Mardi Gras Madness Read online

  Roxy dove into her purse for her phone remembering that she hadn’t yet read his text message. Her heart hammered.

  Bye, Roxy. I’m moving in with my new girlfriend. Thanks for the fun times.

  Roxy, too stunned to cry anymore, collapsed on the bed and stared at the ceiling feeling like it might just fall on top of her. At the rate things were going, she honestly wouldn’t be surprised.

  CHAPTER THREE

  ROXY DIDN’T GET dinner. She didn’t even change out of her work clothes. Usually, the first thing she’d do when she got in was shower, slip into some clean pajamas and fluffy cat slippers that looked quite like Nefertiti, and pad around the apartment for the rest of the evening.

  But today, Roxy simply crashed onto the bed and fell asleep fully clothed, with Nefertiti curled up beside her.

  Ten hours later—as if it were the next moment—Roxy woke up in the same position that she had collapsed into the previous night. For a glorious moment or two, she enjoyed the golden morning sunlight streaming through the blinds and the feeling of wellbeing that her good, long sleep had given her, but then reality came crashing down. Ryan wasn’t there. Ryan wasn’t in her life. And she didn’t even know if she had a job to go to.

  Her mind started running. Would she have to dip into her savings? She could barely afford this apartment on her own with her job, let alone without it. Back when they had first rented it, she’d preferred a far more modest place so she could save even more of her paycheck. But Ryan had picked out this sleek one-bedroom, wooden-floored, white-walled apartment, and she’d have gone along with pretty much anything to make him happy. Now she’d gotten used to it.

  Roxy’s mind continued to race. What if she had lost her job? Where would she live? How would she eat? In her mind’s eye, she could see it all too clearly—her savings spent, her car sold, the money from that spent too. Next she’d be destitute, on the street, cold and dirty with no one to care for or about her. Her heart began to beat more quickly.

  But then again, what if Angela did ask her back? What should she do? Sink deeper and deeper into this black hole of misery where her life crumbled to nothingness as Jade and Chloe looked on and laughed? As Angela tormented her day after day? As customers called up to curse at her for their washing machine woes? After all that, she’d come home to an empty apartment where Nefertiti would be the only ray of light in her otherwise dismal existence.

  None of the available options sounded good.

  Nefertiti must have padded out of the room during the night, leaving the bed empty. Roxy rolled over onto her side, feeling thoroughly miserable and having talked herself into a depression as deep as the Grand Canyon. It was at times like these that she wished she had a friend, a true friend, someone who really understood her. Sure, there were a couple of people from school that she messaged on Facebook now and then, and one or two women from her old job that she sometimes went out with on the weekend. But she had no one who she could ugly-cry to on the phone and with whom she could share her woes.

  Eventually, Roxy swallowed back her tears, and with no phone call from Angela forthcoming, she moped around the house. Days like this called for a huge tub of ice cream, but she didn’t have any in the freezer, and the thought of going to the store to buy some seemed to demand the amount of energy required to climb Mount Everest. The idea of seeing anyone felt horrifying.

  Roxy sprawled out on the couch, arranging herself around Nefertiti’s curled-up, white, fluffy softness and flipped through TV stations. There were Lifetime movies and some others she hadn’t heard of, but a Tuesday morning didn’t exactly get top programming. She tried to settle down to watch a Dr. Phil—anything—but neither her mind nor her body would settle, and she felt like launching the remote at the TV set. This was so unlike her that she startled herself.

  Roxy sighed deeply and went to the kitchen. She shoved a six-pack of yogurts from the refrigerator into the freezer hoping that would be an adequate substitute for ice cream. She purposefully walked back out of the kitchen before she leaned against the doorframe. “Oh, what’s the point, Nefertiti?” Roxy said. But she could see from her place at the doorway that even the cat was ignoring her. Nefertiti was sitting bolt upright, staring at the TV.

  “Hey,” Roxy said with her first little smile of the day. Nefertiti looked so human as she sat on the sofa watching television, it made Roxy laugh. “What’s so interesting, Nef?”

