Chapter 10: Take Care of Yourself, Mac
Dear Gus,
I am sorry I haven't been able to return your phone calls, but I hope this letter will suffice. I am fine, and yes, I am trying to sleep at home in my bed. I was taking care of myself long before Claire ever introduced me to you, you know. Just how would you respond to the same litany of questions you asked me? I thought so.
We just wrapped up a case and I kept thinking of you during it, and not just the victim was a blonde with green eyes (don't think I can't tell you are rolling your eyes at me). You must have sent some of that New Orleans mojo up here, because the case was about real live Sanguinistas and I couldn't help but think about that first summer I met you when you were devouring all those Anne Rice books.
I thought they were a little too dark and mature for some bubbly teenage girl, but as Claire pointed out, there were worse ways for you to cope. She also pointed out that you also did endless hours of research on the history of New Orleans, Louisiana, Italy, Egypt, slavery, creoles, etc. because of them and that I probably should learn to pick my battles with you.
I don't know if I have gotten any better at that over the years. For instance, I wonder if I shouldn't have done more last year to try to get you back from New Orleans, yes I see the irony since I practically shipped you off there this time. Perhaps I shouldn't have tried to battle with you when you first got together with Don, maybe if I had been more accepting of your relationship, you would have been more accepting of your relationship, one I now realize was greater and deeper than any of us ever knew. I shouldn't have tried to stop your happiness, Gussie, but you shouldn't try to stop it either. You have to stop letting the ghosts in your past haunt you. All of them.
Take Care of Yourself,
Mac
Gus shoved the letter back in her tote, her shoulders sagging. She had tried to catch up with Mac since she received the letter from Sheldon, but they had done nothing more than play phone tag.
While a brief smile had crossed her face, followed by a snort at Mac busting her on her slight obsession with night-walkers in her youth, she couldn't help but feel he was ducking her calls for some unknown reason. She just hoped that Don hadn't met someone new...
"Why the hound dog face, Broussard?" Lieutenant Colston asked, the door of the trailer banging shut behind him.
"Sorry, sir," Gus replied, barely looking up until he whistled.
"Have you been sleeping here, kid?" Colston asked as he looked around at the drastic transformation the trailer had undergone since even the last time he had been there.
Gus shrugged, she was putting in a lot of hours, desperate to get cases in order enough to actually start trying to make them active again. She also had tracked down every person listed on the grant, shaming them into showing their sorry hides now and again.
Despite her best efforts, she still felt thwarted. "It looks nicer than it is. Mostly just a lot of new copies and clean boxes. I upgraded to plastic tubs, hope you don't mind, sir."
"Not my budget," Colston quipped. "What is the status of all this?" he said, gesturing at the now carefully labeled tubs.
"I set up a database and have sorted through what I could, made careful records of anything that couldn't be salvaged and tore a new one into everyone that hadn't shown their faces here for months. Speaking of which, I think I owe a lot of people a lot of lunches, I may have been a little too much of a New Yorker on some of them," Gus paused as Colston chuckled,"but most of my progress is just window dressing, without a lab to handle all the evidence, these cases are colder than it is in New York now and the basement is still a wreck."
"Still, this is far more than I expected to get done in the entire time you were here. I may not let you go back, Broussard!" Colston raised his eyebrows at her, wondering if there was any hope of getting her to come back home.
Gus squared her shoulders and cocked a hand on her hip, "sir, no disrespect intended, but I am on the first plane out of here in a hot second as soon as my exchange is up."
Colston shook his head, "maybe you need to quit spending so much time this moldy trailer and remember what a great city this is. Some things are better than they have ever been, Broussard."
"Maybe so, sir, I am not denying it is a wonderful city and part of my heart will always be here..." she trailed off.
"But let me guess, to steal from Harry Junior, you miss the one you care for more than you miss here?" Colston stared her down, wondering what her deal was. He had been more interested in getting his house in order than he had been in her back-story when he heard Daddino bragging at that conference.
Gus just nodded, her arms falling to her sides. "Regardless, kid, it's almost Carnival time, this place will be locked up tighter than a tick, so get out there and enjoy yourself." Gus sighed, opening her mouth to protest, she was here to work and get her head on straight, not catch beads and doubloons. "Don't try to argue, Broussard, it's an order," Colston barked before exiting the trailer.
"Oh, somebody is in trouble," Chanda said coming out from behind the partition where she was making copies, "though I have to admit I have never heard someone get order to go to Mardi Gras! Speaking of which, what balls have you been to so far?"
"None, though Billy keeps bugging me to join him."
"None, pretty Uptown girl like you?" Chanda smiled.
Gus rolled her eyes, "I have seen the inside of the Municipal Auditorium and been called out more than enough in my lifetime, Chanda, I am all good."
