I was tempted to tell her the truth—that I wouldn’t trust her to take care of my pet dog (if I owned one, which I absolutely do not; dogs are slobbery, loathsome creatures).

“No. That’s quite all right. I’m tired and I would prefer to stay in while you young ones go out and have fun,” I said, truthfully.

Mara shrugged. “Okay, if you insist.”

“I do,” I said, giving her a stern glance. I still wasn’t sure if the coconut incident was an accident or done out of spite. Like Rosalee, surely Mara could see that Georgia posed a threat to her friend and Asher’s marriage. Georgia was much better suited for my son and I’d be damned if I let that loudmouth Mara try to harm her again.

I watched the others filter out of the kitchen and drift back upstairs to get ready for their fun day out. Good riddance, I thought, tossing my cup in the sink.

Chapter Thirteen

Bri

The sister-in-law

As much as I loved my mother, a day spent exploring New Orleans without her by my side sounded pretty good.

It wasn’t hard to miss the St. Louis Cathedral, nestled in the heart of Jackson Square, overlooking the neighboring historic buildings and neighborhoods. With its towers, spires, majestic clock, and church bells, it inspired awe, even from a non-history buff like me.

Of course, Tinsley had a lot to tell us, in her mousy, shy voice—the history behind the cathedral’s original construction in the sixteenth century, and about the fire and calamities it suffered through the years. Blah, blah, blah. That girl was boring!

As much as the old cathedral intrigued me, it was what was around it that really drew me in. Crowds of people were gathered in the square, some shopping at small pop-up booths, others dancing or playing music.

“Look! There’s a wedding parade,” Rosalee gushed. I turned to where she and the others were pointing. A brass band came marching right through the square, cornets and trombones blaring, leading a line of partygoers behind them. They were all dancing and smiling happily, and through the line-up I could see the tiny bride in a long, white dress and her handsome, grinning groom beside her.

“Wow. Should have gotten married here, instead of that stuffy Merribelle Gardens,” Mara said, clapping along and waving at the line of people.

I rolled my eyes. As much fun as I’d had hanging out with Mara at the pool last night, she was quick to remind me that she could be as annoying as hell.

“Nothing compares to Merribelle Gardens and don’t let my mother hear you saying things like that, Rosalee,” I said, turning my back on the parade and walking toward a stream of tents filled with booths.