Exhausted after the ghostly reunion and staying up till dawn at Gisele’s gorgeous home in the Garden District, Mitchell and I wander back to our separate beds in the hotel suite. We sleep till late afternoon, then drag Jude from beneath the sheets for a Mardi Gras parade before he leaves tomorrow. Regretting the drunken evening, Jude creeps into the shower groggy with a massive headache, lamenting his excessive drinking. He emerges from the bath with a crazy idea for the Krewe of Muses parade, believing it was Stacy who wanted the coveted parade throw.
“No, it was Bleu, remember? She was with us at breakfast, not Stacy,” I say, recalling her words at Roux on Orleans. Hmm… Then maybe I’ll wear a costume worthy of the krewes’ approval… Any costume shops on Royal Street?
Hmm… Then maybe I’l
