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We laughed at his frankness, but Krista, I noticed, was laughing the hardest. She was also gazing, in the style of a zombie, into Uncle Cat’s eyes. I watched her tickle the inside of her elbow as he spoke.
“You OK?” I murmured, nudging her.
She smiled and straightened her arms.
Uncle Cat went on to welcome everyone to his hometown and share that New Orleans isn’t Vegas, so “there’s no ‘what happens in New Orleans stays in New Orleans’ rule.” He said that no one in New Orleans should be sober enough to know or care what you’re doing in New Orleans, so the only rule is to have a good time. “And be careful in the Quarter,” he concluded. “For sure, whatever a man be seeking in the Quarter goin’ crawl behind, follow him home at night. Wake wit’ him in de mornin’. And I’m not talking no living desires neither. You can find anything in the Quarter. Your worst nightmare. Your best dream!”
Everyone was quiet, trying to decipher the weight of the mysterious message. Suddenly, though we knew better, we all imagined voodoo priestesses and witches’ cauldrons mounted on every street corner in the Quarter.
“You stop it, now,” Mrs. Dupree said, pulling Uncle Cat’s arm. “You scaring these people half to death. Ain’t nothing like that going on. This is a wedding. My son’s wedding!” She smiled and turned to Ian. “I’m so proud of you!”
“Thanks, Mama,” Ian said, kissing his mother on the cheek.
“My pride and joy,” she beamed, hugging him.
As Mrs. Dupree loved on Ian, Krista announced that the wedding party needed to move to the hotel’s atrium to rehearse for the ceremony and that the other guests were free to continue to party in the suite.
One of Mrs. Dupree’s sisters started taking pictures of the Duprees and insisted that Scarlet get into some of the shots. Mrs. Dupree was still frowning, though, and kept her eyes sharp on Scarlet.
“Gwendolin, you get into the picture with Scarlet and Ian,” the sister ordered. “I want one of just the three of you.”
“Yeah!” Scarlet forced in her cheerleader voice, but I could tell she’d sensed Mrs. Dupree’s stare. Everyone had. For some reason, Scarlet tried to trade places with Ian and stand next to Mrs. Dupree in the picture, but she looked at Scarlet like she was a dead squirrel and I literally felt the chill in the room. Ian wiped his forehead and smiled at his mother. There was nothing he could do but pray that she’d warm up to whatever was keeping her on ice.
Before her sister could snap the photo, Mrs. Dupree pointed to me and said, “You come on, Rachel! You get in the photo!”
“I can’t; I’m working,” I said.
“Nonsense,” she argued. “I want a picture with you. Come on!” She called like I was her own child.
And I moved.
“Cheese!” we said as the cameras flashed. I was standing on the end beside Mrs. Dupree, who was beside Ian and Scarlet.
“Cheese!” again.
Mrs. Dupree rubbed my shoulder. “OK, now,” she started, stepping backward and pushing Ian and me together, “let’s get a picture of these two.” She inched behind Ian and took Scarlet’s hand.
“Mama, what are you doing?” Ian asked, seeing the repositioning come together.
“I want a picture of the two of you!” she replied. “You and Rachel.” She pulled Scarlet. “Come on, sweetie!” she said like Scarlet was some hurt fawn.
The cameras started flashing again.
“Just perfect,” Mrs. Dupree said, gripping Scarlet’s arm. “Perfect.”
“OK, we don’t have long in here,” Krista said, calming the wedding party down after the group trek to the atrium. “There’s actually a ceremony in here tonight, so we’re just going to walk through things one time and then we’re out of here.”
She had one of the staffers seat us in line order in the little white chairs in the front of the atrium as she went through the fine points of the ceremony on her iPad with Scarlet.
Mrs. Dupree kept asking about Scarlet’s parents every thirty seconds or so, her voice getting more haughty, suggesting that if they didn’t make it to the rehearsal maybe they didn’t care about the wedding. “I wouldn’t have missed this rehearsal for the world,” she said at one point. “Even if I was dead, I would’ve paid the good Lord to resurrect me, so I could get back here to be with my baby.”
Ian got up and pulled her into the back corner to talk to her. Some of Scarlet’s other relatives had been listening to Mrs. Dupree’s various comments and they were looking restless.
When Mr. and Mrs. Bloom finally did walk into the atrium, looking cool and nonchalant, everyone got quiet.
“Mami! Papi!” Scarlet ran to hug them like she hadn’t seen them in years.
“Finally,” Mrs. Dupree said, escaping Ian’s hold in the corner. She straightened her jacket and headed to greet them, walking with her head high like she was some kind of New Orleans dignitary.
