Sister of a Sinner Read online

  “I am getting to her then,” Junior said with a hopeful note in his voice. He gazed out the window across broad Canal Street to Xochi’s apartment knowing she’d be at work. This morning, she’d turned down his offer to escort her to the trade center, but had eaten the blueberry pancakes he made. “Any chance there is an opening here?”

  “I think the second floor is on the market,” Alix offered before Tom could put a hand over her mouth.

  “Look, I promise I wouldn’t be up here all the time, and I’d be near if Xochi needed me.”

  “Not another guy pining for his lady love across the street like Dean did over Stacy,” Alix just had to mention. She followed that with a girly sigh.

  Tom rushed in to defend his brother’s manhood. “Dean didn’t pine when he broke up with Stacy. He took up with another woman because that’s what guys do when someone rejects them.”

  “Good thing I didn’t move out when we were fighting,” Alix said. “We all know how Dean’s fling with Ilsa turned out.”

  “Beck is a great kid, illegitimate or not. I wouldn’t mind having a son like that.”

  “Later,” Alix said. “I have a football career going on. Junior, you and Kiki are over, right? You wouldn’t go back to her because Xochi is a little confused right now.”

  “No, right from the start we both knew it was just recreational, but I have to say Daddy Joe is right. Those tiny women can surprise you. Kiki said she loved to climb big trees and suck on lollipops as child. She proved it.”

  “TMI. I might be a football player, but I’m still a girl. I don’t need to hear any more about your exploits with Kiki. If you move into this building, I want you to promise me no other women until Xo makes up her mind about you.”

  “Honey, we can’t stop him from leasing here.”

  “The management will want references, and they’ll ask us because he’s a Sinner.”

  Junior’s large hands abandoned the coffee mug and slammed against the heavy wooden table as if he’d splinter it to pieces. “I don’t want anyone but Xochi, but I’m not so sure about her.” He dug in his jeans pocket for his phone. “See here all over Facebook, shared and reshared. ‘On our vacay to NOLA, we spotted Xochi Billodeaux making out behind the LOVE statue with this sexy guy. How cool is that?’ Xo forgets your entire family is famous. She should be more careful about her PDAs. Alix, do you think Connor Bullock is sexier than me?”

  Alix cocked her head to the side and studied Junior. “Connor isn’t my type, but he’s very serious and smooth and yes, good looking. The kiss isn’t very hot though. You aren’t really my type either. I go for tall, skinny redheads.”

  “I guarantee I kiss better than that. Xo’s toes curled right on top of my feet yesterday when I kissed her after the massage.”

  Tom’s freckled face reddened. “You gave my sister a massage? Better have been one with all her clothes on like at the airport.”

  “A foot massage. Kiki told me they can be very arousing. She was right. I could feel the vibes between Xo and me and this rush of heat. Then, she pushed me away.”

  “Okay, I don’t need any more details. Might be a good idea if you moved in downstairs right away. I’ll endorse you.”

  “If you teach Tom how to do that foot massage, you have my vote,” Alix said, grinning at her husband.

  “You two are like rabbits, big white rabbits doing it all the time.”

  “Yeah,” Tom said almost boasting.

  “I have a purer reason for wanting to stay near Xochi. Did she tell you about the black men she sees? I’m afraid for her.”

  “Black men? Xochi is interested in multiple black men?” Alix’s fair complexion pinked up a little. “I guess I don’t know her that well after all.”

  “No, no, no! She sees these guys with black auras and thinks they are following her.”

  “If Xo says they are, then they are. She can read people the way we read play books.” Tom wrinkled his freckled forehead.

  “I know she’s frightened because she wants me to continue going to church with her even if I don’t live at her place anymore. She always sees them lurking around Jackson Square after Mass.”

  “You still go to Mass, do confession, all that rigmarole? I quit after I got out from under Mawmaw Nadine’s thumb. We’re going to raise our kids Lutheran, right, babe?”

  “When we get around to having them. We aren’t exactly good church attenders now, but I can volunteer to go with her regardless of not knowing what happens at a Catholic Mass. That would have to stop when football season begins because of Sunday games, but I could escort her the rest of the summer.”

