Red Beans and Vice by Lou Jane Temple Page B

people think we’re divorced. Jimmy’s been gone from New Orleans for two years now. He was considerably younger than I was.”
    “Where is he?”
    “I wish I knew. I sent him money about three months after he left. He was in San Diego then. I haven’t heard since. Don’t know if he’s dead or alive.”
    “I know this is nosy,” Heaven said, “but was the amount of money you sent enough to tide him over for a year and a half? Maybe you’ll hear from him when he needs more.”
    Nancy laughed. “I’m not that generous, Heaven. Even if he invested wisely, he’s been out of money for a year. After all, I wanted him to come back at that time. I wouldn’t give him enough rope to go and hang me with.”
    “And now? Do you still want him to come back?”
    “I could say no and mean it right this minute, but if he was to come through that door, I don’t have a clue what I’d do; fire my revolver at his pretty head or kiss him.”
    Now it was Heaven who laughed and decided it was time to change the subject. Digging around in an old woman’s love life was a little too intimate. “Let’s talk about the sisters for a minute. After our lunch at Antoine’s, I went over to the convent again and that’s when the termite incident happened. The next day I went to the television station and talked to Amelia Hart. Aside from making her mad by mentioning the fact that her aunt, the servant of slaves, owned one herself, I accomplished little. What about you?”
    “I have considerable connections with the antique dealers around here. I’m one of their biggest customers. So I put out the word about the cross, not thatthe police hadn’t done that, but I just thought I might have better luck.” She paused, as if considering what to say next.
    “Because you’ve been known to buy stolen goods?” Heaven asked, trying to keep any sense of judgment out of her voice.
    “Buy ’em, sell ’em, hell, I’ve even done the stealing on occasion,” Nancy said with good humor. She was relieved Heaven wasn’t some Goody Two-shoes.
    “Nancy, I’ve got a problem back in Kansas City and I want to talk to you about it.” Heaven was surprised that she felt like bringing up the letters. Something about this older woman made her feel safe. Maybe it was because her own mother had been dead for so many years. Maybe she missed having an older woman to talk to. She shifted uncomfortably in her own skin. Her mother had been a farm woman in Kansas. She would not appreciate having her daughter choose a surrogate mother who was a former madam in New Orleans. “But first, give me your honest opinion, Nancy. Do you think we’re out of the woods with this big dinner? Do you think whoever stole the cross and stuff is done?”
    “I wouldn’t think so, honey. Why would you shoot your wad on a committee meeting of old girls when you could have four or five hundred of the city’s best Catholics in your grasp? There’s more to come, I believe.”
    “That’s what I think, too.”
    “Now tell me about your problem in Kansas City, Heaven,” Nancy said as she signaled for the check.
    As they finished their coffee, Heaven told her about the unsigned letter and how it had rocked her foundation, how she didn’t know how to fight this.
    She felt better. No matter if Mamma O’Malley wouldshake her head and purse her lips up in heaven, she liked this old lady.
    Heaven paid this time.
    Nancy, who had been quiet while Heaven poured out her heart, asking a few questions but basically just letting the younger woman talk, took Heaven’s arm for help getting up and then gave it a little squeeze as they left the table. “If we ever find out who wrote that, they better watch out. Your enemies are my enemies now, child,” she said.
    Sometimes unconditional support is better than logic.
    H eaven called Mary at the office. “I know I said I wanted to stay here in the Quarter, but can I still see you?”
    “Actually, I was going to call you. How about dinner?