Next Bit
Well, well, well, two posts in one week, have I lost my mind?
Marissa was still perplexed when she opened the back door to the coffee shop.
“You’re here early,” Kira called from her seat at the scarred kitchen table. Sha had the early paper spread out in from of her and a cup of her secret indulgence in her hands. She would call Mariisa a liar until she was blue in the face if word ever got out that the mornings she was feeling lazy and indulgent, Kira drained a cup of Starbuck’s instant coffee, Via.
“I have and odd evening and I wanted to talk to someone sane.” Kira gave her a crooked smile, “Looks like you’ll have to settle for me.” She pushed the chair out across from her out from under the table with her foot. “The office is open, what ail’s ya?”
“Jason.”
“I thought you two were getting along.”
“That’s part of the problem. I don’t know what to expect from him anymore. I used to know that I’d get a glare or snippy comment. Now, he’s being nice.”
Kira waited for more but Marissa sat silent. “And what’s wrong with him being nice to you?”
“Everyting! I think he even was trying to flirt with me yesterday. To make things even more weird he picked me up after my shift yesterday and took me to a jazz club in Baton Rouge. Ever heard of Jazzy Jewels?”
“You’d have to be def, dumb, and blind not to have. How’d he get in there, I hear it takes months to get a table?”
“Turns out, he’s part owner.” Marissa gave Kira a rye smile.
“He takes you to Jazzy Jewels for your first date and drops the word he owns part of it? Why can’t I get a guy like that?”
“That’s just it, He never SAID it was a date, what if that’s just the kind of guy he is?”
Kira was confused, “Wait, it WASN’T a date?”
“I don’t think so. He barely touched me the entire evening, and he kept himself pretty distant.”
“Huh, odd.”
“Odd doesn’t even begin to describe it.” Marissa shrugged, “Come on, let’s get to work.”
*****
Saturday rolled around and Marissa happily pulled on her old keds. It felt like ages since she had worked out in the yard. Hanging on a peg right above where she kept her shoes was the wide-brimmed straw hat that Franny had given her. It was silly, impractical, and made her smile, so she put it on as well. She’d been out just long enough for a light sheen of sweat to cause her to stop and wipe her forehead with the sleeve of her faded button down when movement hear the front walk caught her attention. Leaving her gardening tools where they were, she ducted herself off and went to investigate.
She had just passed into the shade of the old oaks when she spotted two men in suits talking together just inside of the front gate. “Can I help you?” Her first thought was tourist talking a walk through the historic garden district looking at the houses, but on a second glance it occured to her that tourists (even rich ones) did not walk around in dark suits. Once she got a better look, everything about the two men screamed government, she’d seen enough of them in the months following Katrina, to be able to spot them pretty quickly.
The two men looked at her starteld. “Umm, yes, we’re with the Rogers and Cowton Historical society and we’re making the rounds to check on historical homes to make sure repaires were in order. If its not too much trouble we’ll just do a quick look?”
“I’m afraid it is. Someone must have not updated the tour registry. We took the house off the list, the family is in residence.” The men gave her a blank look. “We live here now, we aren’t going to be giving tours anymore. Anyway, the historical society should already have the paperwork on the repairs, we used one of their recommended contractors.”
“Oh, well,” the men exchanged looks. “We’re sorry to have taken up your time miss. Enjoy your time in residence.” The men left her standing in the shade. A dark sadan with tinted windows roared to life, pulled an illegal U-turn and took the two men away.
“Members of the historical society my ass.” Marissa pulled her cell phone from her back pocket and made a call.
A perky voice answered, “New Orleans Historical Society.”
“Hi, Stephanie, this is Marissa Laborde, down at the Havenward house.”
“Hey Marissa, how are you?” Marissa had gotten to know Stephanie fairly well while she was learning the roped of managing historical homes. If there was anything worth knowing in New Orleans, Stephanie knew it, she prided herself on being well informed. She could also listen to three conversations at once, have one herself and be able to repeat almost everything back word for word.
“I’m doin’ good. How’ve you been? Haven’t seen you in the shop for a while.”
“Doctor pulled the plug n my caffeine habit, but other than that, couldn’t be better.”
Marissa smiled, Stephanie used to be one that would come in for her coffee fix before work, on her lunch break and right after work. “You know, we serve something called decaf coffee.”
“There’s no point to coffee without caffeine. Anyway, I’ll be back to my usual in about 8 months.”
“You’re only giving up caffeine for 9 months?” There was silence on the other end. Marissa thought about what she had just said and mentally smack her forehead. “Let me guess, congratulations are in order?”
“Yep, Jake is hoping for a little boy, I just want healthy. But enough about me; are you calling because you’ve talked the Havenwards into putting the house back on the tour?”
“Sadly no, have you heard of a group called Rodgers and Cowton Historical Socity?”
“The name doesn’t ring a bell. Why?” If Stephanie didn’t know the company, than it didn’t exist in New Orleans.”
“I just had two guys in suits claiming to be from there wanting to look over the house.”
“Casing the place?” Stephanie didn’t trust guys in suits anymore than Marissa.
“Possibly, but they looked more like The Man, than shady.”
“Both spell trouble. I’ll keep my ears open in case they show up anywhere else.” Just what Marissa was hoping for, Stephanie would be as good as a wire taps on half of New Orleans.”
“Thanks Steph. Come in one of these days and I’ll make you a smoothie on the house.”
