Safe Passage (2 page)

"Well, with that, I'm headed out. Amber should be getting off work soon, and I want to see her at all before Tuesday." Becs' live-in girlfriend Amber was an ER resident and their schedules were either completely in synch or completely opposite depending on the week.

Jules saw her out and then sat down at her kitchen table looking over the papers from the safe. She started with the newspaper articles. The first was an obituary for Matthew Delacroix. He died in 1939 in a robbery in the quarter. She turned on her laptop and opened up a file from her Grandmother—the Daughters of the Confederacy family tree information that she wanted Jules to use to join. So far, Jules had continued to find reasons to put her Grandmother off on this. She looked over the family tree and saw that Matthew Delacroix was her great grandfather. That was more support for the idea that everything in the safe had been her auntie's. She glanced at the leather bound journal. She didn't feel ready to read it yet. It felt like she was spying on Auntie, who had always been such a private person. She pushed it aside for now and looked at the sketch.

"She was beautiful," Jules murmured, wondering if Auntie had been the artist. Then her eyes fell on the letter again and she tried to remember her French vocabulary. "École! That means school." She scanned the letter for other words she recognized, but then decided the best thing to do would be to use this as a reason to talk to Genevieve Dubois tomorrow at work. 

*~*~*

Jules stood in the doorway watching Genevieve Dubois, the school's new French teacher. She was grading papers and Jules forgot to breathe as she watched the way her light eyebrows furrowed in concentration and her tongue stuck out of the side of her mouth just slightly as she considered an answer. A few honey blonde hairs had escaped the elegant knot at the back of her head, and they floated around in the flotsam of the air conditioner. Jules couldn't really see her eyes at her current angle, but she knew they were a rich hazel that tended toward green with flecks of gold. Genevieve was small, probably just over five feet with a slight frame. The large desk she sat at made her look almost fragile. Jules took a deep breath and knocked on the doorway of the room as she walked in.

Genevieve looked up and grinned. "Ms. Delacroix, what brings you here? Are you lost?"

Jules blushed and shook her head. "No. Not lost. And please, call me Jules. I was wondering—"

"Yes." Genevieve smiled wider.

"I found this letter in my house, and well, it's in French." Jules walked toward Genevieve's desk holding the letter in her hand.

Genevieve's face fell briefly. "You don't speak it?"

"No, my French is terrible."

"Such a sad day when a French Creole girl with the name Delacroix can't speak French."

"Now you sound like my grandmama."

Genevieve shook her head, smiling. "Perish the thought. Let's look at it."

Jules handed her the letter, encased in a plastic sleeve. She sat down in the chair next to the desk.

"Thanks, Genevieve."

"Please, just Gen. Let's see here." She began to read, her lips moving slightly as she looked over it. Jules was almost hypnotized by the movement of her full bottom lip. Then she abruptly stopped reading, huffed in frustration, and took off her black plastic rimmed, cat's eye glasses, tossing them to the desk. "Jules, this isn't French."

"Sure it is, I recognized a few of the words."

"It starts out as French, but after the first paragraph, it's gibberish."

"Really." Jules stood and leaned over Gen's back to look down at the paper, placing her hands palm down on the desk on either side of Gen. "I didn't read past the first sentence. Once I noticed it was French and I decided to go to an expert. Oh, I should have kept going, I would have known that wasn't French, it doesn't have any vowels." She pointed at a word at the beginning of the second paragraph. She caught a whiff of a subtle floral scent and lost her train of thought for a second when she realized that must be Gen.

Gen cleared her throat softly, bringing Jules back to the task at hand. Jules backed away faster than if she'd been hooked in a bass fishing championship. "Um, could you put vowels in to make it a word?" She moved back to the chair and sat to try to cover the quick movement.

"La roue de la fortune," Gen murmured under her breath with a snort.

"I think I can guess that one, Gen. And yes, Pat, I'd like to buy a vowel."

Gen laughed and looked at the word. She sighed, "Hjx? I don't know, Jules. If it were hdx it could be hideux, hideous, or hrx could be heureux, happy. I mean, the other words around it, some have vowels, so I don't think it's a simple case of adding letters."

