4.2: "Deer Miss DuBois"

"Another Saturday Night, and I ain't got nobody…"

Broadway frowned at the radio playing in the kitchen, then reached out and changed the channel with a flick of his talon. Sometimes, those songs on the radio were just a little too close to the truth.

Not that the song really applied to him, oh no! He had a girlfriend, heck, almost a fiancée; she just wasn't down in the kitchen at the moment. Angela was still in the library working with Benedict, this clan's chronicler, to translate some really old diaries or something from Latin. Brooklyn had helped last night after he'd gotten clear of the ladies chasing him, and they'd translated four of those old books, but Angela had said there were still three more to go.

Broadway wished he could help with that translating, too, but he'd never learned to read Latin… heck, he still had trouble with English sometimes! Though he was getting a lot better at it every night, practicing by reading every newspaper Elisa gave him, and every mystery book that Matt gave him. But Latin was still and probably always would be completely beyond him, so it was better if he just stayed out of the way and let her work. But he was sure that even though they were physically apart right now, she was loving him, just like he was loving her.

But poor Martha, over at the stove lackadaisically stirring a pot of gumbo, was another story. Tonight, she really didn't have anybody. Of the three single guys that had come down from New York (Broadway didn't count himself; his heart was already spoken for), Lexington had already pretty much decided on Rebecca. They'd been together nearly every minute since the evening of the fais do-do, when Lex and Rebecca had found out they actually knew each other already, as "Braveheart" and "LadyHawke". They were always talking and laughing, and holding hands and twining tails; showing every sign of fast-growing affection and attraction. Lex would probably ask Goliath to conduct a mating ceremony for them, some time after Goliath was finished with his and Elisa's "second honeymoon".

Even Hudson had apparently found himself a potential mate already, from what Broadway had seen just before dawn that morning; he'd been holding hands and twining tails with Ursula, an older female who'd been widowed years ago. And just moments before the sun rose, Hudson had actually leaned over and given her a human-style kiss on the cheek! And Ursula had giggled like a female half her age… so far as Broadway knew, they'd gone to their stone slumber still holding hands and tails.

Brooklyn was the only one of the three who hadn't plainly decided on somebody already, but tonight he was going into the city on a date with Marie. And as Brooklyn had quietly confided to Broadway just before dawn, he was really more interested in two of Martha's other rookery sisters, Yvette and Isabel. So for this Saturday night, when it came to romance, Martha really "ain't got nobody."

Broadway really felt sympathy for Martha; he knew what it was like to be alone and feel unwanted by the opposite sex. Back in the old time, before the massacre, Brooklyn had been making courtship gestures with at least three different females at one time or another; not overly serious about any of them yet, but as interested in the ladies as they were clearly interested in him. While Broadway hadn't been able to get a female to even go on a glide with him, unless it was for patrol duties.

He said as much to Martha, as she was showing him how to make the basic stock for most varieties of gumbo, the not-quite-stew that was traditional fare down here. "Then when Angela joined the clan, everybody wanted her to choose one of us, and for a while there I was sure she'd choose Brooklyn instead of me. But now… you could say we're sort-of engaged! She's already told me she'll choose me!"

(And he firmly told that voice in the back of his skull to shut up and go away; the little voice reminding him that the mating ceremony was contingent on his losing weight. She'd said she wanted him to lose enough weight that they'd be sure he could catch her on the breeding flights. And right now, with his left wing so horribly scarred and so weak he could barely fly at all…)

"That's good, that you have that assurance already," Martha said with a wistful smile. "If you don't mind my asking… you said that for a while you were sure she was going to choose Brooklyn. What did you do to help her consider you instead?"

Broadway paused. Even if he did tell her about the turning point, or what he was pretty sure was the turning point… what were the odds that she could make the same thing happen for her?

There was absolutely no chance at all. No chance that Martha's clan would suddenly encounter a creature like Coldstone, with more than one spirit trapped inside his cyborg body, as well as a meddling Fey that would do the spell to transfer the spirits to other mortal shells. Spirits that, like Coldstone and Coldfire had done while housed inside Broadway and Angela, would then take near-full advantage of the opportunity for "pleasures of the flesh", unwittingly teaching their hosts a lot about giving and receiving sexual pleasure in the process. And even if people like that did suddenly appear out of the night sky, there was absolutely no way Brooklyn would agree to house somebody else's spirit again; not after the way Coldsteel had brutally used him to attack the rest of the clan. So what would be the point of telling her?

"I just kept showing interest, kept doing little nice things for Angela, like baking her brownies and finding new books for her to read," he told Martha instead. "And I never tried to be somebody I'm not, because I knew that if she fell in love with some kind of false image I'd given her, we'd both end up miserable. So that's the best advice I can give you; show interest, do little things to show him you care, but always be yourself."

Martha sighed. "That's just what Ursula told me, back when I was hoping Adelbert would choose me… but he ultimately chose Joan."

"Well… some pairings are just meant to be, and some aren't. And even pairings that are meant to be, two people obviously made for each other right from the start, don't always have an easy time of it. Take Goliath and Elisa, for example. They may be different species, but Elisa is pure gargoyle at heart, and it didn't take long for everyone to realize that and to realize that she and Goliath were made to soar together. But it took them over two years to finally admit it to each other, and officially become mates. And even Angela and I have had our rough spots…"

But Broadway was saved from having to talk about those same rough spots, when someone outside the kitchen called in, "Martha, you home?"

Martha brightened, and she replied by calling out, "Of course I am! Come on in, Richard!"

