H is for Hawk (Men of ALPHAbet Mountain)

I tried to relax. Rose was in the best possible hands with Malia and Gerry while we were gone. There was nothing to worry about. But the part of me that had already started to see itself as her father, not her uncle, was always going to worry. Not about Gerry and Malia, but just about Rose in general.

We were up bright and early the next morning and packed what little we thought we might need into a couple of suitcases before tossing them in a car and grabbing the cooler. I was a big fan of road snacks, and we had a bed-and-breakfast waiting for us in Louisiana, but I wanted to make sure we had a bunch of cold drinks and a way to transport any food we bought down there back home when we came back. After filling it with ice and sticking plenty of sodas and water bottles in it, we were off for our trip.

It was just after dawn as we hit the highway and started going down the road. Rather than take the main roads, I had mapped out a longer but more scenic trip using backroads and long stretches of state highways that weren’t as often used. It meant taking us longer to get there, but we had far more to see and do on the way down than using the interstate.

Dee was down for the adventure, and we had barely cracked into our first sodas and bags of chips before we found a colossal ball of twine that was somehow only the third largest in the world. After that, Georgia offered a few places to stop in the short stretch we ran through it, including a stop just to grab a bag of fresh peaches, and ended up with directions to real, honest to God moonshine on our ride back.

Alabama was the longest stretch of the trip, but we stopped a few times both for gas and supplies as well as to go to rest stops. There were also scenic places to stop and occasional mile markers with plaques that had various big events through history that happened there. We stopped for most of them, taking in as much as we could on our way down. When we finally got near New Orleans, it was getting late, and we were both feeling pretty tired.

We didn’t even bother to bring out all of our stuff when we got to our destination, an old mansion that had been turned into lodging by someone who knew the architecture would be a pull all on its own. It was gorgeous and unique and felt like someone had ripped it straight from the mid-1800s and placed it in the modern day.

The owners, an older couple named Bill and Steven, met us at the door with bright smiles.

“Welcome,” Bill said, holding out his hand for a shake. “I take it you’re the Blackthornes?”

I felt Dee squeeze my hand tight when she heard that, and I realized it was the first time someone had referred to us as a married couple after the reception. It was thrilling in its own way, and I seemed to pep up a bit from the tiredness of the road.

“We are,” I said. “Nice to meet you.”

“Very much. My name is Bill, and if there is anything I can do to make your stay more magical, please let me or Steven know,” he said. “But I am sure after such a long trip, you are quite ready for your rooms, yes?”

“Yes, please,” Dee said.

“Then follow me,” Steven said. “It’s right back this way.”

Dee and I followed him down a long hallway past a spiral staircase and into a section of the mansion that looked slightly different than the rest. It was darker but in a seductive way. The red paint on the wall was almost black, and there were black lace patterns on it.

“This is beautiful,” Dee said, admiring some of the furniture and architecture as we wound our way down the hall.

“This used to be a bordello,” Steven said. “For many years, this was the premiere house of negotiable affections as I like to say. While we have updated some of the amenities to fit modern standards, we have kept the decorative touch of Madame Rougeau in this wing. Your room was her own suite, actually.”

Steven stopped by the last door in the hall, a gilded frame that had a diamond on the doorknob. When he opened it, the room took our breath away. It was ornate and classic, looking like it was literally out of the past. The bed was large and almost round, and it took me a second to realize it was heart shaped. Soft spicy candles burned in an ancient burner in the corner of the room, and a bottle of champagne sat in a tub of ice near the foot of the bed. There were old, massive drawers and desks, and the room had creative lighting to give it enough light to see in but maintain its private and seductive aura.