* * *
"Heard y' were back in town, but I wanted t' see myself." Wit'out asking, Belladonna scraped a chair back from de café table an' dropped into it. We were adrift at dat dead hour o' night when even Nawlins stretches out t' sleep. De Café du Monde was tucked into a corner of Jackson Square. I could look out t' de river, see de lights reflected oily off de black water, hear de metallic thrum of locusts in de trees.
"Here I am," I said, wit'out looking up. Rolled my wrist for a little flourish, but ruined de effect by not meeting her eye. Could smell her perfume, even from across de table in de café where de scent o' chicory coffee was everywhere. Freesia.
"You're in a Schwegmann's bag (a lot) o' trouble now, Remy. Julien knows you're here." Felt rather dan saw her rest her elbows on de table and lean into me. Waiter came by and Bella ordered coffee. I stirred my own coffee hard until some of it slopped onto de table.
"Dat peeshwank (runt) know what's good for him an' he'll stay away from me dis time." Still hadn't looked at her.
"Y' been home yet?" she asked, gentle.
"Non. Jus' sittin' here tryin' t' t'ink of what t' say." Corner of my mouth twisted grimly at dat, remembered my cocky advice t' Rogue--don't t'ink 'bout de story before you tell it.
"To Jean-Luc?"
"Yeah. Burned my bridges pretty good de last time." He assumed dat de restless spirit was a side-effect of youth, dat I could rein myself in so Henri an' me could take over de Guild someday.
"Thought that Jean-Luc was de one that called you back. Am I wrong?"
Shook my head. "Dat wasn't for himself, just for Etienne."
"I wouldn't be so sure. He was pretty torn up when you disappeared. Wouldn't talk 'bout it, naturally. Guess de tete dure (hard head) runs in de family."
I frowned. "Not wit' Henri. He always knows de right t'ing t' do, even if he doesn't do it."
Bella sighed. "What's wrong, Remy?" She touched my hand and I tried not t' flinch away. She felt me jump and drew back herself.
"Lots o' t'ings," I mumbled, but she didn't hear, just assumed I was being stubborn.
"You don't have t' tell me, but I just thought...well...nothing I guess."
Steeled myself t' look up. Wasn't dat I was afraid t' see her. Didn't t'ink Rogue was so fleeting in my mind, but I was afraid dat I'd look at her and she'd know everyt'ing before I could talk. She was de same girl I'd come up wit'. I could look at her and see both of our pasts together. Time was I'd confused dat shared past for a future together. At least I had Magneto t' thank for dat much. He'd kept me outta de church.
She took a deep breath. "Don't worry 'bout me none, Remy. You an' me, we don't make sense like lovers, only like friends. Knew that even before you left. Julien didn't understand an' I'm afraid he still doesn't." Bella ran a nervous hand t'rough her blonde hair.
"And does dat bother you?"
"Of course it does!" she burst out angrily. "Y' t'ink I don't know what everyone says 'bout my brother? Sometimes I t'ink I'm just maudit (cursed)." She laughed wit' a hysterical edge. "I can't even have a boyfriend like a regular person because he t'inks that everyone's his rival. Sometimes he frightens me. 'm not sure if I can get out o' dis family alive."
Dat got my attention. "Why don't you just run away den? Don't tell anyone. I could help..."
Bella shook her head sadly. "It's family." She shrugged. "But there's a reason you're here, right?"
Mimicked her shrug from de moment before. "It's family."
If dere's one good t'ing in de entire Quarter, dat must be Mattie Baptiste. She was in de kitchen when I got back from de café in de early morning. For a minute, I was happy t' watch her arms move in even strokes, kneading bread. Kitchen was warm wit' de heat from de oven. De kitchen was my favorite place in de house. Always seemed like de place t' go if I pissed somebody off good and dey were comin' after me. Mattie never gave me away. She let me stay for hours, watching as she threw pinches o' t'ings into pots, not because Jean-Luc asked her to or because she was our hired help, but because she said everyt'ing came clear when she stood at de pots. Who was I t' argue wit' her dirty rice?
"Ya gonna stand dere all day, or ya gonna say hello t' your Tante Mattie," she said, wit'out turning 'round.
"T'ought I was bein' quiet for a change," I said, rueful.
"Not so quiet I don' know ya here, boy. Ya stuck 'tween old pain an' new problems, neh?"