  Roxy stepped forward into the living room and turned to look at the screen.

  “Oh…,” she said. She watched the bright colors of a carnival flash up. The weirdest feeling overcame her—a feeling she’d never had before. She sat down beside Nefertiti; her eyes now glued to the screen. “Oh…,” she said again. It was like she was watching something she’d seen or been a part of before, almost like nostalgia for something she’d never really known but knew about instinctively.

  Roxy watched as carnival dancers spun and flashed their bright costumes, revelers packing the streets. She watched women in skimpy bright outfits, their bodies painted, twirling and dancing and laughing and looking so carefree. That was one thing Roxy wished she could be, carefree.

  “Taste real life,” a woman’s voiceover on the commercial said. “Taste real culture. Taste Mardi Gras in New Orleans. We’re waiting for you.” The pounding sound of drums in the background matched the pounding of Roxy’s heart.

  Once the commercial had ended and an ad for some kind of drug had started, Roxy let out a little breath like she’d been dancing among the bright colors and booming drums. “Well,” she breathed, looking at Nefertiti. She trailed off not quite knowing what to say. How could you explain that feeling? And why had Nefertiti been so interested? The fluffy cat sat back down again and curled up on the couch. Sinking back into her sleepy zone, she purred just a little.

  Roxy felt baffled and, all of a sudden, not depressed at all.

  She began tickling Nefertiti under her chin, and before she could stop it, a new, slightly scandalous idea was forming in her head.

  “No, you couldn’t possibly,” Roxy said to herself out loud. But a huge smile was spreading over her face. “Not sensible Roxy. She’d never do that.” But talking the idea down only served to make a new rebellious streak in her gain strength. She got up feeling like a new person, full of energy, and sauntered over to the bedroom to get her laptop.

  “All right,” Roxy said, mentally preparing herself for what lay ahead. She threaded her fingers together and pushed her palms out in a stretch. She bobbed her head from side to side like a boxer preparing to enter the ring. “Okay.” Butterflies danced in her stomach, but it felt thrilling rather than nerve-wracking. “I’m going to do this.”

  She placed her fingertips on the keyboard, typed a few words, and pressed “Return.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  “HAVE I COMPLETELY and utterly lost my mind?” Roxy said to Nefertiti. She almost couldn’t believe what she was doing. She had nearly had a panic attack when she realized that she was eating into her savings for the first time ever. The bus she was traveling in had been at a service station at the time. Now, Roxy poked her finger into Nefertiti’s travel box, trying unsuccessfully to stroke her. “Have I gone totally crazy?”

  The middle-aged lady across the aisle from Roxy clearly thought so by the look she shot her, though in fairness that was probably because Roxy had prattled on to Nefertiti constantly about all kinds of nonsense for the past three hours.

  For her part, Roxy couldn’t believe that she was now over 800 miles away from her home state of Ohio. She hadn’t ever been that far before. The furthest she’d ventured was to visit some of Ryan’s family in the Chicago suburbs.

  That had been an uncomfortable visit. It was the first time she’d met Ryan’s mom, who kept calling him, “My little Ry-Ry,” waiting on him hand and foot, and undermining Roxy at every opportunity. She had made snide little “jokes” about her son’s girlfriend, and Ryan had laughed along.

  Roxy drifted into silence as she
stared out the window as Alabama raced by. Her heart hurt a little. Life had changed so quickly. She thought she had been so happy—with Ryan, with her job, with her cozy little life, with her cute apartment that she’d now given notice on, and with her little rusty car that she’d sold just before she left. All of the money went into her savings account, of course. But had she really been satisfied and content with her life? The overwhelming feeling Roxy got as she whizzed down the country to the South was No, she had not! She felt free now in a way she never had before. Her tension was easing. Her disappointing memories were disappearing in the rearview mirror of the bus. She was breaking into smiles more easily, and she alternately tapped her feet as she managed her pent-up energy. Roxy had been gone for fewer than 18 hours.