"Well, excuse me, Miss Fancy, but you let ol' Chanda know if you want to slum it down at the Convention Center, we bought tons of table this year since my Uncle is Big Shot."
It took Gus a second to realize Chanda was saying she had a relative who was royalty in Zulu and another second to feel sad that she had to think about it. Maybe she was turning Yankee, though she hoped not.
"I would love to come, Chanda, though I am not wearing some cream puff of a dress."
Chanda gave her a look, "with that figure, I should hope the hell not, though we still got to work on fattening you back up, child!"
"I am working on it," Gus replied, with a sly smile, "speaking of which, you want to go grab some lunch?"
"Girl, don't ask silly questions," Chanda replied, grabbing her purse.
Gus curled up in bed, her hair damp from her bath, looking down at her phone as though she was willing it to ring. In a way she was, not that there was any real reason for it to. It was getting late and she hadn't received that many calls since being back in New Orleans.
Yet still, she held on to faint hope that Don would somehow pick up on how much she yearned to hear his voice and would magically call her. Mac's words were sitting heavy with her as well.
Taking a deep breath, Gus hit the first number on her speed dial, chewing on her lip as it rang. She tried to not cry out in frustration when it clicked over to voice mail but lost her nerve when it came time to leave a message, only managing to mumble, "hey, Don, it's me, just, um, wanted to say hi, it's, ah, Gus, by the way. Talk to you later."
She mentally kicked herself as she hung up, deciding to write a few quick emails before bed.
Don stood under the hot spray of the water, trying to wash the alley grime and slush of the day off. 'Why do they always have to run', he thought, groaning as he heard his phone buzzing. Another DB, seriously, it had already been a hell of a week.
First there was that vampire case and the runner today and all he wanted was a night off. Well, that wasn't all he wanted, but he wasn't about to get what he wanted anytime soon, considering the object of his desire was 1300 miles away...he turned off the shower, wrapping a towel around his waist and going to see where the latest victim in the city lay.
While relieved to see the missed call wasn't from dispatch, he felt his heart twist as he realized he had missed a call from Gus. He had wanted to call her countless times since he had sent that stupid email, the one where he chickened out and didn't tell her how much he loved her and missed her and wanted to start things over again.
He listened to her voice mail, his stomach sinking as she just fumbled her way through a surface message, though he didn't know why he was hoping for more. Especially when you considered his last angry words to her in person, he had kicked himself for not calling her to have the talk he knew they needed to have and now he wondered if he had missed his chance.
Chapter 11: Right by You (Love, Don)
Don glowered at his computer, trying to ignore the buzz of the pit around him as he listened to Gus' voice mail again. Just wanted to say hi, did she really think he wouldn't know it was her? He grumbled slightly, opening up his email before he could second guess himself again.
Gus,
I got your voice mail, sorry I missed your call, I was trying to spray off some alley grime. While you are out prancing in 55 degree weather, we are all freezing our butts off up here. At least the snow finally finished melting, I know how much you hate slush.
You don't have to tell me it is you calling, sunshine, first off, I got caller id and secondly, I think I would know your voice even if I was deaf, dumb, blind and played a mean pinball. Please tell me you are laughing at that reference. It stinks not having you here, that Piroleaux kid doesn't get half of my jokes and I have wasted some prime material on him. I can't believe he is a homicide detective at 22. The NOPD throw shields out at those parades of yours?
Which reminds me, you should have heard the crap the boy caught when he requested off for a long weekend to come down there for Mardi Gras, Lafferty ragged him so hard about calling it a religious celebration, it set them off for hours. Simmer down, sunshine, I can see the smoke coming out of your ears from here, I set them straight and defended the poor kid. Apparently he dropped like two grand just to ride in some funny sounding parade...End-something?
I remember all your stories, you would always get the biggest smile on your face talking about the kids on ladders at parades, though that still doesn't sound safe to me, and the amount of work that people put into their costumes and how long it takes to build a float...you made it clear it is so much more than just fancy balls and co-eds flashing for plastic beads. I miss that smile, it has been too long since I have seen it, and not just because you have been gone for eleven weeks, four days and seven hours, not that I counted.
Daddino felt so sorry for him, he is letting him come down there. Lucky bastard, I guess he will get to see you, even if his place wasn't nice enough for you to stay at. I'm just teasing you, Gus. I am glad you are staying with Billy, and don't let him know I said this, but I know Mac is too, he's worrying about you. I wish, well, I wish a lot of things, but I really wish you would have shown me your New Orleans before it became this city of contention for us, I mean I guess there isn't really anything stopping you from showing me your New Orleans and I have heard about a few drinks down in that swamp of yours that will make me forget any contention and possibly my name...except me being here and drowning in work. Speaking of which, looks like I have to cut this short because Daddino is bitching at me to get over to Trinity General because some race car guy went up in flames and apparently he has been get death threats all month.