"Y' always did have a way wit' words, Mattie." She kept kneading, smooth, even strokes. Half-wished dat she'd take me in hand an' smooth out my rough places too.
"Stay 'round dis house long 'nough an' everyone starts talkin' in platitudes."
"I don't know what t' say t' him, Mattie," I whispered, afraid dat she wouldn't hear me. Afraid dat she would.
Methodically, Mattie finished up her kneading, wiped her hands on de dishtowel, turned and threw her arms 'round my neck. For a moment it was awkward, but den I found a way t' tuck myself into her body. Leaning into her strength, it was like mine was gone. Felt empty, dizzy. Mattie smelled like de bread she was baking. She was warm.
"Y' want t' tell me all 'bout it." Wasn't a question. She sat me down at de table. She touched my tattoo. Was like magic. A cunja (spell). Told her everyt'ing, starting at de beginning and working outwards. De story spilled outta me and I couldn't have stopped it even if I'd wanted to.
* * *
Lined 'em all up an' touched each one just ta make sure they were real: the wrapper from the pastry, a plastic harmonica in the shape o' a crawfish, matchbook from "Checkpoint Charlie's," a magnet in the shape o' Louisiana, a paper coaster from a place called "The Dungeon" (that one had a glass stain on it an' a note askin' if Ah could hold my liquor as good as always), an' so the last object didn't fit. Ah picked it up an' turned it carefully in my hands so it'd catch the light. Even though it was dark out, the motel curtains were thin enough ta let in some o' the halogen light from the street.
The box had come that mornin', well packed. Ah'd thought a lot 'bout how a girl could get used ta that kind o' consideration (the harmonica had made me laugh out loud an' Ah'd made Logan promise ta teach me how ta play), but Ah hadn't been ready ta see what was inside that last box.
Because it was a serious present. It was a Bobby and Peggy Sue go steady and she wears his ring and his sweater kind o' present.
Perfume.
But not just any kinda perfume, not just Obsession or Confession or Repression or anythin' like that. The bottle was red with a small cork stopper, no label. The card at the bottom had explained everythin' Ah needed ta know 'bout Bourbon French Parfums, 'bout how they'd been around since 1843 an' specialized in custom-blended scents like the one Ah was holdin'. The one Ah'd almost dropped when Ah read what it was.
Luckily, Kitty had been readin' over my shoulder an' breathin' down my neck. Her hand shot out an' she snapped it outta the air.
"Watch it, Rogue!" she exclaimed. For a few breathless seconds, the bottle teetered on the edge o' her fingers, but she steadied it an' held it up ta her face for examination. "This is so totally cool!"
"Ya want it?"
"Uh uh." Kitty shook her head violently, forcin' the bottle back into my hands. "No way. It's all yours. It's a gift, Rogue. You're supposed to enjoy it."
"Ah don't even know if Ah want it," Ah mumbled.
"Are you crazy?"
"See? It's better if you have it." Ah tried ta make her take it back, but she just phased through my hands. "That's not fair."
"What's wrong, you don't like the guy anymore?"
"No, that's not it. It's just that Ah..."
Kitty's face softened and Ah just knew Ah was gonna regret whatever she was about ta say. "It's okay to be scared about a new relationship, Rogue. I know with me and Lance..."
"Ah'm not scared!" Ah felt my face get hot.
She rolled her eyes. "Whatever. Look, I'm just trying to give you advice. You don't have to bite my head off."
Ah hadn't smelled it yet. Much as Ah hated ta admit it, Ah was scared. Seemed like Remy was takin' the thing awfully serious. "This is you," he'd written on the back o' the card. Guess Ah'd half-believed he'd never really want ta waste time with someone he couldn't touch. Ah smoothed my hands across my stomach and swept them up ta my neck. My skin was hot. Ah uncorked the bottle an' breathed deeply, lettin' the scent fill my nose.
Spicy like cloves an' somethin' sweet too. Maybe jasmine. Ah felt dizzy. Ah took some onto my fingertips an' rolled it across my skin, over my neck an' wrists. Closed my eyes an' imagined Remy's hands there. Tried ta remember what it'd felt like ta touch him in Genosha. Everythin' was tumbled. Felt his hands above my knees, skatin' up my thighs, but that was never him. Felt the fine luxury o' soft sheets braided 'round our legs first thing in the mornin'. That was never us. Ah tried ta remember his face and was frightened when Ah couldn't.
Next mornin' Ah woke up beside the motel pool with no idea o' how Ah got there.