A human male in his mid-twenties, with caramel-colored skin, dreadlocked hair and a big smile, came into the kitchen with a cardboard box under his arm. "Got the galley proofs; they came in today's mail! Oh, hey, didn't know you had company! Broadway, right? I'm Richard Dubois; I was out here for the big welcome/Thanksgiving dinner, but I spend most of my time in town."

"Richard is my closest human friend, practically a rookery brother," Martha told Broadway with a smile. "He works for a private investigating firm; 'Oglethorpe and Pratt'."

"Which, starting next year, is going to be 'Oglethorpe, Pratt and Dubois'," Richard said with a grin.

"They're making you a partner? That's great!" Martha gave Richard a big hug.

"Oglethorpe gave me the news this morning," Richard said with a grin. "And it's all thanks to you, Martin and Cecilia; with your help, I'm closing out twice as many cases as anyone else!" He explained to Broadway with a wink, "Some folks are just better than others at aerial surveillance and nighttime stakeouts."

Martha added, "A few of us go into town from time to time, to help him out on some of his assigned cases. And then Richard helps me out with my writing! I couldn't do it without him."

"Eh, I just help you with a few details about stuff that happens in daytime and inside a PI firm, and talk to the editor for you," Richard said with a shrug as he set the box on a table and lifted the flaps. "The rest of it's all your work."

"What work?" Broadway asked, completely confused. "What's this about writing?"

"What, didn't I tell you about it already?" Martha looked at him in surprise, then looked rueful. "I guess I didn't; I've been all wrapped up in Brooklyn and the competition."

"Hey, how's that working out for you?" Richard asked with concern on his features, looking up at Martha as he finished opening the box. Broadway could see two large soft-covered books inside the box, and when he cocked his head just a bit, he could make out the title and author's name:

Sweet Lies by Martha Dubois.

"Sweet Lies!" Forgetting all his manners, Broadway plunged his hands into the box and pulled out the book on top. He cradled it in his hands almost reverently as he breathed, "The next in the series…" Then he looked at Martha and Richard with eyes the size of saucers. "You're Martha Dubois!"

"Well… she's Martha, and I'm a Dubois," Richard said with a shrug and a faintly concerned look; he traded a glance with Martha that said he hadn't been expecting that strong a reaction.

"Y-you wrote 'Gumshoe Gumbo'! And 'A Dish to Die For'! And 'A Taste For Mayhem'! Matt Bluestone and I have copies of all of your books!" Broadway exclaimed.

That's when Richard grinned in understanding. "Martha… I do believe you are finally meeting one of your fans!"

"Oh, yeah, I'm a fan!" Broadway said fervently. "I even wrote you a letter last spring, to say how much I enjoyed your books!"

"You wrote…" And now it was Martha's turn to gape in astonishment. "Sweet Jesus, you're that Broadway!" She grabbed Richard's arm as she said, "Remember that letter? Where we thought someone was doing a 'Dear Abby' and using his location for a signature, instead of his name?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah, I remember that one! Do you still have it?" Richard asked.

"I sure do; I keep all the fan mail, in a file at my writing desk..."

Ten minutes later, Martha opened a three-ring binder and flipped past several papers that were covered in plastic "page protectors", until she found the paper she was looking for. With an embarrassed smile, she held it out so Broadway could see his own handwriting, a letter he'd written nearly eight months ago:

Deer Miss Dubois,

Hello! I am writing to say that I really like your books and I think you are a good writer and a great cook. "A Dish to Die For" is the best book I have ever read. My favorite part is when Herbert is cornered in the wear house and Irmina saves him with the cooking oil. My favorite dish is the oyster stew. I made it just like your recipe said, and it is really tasty. I hope you write more books soon.

Sincerely,

Broadway

in Manhattan

Rereading the words he'd written last spring, Broadway blushed. He'd misspelled 'dear'! And 'warehouse'! Gee, what Martha must think of him now…

"I think this is my favorite piece of fan mail," Martha said with a fond smile. "I could tell immediately that someone had gone to a fair amount of trouble, just to tell me how much they liked what I had written."

"Well, it wasn't that much trouble; Matt loaned me his stationery, and gave me a stamp for the envelope," Broadway said as he rubbed his neck and looked at his toe-talons. He absolutely would not admit that he'd written that letter three times, and crumpled up the first two drafts after Lexington said his handwriting was still too much of a scrawl for strangers to understand. And why hadn't Lexington said something about the misused words, huh? A real pal sometimes, his rookery brother…

Martha gave him a shy smile. "So, what did you think of 'A Taste for Mayhem'?"

"Oh, that was even better than the last!" Matt had given Broadway a copy of the book the night after the mutates had gotten married in the Labyrinth, and Broadway had stayed on his perch all night to read it from cover to cover. He'd been having so much fun reading, he almost hadn't gotten anything to eat that night! He told Martha and Richard, "I wanted to write you a letter about that one too, but life's been so crazy lately that I just haven't had time. But I just about fell off my perch from laughing, when Herbert got cornered on the docks, and all he could find for weapons was that pile of shrimp straight off the shrimp boat! And then there was Irmina's meeting with the mayor in that bordello, wearing that chicken outfit…"

Richard solemnly raised his hand as he said, "Based on a true story; my hand to God! Except it wasn't the mayor, but a council member. And he swore up and down that he was dressed as a red-tailed hawk, even if he looked to me like a big brown chicken!"

Everyone burst out laughing… and Broadway was still chuckling fifteen minutes later, when he made a phone call to New York. "Hey, Matt! Just wanted to call you to let you know we're all having a great time down here in New Orleans. And to let you know that when we come back, I'll be carrying a full set of books for the 'Gumshoe Gumbo' series, including a galley proof for the next one due out in the spring! And all of them personally autographed by the author…"

To be continued…