But before I go, I just wanted to apologize for my last email, lets just say there was a lot more I wanted to say, still want to say, I just gotta figure out how to say it all first. I want to do right by you, sunshine, always.
Love,Don
He hit send as Daddino roared at him to get his ass in gear, once again wishing he had said more.
"It is a ball, sugar, not a funeral, could you at least try to look like you are having fun?" Billy quipped as he handed Gus another drink.
Gus took a long swallow and pasted a beauty queen smile on her face, "that better, Billy?"
He grimaced, "it is actually a little frightening how well you do that. Now why the St. Jame's Infirmary impression?"
Gus sighed, "it's just, this is my first Mardi Gras night back since, you know, and this wasn't at all how I pictured it."
Billy gave a small snort, "no kidding, I can't believe none of your New York friends took you up on your offer of free lodging for Mardi Gras! Those Yanks do not know what they are missing out on. At least they let that poor little boy back for his Endymion ride."
Gus gave a small smile, "you're just happy because it meant we got tickets to the Extravaganza!"
"Maybe a little," Billy with a smirk, "regardless, don't let their loss get you down. How about we go cut a rug and celebrate a certain Super Bowl win?"
"My pleasure, Billy, but I don't think we can cut a rug at the Comus ball," she started walking to the dance floor until Billy suddenly jerked her in another direction.
"You are so right, sugar, it is just a bunch of old fuddy duddies trying to waltz, maybe we should just head on over to the club, we really should take advantage of my owning a club in the Quarter..." Billy trailed off as Gus yanked herself out of his grip.
"Tibs, what the hell?" she exclaimed, wondering if she had just broken her heel during Billy's about-face.
Billy took in his friend's fiery expression and knew she would not let up until she got an explanation. "Well, uh, there is just someone who I forgot would be here..." he trailed off, trying to not look and wincing as Gus picked up on it and looked in the exact direction he didn't want her to. The fire extinguished immediately in her eyes as she caught sight of her no good ex-fiancee, replaced by a clenched jaw and squared shoulders.
"Gage," she whispered, "of course he is here."
"Yes, which is why I think you and I should just head on out the smoker's door and get our cute little behinds down to the Quarter before the mounted unit comes on through to chase us all home," Billy said trying to lead her away.
"No," Gus said, thinking of the letter from Mac, she had to let the ghosts from her past stop haunting her, she told Don she had things to work through and she was going to, starting now.
"No?" Billy asked, incredulous.
Gus drew herself up, looking every bit as graceful as the debutantes scattered around the ball, chin held high as she strode to where Gage Fontenot and his wife were standing. Well as graceful as she could with a wobbling heel. Billy followed close behind, not wanting to miss the fireworks.
He noticed her right away, her figure like a specter floating into his line of vision. Gage was suddenly caught in a time warp, he hadn't set eyes on his former financee in years and he had worked hard to remove any vestiges of her in his new life. He prayed she wasn't about to make a scene, not here, his father would fall out with a heart attack if she did. He thought about telling Bitsy to go get them another round of drinks, but he worried she would get suspicious. Bitsy had started to catch on to his dalliances as of late...
"Why Gage Fontenot, it has been ages, hasn't it?" Gus said, trying to keep her tone light and lilting, determined to not make a scene while banishing this demon permanently.
"Augusta?" Gage replied, sounding a little shocked, though he was more shocked at her tone than her presence. He had expected her to go on the attack, strutting up like the little bitch wannabe cop she was.
He studied her, the golden silk halter dress matching her loose curtain of hair and skimming over her curves, her makeup lighter than nearly every other woman in the room, but her natural beauty shining through. There was something different about her, she seemed haunted somehow, but softer than he ever remembered. He just couldn't figure out why she was in New Orleans and not New York, he vaguely remembered hearing gossip that still trickled up to Natchez, but he couldn't remember it all...
"In the flesh," she said, putting a hand out toward Bitsy, "Augusta Broussard, but everyone calls me Gus, except Billy's dear mother and my uncle when I am in trouble," she said, introducing herself with a thousand watt smile.
Bitsy shook her hand limply, resting her other palm on the barely perceptible bump in her couture ball gown. Her smile was wide, but her eyes told Gus she knew exactly who the woman before her was.
Gus took in the other woman's defensive and territorial move. "Oh, how far along are you? You are absolutely glowing, by the way. Is this your first?" Gus twittered on, trying to ignore Billy choking back a laugh.
"Five months, our third in fact, three under five, it is exhausting but so rewarding. I can't imagine being anything other than a good wife and mother! What about you, married, children? Don't you know Gage from school?" Bitsy tried to feign innocence but failed. Gage paled beside her.