  Junior observed Tom’s usually jovial face droop. There went his leisurely offseason Sundays with morning sex, Alix’s Swedish pancakes with lingonberry jelly, and more sex after they’d read the Times-Picayune, diminished though it was. He’d mentioned it often enough. Tom reached across Junior to take his wife’s pale hand. “I’d have to go with you because you’d be in danger, too, a beautiful blonde like you.” He leaned forward to gaze into Alix’s wide blue eyes.

  Talk about feeling in the way. Junior pushed back his chair to retreat from the love fest. To him, Alix appeared to be a very tall, somewhat broad-shouldered woman in peak physical condition, who could most likely kick the shit out of any man who accosted her. She’d make a great bodyguard, but Tom treated his wife as if she were as delicate as the mystical flowers on Kiki’s screen. Junior stood without commenting on this.

  “Thanks, Alix, but I really want to look after Xochi and don’t mind going to church. My mama still makes me attend whenever I’m home at the ranch. Doesn’t matter how much bigger or taller I am than Mom, she always guilts me into it.”

  Another thought suddenly entered Junior’s mind. “Xo is fairly devout, not like the rest of us. Do you think she is considering becoming a nun? She keeps saying she needs to make an important decision in her life, and I’m interfering with that.”

  “She never mentioned anything to me,” Alix said, eyes wide. “Lutherans don’t have that problem. I mean I can see how giving up salsa dancing and sex would be a really big deal to her.”

  “Sure, my sister goes to Mass every week, but a nun? I don’t think so.” Tom gave an emphatic shake of his head. “She’d tell me first before Stacy or Alix. We share a bloodline.”

  “Good. I’m relieved. Wonderful cake, Alix,” Junior said eyeing the quarter that remained. “You’ve both been a great help. I’m going downstairs right now and see if I can get a lease on the second floor. You’ll give that reference, right?”

  “He’s a young man of good character. He attends church regularly,” Alix replied, while Tom guffawed. “Take the rest of the cake. I’m going to make another one today, chocolate maybe.” She wrapped the hunk in foil, handed it over to Junior, and waved him out the door.

  He went directly to the office and applied. Acceptance did not come immediately, but few could afford such prime real estate. With an endorsement from his upstairs neighbors and Reverend Bullock as a reference, he would be sure to get the place. Might as well do a little furniture shopping in the meantime. With mini-camp coming up, he’d be short on time in the near future. Number one on the list: a king-sized bed. He wouldn’t admit it to Xo, not ever, but Stacy’s old queen-sized mattress really didn’t fit his far bigger body. Maybe he’d get memory foam, great for aching bodies and no springs to squeak during the sex act. With that happy thought in mind, he crossed the street to spend his final days as Xochi’s roommate. Next time, he wanted to be more.

  Chapter Eleven

  After leaving the cake at the apartment, time weighed heavily on Junior’s hands. He went out to do mattress shopping and found himself with an entire set of bedroom furnishings on order by the time he left the store that had memory foam on sale. An attractive young black woman with a wonderful smile encouraged him to lay on any mattress he chose. Did he want the bed adjustable, firm or soft or medium? Maybe adjustable would be good in case he broke anything playin
g football and probably medium, the way he liked his steaks. Glorius—because that was her name—laughed at his joke.

  She laid a hand with beautiful gold nails striped in purple for LSU, all but the thumbnail, which possessed a small tiger decal, on his arm. No doubt she recognized him. Glorious led him to a bedroom set she felt certain suited his masculinity. Dark wood, but contemporary, substantial with clean lines, not fussy. Before he knew it, he’d purchased a massive dresser with handsome gold drawer pulls and a huge mirror, two matching end tables, a set of tall brass lamps with modern parchment shades, and a vast padded headboard that exactly matched his skin tone, or so Glorious claimed as she held his hand against its soft, suede texture. “Just stroke that and imagine how good it will feel against your back.”

  “I’ll take it all, the whole room, but I need to hold off on delivery until I sign the lease on my place.”

  “We can do that.” Glorious gave him her truly glorious smile. He figured she worked on commission until she offered to help him with any other interior decorating needs on her own time. Tempting, very tempting as she had full breasts and a bodacious booty shoved into a dress that showed both off to advantage.

