaux
The krewes in New
Orleans are generally all male or all female, and the so-called
"old-line" organizations are mostly broken down by
race. At one time, this was the law in the segregated South,
but today this is the preferred association.
It is a little-known
fact, that the first king of Carnival - the first Rex, in 1872
- was Jewish. His name was Lewis Solomon. Of course, he was the
last Jewish king of Carnival. While there are Jewish members
of the elite Mardi Gras krewes, they are not among the social
tier that represents Carnival royalty. They'll take your money,
but you won't be king. In response to this, a group of Jews got
together in the 1990s and created the Krewe du Jieux, a satirical
marching club attached to the renowned French Quarter parade
Krewe du Vieux. They hand out painted bagels, along with the
usual Mardi Gras beads and trinkets.
It's very expensive
to belong to a krewe, for members are responsible for dues, costume
rental, ball tickets, new dress for the wife, and throws - the
trinkets tossed from the floats. The beads, doubloons, cups,
stuffed animals and other items are bought by the gross, and
the final bill runs into the thousands of dollars - just for
the right to give it all away to a bunch of strangers.
Carnival is also
the end of the long and elaborate debutante season in New Orleans.
White young ladies have their "coming out" during their
sophomore year in college, whereas African-Americans debut while
seniors in high school. The parties start in September and continue
until the young women serve as maids, or even queens, of the
various krewes their fathers belong to. As white girls often
attend out-of-town universities, many must transfer back to Tulane,
Loyola or UNO for their sophomore year to participate in their
debut. It is not known how many of them transfer back after their
year is done. My guess is, not many.
Expenses for a New
Orleans family with more than one daughter can be crippling.
It's not unusual for house repairs to be put off for years while
the girls go through their debuts. It is an indication that an
Uptown family is finally through with the seasons for their daughters
when the contractors show up to repaint the house…
~*~*~
Just before they
he opened the door to the Weinberg house, Chris turned to Will.
"Brighten up, Mr. Republican. Just 'cause the Senate failed
to convict Clinton today…"
"Yeah, yeah.
Like everybody didn't see that coming. Gimme a beer and
I'll be all right."
"Yeah you rite,"
said Chris and Chuck in a chorus. Carrie rolled her eyes.
Will, Chris, Chuck
and Carrie walked into organized chaos. A second line to "Hey
Pocky A-Way"** was going full steam in the living room.
"I see the
natives are restless," muttered Carrie.
"C'mon, Red,
I know you want to do it," teased Chris.
"Do what?"
asked Carrie in an icy tone.
Chris grinned. "Dance.
That's what you Golden Girls do, isn't it?"
Chuck groaned. "Chris,
stop picking on my sister, please, even if she does deserve it."
Carrie turned to
Will, looking at him in a beseeching manner. "Are you going
to let them talk about me this way?"
Emma saved Will
from answering. "Hi, everybody! Come make yourselves comfortable."
To Chuck she continued, "Chuck, thank you so much for coming."
Chuck gave a weak
smile. "Thank you for inviting me."
Emma gave him an
earnest look. "Chuck, I hope we will always be friends."
He took her hand.
"We are friends, Em."
Carrie looked upon
her hostess with barely disguised loathing. She may have been
relieved that Chuck and Emma's relationship was over, but she
could not forget that this was the girl who broke up with her
brother. For whatever else Carrie Bingley was, she loved her
brother and was fiercely loyal to him.
"Emma, how
nice to see you again," she uttered coldly.
For her part, Emma
responded civilly. She expected no other behavior from Chuck's
sister; and, to a certain extent, she felt she deserved it. "You
are all welcome here for the rest of Carnival. Chuck, there is
someone I'd like for you to meet…"
Just then, the party
could see Lizzy walking towards them arm-in-arm with a blonde.
"Ah," said Emma, "here she is now." Thank
you for your unintended help, Lizzy.
Lizzy was smiling.
"Will! Chuck - Chris - Carrie! I want y'all to meet my sister.
This is Jane Boudreaux. She's a senior nursing student at Southeastern.
Jane, this is Will Darcy, Chris Breaux and Chuck Bingley from
Tulane. And this is Carrie Bingley from LSU."
Jane's beautiful
face was flushed from exertion - she was in the second line -
but she gave them all a sincere smile. "How do you do?"
At that moment,
Emma pulled Lizzy away to whisper a question in her ear, "Lizzy,
is Jane seeing anyone?"
"What? No -
why do you ask?"
Emma gave her a
smile full of mischief. "No reason."
"Emma, what
are you up to?"
"Nothing -
just follow my lead."
Because of this
exchange, Lizzy failed to hear Jane's conversation with Will.
"How is your sister, Will?"
Darcy smiled, showing
his dimples. "She's just fine Jane, thanks to your good
care."
"What's this?"
asked Chuck. "Did Jane help take care of your sister?"
"She sure did."
"William!"
cried Carrie, "I didn't know Gina was in the hospital."
"Wasn't widely
known, Carrie. It was a minor thing, and she's all better now."
Jane smiled sweetly.