* * *
"Heard y' were back in town, but I wanted t' see myself." Wit'out asking, Belladonna scraped a chair back from de café table an' dropped into it. We were adrift at dat dead hour o' night when even Nawlins stretches out t' sleep. De Café du Monde was tucked into a corner of Jackson Square. I could look out t' de river, see de lights reflected oily off de black water, hear de metallic thrum of locusts in de trees.
"Here I am," I said, wit'out looking up. Rolled my wrist for a little flourish, but ruined de effect by not meeting her eye. Could smell her perfume, even from across de table in de café where de scent o' chicory coffee was everywhere. Freesia.
"You're in a Schwegmann's bag (a lot) o' trouble now, Remy. Julien knows you're here." Felt rather dan saw her rest her elbows on de table and lean into me. Waiter came by and Bella ordered coffee. I stirred my own coffee hard until some of it slopped onto de table.
"Dat peeshwank (runt) know what's good for him an' he'll stay away from me dis time." Still hadn't looked at her.
"Y' been home yet?" she asked, gentle.
"Non. Jus' sittin' here tryin' t' t'ink of what t' say." Corner of my mouth twisted grimly at dat, remembered my cocky advice t' Rogue--don't t'ink 'bout de story before you tell it.
"To Jean-Luc?"
"Yeah. Burned my bridges pretty good de last time." He assumed dat de restless spirit was a side-effect of youth, dat I could rein myself in so Henri an' me could take over de Guild someday.
"Thought that Jean-Luc was de one that called you back. Am I wrong?"
Shook my head. "Dat wasn't for himself, just for Etienne."
"I wouldn't be so sure. He was pretty torn up when you disappeared. Wouldn't talk 'bout it, naturally. Guess de tete dure (hard head) runs in de family."
I frowned. "Not wit' Henri. He always knows de right t'ing t' do, even if he doesn't do it."
Bella sighed. "What's wrong, Remy?" She touched my hand and I tried not t' flinch away. She felt me jump and drew back herself.
"Lots o' t'ings," I mumbled, but she didn't hear, just assumed I was being stubborn.
"You don't have t' tell me, but I just thought...well...nothing I guess."
Steeled myself t' look up. Wasn't dat I was afraid t' see her. Didn't t'ink Rogue was so fleeting in my mind, but I was afraid dat I'd look at her and she'd know everyt'ing before I could talk. She was de same girl I'd come up wit'. I could look at her and see both of our pasts together. Time was I'd confused dat shared past for a future together. At least I had Magneto t' thank for dat much. He'd kept me outta de church.
She took a deep breath. "Don't worry 'bout me none, Remy. You an' me, we don't make sense like lovers, only like friends. Knew that even before you left. Julien didn't understand an' I'm afraid he still doesn't." Bella ran a nervous hand t'rough her blonde hair.
"And does dat bother you?"
"Of course it does!" she burst out angrily. "Y' t'ink I don't know what everyone says 'bout my brother? Sometimes I t'ink I'm just maudit (cursed)." She laughed wit' a hysterical edge. "I can't even have a boyfriend like a regular person because he t'inks that everyone's his rival. Sometimes he frightens me. 'm not sure if I can get out o' dis family alive."
Dat got my attention. "Why don't you just run away den? Don't tell anyone. I could help..."
Bella shook her head sadly. "It's family." She shrugged. "But there's a reason you're here, right?"
Mimicked her shrug from de moment before. "It's family."
If dere's one good t'ing in de entire Quarter, dat must be Mattie Baptiste. She was in de kitchen when I got back from de café in de early morning. For a minute, I was happy t' watch her arms move in even strokes, kneading bread. Kitchen was warm wit' de heat from de oven. De kitchen was my favorite place in de house. Always seemed like de place t' go if I pissed somebody off good and dey were comin' after me. Mattie never gave me away. She let me stay for hours, watching as she threw pinches o' t'ings into pots, not because Jean-Luc asked her to or because she was our hired help, but because she said everyt'ing came clear when she stood at de pots. Who was I t' argue wit' her dirty rice?
"Ya gonna stand dere all day, or ya gonna say hello t' your Tante Mattie," she said, wit'out turning 'round.
"T'ought I was bein' quiet for a change," I said, rueful.
"Not so quiet I don' know ya here, boy. Ya stuck 'tween old pain an' new problems, neh?"
"Y' always did have a way wit' words, Mattie." She kept kneading, smooth, even strokes. Half-wished dat she'd take me in hand an' smooth out my rough places too.