“Oh, twist my are why don’t you?” Stephanie laughed into the phone.
Marissa was still perplexed when she opened the back door to the coffee shop.
“You’re here early,” Kira called from her seat at the scarred kitchen table. Sha had the early paper spread out in from of her and a cup of her secret indulgence in her hands. She would call Mariisa a liar until she was blue in the face if word ever got out that the mornings she was feeling lazy and indulgent, Kira drained a cup of Starbuck’s instant coffee, Via.
“I have and odd evening and I wanted to talk to someone sane.” Kira gave her a crooked smile, “Looks like you’ll have to settle for me.” She pushed the chair out across from her out from under the table with her foot. “The office is open, what ail’s ya?”
“Jason.”
“I thought you two were getting along.”
“That’s part of the problem. I don’t know what to expect from him anymore. I used to know that I’d get a glare or snippy comment. Now, he’s being nice.”
Kira waited for more but Marissa sat silent. “And what’s wrong with him being nice to you?”
“Everyting! I think he even was trying to flirt with me yesterday. To make things even more weird he picked me up after my shift yesterday and took me to a jazz club in Baton Rouge. Ever heard of Jazzy Jewels?”
“You’d have to be def, dumb, and blind not to have. How’d he get in there, I hear it takes months to get a table?”
“Turns out, he’s part owner.” Marissa gave Kira a rye smile.
“He takes you to Jazzy Jewels for your first date and drops the word he owns part of it? Why can’t I get a guy like that?”
“That’s just it, He never SAID it was a date, what if that’s just the kind of guy he is?”
Kira was confused, “Wait, it WASN’T a date?”
“I don’t think so. He barely touched me the entire evening, and he kept himself pretty distant.”
“Huh, odd.”
“Odd doesn’t even begin to describe it.” Marissa shrugged, “Come on, let’s get to work.”
*****
Saturday rolled around and Marissa happily pulled on her old keds. It felt like ages since she had worked out in the yard. Hanging on a peg right above where she kept her shoes was the wide-brimmed straw hat that Franny had given her. It was silly, impractical, and made her smile, so she put it on as well. She’d been out just long enough for a light sheen of sweat to cause her to stop and wipe her forehead with the sleeve of her faded button down when movement hear the front walk caught her attention. Leaving her gardening tools where they were, she ducted herself off and went to investigate.
She had just passed into the shade of the old oaks when she spotted two men in suits talking together just inside of the front gate. “Can I help you?” Her first thought was tourist talking a walk through the historic garden district looking at the houses, but on a second glance it occured to her that tourists (even rich ones) did not walk around in dark suits. Once she got a better look, everything about the two men screamed government, she’d seen enough of them in the months following Katrina, to be able to spot them pretty quickly.
The two men looked at her starteld. “Umm, yes, we’re with the Rogers and Cowton Historical society and we’re making the rounds to check on historical homes to make sure repaires were in order. If its not too much trouble we’ll just do a quick look?”
“I’m afraid it is. Someone must have not updated the tour registry. We took the house off the list, the family is in residence.” The men gave her a blank look. “We live here now, we aren’t going to be giving tours anymore. Anyway, the historical society should already have the paperwork on the repairs, we used one of their recommended contractors.”
“Oh, well,” the men exchanged looks. “We’re sorry to have taken up your time miss. Enjoy your time in residence.” The men left her standing in the shade. A dark sadan with tinted windows roared to life, pulled an illegal U-turn and took the two men away.
“Members of the historical society my ass.” Marissa pulled her cell phone from her back pocket and made a call.
A perky voice answered, “New Orleans Historical Society.”
“Hi, Stephanie, this is Marissa Laborde, down at the Havenward house.”
“Hey Marissa, how are you?” Marissa had gotten to know Stephanie fairly well while she was learning the roped of managing historical homes. If there was anything worth knowing in New Orleans, Stephanie knew it, she prided herself on being well informed. She could also listen to three conversations at once, have one herself and be able to repeat almost everything back word for word.
“I’m doin’ good. How’ve you been? Haven’t seen you in the shop for a while.”
“Doctor pulled the plug n my caffeine habit, but other than that, couldn’t be better.”
Marissa smiled, Stephanie used to be one that would come in for her coffee fix before work, on her lunch break and right after work. “You know, we serve something called decaf coffee.”
“There’s no point to coffee without caffeine. Anyway, I’ll be back to my usual in about 8 months.”
“You’re only giving up caffeine for 9 months?” There was silence on the other end. Marissa thought about what she had just said and mentally smack her forehead. “Let me guess, congratulations are in order?”
“Yep, Jake is hoping for a little boy, I just want healthy. But enough about me; are you calling because you’ve talked the Havenwards into putting the house back on the tour?”
“Sadly no, have you heard of a group called Rodgers and Cowton Historical Socity?”
“The name doesn’t ring a bell. Why?” If Stephanie didn’t know the company, than it didn’t exist in New Orleans.”
“I just had two guys in suits claiming to be from there wanting to look over the house.”
“Casing the place?” Stephanie didn’t trust guys in suits anymore than Marissa.
“Possibly, but they looked more like The Man, than shady.”
“Both spell trouble. I’ll keep my ears open in case they show up anywhere else.” Just what Marissa was hoping for, Stephanie would be as good as a wire taps on half of New Orleans.”
“Thanks Steph. Come in one of these days and I’ll make you a smoothie on the house.”
“Oh, twist my are why don’t you?” Stephanie laughed into the phone.