Vendors and designers are always giving her free swag. Occasionally, she snags something for me.
“I knew that blue would be amazing on you,” she says. “It matches your eyes.”
Spying Cash over my shoulder, she twirls one of her tight ringlets around her finger and it makes the rows of gold bangles jangle on her thin arm. Her hair and her height make her look like a total badass. Which is laughable because Eva is the sweetest woman you’ll ever meet.
She’s funny too. The kind of funny that never resorts to sarcasm.
“Eva.” I gesture toward Cash, my past meeting…well…my less distant past. Eva and I Skyped for two hours earlier this week. I used the first hour to tell her all about Luc and Cash’s homecoming, and then to complain to her about Cash’s weird refusal to talk about the past. For the remaining hour, I bent her ear worrying about what George Sullivan will do once he hears they’re back. “Let me introduce you to Cash Armstrong. Cash, this is the amazingly talented Evangeline Bell, my oldest and dearest friend.”
“Miss Bell.” Cash takes her hand. “I’ve heard so much about you. In high school, Maggie sang your praises day and night.”
“I’ve heard a lot about you too.” Eva firms her chin, and darned if her eyes don’t flash with temperament. “Not all of it was good.”
Cash winces. Then he gifts her with a wink and that patented grin that’s been melting hearts since the day he was born. “Would you believe me if I blamed my bad behavior on youth?”
She sniffs disdainfully, but I can tell Cash’s charm is already chipping away at her walls. “We’ll have to wait and see about that, won’t we?”
I turn to find Luc standing with my aunts near the foot of the grand staircase. “Luc? Did you meet Eva?”
“Haven’t had the pleasure,” he says.
“I came in the back door right when you came in the front,” Eva explains. “Miss Bea. Miss June.” She nods to my aunts, who have taken hold of Luc’s arms so he can escort them in our direction. “It sure is good to see y’all again. Thank you for inviting me today.”
“Don’t thank me, honey,” Auntie June says. “Bea got wind you were coming back to town early because your Uber driver, Devon, told his second cousin, Jimmy Don Collins, who does some handiwork for us, that he had the pleasure to drive you home from the airport this morning.”
Have I mentioned that New Orleans operates more like a small town than a big city?
“Anyway,” Auntie June continues, “Bea jumped at the idea of having you here to surprise Maggie, but more so everyone else. You know every single one of the ladies coming today, young and old, dreams of being a model. And I’m warning you right now, most of them can talk a raccoon right out of a tree. They’ll pepper you with questions until you’re too pooped to pop.”
Aunt Bea holds teas once a month. Sometimes they’re simple get-togethers of the ladies in her bridge club. Other times she invites local politicians and business owners to discuss the state of the city. And occasionally, she calls a meeting with the board members and volunteers from one of her charities.
Today is one of the latter. The Daughters of City Health Foundation provides funding for free medical clinics across Orleans Parish. It’s principally run by the wives and the daughters of the Crescent City’s founding families. That it’s also funded by the generous donations of thosesamefamilies, folks who are always on the lookout for the next great tax exemption, deduction, or loophole, is something no one discusses.
“I won’t let you down, Miss Bea,” Eva promises.
“Of course you won’t.” Aunt Bea air-kisses her cheek. “You could never disappoint. And don’t listen to June. Unlike her, the ladies coming today are the height of propriety.”
Auntie June snorts.
“Eva, this is Lucien Dubois.” I touch Luc’s shoulder. “Luc, this is Eva. You remember me telling you about her?”
“Of course. I feel like I know you already, Eva.” Luc takes her hand and I see her swallow convulsively. Then her eyes go dreamy, and I recognize the look on her face. It’s the same one the leggy blonde from the bar wore right before Luc ushered her into the night.
It seems Luc has developed a power over the fairer sex. I have to admit, I’m bemused because, come on…he’sLuc.
“Maggie lived for that week each summer when she flew to Houston for a visit,” he tells Eva. “She would pack her suitcases a month in advance.”
“I lived for that week too,” Eva admits.
Is her voice husky?
Glancing between them, I try to imagine what it might be like if two of my best friends actually hooked up. Before I can get too far down that winding, pothole-filled road, the front door bursts open.
“I picked up that bouquet of dahlias you wanted to use for the centerpiece on the buffet table, Aunt Bea!” Vee calls as she turns to nudge the door closed with her hip. She’s carrying two huge grocery bags. Protruding from the top of one is the bouquet of flowers. It’s tall enough to obscure her face. “But the bakery was out of praline monkey bread pudding,” she continues, unaware we’re all standing less than five feet away. “So I got the banana pudding layer cake instead. I hope that’s okay, I—oh, land sakes alive!”
When she sees us, she bobbles the shopping bags. Luckily, Cash is there to steady them in her arms before she loses them completely.
“Thank you,” she tells him, looking flushed and flustered.
