Jolene nodded her approval and picked up her keys. “Time to open the doors to the shop,” she said.
Looking at Lilly, she asked, “Do you feel like working, or would you like a few days to recover?”
“I want to get back to work, no need moping about,” Lilly said.
~
Tourists, housewives, hustlers and hippies poured into Panthea’s as Mardi Gras day grew closer. The list of clients waiting for appointments with Jolene and Sabine extended through the weekends and late evenings. Evening classes were suspended until after the Mardi Gras vacation.
Throughout the brisk morning business, Lilly rang up purchases and answered questions from curious customers. After lunch, the rush of customers slowed. By late afternoon, Lilly had tidied all the displays in the shop and had time to think.
She suppressed a moan as Roland’s eyes, full lips and gentle touch, filled her mind. She may have read too much into their lovemaking. Had she been foolish? Had she imagined their connection? Her head ached as she berated herself for falling for the first smooth talking musician she met.
An hour later, the bell on the shop door jingled and Roland sauntered in. Lilly’s tight shoulders relaxed and the tense frown between her brows smoothed. She put her hand over her solar plexus and smiled. Roland returned her smile, and casually asked, “Hey sweet lady, how’s it going?”
She couldn’t answer or take her eyes off him. He was more beautiful than she remembered. His gentle dark eyes, long black hair cascading in waves down his back and his sensuous lips mesmerized her. Weak knees forced her to sit quickly on the stool in front of the bookcase. Roland stood close by “Are you okay?” She nodded and felt his fingers beneath her chin, as he leaned over and brushed her lips with his.
Jolene cleared her throat loudly, getting Lilly’s attention. She raised one eyebrow with her “What’s going on?” stare.
Jumping off the stool, Lilly walked over to the counter and quietly said, “It’s Roland, he’s here.” Turning towards her handsome lover, she waved him over to the counter and introduced him to Jolene and Sabine. The elder priestesses were sufficiently impressed and encouraged Lilly to go on and enjoy the rest of the afternoon with Roland.
Pulling her floppy hat over her face and putting her oversized sunglasses on, Lilly went flying out Panthea’s front door with Roland behind her. Walking up Rue Chartres, Lilly took a minute to silently invoke her mirrored-egg protection. Leading Roland around a corner onto Rue Ursuline she continued her roundabout journey to an Italian Deli on Decatur Street.
Roland gave her a puzzled look and she explained, “I’m changing the usual routes I take. Alex and his thugs grabbed me yesterday. It was terrifying and I don’t want it to happen again.”
Roland shocked, stopped and turned to look into her face, “Are you okay? What happened?”
Lilly told him briefly about the incident, trying to play it down. She didn’t want him to think she was a drama queen with endless troubles and sad stories.
Roland put his arm around her and drew her close to him, “You are cool with me. No one will harm you while I’m around.”
Lilly smiled up at him, “Thank you, that means a lot to me.”
Shaking off the bad vibes from her encounter with Alex, Lilly grabbed Roland’s hand and led him to an old fashion Italian deli on Decatur Street. The moment they entered, the delicious aromas made their mouths water.
Turning to Roland, she said, “You are about to experience a magnificent delight, the joys of the Italian muffuletta.” Picking up one of the huge sandwiches stuffed with ham, cheese, three different salamis and tons of olive salad, she grabbed a couple of root beers and headed for the river bank where she felt safe.
The wake of passing ships slapped the shoreline as they shared the big juicy sandwich. Olive oil dripped from the thick bread and ran down Lilly’s chin. Roland kissed and licked it away, making his way to her mouth. Olive oil slipped through her fingers as she squeezed the sandwich tight with one hand. They separated and Lilly smiled looking up at Roland wondering if he could hear the wild beating of her heart.
They finished the last of the Muffuletta and sat sipping Barque’s root beer, watching tiny tug boats move huge barges up the river. In tune with one another, they stood, joined hands and walked along the river’s edge, leaving the crowds of the French Quarter behind. After a bit, Roland exclaimed, “Hey man, let’s go sit under that big old oak tree and have a smoke.”
“A smoke of what?”
“Red bud” he replied as he led her to the ancient oak.
They sat together on the lowest limb of the oak, their feet brushing the ground. Roland pulled a small, tightly rolled joint out of his shirt pocket, lit it and took a deep toke. He handed the joint to Lilly. She took it between two fingers, put it to her mouth and immediately coughed.
“Wait, wait, let me show you how to do this, Miss Lyla,” Roland said in his best southern gentleman impersonation. “Take a tiny inhale, hold it in for a few seconds and blow it out.” Lilly tried again and after a few more coughs and sputters was able to hold the potent smoke in her lungs for a few seconds. She relaxed as they passed the joint to one another.
They sat beneath the oak tree for hours. Roland told her about life in San Francisco, the music scene at the Filmore West and Haight Ashbury.
His face grew animated as he recounted the night The Green Man Band had opened for Jefferson Airplane at the Filmore, the time he met Janice Joplin at a party
