When they had their drinks, they left and strolled down Bourbon toward Toulouse. Nora caught herself unable to stop glancing around to see if anyone was watching them.

“This is weird, walking with you at night in public.”

He put his arm around her waist and even patted her twice on her hip, possessively. She liked it and it terrified her. Liked it, because this might have been the first time she and Søren had ever walked around like a normal couple in their own town. Before they’d had to run away to foreign countries to play man and wife. Terrified her, because she liked it so much and knew she shouldn’t.

“You know you’re still a priest, right? Even if they are making you take a leave of absence, you still have to behave.”

“Why start now?” He pulled her a little closer and kissed her. A guy dressed as the pirate Jean Lafitte hooted his approval. Søren lifted his drink back in a salute.

Nora kept glancing at him out of the corner of her eye. This was a Søren she didn’t know. And it wasn’t just the beard. Although the beard was definitely intriguing.

“What do you think?” He raised his chin, and she patted his cheek.

“Very sexy. Very distinguished. Midlife crisis looks good on you.”

“Crisis,” he said. “From the Greek ‘krisis’ and ‘krinein,’ meaning ‘decision’ or ‘to decide.’”

“So a midlife crisis is a midlife decision-making time?”

“Precisely,” he said.

“You have a big decision to make.”

“Several, actually.”

“What does that mean?”

“I’ll show you.”

He took her hand and led her off Bourbon and up Saint Peter Street.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

“You’ll see.”

They walked about two blocks until Søren stopped suddenly in front of a house, an exquisite pale blue camelback with white plantation shutters on the four front windows.

From the front door hung a realtor’s lockbox.

Nora nodded slowly as she put two and two together. She put her hand to her forehead.

“Kingsley…” she said with a growl.

“My sentiments exactly.”

“He said he bought you a ‘little’ present, a trinket. That is not a trinket. That is a house.”

“Shall we go in?” he asked.

“Lead the way,” she said.

Søren punched in a code on the lockbox, which released the door key.

“He doesn’t know you know about this, does he?” Nora asked. “He told me to tell you he had a present for you.”

“He doesn’t know I know,” Søren said.

“How did you find out?”

“Two days before I left, I was with him. He was sleeping when his phone buzzed. I was worried it might be Juliette, so I glanced at it. A message from a realtor giving him the lockbox code. It included the MLS number and a very nice message from the agent saying, ‘I think your retired priest friend will love it. And if he doesn’t, I’ll take it.’”

“Retired priest friend?”

“Yes, apparently I’m retired now. At fifty-one. Either Kingsley was lying to her or engaging in some very wishful thinking.”