Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 82077 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82077 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
I did know that, and I promised myself I would not guilt her into staying home.
He wrapped me in his arms then because he was a smart man and always knew when I needed a hug.
We landed in New Orleans on the sixteenth of March, which was a nice balmy Wednesday. Even though I hadn’t been in years, I still remembered where we went to get a taxi in the airport, and my husband was impressed.
“Why?” I asked him, squinting.
He cleared his throat but didn’t answer.
“Sam,” I said in a deep voice.
“He doesn’t think either of us can navigate out of a parking lot,” my daughter said without looking up from her phone.
I shot him a look, and he grabbed me and kissed me, so that was all right.
What was nice was that we were staying at my favorite place, the Hotel Monteleone, and while Sam had to go down and check in and get his lanyard and a bag, Hannah and I went walking around. Now, when the boys come with us, when Sam does, we get stuck walking down Bourbon Street. The boys go because it’s fun, it can be raunchy, and inevitably, there are things to see. Not to be judgmental, but there are a lot of kids under ten that get walked down that street as well. In my opinion, no kids should be on that street. It’s sticky, it smells like pee, and it’s incredibly noisy. My husband likes to walk up and down at least once because he’s looking for anyone breaking the law. Always fun to bust someone while on vacation.
Hannah and I stuck to Royal Street, which I loved, and she loved looking at antiques and jewelry. In Royal Antiques, she gasped over a lacquered cabinet she came upon and was gushing to me about mahogany and a Louis XVI-style gilt bronze-mounted something, and I had no idea how it could be French and a Chinese lacquered cabinet at the same time. It didn’t really matter; she was thrilled, and that was all that was important. She took pictures, sent them quickly off to who else, and waited for Aaron Sutter to call her back.
“Well?” she asked excitedly into the phone after she picked up.
It was fun to watch her get excited, and she smiled and nodded, and then when the call was concluded, walked over to the nice man at the front who had greeted us upon entry and said that she needed to buy something.
I thought he would be glib, questioning what she wanted, but he was completely respectful, asked her to show him the item, and took the credit card she handed him.
“I’ve never seen one like this,” he said, smiling at her, not for a minute questioning the card in her possession.
“Oh, it’s the JP Morgan Chase Reserve credit card,” she explained kindly. “It’s made of palladium and gold. Cool, right?”
He nodded and asked to see her license, which she showed him. As the name on her ID matched the one on the card, he followed her to the piece she wanted.
“Oh, you have exquisite taste,” he complimented her.
She nodded. “Thank you, I know.”
I would have lectured her on being more humble, but Hannah did have great taste in everything, thus far.
I had no idea one just rang up forty-five thousand dollars on a card, but Hannah had more experience than I did. She signed, gave detailed shipping directions, and listened with rapt attention as he explained how they did their packaging. When it was done, she had a receipt and a certificate of authenticity, and what looked like a small book of paperwork. She put it all into her My Neighbor Totoro tote bag and we were off.
“Okay, big spender,” I teased her. “What are we going to do now?”
“Look at earrings,” she announced, smiling at me. “Uncle Aaron said since I saved him thirty thousand dollars, that I get a bauble.”
I shook my head.
“What?”
“That cabinet—which is not that big, by the way—normally costs seventy-five thousand dollars?” I was so out of my comfort zone.
She squinted at me. “It’s an antique,” she said, like that explained everything.
The next place we went to ignored us. There were people there who were better dressed, though I will say, in our defense, that we didn’t look bad. I was in vintage jeans and a cardigan and a T-shirt under that. Hannah was in a white button-down shirt and black trousers, and her tan suede belt matched her tan suede flats. She looked crisp and lovely, and as usual, I got stuck carrying her sweater in case she got cold. But me carrying her outerwear should not have, in my humble opinion, made people ignore us. We walked in and out without even a greeting.
“Makes you want to carry whatever we buy back to them and do the Pretty Woman scene, doesn’t it?”