Jules shot up in her chair as she realized what was going on. "Of course, it's in code. Okay, I can do this." Her eyes lit up in excitement. "I haven't done ciphers in forever, they're fun."

Gen laughed. "You lost me at cipher."

"Oh, a cipher is one of the oldest codes, what you do, is–"

The bell overhead rang, cutting Jules off. "Crap, I have an AP stats class and they have a test today. They're probably all standing outside my door already, the nerds." She grinned. She loved her nerds and how much they liked math. "Look, I'd still really love your help on this. Um …"

"How about we have some dinner and work on it," Gen suggested.

"Great. Tonight?"

Gen nodded.

"Okay, I'll swing by after last class and we can talk times and places."

Jules ran out of the room trying to make it across campus to the math wing before the second bell.

She ran down the hallway and reached her classroom door just as the second bell rang. She unlocked the door and let the line of seniors, and two over-achieving juniors, into the room.

*~*~*

Gen looked down at the letter she'd set back on her desk and shook her head lightly. She walked to the white board and wrote out ten sentences in French. "Pencil and paper only, this is a pop quiz," she directed her class. She sat down at her computer as her students began to translate the sentences. This would buy her enough time to e-mail Jules.

*~*~*

Jules started her students on their test then sat down at her computer. She input her attendance in the school's computer program and an alert box appeared at the bottom of her screen. "New E-Mail." She clicked on the box to open her faculty email and read.

From: Genevieve Dupois
To: Julianna Delacroix
Re: Leaving things behind

Jules,

You left the letter here, just wanted to make sure you knew where it was.

--Gen

Jules smiled to herself and hit reply.

*~*~*

Gen was opening up her personal email account when the alert appeared on her screen.

From: Julianna Delacroix
To: Genevieve Dupois
Re: Re: Leaving things behind

Gen,

Thanks so much for letting me know, and for all your help. The least I can do is fix you dinner as a thank you. How about my place, tonight?

--Jules

Gen worked to suppress her grin and hit reply. But before she could finish typing her response, she noticed one of her students looking at her neighbor's paper and quickly stood to deal with the situation.

*~*~*

Jules was trying not to show she was freaking out. She internally lectured herself that this was the problem with technology; you act before thinking about it. She should never have asked Gen over for dinner. The woman was straight and now, here came the rowing coach, hitting on her. "Shit, double shit, balls," was running through her head on repeat. She opened up her gmail hoping to find someone online to talk her down. She looked down the gchat list and sighed in relief when she saw the green dot next to Beth Schmidt, a girl she'd been friends with since her first day of college. She clicked on the name immediately and began typing:

Jules D:
Beth, I did something really fucking stupid

Beth S:
What this time?

Jules D:
Thanks for your support. You really are the best friend a girl could wish for.

Beth S:
What did you do?

Jules D:
I think I just asked out Genevieve Dubois.

Beth S:
You think? Don't you know?

Beth S:
Wait, Genevieve? The French teacher you've been panting over since August? I thought you told me she was painfully straight? That was really stupid.

Jules D:
Yes, thank you for making me feel better. You know, when you have one of your crises about men I am soooo supportive, I'm like, a Victorian corset, I'm so supportive. You, on the other hand, are a Walmart sports bra of support.

Beth S:
LMAO!

Beth S:
Okay, so what happened?

Jules told the whole story to Beth, stopping every few minutes to watch her students take their tests. When she'd finished the explanation, she waited, drumming her fingertips on the desk expectantly.

Beth S:
It sounds to me like you left it ambiguous. You'll be fine.

Jules D:
Then why hasn't she answered, Beth?

Beth S:
She is at work, Jules, maybe she's teaching. You know, like you should be.

Jules D:
My kids are taking a test, I'm covered.

Beth S:
Still, I think you're fine.

Jules D:
Why did I say I'd cook?

Beth S:
You're a great cook.

Jules D:
Thanks, but I invited her over and I said I'd cook. I mean, there is a way to interpret this where I was basically propositioning her.

Beth S:
Propositioning her, really, Jules? What the hell were you planning to serve for dinner? Pussy?