  Junior began to see how staying true to Xochi as a pro football player might be a struggle, but he was a man up to the task. He turned down the offer. “I’m using a friend’s decorator.” As he recalled, Dean and Tom described the woman who did their place as motherly, middle-aged, and handpicked by Mama Nell. He’d go with her.

  Stopping for groceries for the evening meal made him late. Junior planned on crispy fried catfish rolled in cornmeal, a large salad, and biscuits with honey-butter. Making sure all the ingredients were fresh slowed him down. When he arrived at the apartment, he found Xochi, a go-cup of coffee at her side, cramming Bundt cake into her mouth at the kitchen table.

  “Hey, you’ll ruin your dinner as both our mamas used to say. I planned on that for dessert.”

  “So, I had my dessert first. There’s still a piece for you. I didn’t eat it all, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

  “Nope. I had plenty when I visited Tom and Alix. She sure can bake.”

  “I can’t,” Xo replied, as if this were a major flaw and a reason they could never be together. “Your mother did all the baking while we were running around at soccer games, playing in the pool, and riding the ponies.”

  “She didn’t mind. Mamacita loves to cook for people. That’s why I got so big. I’ll show you how to make her biscuits tonight, the recipe she got from Mawmaw Nadine so you know how good.”

  “I remember them. Melt in your mouth.”

  “Up, and we’ll get started. Pop them in the oven while I fry the fish. You can make the salad.”

  Xochi eyed the sacks of fresh produce. “You can’t just buy it in a bag? Only the best for you?”

  “That’s right. I only want the best.” He let her know with his warm eyes, the way he leaned in as she rose that included her, at least he hoped so. She ducked under his arm and frantically began washing field greens, dicing heirloom tomatoes, and slicing the red orbs of radishes, dumping all into a large wooden bowl.

  “Okay, I’ll whip up those biscuits.” He did, cutting the elastic floured dough into circles with the top of a glass for lack of a better tool and putting them in the oven. Meanwhile, the oil heated in the frying pan on the stove. Junior dredged the catfish filets, once in flour, then in an egg wash, and finally in the seasoned cornmeal. The grease splattered as he lowered them into the pan. Xochi, making herself useful, set the table, and with Junior’s directions whisked a simple vinaigrette dressing together. He softened butter in the microwave and blended it with honey about the time the biscuits came from the oven nicely browned and the fish curled crispy at the edges. Xochi poured iced tea with lemon. They sat at the kitchen table to eat.

  “Heaven,” Xo said as she slathered the honey-butter on her second hot biscuit. “The catfish is as good as any I’ve had in a restaurant. You really are exceptional, Junior.”

  He paused with a forkful of salad halfway to his mouth. “You finally noticed.”

  “An exceptional cook, I meant, and you’ll be a great football player, too.” She backed away from her previous words, stumbling verbally as she had physically against the exquisite oriental screen. “I’ll-I’ll miss having meals with you when you move out.”

  “I found a place right across the street in Tom’s building, second floor. I’ll be out of your hair as soon as they approve the paperwork.” Her long, flowing black hair that he wanted to tangle with his fingers. He forced the thought aside and put his hand in the biscuit basket instead.

  “So soon. I thought you’d wait until the last minute.”

  Did he detect regret in her voice? “If you’ll be happier with me gone, I’m gone. In fact, I bought a bedroom set today with a king-sized mattress from a very helpful young lady at the furniture store.”

  “I’ll just bet she was.”

  Junior hoped that remark indicated jealousy. “She offered to help me decorate.”

  “Is that so?”

  “Yep. But, I’d rather have your opinion.”

  “Maybe I could make some suggestions.”

  “I still plan to walk you to church on Sunday. I want you to be safe.” Junior covered her hand with his. He felt the warmth surge up his arm. Didn’t she feel the same? Her eyes said she did, but she swiftly lowered her lashes.

  “No need this week. I’m going to Chapelle to take care of some business and visit with the folks.”

  “I could drive you.”

  “No, I need to go alone. Stacy is loaning me her car. We’ll have a long talk when I get back. Maybe clear some things up, I promise.”

