CHAPTER 16

EARLY AFTERNOON—IT WAS the day after C.J. picked up the passports and other IDs--it was such a broiler outside that he and Amanda sat inside for the air-conditioning, sipping iced coffee at their usual spot, the Cafe du Monde. They both stared outside on the sidewalk where at that moment, the Duck Lady was roller-skating with her pet ducks behind her. She ran smack into a light pole, grabbing it with both arms to keep from going down and Amanda laughed. C.J. didn’t share her amusement. The freak was an embarrassment to the town in his opinion. Once, she’d been the subject of a Mardi Gras poster. Good God, he thought, remembering that; what was on their minds, putting a lunatic like that on a poster for visitors to gawk at and think this was representative of New Orleans? First thing he’d do if he was mayor would be to get rid of her. Put her in a home somewhere. Second thing he’d do is close all those tacky Takee Outees that littered the Quarter. Eyesores. Third thing--

“C.J.,” Amanda was saying, forgetting the Duck Lady and toying with her stirrer, not looking him in the eye. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking. I don’t think it would be a good idea for me to go with you on this Europe thing.”

C.J. St. Ives looked at her in amazement. This response wasn’t in any of the scenarios he’d imagined.

“What’re you saying, sweetheart? I thought you were excited about it. You said...”

“I know what I said.” She pushed her glass away from her and looked up. “I guess it sounded like fun at first, but what happens when we get back?”

C.J. was puzzled. What does she mean?

“I’ll lose my job.”

“Your job? I don’t get it.”

“My job, C.J. You don’t think I can just take off like that and come back and everything’s the way it was? Your wife will have my ass. I won’t only lose my position; she’ll see to it I never work in another bank in Louisiana. Hell, probably the entire country. You know how her family is. With the clout her family holds in this town, I’ll be lucky to be making change at Mickey D’s!”

“Sugar, sugar, I told you not to worry about your job. I’m leaving Sarah. I’m going to marry you. We’ve been through this. Why are you starting this all up again?”

She set her jaw. He knew that look and didn’t like it.

“I know what you say, C.J., but I also know how the world works. That woman has you by the short hairs. You think she’s going to let you walk away and keep on working at the bank? You’re nuts if you think that. No, you go and I’ll keep my job, thank you. That, I can depend on.”

He stared out at the sidewalk. The Duck Lady was gone, replaced by a troop of six or seven black kids with a boom box and a big square of cardboard that they were laying down on the sidewalk in front of the outside tables. That’s the way the yokels from Missouri see us, he thought. Break dancers and Duck Ladies. He felt his lip curl and turned his attention to Amanda.

You little idiot, he thought. You wouldn’t be a teller if it wasn’t for me--they wanted to fire your ass months ago. It won’t be Sarah keeps you from another job, it’ll be your own sorry ineptitude. He didn’t say aloud what he was thinking, but he knew what his face looked like, stony and hard.

He softened. He wanted this woman more than any other woman in his whole life. Hell...he wanted her right this minute. She just needed to listen to reason. He reached for her hand, closed his fingers over hers and squeezed.

“Baby, you don’t have to worry about your job. Trust me on this--you won’t have to worry about anything ever again. I can’t tell you any more than that, only that money is going to be the least of your problems.”

He’d said too much. But, what else could he do? He needed to convince her to come with him. Once she saw the money she’d thank him for taking her. Thank him? She’d fuck his socks off!

“Come on,” he said, helping her up, his hand under her elbow. He’d get her in the sack, give her some good loving. She’d change her mind. He knew what she liked, the way she liked his tongue to move. Nobody eats pussy like you do, C.J., she’d said more than once. He didn’t know quite what to make of that--be proud she’d called him the best or be jealous because she was comparing him to others.

“Where?”

“You know.”

She hesitated, but only for a moment.

In the car she said, “Miss Jane told me your wife called yesterday looking for you.”

“So?” he said, pointing the car for Riverbend and the apartment.

“So, somebody called and asked for me, too, Miss Jane said. The way she said it, I know it was your wife.”

“Baby,” he said, slightly exasperated. “At this point, I don’t care if Sarah comes up and watches us making love. I tell you, I’m divorcing her. It doesn’t matter. You’ll see.”