Jules D:
Seriously Beth? You know what I mean. Come over for dinner, I'll cook is kind of like saying, there's food and, hey, my bed is upstairs so let’s get in it. God, I'm an idiot.

Beth S:
Only in your head. To the rest of the world you were offering dinner. Just dinner.

Jules D:
Yeah, but she's straight, and I'm not.

Beth S:
Which is why it's just dinner. And you HAVE to stop obsessing over straight girls. I mean, as one of your former obsessions, it's flattering and all, but seriously Jules, it sucks for you. And, for the girl, knowing she can't be what you want.

Jules D:
Thanks Beth.

Beth S:
No problem

Beth S:
So, all joking aside, what are you going to cook?

Jules D:
Blackened salmon, rice, and asparagus in a hollandaise. Why?

Beth S:
Damn, you might turn her cooking like that.

Jules D:
It never turned you.

Beth S:
Yeah, well, you came close once or twice when you cooked like that.

Jules D:
Now you tell me that? Great. Get back to work.

Beth S:
Back at ya!

Jules D:
Okay, I should probably grade anyway.

Jules closed the chat window and looked around the room; all of her students were still focused on their tests. She glanced over at the clock on the wall. She hated waiting. She took out a stack of geometry papers and began to grade, willing the clock to move faster, glancing at her computer screen after every paper she graded, waiting for the "New EMail" alert to pop up from her faculty e-mail.

Halfway through the stack she saw the alert. In her hurry to open the email, the green pen in her hand hit the upper edge of the mouse and flipped over her hand end over end toward her students.

"Look out, Emily!"

Emily looked up and saw the pen and ducked out of the way. Luckily, it missed the student and hit her desk, skidded across it and landed on the floor.

Jules stood and walked over to the pen, bending down and grabbing it. "Well, now that I've interrupted your trains of thought completely, how about y’all finish up the test? In the future I'll go back to the verbal ten minute warning instead of throwing things," she said with forced cheer as her class laughed and went back to their tests. She made a note to herself to give Emily an extra five points on her test and stuck it to the bottom of her computer monitor as a reminder. That was when she remembered that she was looking for a reply to her earlier e-mail and excitedly opened outlook to view her faculty email. She held her breath as the screen opened.

The email was from her department chair reminding her about the dates of the AP tests. She snorted in frustration and went back to grading algebra assignments.

After the long awaited bell rang, she headed over to the faculty lounge to get some more coffee.

She was filling up her "Rowers do it Backwards" coffee mug with her fifth cup of the day when she felt a small hand grip her arm. She glanced down at the hand in surprise then followed the hand up the arm and to the face smiling at her. It was Gen, and she was smirking at the coffee mug.

"Sorry I didn't get back to you," Gen said softly. "I had a student cheat on a quiz so I had to take care of that. Dinner at your place sounds great. Can I bring anything?"

Jules was in so much shock that she forgot how to talk for a minute. She blinked and realized she needed to say something. "Um ... well, do you like salmon?"

"I do."

"Okay, then that's what I'll fix. So, if you wanted to bring some wine or dessert, that would be fine, but you don't have to."

"I'll bring both." Gen smiled up at Jules and took the coffee pot out of her hand, filling her own cup.

"Great. Does seven work for you?"

"It does." The warning bell rang and both women looked up at the clock. "I'd better go," Gen said, "I have a class. You?"

"I have a planning period. I'll email you my address and phone number before I head out."

"Great, see you tonight."

Jules stood rooted to the spot watching Gen walk away.

"You certainly don't stray far from type, Julianna," a voice hissed bitterly from Jules' left. She looked over and saw Angie, her ex, sitting at one of the tables going over essays.

She took in the tiny blonde woman's scowl and smirked. "No, I guess I don't." Jules knew she should tell Angie that she wasn't dating Gen. But, since Angie was the one who cheated on her, she was hesitant to say anything. Then, the look on Gen's face when people started assuming she was gay flashed through her imagination and she sighed. "We're not dating, Angie. If I were seeing someone here, I would do you the courtesy of telling you. Not that I owe you a damn thing."