Gus took in the woman's carefully applied makeup and long sleeves, not to mention that slightly caged look in her eyes. She would bet everything left in her trust fund that both things were hiding bruises inflicted by the man she was trying to not throttle.
Gus opened her mouth to speak, but Billy jumped in, worried about her reaction and not wanting a scene, knowing it would get back to his mother in a second.
"Oh Gussie is doing just fine, the NOPD is trying to steal her away from New York, she is just about taking over, I am thinking about having Buela sew her a cape, my little Super Hero. She barely takes time to sleep, let alone get married or have babies, but I am sure it is coming, once she takes a break from keeping all of us civilians safe, her detective man friend back in New York could practically be on the cover of the NYPD calendar, if you know what I mean," Billy waggled his eyebrows, camping it up.
Gus shot him a look, "Oh, Billy, you flatter me so. Gage, it has been too long, Bitsy you mind if I steal him for one little dance? Billy, get this poor girl a seat and some punch!"
Before Gage could protest, Gus moved them to the dance floor.
"What is going on, Broussard?" Gage growled.
Gus was not dissuaded and Gage noticed she did not flinch in his arms or whither at his gaze like she used to. "Just thought a couple of old friends should catch up, that's all. Recovery and all that." She smiled up at him, but her eyes gave away that she was on a mission.
"How about we take a walk, outside?" Gage said, trying to get a grip on her arm, shocked at the muscle below her soft curves.
"Sounds perfect," Gus said, moving so that she was dragging him and not the other way around.
They stepped out a side door of the hotel, quickly caught up in the crush of revelers at the corner of Decatur and Canal. "You care to tell me how the hell you got in to the Comus ball are what you are doing in New Orleans?" Gage said, his jaw working.
"I am here as Billy's date, and as you well know his father-"
"I know all about the damn Brooks family, Augusta, but what is going on with you and this stupid tri-Delt routine?"
Gus steeled herself, knowing it was now or never. "I am here on an exchange program for work, trying to get the massive amount of cold cases NOPD is collecting under control. I am also here because I am working through some things."
Gage didn't even try to hide his bark. "That sounds more like the old Augusta. Always some sob story with you, isn't it? What was it this time, some ghetto punks not take your Mother Theresa routine very well?"
"Shut up, Gage and listen good. I am not that frightened little bunny of a girl you talked into getting engaged. I put up with your crap because I thought I deserved it, because I wanted the family I never got to have become some psycho murdered my parents. I thought you could offer me everything I was ever supposed to want or have.
I am better than all that and better than you and don't stand there looking all smug and superior. You can have your big ol' plantation house in Natchez and your cushy corporate law partnership and your obedient stick of a wife and your complaisant children in their ridiculous smocked clothing and shove it up your ass, because you are nothing but an abusing bully who gets off on power you don't even have.
Bitsy may never wake up and realize she has thrown her life away from a jerk who sleeps with anything that moves, but thank god I did. I am glad you split my lip with your stupid frigging' frat ring, because it did actually knock some sense into me.
We would have never worked, we didn't ever work. I don't want the life you have, I need something different. But thank you, thank you for being enough of an ass that I found where I am supposed to be. I have happiness and a family that loves me for who I am and I have a job that I am great at and a place that I can really call home. For maybe the first time in my life I know where I belong and who I am, and I guess I do owe that to you and Katrina. So thank you, Gage Fontenot." Gus ended her speech, feeling a little haggard, but quickly covering it up.
She couldn't have been more shocked when Gage gave her a small and wistful smile before answering. "You are right, Augusta, always were. I had already worked my way through the social register and was desperateto not lose my trust fund. You seemed like an easy target, were one for a bit.
But I wasn't happy, you weren't happy and you weren't going to give me what I wanted, what I deserved. I know you won't ever understand my life, just like I won't understand yours," he gave a small shrug. "Thank you, for not having your little tirade inside."
Gus thought about jumping on him for using the word tirade to brush off her pouring everything out to him, but judging by his sagging shoulders, she knew she had gotten through to him, so she kept her mouth shut.
"Speaking of inside, I should get back before Bitsy wonders where I am."
His tone was more than she could take. "Who is it this time, Gage? Secretary? Paralegal? Mail room girl?" she asked, sadness more than venom in her tone.
He had to give her credit for her astuteness, especially since it was no longer his problem. A reptilian smile spread across his face, "nanny, actually," he replied before disappearing back into the crowd.
Gus made her way back to the hotel, Billy already out front and looking for her. "You alright, sugar?" he asked, looking at her carefully.
She broke out into a very genuine smile, "actually, Billy, I am better than I have been in a long time. Now how about we get the hell out of here, I happen to have an amazing friend that owns one of the best clubs in the Quarter." With that, they linked arms and let themselves get lost in the magic of the night.