  Perhaps leaving it all behind for a while wasn’t going to be as hard as she thought. In a month she’d have to find somewhere to live and somewhere to work. Her new life wouldn’t be one long Mardi Gras, but that was okay. When Roxy’s pessimistic thoughts threatened to break through her excitement, she calmed herself with a lot of soothing self-talk, letting herself know it was fine to dip into her savings. That’s what they were for—to give her just the right amount of freedom she needed to explore. She settled back in her seat and let out a long breath. Things were going to be fine. They were, weren’t they?

  Roxy drifted off to sleep at some point. She was awakened when the bus driver spotted a stop sign at the last minute and screeched to a halt. She blinked blurrily and looked out the window. They were in New Orleans already? She was about to turn to the woman across the aisle and ask, but then she spotted a sign that said “Craving Cajun?” She couldn’t wait to try the food. While her frame was petite, Roxy had a deceptively large appetite and enjoyed cuisine from around the world in rather large amounts.

  That was one thing she could thank Ryan for—introducing her to international food. Along with Mexican, Chinese, Italian, and Indian fare, they’d also adventured into less-explored culinary territory. They’d tried Indonesian, Jamaican, and Polish food, and they loved a good Ethiopian meal from time to time.

  “Stop thinking about him,” Roxy whispered to herself. “This is your new life—not his! Not yours to share, but yours alone.” She was both extremely nervous and extremely exhilarated. She felt a buzzing sensation travel through her body.

  She couldn’t wait to hop off the bus and locate the hotel where she was staying for the next month. That would be the beginning of her new life.

  Roxy strolled down the New Orleans streets, pulling her case with one hand and holding Nefertiti’s travel box in the other. She sort of knew where she was going, but she was enjoying the scenery and didn’t mind too much that she was meandering a little. The sun was shining down, and Roxy felt sunny and optimistic.

  She figured that she couldn’t miss the guesthouse she was looking for. The pictures she’d seen made it look idyllic and so bright that she expected to squint. The flamingo pink frontage of the small hotel was what had attracted her, and when she found that they did accept pets, she knew that it was the perfect place for her stay. The price was very reasonable, too, and they offered a hefty discount for month-long visits. Perfect.

  Eventually though, Roxy stopped a sympathetic-looking woman in the street and asked her, “Do you know where Evangeline’s guesthouse is?”

  The woman’s eyes flashed wide for a moment before she fixed her face into a smile. “Sure thing, sugar. You just go into the alleyway off this street, and it’s a little way down there. You see it?” She pointed.

  “Oh, sure, great,” Roxy said.

  The woman looked her over, her eyes curious. Roxy paused for a moment, wondering if she was violating any kind of local custom or unspoken rule. Perhaps her northern manners weren’t up to snuff for those in the South. “Thank you, ma’am,” she added, feeling a little uncomfortable but hoping she was saying the right thing.

  “You’re most welcome. Take care now.”

  Roxy followed the woman’s directions and turned into a little alleyway. It was a very narrow cobblestone street, so narrow that only a small vehicle could have traveled down it. At the other end, there was an ivy-covered brick wall. Set within that was a tall, wrought iron gate beyond which she saw gravestones. Halfway down the alleyway, placed outside a café from which the most beautiful, sweet, pastry-baking smell was pouring, were set some tables and chairs. However, her attention was quickly snatched away by the building that faced them.

  The sky above it was a deep, deep blue just as the website had promised, and Evangeline’s was indeed where it was supposed to be, nestled among a huddle of old wooden buildings. The narrow three-story structure was pink as the photographs had shown, but that was where reality collided with Roxy’s expectations. It was like a truck hitting a brick wall.

  The pictures Roxy had seen must have been taken years and years ago. Now the paint was patchy—baby pink in some places, salmon in others, and almost white at the very top where it caught the most sun. Some of the wooden trim boards had black streaks running through them and were half rotted away. There was a little balcony on the third floor that looked like it would collapse at any minute, and while the windows were clean, one of them had a massive crack across it. Even the courtyard out front was a scrub of weeds. Roxy would have assumed it was abandoned if many of the windows hadn’t been open.

