Fuck Hades and his tricks.
Fuck his kingdom and his rules.
Either he returns Persephone to her family and to herself, or Demeter is going to burn it all to the ground. And Persephone is right there, singing back to her mother, telling her to strike the tinder, insisting she’d rather die in the pyre than live another day in captivity.
I work through the verses, the bridge, the hook, whisper-singing so I won’t disturb Charlotte.
And because I’m a superstitious creative weirdo.
I can’t share a new song with anyone else until it’s nearly done—until I’ve birthed it, nurtured it, and feel confident it can stand on its own two feet.
By the time I’m done, tears are streaming down my cheeks again, but they aren’t sad tears. This isn’t mourning. This is thecelebration that comes with rising from the grave, a gratitude so beautiful it hurts.
Because you know what it’s like to be dead. To be cold and alone, with no magic left in your bones, and no hope that it will ever return.
But it did, and now…
Well, now, you’re so alive you barely know what to do with yourself.
And you’re weirdly…horny.
My humming, buzzing, vibrating awakening continues on Sunday, as Charlotte and I join some of the hockey-adjacent friends at Café Emelie.
The brunch spot is tucked into a courtyard that shields us from the increasingly brisk breeze. Brick walls covered in climbing vines surround us on three sides as we perch on mismatched vintage chairs, sipping mimosas that arrive in old-fashioned glasses Makena calls “boobie cups.”
“Because look,” she says, leaning her chest over her now-empty glass halfway through the meal. “It’s the perfect size to put a boobie in there.”
“Maybe one of yours,” I say, the bubbles making me bold. “Some of us could fitbothour boobies in there.”
“Oh, girl, stop,” Makena says. “I’m totally a member of the itty-bitty tittie committee. Get one more drink in me, and I’ll lift my sweater and show you.”
We all laugh, then laugh harder as Makena insists she’s not kidding, and Elly seconds that, warning us not to encourage her.
“We’re already banned from my other favorite brunch spot,” Elly says, shooting a mock glare Makena’s way. “Since somebody had to pick a pastry fight with the chef.”
Makena lifts her nose into the air with a prim sniff. “It wasn’t a pastry fight. It was a Dutch baby fight, and it’s not my fault that he’s a sore loser. I won the taste test fair and square.”
“You did,” Elly admits fondly. “I was very proud. Sad that I can’t grab biscuits and gravy there anymore, but proud.”
“I’ve got your biscuits and gravy right here, woman,” Mack insists. “My biscuits are way better than Chef Poo Poo Pants’ biscuits.”
“You can’t cook all the food for everyone all the time,” Charlotte cuts in, reasonably. “We do have to seek out nourishment and yumminess elsewhere from time to time.”
Makena bleats in protest around a bite of crepe.
“We do,” Elly agrees. “Especially since you’ve started closing the food truck at five to get home to bottle feed the raccoon.”
“He’s just a baby!” Makena protests with a vehemence that makes us all laugh. “You want me to starve the baby so you can get po’ boys after five p.m.! Are you a literal monster, Eloise Thibodeaux Graves?”
As they continue to debate whether or not Elly is, in fact, a monster, or simply a logical human being with a little girl to raise and a class load too intense for takeoutnotto be a part of her weekly routine, I turn to Sierra, who’s been pretty quiet so far.
“How about you?” I ask her with a smile, always conscious of the person who might be feeling left out. I’ve been that person far too often not to be. “Any other favorite brunch spots? I’m going to be in town for a while, I think. I need to start my list of the best places to try.”
She grins and blinks faster. “Oh, yeah. Tons! I can text you a list if you want. If you want to, like…give me your number.”
“I’d love that,” I say, typing my details into her phone when she passes it over.
“It’s so funny you ask, actually,” she continues with a laugh. “I’ve been working on a ‘Best Healthy Brunches in NOLA’ series for my new project.” She takes a sip of her mimosa before adding with a self-conscious shrug. “I’m starting a health and fitness in New Orleans channel. It’s in the super early stages, but I’m crazy excited about it. It feels like a step in a better direction than I was headed before.”