"Thank you, but I didn't do much."
"I'm sure you
did," Chuck said. "So, you finish up this spring?"
By this time, Emma
and a puzzled Lizzy had returned to hear Jane answer, "Yes,
I do."
"What are you
specializing in?" asked Chris.
"Pediatrics."
Chuck smiled. "Children
- you must like children."
Jane's eyes grew
animated as she talked about her love of caring for her young
patients. Chuck stepped closer and that two soon fell into, for
all intents and purposes, a private conversation. While she spoke,
Lizzy moved to her side, which was next to Darcy. For his part,
he shifted so he was behind her and to one side.
His movement was
not lost on Carrie, who saw that he was much too close to Lizzy
for her comfort. Carrie had liked the Loyola student when
they had met last fall at the Rock 'N Bowl, but seeing William
well within Lizzy's personal space sent alarm bells going off
in her head. Could she be competition?
As focused as she
was on her sister, Lizzy was unaware of Will's location. She
tried not to look at Carrie, because if she did, she knew she
would break up laughing. Weather during Mardi Gras was always
hit-or-miss. Sometimes it was warm; sometimes it was cold. This
year was one of the mild ones, even though it was mid-February.
As Lizzy predicted, Carrie was wearing a cropped Danskin top
with low-slung, tight Capri jeans and flats, her decidedly toned
abs prominently displayed. I hope Will is enjoying Carrie's
show, she thought evilly.
"Hey, partner,"
Chris said to Lizzy, "are you all set for Monday?"
"I sure am,"
she happily replied. "When are you picking me up?"
Carrie's ears pricked
up.
"How about
early - say, ten o'clock? We can pass by my folks' place in Lafayette
a little after noon."
"Okay."
"What's this?"
Carrie blurted. "Are you leaving town for Mardi Gras?"
"Yes,"
answered Lizzy. "Chris is taking me to the Mamou courir."
"Oh - how nice."
False alarm - she must be going out with Chris. Before
she could say anything more, Cathy was at her elbow.
"Carrie, just
the person we need. Would you give us a hand in the kitchen?"
"Kitchen? Me?"
Carrie sputtered. "What do you want me to do in the kitchen?"
Cathy wore her most
innocent expression and said in a voice a bit louder than necessary,
"Carrie, don't be modest. Chuck brags about your cooking
all the time, doesn't he, Will?"
Will had heard no
such thing from Chuck, and glanced at him to gauge his reaction.
A waste of time - he was completely engaged in talking to Jane.
A glance back at Cathy told him to go along with this.
"Umm…yes,
Chuck often speaks of your talents in the…umm, kitchen."
Lack of talents, actually. "And you know me - I always
love a good home-cooked meal."
Carrie's eyes grew
wide. She had hoped Chuck would finally start promoting her to
Darcy, but up to now, he had shown himself shockingly unwilling
to do so. That he had talked well of her to Will was promising
- but this? She could hardly boil water. Yet, it seemed William
was happy to think she was a good cook.
"Why, Cathy,
I would be happy to help. I won't be long, Will." With a
sickly smile, she followed Cathy into the other room.
"So, is that
what you're looking for, Darcy? A woman who knows her way around
the kitchen?" Lizzy teased.
"Among other
rooms," Darcy replied with an arch look, which caused Lizzy
to laugh.
Chris broke in.
"But really, Carrie doesn't know the first thing about cooking.
Chuck often jokes about it with us, Will. What's going on?"
Emma took a satisfied
sidelong glance at Chuck and Jane. "Don't you worry, handsome.
Everything is just fine." Now Chuck and Jane will have
some private time. Go get her, Chuckie!
Will frowned. He
knew with Emma acting like that he wasn't going to get any answers.
He turned to Lizzy. "What are you so amused about, Boudreaux?
You've been trying not to crack up for the last ten minutes."
Lizzy giggled. "When
I'm right, I'm right. You did catch that get-up Carrie was in,
didn't you? She would be so disappointed if you didn't.
She obviously wore it for you."
Now Will sighed.
"Yeah, I did. You know, it's like a chef dressing up a hot
dog when what the customer wants is a hamburger. The hot dog
just won't satisfy." Chris broke up.
Lizzy blurted out
before thinking, "And what would satisfy you, Darcy?"
Her face went red as she realized the portent of her question.
You, his mind screamed, but he kept silent.
It was too soon, he considered, and he didn't want to scare her
off. Instead he said, "I'll know it when I see it, Boudreaux,"
flashing his dimples.
Both Chris and Emma
gave their friends a slight smile, reacting to their banter.
Well, isn't that interesting? they both thought at the
same time.
"Folks?"
said George. "Abe thinks it's time to get outside. It's
almost parade time."
~*~*~
* - "Mardi
Gras in New Orleans (Go to the Mardi Gras)" by Roy "Professor
Longhair" Byrd and Tee Terry, performed by Professor Longhair
** - "Hey
Pocky A-Way" by George Joseph Porter Jr., Art Neville,
Joseph Modeliste, and Leo Nocentelli, performed by The Meters
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