  “Like you and Connor all over the internet? Him, not me?” If that statement didn’t show jealousy, none did. Junior knew he should have held that in, but it sat on his tongue like the bitterness of the field greens.

  “Let me see!” She seized the phone he waggled in front of her outraged face. “Oh, no, I warned Connor. He isn’t used to being a celebrity.”

  “Seems he isn’t used to kissing either. This is how you should be kissed.” Junior raised her from her chair by both elbows, not rough but assertive. Tossing the phone aside, he smoothed her round cheeks with his thumbs and went for the sweet taste of her mouth. He claimed the right to run his fingers into her dark hair and down her back, pressing her closer to his body every moment. The heat between them mounted.

  They melted against each other like honey-butter on biscuits, one so much better with the other. She still wore her Anchi Services dress with the fuller skirt she’d campaigned for with Stacy. Knee-length and professional, it still hiked up easily when Junior ran his hands down her thighs to the hem and up again to discover Xochi wore silky bikini pants beneath it, and the crotch of those panties had dampened in the little time he’d extended the kiss. He rubbed a finger against them lightly, then harder. She hadn’t pushed him away yet. When she moaned, he worked his way past the silk and applied more pressure. She came against his hand so suddenly he drew back just as her nails raked down his shirt. Xochi murmured, “Stop, we have to stop now.”

  “Why?” he muttered into her hair, redolent of tropical blossoms as he knew it would be.

  “Because there is so much you don’t know about me. Wait only a little while longer. Please.”

  She’d asked him to wait, and he would. He lowered her skirt, straightened her dress, even finger-combed her mussed hair as if they had to face a set of angry parents after breaking curfew. “I’m going to clean up the dinner dishes now.”

  “Yes, that’s what we should do.”

  Good as he was going to get for now, he figured. Junior Polk knew when to hold the line and when to rush.

  Chapter Twelve

  To her immense surprise, Dean suggested Xochi take his black Mustang convertible instead of Stacy’s silver Lexus sedan. “Too much trouble to take the baby seats out of the back,” he said like an experienced
family man and a generous brother. He tossed her the keys. “Don’t wreck it.”

  Now, she tooled along the road to Chapelle with the top down, her eyes shaded by large sunglasses, and her hair held in place somewhat by a hot pink visor that matched the handbag on the seat next to her. She wore a dress as bright yellow as the hot, sunny day. For these three hours on the road, she let go of all her troubles and enjoyed the breeze whipping her hair out behind, keeping the sweat off her neck and shoulders.

  Too bad she’d attracted a pickup truck around Morgan City crammed with brown young men who decided to play highway tag with her, first passing at a high rate of speed as they hooted, honked and waved, then slowing until she had to pass them. They’d tailgate for a few miles, pass, and begin the game again. The exit for Chapelle lay ahead. She veered off without using her turn signal, causing the pickup to overshoot the back road into town. Xo doubted they’d bother to seek the next annoying J-turn recently installed on the highway allowing cars to safely reverse directions. Didn’t those boys realized she was much too old to be impressed by this type of juvenile courtship?

  Her hometown surrounded by sugarcane fields lay on a flat ridge along the bayou, but this particular approach featured several rolling hills before reaching the plateau. She accelerated creating a fun rollercoaster ride as the big engine surged. At the top of one hill, she glanced in her rearview mirror and spotted the same pickup truck cresting another and coming on fast, but she knew Chapelle and they most likely did not. Nearing the city limits, she slowed to forty-five, then braked to thirty-five sedately entering town. Xo gave a friendly wave to the cops running a speed trap with their squad car hidden by a tall ligustrum hedge that also provided a little shade. They knew all the Billodeauxs and waved back. She turned onto Main and then again into the old neighborhood of small white cottages, some well kept, some not. In the distance, she heard the siren of the squad car activate and smiled. So long, boys.

  Xochi sought out the house with the shrine to the Virgin Mary in a bathtub shell on the front lawn. Marigolds bedecked the statue’s feet, and one whitewashed rock stood out amongst their brilliant yellow color. Xo parked and made her way up the walk that crumbled more each year. She entered a screened porch, its rockers rarely used since the advent of air-conditioning, and rapped on the door. Feet shuffled and approached.