  Roxy gulped. What on earth had she done?

  “Okay, Nefertiti. Here’s home for the next month.” She tried to sound cheerful, but she had a horrible sinking feeling like her stomach was collapsing in on itself. Still, she thrust her head up and threw her shoulders back. There was no way she’d cry or break down or even doubt herself. She’d prove she wasn’t boring. She’d prove she wasn’t a pushover. She’d prove she wasn’t afraid of anything. She’d prove she was adventurous, exciting Roxy, fully in control of her fabulous, fun, new life.

  Roxy lugged her case over to the narrow weed-surrounded doorway and looked around for a doorbell. There wasn’t one, so she knocked, plastering a smile on her face for whoever would greet her and waited for something to happen. No one came, so she knocked again, more forcibly this time. The door opened with a long creak. Roxy peered inside.

  In the hallway, she could see some rather grand-looking pieces of furniture, a large armchair, an armoire, and a huge mirror. They appeared to be antiques. An ornate wooden staircase with a worn carpet led upward and around a corner. On the wall, there was even a gilt-framed portrait of a young woman with blonde flowing hair wearing a hat and an old-fashioned, floral, frilly dress. There, though, the potential grandeur of the hallway ended.

  The antique furniture was rendered incongruous next to a cheap-looking laminate front desk, and under a strip light that was far too bright to be comfortable, their shabbiness was laid bare. Grey cobwebby masses darkened the high white wooden ceiling, and Roxy spied a long-legged spider making its slow descent down the wall behind the unmanned desk. It was all very strange.

  Just then, a woman walked across the hallway and toward the staircase. She didn’t notice Roxy, who watched her closely. Her dark hair was piled up into a messy bun at the back of her head, and she wore a lime green jogging suit and bright white sneakers. Roxy estimated the woman to be in her mid-forties and might have guessed that she was an avid runner but for the little extra weight she carried around her middle and the full face of makeup she had on. Still slightly stunned by the situation, Roxy didn’t gather herself to speak, even as the woman began to jog up the stairs.

  “Meeeooow,” said Nefertiti.

  At the sound, the woman swung around and put one hand to her chest in shock, gasping and leaning forward before unfurling herself and laughing when she saw Roxy. “My goodness, you gave me a scare,” she said. She came jogging back down the stairs.

  “Sorry,” Roxy said with a smile, glad for an opening to start a conversation. “This is Nefertiti. My cat. She can be quite vocal at times.”

  “I love cats,” the woman said. “I used t
o have two. Not anymore, I’m afraid.”

  She didn’t elaborate.

  “Oh, right,” Roxy said. “So…are you…I’m…I’m meant to be staying here…I mean to say, I’m arriving.”

  The woman laughed at her but not unkindly. “They give a good welcome at this place, don’t they?”

  “Umm…,” Roxy didn’t quite know what to say. “So…you don’t work here?”

  “Oh, no,” said the woman. “I’m a guest, too.”

  “Oh, right. Are you staying for Mardi Gras?”

  The woman laughed again, but this time with a little bitterness. “For Mardi Gras and then some. I’m not quite sure what I’m doing next.”

  “Me either,” said Roxy, her shoulders relaxing. “I have a month booked, with nowhere to go at the end of it.”

  The woman’s eyes brightened perceptibly. “Well, then, we’re in the same boat, aren’t we?” She gave Roxy a conspiratorial grin. “Man trouble. Am I right?”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  “YOU ARE,” ROXY said with a humorless chuckle before she could stop herself. She didn’t normally share intimacies this quickly, if at all, but being alone in a new city seemed to have changed her.

  The woman sighed dramatically. “Me too. I thought I had my life all figured out in New Jersey, but then my husband, well…let’s say he found being faithful too taxing, and I found out about it. Stormed out that night with a suitcase, I did, and well, here I am!”

  She looked genuinely happy about it.

  “Yeah, my boyfriend wasn’t exactly Prince Charming either,” Roxy said.

  “Oh well, what man is really?” the woman said. “I’m Louise, by the way.”