Page 16 of January
“We’re not jumpingintothe swamp,” her sister replied, walking out of the small bathroom.
They’d gotten a room on a deal at the last minute in a small, boutique French Quarter hotel, which meant the room was equally small, as was the bathroom. It had a tiny sink that was nearly on top of the toilet and only a stall-style shower. The bedroom had two full beds instead of the more common queens, and the TV was tinier than Kyle’s laptop screen and clung to the wall with one of those mounts that she could pull out and swivel. Other than that, there was only a wall-mounted table between the two beds where a lamp and an old-style hotel stationary rested, and a desk was in the corner along with the chair that went with it. The building itself had been here since the eighteen-hundreds, which meant it was solid stone, so they’d been relatively protected from the partying that had occurred just down the street from them the previous night and well into the morning. Kyle found that she liked the place and was impressed that they’d managed to find it.
“Kyle, I know you want to go check out the house and figure out this whole lawyer thing, but last night, you said–”
“You’re right. Sorry. I was only half-paying attention to you, to be honest. I was looking up Mr.Beaufort when you asked. I should’ve said no, but it’s whatever now. Let’s just go.”
“A little more enthusiasm might be nice,” Jolie noted, slipping on her own shoes after sitting down on her bed. “And what do you wear to a swamp boat tour? It’s warm,not hot, but we’ll be on a boat, so it’ll be breezy, and there’s water, so it could be cold. Is the breeze off a swamp hot or cold air?”
“I think you’re getting this wrong. We’re not going on a yacht. It’s a swamp. Bring a sweater and tie it around your waist.”
“Gross, Ky. What if I see a cute guy there?”
“On a swamp boat tour?” Kyle replied, standing up and stretching.
“It’s for tourists like us. Why not?”
“Just grab a sweater and put it in your backpack, then.”
“I’m not bringing mine. I thought you could bring yours, and I could toss my stuff in there.”
“What? Why? You have a back. Use it.”
“Ky, if there’s a guy there, I don’t want to be wearing a bulky backpack. I have a purse.”
“God, straight people… You’re exhausting,” she joked.
“You are literally wearing a short-sleeved flannel shirt right now, a pair of jeans, and white tennis shoes. You want to take that back, picture of lesbian perfection?”
Kyle laughed and looked down at her shoes.
“Yeah… You didn’t think that through, did you?” Jolie asked. “White shoes, busy streets, swamps.”
“I only brought these and some sandals,” Kyle replied. “They’re new, but not brand-new, so I guess they’ll just come home with some scuff marks.”
“And likely, vomit,” her sister pointed out. “Or, at least, booze all over them.”
“You’re really selling me on going out with you tonight, aren’t you?” Kyle picked up her backpack off the floor and threw it over her shoulders. “Okay. Throw your crap in here, and let’s go.”
“You’re the best sister,” Jolie teased.
Minutes later, they were in the hotel lobby, where Kyle found a carafe of free coffee for guests.
“I don’t know how you drink that stuff,” Jolie scoffed as Kyle poured herself a cup.
“I was up late, so I’m tired. Plus, I need caffeine to get me through the day with you.”
After taking her first sip and burning her tongue, Kyle felt more than awake. Then, when they walked outside, she breathed in the light stench of garbage mixed with rancid beer. It wasn’t the best way to wake up, but she was hopeful that once they got out of the Quarter, the air in New Orleans would be better. Earlier, they’d decided that since they had some time before their tour, they’d find a restaurant and have a big breakfast. Walking until they found one that looked like it fit the bill, they headed inside and were sat immediately.
“Nice. Everyone partied last night, so we’re the only ones up right now,” Kyle said when they sat down at the blue table in the corner of the small restaurant.
After slathering her French toast in more maple syrup than was necessary, Kyle dug in and was grateful. The food in this city was amazing. She was certain the food from the bar last night had been the best dive bar food she’d ever eaten in her life. They served house-made jalapeño cornbread that tasted like it had just come out of a cast iron pan that the city’s very own grandmother had put it into hours before. The eggs, which she’d ordered alongside her French toast because she’d been feeling a little like this was supposed to be a vacation, tasted light and fluffy and just spicy enough with the Tabasco sauce they had on the table.
After breakfast, they walked out of the Quarter to get rid of some of those calories and found Canal Street. Where the Quarter’s streets were just wide enough for the crowds of people and maze-like, Canal Street was a wide road with palm trees in the middle running up and down it. There was music coming from several shops that appeared to be much bigger than the ones in the Quarter, and while some were tourist shops, others were well-recognized names.
“Want to get an iced coffee there?” Jolie pointed at a fast-food chain across the street. “I know I’ll liketheircoffee.”
“You came all the way to New Orleans to go to a chain? We just ate breakfast,” Kyle replied.