it"
' ' know, I know, but nobody in my family gets divorced.
I'd be the first one in my direct lineage."
"Did all the others put up with this kind of garbage?"
"I guess. I don't know. I grew up believing that everyone got married
and lived happily ever after. Oh, they might fight and yell and even
break up for a while, but in the end, it all worked out."
"Fairy tales."
"Divorce isn't easy."
"It shouldn't be. Getting married should be harder."
Sarah chuckled.' ', maybe. So how's it going there?" "Not great," Olivia
said, but didn't explain about her vision. Sarah, despite her flirting
with New Age religion, had solid roots in Catholicism. Another lapsed believer, but
one, Olivia sensed, ready to return to the fold. Wasn't she one herself? "It's not going to be as easy as I thought to sell this place." She glanced around her grandmother's cabin with its gleaming wood walls and floors shining with over a hundred years' worth of patina. Tall windows with narrow panes offered a spectacular view of the bayou. The insulation was practically nil, the plumbing and electricity added decades after the original construction and now were outdated and probably dangerous. "I have a lot of work to do before I put it on the market and then I'm not sure I want to. It's been in my family forever."
"So you haven't decided if you're going to stay in New Orleans?"
"I know I'll stick it out until I finish my master's. Then, who knows?"
"Still working for that little store in the square?"
"Part-time. Around school." She leaned a hip against the counter and thought of the eclectic clientele of the Third Eye. Located in a cubbyhole across from Jackson Square, the store boasted an inventory of everything from dried alligator heads to religious artifacts. New Age to voodoo with a smattering of Christianity in between. "How's business in Tucson?"
"Great," Sarah said as if she meant it. "I met with a new artist who's going to display her things in the back nook. Consignment, and I've got a couple new lines of crystal pendants that are selling like crazy. But I miss you.
It's not the same."
"Didn't you hire someone?"
"Oh, yeah. I hired a girl, not a partner. A girl with tattoos on her arms and not just rings in her nose and eyebrows, and wherever else she can find a tiny fold of skin, but safety pins! Can you imagine? She looks like she should be working for a tailor, not a New Age shop."
Olivia laughed. For the first time that morning. "Careful, Sarah, your parochial school roots are beginning to show."
"Forbid the thought."
"The first thing I know, you'll be wearing a plaid skirt, blazer, and knee socks to work."
"Very funny." "I thought so." Olivia glanced at her grandmother's tattered cane rocker at rest near a pot overflowing with the shiny leaves of an ever-growing jade plant.
"Oh, I've got a beep, I'd better go ... "
"Talk to you later," Olivia said, knowing that Sarah was eager to get off the phone and check the other line. Sarah, the eternal optimist, probably thought the caller would be a recalcitrant Leo, tired of the new woman and ready to crawl back on his hands and knees, to beg forgiveness from his loving saint of a wife.
hairy gave off a bark and twirled in tight little circles at the back door. "Wanna go out?" Olivia asked as she swung the door open and the dog scurried outside. Storm clouds gathered on the horizon and the air was sticky with the threat of rain. The dog ran the length of the porch to disappear into a thatch of tall grass and cypress, sniffing the ground searching for squirrels or possum or whatever marsh bird he could scare up.
Olivia's stomach rumbled. It was ten in the morning and she'd been up for seven hours, existing only on coffee and adrenalin. She opened the refrigerator and scowled at the lack of groceries--two eggs, a chunk of cheese, a halfloaf of bread, and a bottle of catsup. "Omelette time," she remarked, as she heard hairy pad inside. "How about you?" She opened the pantry, where
' ' know, I know, but nobody in my family gets divorced.
I'd be the first one in my direct lineage."
"Did all the others put up with this kind of garbage?"
"I guess. I don't know. I grew up believing that everyone got married
and lived happily ever after. Oh, they might fight and yell and even
break up for a while, but in the end, it all worked out."
"Fairy tales."
"Divorce isn't easy."
"It shouldn't be. Getting married should be harder."
Sarah chuckled.' ', maybe. So how's it going there?" "Not great," Olivia
said, but didn't explain about her vision. Sarah, despite her flirting
with New Age religion, had solid roots in Catholicism. Another lapsed believer, but
one, Olivia sensed, ready to return to the fold. Wasn't she one herself? "It's not going to be as easy as I thought to sell this place." She glanced around her grandmother's cabin with its gleaming wood walls and floors shining with over a hundred years' worth of patina. Tall windows with narrow panes offered a spectacular view of the bayou. The insulation was practically nil, the plumbing and electricity added decades after the original construction and now were outdated and probably dangerous. "I have a lot of work to do before I put it on the market and then I'm not sure I want to. It's been in my family forever."
"So you haven't decided if you're going to stay in New Orleans?"
"I know I'll stick it out until I finish my master's. Then, who knows?"
"Still working for that little store in the square?"
"Part-time. Around school." She leaned a hip against the counter and thought of the eclectic clientele of the Third Eye. Located in a cubbyhole across from Jackson Square, the store boasted an inventory of everything from dried alligator heads to religious artifacts. New Age to voodoo with a smattering of Christianity in between. "How's business in Tucson?"
"Great," Sarah said as if she meant it. "I met with a new artist who's going to display her things in the back nook. Consignment, and I've got a couple new lines of crystal pendants that are selling like crazy. But I miss you.
It's not the same."
"Didn't you hire someone?"
"Oh, yeah. I hired a girl, not a partner. A girl with tattoos on her arms and not just rings in her nose and eyebrows, and wherever else she can find a tiny fold of skin, but safety pins! Can you imagine? She looks like she should be working for a tailor, not a New Age shop."
Olivia laughed. For the first time that morning. "Careful, Sarah, your parochial school roots are beginning to show."
"Forbid the thought."
"The first thing I know, you'll be wearing a plaid skirt, blazer, and knee socks to work."
"Very funny." "I thought so." Olivia glanced at her grandmother's tattered cane rocker at rest near a pot overflowing with the shiny leaves of an ever-growing jade plant.
"Oh, I've got a beep, I'd better go ... "
"Talk to you later," Olivia said, knowing that Sarah was eager to get off the phone and check the other line. Sarah, the eternal optimist, probably thought the caller would be a recalcitrant Leo, tired of the new woman and ready to crawl back on his hands and knees, to beg forgiveness from his loving saint of a wife.
hairy gave off a bark and twirled in tight little circles at the back door. "Wanna go out?" Olivia asked as she swung the door open and the dog scurried outside. Storm clouds gathered on the horizon and the air was sticky with the threat of rain. The dog ran the length of the porch to disappear into a thatch of tall grass and cypress, sniffing the ground searching for squirrels or possum or whatever marsh bird he could scare up.
Olivia's stomach rumbled. It was ten in the morning and she'd been up for seven hours, existing only on coffee and adrenalin. She opened the refrigerator and scowled at the lack of groceries--two eggs, a chunk of cheese, a halfloaf of bread, and a bottle of catsup. "Omelette time," she remarked, as she heard hairy pad inside. "How about you?" She opened the pantry, where
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