"Stay 'round dis house long 'nough an' everyone starts talkin' in platitudes."
"I don't know what t' say t' him, Mattie," I whispered, afraid dat she wouldn't hear me. Afraid dat she would.
Methodically, Mattie finished up her kneading, wiped her hands on de dishtowel, turned and threw her arms 'round my neck. For a moment it was awkward, but den I found a way t' tuck myself into her body. Leaning into her strength, it was like mine was gone. Felt empty, dizzy. Mattie smelled like de bread she was baking. She was warm.
"Y' want t' tell me all 'bout it." Wasn't a question. She sat me down at de table. She touched my tattoo. Was like magic. A cunja (spell). Told her everyt'ing, starting at de beginning and working outwards. De story spilled outta me and I couldn't have stopped it even if I'd wanted to.
* * *
Lined 'em all up an' touched each one just ta make sure they were real: the wrapper from the pastry, a plastic harmonica in the shape o' a crawfish, matchbook from "Checkpoint Charlie's," a magnet in the shape o' Louisiana, a paper coaster from a place called "The Dungeon" (that one had a glass stain on it an' a note askin' if Ah could hold my liquor as good as always), an' so the last object didn't fit. Ah picked it up an' turned it carefully in my hands so it'd catch the light. Even though it was dark out, the motel curtains were thin enough ta let in some o' the halogen light from the street.
The box had come that mornin', well packed. Ah'd thought a lot 'bout how a girl could get used ta that kind o' consideration (the harmonica had made me laugh out loud an' Ah'd made Logan promise ta teach me how ta play), but Ah hadn't been ready ta see what was inside that last box.
Because it was a serious present. It was a Bobby and Peggy Sue go steady and she wears his ring and his sweater kind o' present.
Perfume.
But not just any kinda perfume, not just Obsession or Confession or Repression or anythin' like that. The bottle was red with a small cork stopper, no label. The card at the bottom had explained everythin' Ah needed ta know 'bout Bourbon French Parfums, 'bout how they'd been around since 1843 an' specialized in custom-blended scents like the one Ah was holdin'. The one Ah'd almost dropped when Ah read what it was.
Luckily, Kitty had been readin' over my shoulder an' breathin' down my neck. Her hand shot out an' she snapped it outta the air.
"Watch it, Rogue!" she exclaimed. For a few breathless seconds, the bottle teetered on the edge o' her fingers, but she steadied it an' held it up ta her face for examination. "This is so totally cool!"
"Ya want it?"
"Uh uh." Kitty shook her head violently, forcin' the bottle back into my hands. "No way. It's all yours. It's a gift, Rogue. You're supposed to enjoy it."
"Ah don't even know if Ah want it," Ah mumbled.
"Are you crazy?"
"See? It's better if you have it." Ah tried ta make her take it back, but she just phased through my hands. "That's not fair."
"What's wrong, you don't like the guy anymore?"
"No, that's not it. It's just that Ah..."
Kitty's face softened and Ah just knew Ah was gonna regret whatever she was about ta say. "It's okay to be scared about a new relationship, Rogue. I know with me and Lance..."
"Ah'm not scared!" Ah felt my face get hot.
She rolled her eyes. "Whatever. Look, I'm just trying to give you advice. You don't have to bite my head off."
Ah hadn't smelled it yet. Much as Ah hated ta admit it, Ah was scared. Seemed like Remy was takin' the thing awfully serious. "This is you," he'd written on the back o' the card. Guess Ah'd half-believed he'd never really want ta waste time with someone he couldn't touch. Ah smoothed my hands across my stomach and swept them up ta my neck. My skin was hot. Ah uncorked the bottle an' breathed deeply, lettin' the scent fill my nose.
Spicy like cloves an' somethin' sweet too. Maybe jasmine. Ah felt dizzy. Ah took some onto my fingertips an' rolled it across my skin, over my neck an' wrists. Closed my eyes an' imagined Remy's hands there. Tried ta remember what it'd felt like ta touch him in Genosha. Everythin' was tumbled. Felt his hands above my knees, skatin' up my thighs, but that was never him. Felt the fine luxury o' soft sheets braided 'round our legs first thing in the mornin'. That was never us. Ah tried ta remember his face and was frightened when Ah couldn't.
Next mornin' Ah woke up beside the motel pool with no idea o' how Ah got there.
* * *