The Mask of New Paris ✓

III. A Curker Welcome

After dinner, my father guides our guests to their rooms at the back of the ground floor. The Mcgoldnick women quickly clean up the mess and do the dishes. Judy walks over to the radio but is stopped by my mother.

"Our guests would like some silence and rest, Judy. They have been awake since early this mornin'. Let them prepare for the night in quiet."

An eerie silence follows, only disturbed by the ticking of porcelain plates and cutlery in the sink. Frea has opened up the small windows in the kitchen and the nighttime dampness of the bayou slowly creeps in the room. The sound of the cicadas is echoing outside, a lonely bird chirping a merry song.

The peaceful quiet is disturbed when the sound of people approaching drifts through the open windows. Judy stands on the tips of her toes and leans heavily over the counter to catch a glimpse of what's going on outside.

"What's happenin', Judy?" My mum asks absentmindedly, drying her hands on a floral patterned dish towel.

My little sister frowns before answering "It looks like we have an unexpected visit." She mumbles to which my mother is suddenly very attentive and strodes towards the window. I join in and the three of us are watching a group of around six people stroll up our pathway. 

They are accompanied with baskets and bottles, a guitar box and an accordeon. Our visitors aren't even trying to be quiet as they grab our chairs and make themselves comfortable. A lonely figure darts through the evening sunset towards our front door.

In the light of our front porch her features become clear and we're all watching as my oldest sister, Irène, knocks firmly on the wood. As if awoken from a dream, mum pulls open the kitchen door that leads directly outside and welcomes our sister home. 

A man lights the other lights of our terrace and soon we discover Ralph Sallow, the mayor's son is sitting down and tuning his guitar. As my mum walks towards him, he throws her a dashing smile and quickly apologizes for the sudden arrival. Apparently, Irène insisted to stop by.

My father joins the others, offers them cooled drinks and sits down with them. It seems as if they have forgotten the strangers in the back of the house. However, Judy and I notice the three figures standing in the porch light watching the entire occasion from a distance. Frea nearly pushes Judy and I outside, mumbling something about an apple cake she had left to serve.

As we join the others, Irène immediately runs over to us and we're suddenly indulged in a group hug.

"I've missed you so." She says as she squeezes Judy and I tight.

"Nobody is stoppin' you from droppin' by more often." Judy says as she struggles to get herself out of the embrace.

"What does bring you to the other side of town?" I ask. 

Irène smiles and a hint of mystery shimmers in her dark brown eyes. However, before she can open her mouth to tell us a secret of sorts, my mother struts forwards and immediately starts apologizing to our guests who are uncomfortably watching the likes of us.

Mrs. Whitacre's hair is let down and she has put a robe over her pastel pink dress. Her lips have lost their vibrant red color but her eyes are still beautifully donned in makeup. Mr. Whitacre has only lost his vest but still remains stoic in the opening of the door as he carefully watches us and takes everyone in.

My eyes land on Reed. His hair is a bit disheveled and he's only wearing his shirt and suspenders, his hands are tucked in the pockets of his trousers as he leans against the doorframe. An amused smile is dancing around his lips, the scar doing its best to prevent one corner to rise too high.