So MANY revelations in such a small amount of time...

I don’t reveal anything, “I agree she has been through a lot. Her aunt is helping her cope; I am in town to visit her aunt. She, asked me to accompany her. It’s as simple as that.” I smile hoping to squelch this.

“Yeah, right, her aunt?” Frankie has clearly had enough champagne, “ I’ve known Babe my whole life and I don’t know this woman.” She pauses and looks deeper into my eyes, leaning to do so. “You’re not gay. Don’t think I don’t know.” She is pointing at me and shaking her head as she walks away.

Babet closes in on me, “What was that?” Her tone is humorously worried.

“Nothing.” I say smiling. “Are you ready to go?”

She sighs, “Yes, I already said good-bye to Molly and Wade. Frankie and Marcus are going to a bar after this, I told her I was leaving then. I just got…” She sighs again, “...caught up.”

She is emotionally and visibly exhausted, “Is everything okay?” I ask.

“Yes. And no. Braxton Mimieux was there, he grabbed me; said his dad has been trying to call me and of course when I look at my cell, I have four missed calls from his father. I feel like an idiot, here I am traipsing around New Orleans with you when I should be sitting on my cell waiting to hear from him.”

I am confused by so much, “First, who is Braxton Mimieux?”

“He’s the Fire Marshal’s son, we went to school together.”

The elevator finally arrives and we enter, she presses the button for Molly’s floor. I reach over to stop the dangling cage after it begins to move down.

“What are you doing?” She asks her eyes green and wide.

“What did he say?” We are face to face, eye to eye.

“Braxton said his dad has been trying to get up with me to give me his report on the fire at Scarlet Henri.” She is trying to read me for something.

“Did Braxton’s father happen to tell his son what the report said?” My tone seems aggravated.

She isn’t taken aback as if she has become accustomed to my mercurial nature, “Yes.” I wait patiently for her to continue but she is fidgeting with her fingers, “It wasn’t faulty wiring.” She says peeking up at me through lacquered lashes. I feel my face turn hard and so does she, “But he’s putting it in his report anyway. Insurance and all.”

“Wouldn’t he be falsifying the documentation?”

She takes a deep breath, “Thomas Mimieux and my father were best friends. They were volunteer firemen together before Tom became Marshal and my father….he is doing it to help me. My father had a big insurance policy on that building, Tom knows it will help me…” she pauses and I feel shame and regret rush through her.

“I know,” I grab her and pull her to me, she releases breathy sobs into my chest, the warm air from her mouth seeps through my shirt to my cold skin and I feel an electricity between us. I reach over and start the elevator again. The doors open on the third floor and standing in front of them is Frankie and Marcus. Who is as talkative as he was the first night I saw the small group of friends. I drop my arms around Babet and Frankie looks to us both before saying, “Uh-huh.” We exit and Marcus enters releasing Frankie’s tiny engulfed hand. She stands idle until we pass her by; she grabs Babet and kisses her cheek all the while keeping close eye on me.

“Frankie!” Marcus calls and his wife obediently enters the elevator.

The doors close and we are standing in front of Molly’s apartment. We enter and it’s much more disheveled than when we first arrived. I wait while Babet descends the staircase, returning with fast asleep Henri and groggy Scarlet. We are silent in the elevator and in the car.

We arrive back at Audubon and like a zombie Scarlet heads upstairs, her mother close behind her. Babet returns, having changed out of her party attire. The thin pair of pajama pants hang off her frame and the flimsy tank top doesn’t leave a lot to the imagination and I realize these are the clothes I met her in. Face to face, eye to eye. I detect a slight hint of smoke when she plops down on the couch beside me; the fire still resonating in the fabric.

She must be tossing her thoughts around, because she blurts out, “I will call Tom in the morning. I can meet up with him and get a copy of the report for the insurance adjuster.”

I nod, “Please don’t feel like you have to stay up and entertain me Babet. I know you’re tired.”

Her brow furrows and at the moment I can’t discern her emotions, “I want to talk about tonight.”

I try to keep the conversation lighthearted, “You’re friends are nice, I truly enjoyed meeting Molly…and Frankie.”

She scoffs and laughs, “Yeah, I’m sure I’ll be read the riot act tomorrow sometime…but that’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

I take a deep breath but she doesn’t allow me to begin, “I loved ...I love my husband and I miss him…I feel…but there is something about you, specifically, I can’t...whatever. I think of nothing all day but what’s happened and how I can pick up the pieces for me and my kids. I stress and I…I cry. Until you arrive. It all goes away.” I am utterly ecstatic at this revelation but I can feel there is more to come.

“I’m ashamed at how easily I forget the disappearance of my husband, the burning of my studio and the placement with complete yet astonishing strangers. Beautiful strangers. The dreams are too much to take sometimes but at the same time I feel…I feel like I am supposed to be here, with you.” She is chagrin but in her eyes I see something else, almost a flicker of confidence, like this is something she has wanted to say for a sometime.

I decide to divulge my deepest secret where Babet is concerned, “Aye,” I say and look deep into her, “I too feel it.”

Relief befalls her and I smile at the ease of her emotions but she is still pondering something, “You know you can stay downstairs if you want. Estella says it’s light tight even though your Queen has never stayed down there. I haven’t been down there. Honestly I’m kind of scared to go down there.” She says and laughs at her own ridiculousness.

“Would you like me to go down there with you?” I ask, teasing her.

She swats me and rolls her eyes, “No. I don’t need to go down there anyway. Thank God for the laundry facilities being upstairs. That is awesome, next house I buy I want my washer and dryer upstairs. Hmm?”

“Hmm?” I mirror her.

“I was just thinking about that, where to look for a new place. I like this townhouse and I’m sure I could find an open unit.” She laughs due to all the for sale signs in the neighborhood.

“Aye.” We both enjoy the joke and the easy turn the night has made, but I didn’t want to be rude and keep her waiting for an answer to her offer, “I appreciate your offer, my warehouse isn’t far, besides I don’t know how Estella, or the Queen for that matter would feel about me staying here during the day.”

Disappointment flows over her, “Oh, okay. Well, Estella said the Queen said it was her call, Estella said it was mine and I am offering if you are interested.” She says this very matter-of-factly.

Oh, Babet. If you only knew how truly interested I am, “I see, well…for tonight I will respectfully decline but if you will…allow me, tomorrow night?” I’m warily awaiting her reply.

“Sure. Tomorrow.” She is short with me as she rises from the couch, “You’re right, I am tired.” She turns to take the stairs, “See you tomorrow, and hey; feel free to come in from now on. You don’t need to knock.” She half smiles and I watch her until she is gone.

http://www.amazon.com/Revelations-Cia...