House of Blues

weekend."
    "Reed put in twelve hours on Saturday,"
said Dennis. "Sally was beginning to wonder if she had a
mother."
    Arthur smacked his lips. "Hell, she should have
gone home. Doesn't do that much anyway."
    Reed's voice was small. "I try."
    Sugar knew he didn't mean it—Reed had been more or
less running the restaurant for years; it was just the way he talked.
    " Anyway," said Reed, "you can relax
soon. It'll all be up to me."
    "God help us."
    "Know what I think I'm going to do? Have the
place painted cream—like this room, like your dining room—and put
in a lot of mirrors."
    "No, you're not. We've got a winning formula—why
mess with it?"
    "Some plants too. I'd just like to update it a
little; freshen it up."
    " You mess with Hebert's, I'll update you, young
lady."
    Far from being daunted, Reed smiled; he was just
being Arthur. "I think the wait staff is a little short too.
We've never had waitresses—I'd like to hire some women."
    "No!" It was a roar. "You don't have
waitresses in a place like Hebert's. You have waitresses at lunch
counters."
    Sugar spoke up: "Oh, Arthur, take it easy. She's
just excited. There has to be a period of adjustment, you know; when
a new person takes over."
    At his birthday party the previous Friday, Arthur had
officially announced his retirement, passing the torch to his
daughter. Since Reed had worked in the restaurant from the time she
was a teenager, had gone to Cornell to learn how to run it, had
eaten, slept, and breathed Hebert's all her life, it was her big
moment in the spotlight—the culmination of her training and her
life's work.
    "Anyway, Reed's been full of plans for three
days—the only thing is, they're different every hour."
    Reed seemed not to be listening. She said, "Daddy,
what would you think about getting a decorator in? Maybe you're
right. Maybe I shouldn't try to do it myself."
    "You're not getting any decorator in."
    Sugar had had enough. "She can do what she
Wants, Arthur. Reed's in charge now."
    "Well, I don't think she's up to the job."
    " You should have thought of that before you gave
it to her."
    " I didn't give it to her, I was just talking."
    For a moment there was a stunned silence. Dennis
broke it. "What do you mean you didn't give it to her?"
    "Can't an old man get drunk and sentimental? I
was in a real good mood about Hebert's II, and anyway, it was my
birthday."
    "Dad, are you saying you don't want me to take
over the restaurant?" Reed's voice was like
feathers—insubstantial, barely brushing the air.
    "That's what I'm saying."
    Dennis said, "Hey!" Anger shot from his
eyes.
    "But you gave me a legal document. I'm the CEO
now."
    " I want it back on my desk by tomorrow morning."
    "You can't be serious."
    "Reed, you're too immature to be running a
business. We'd be broke in two weeks with you at the helm."
    "What are you saying?"
    " I've already said it loud and clear. I was
drunk, I didn't mean it, and that paper means nothing either. I'rn
not retiring and you're not taking over."
    "You can't do this to me! You just can't play
this kind of game. To me, it isn't a game at all. All my life, I've
worked for you, and now—" She stopped and flung out both arms
as she struggled for words. One of them caught Sally's dish, on its
high-chair tray. The dish flipped onto the child's chest and fell
back onto the tray. Hot beans dripped into Sally's lap.
    She howled.
    "You idiot!" shouted Arthur. "For
Christ's sake, Reed, you don't have the sense God gave a marmoset.
Look at that poor child. Don't just stand there—get that hot food
off her before she has to be rushed to the hospital."
    Dennis reached for Sally, giving Reed a look that
said he wished he could do more. "It's okay, baby, you're all
right," he cooed, wiping at the red-brown mess with a white
linen napkin.
    "Just look at that," said Arthur. "Her
clothes are ruined." There was a curiously satisfied note in his
voice.
    Sugar went to the kitchen and plucked Reed's house
key off its hook; they lived only blocks apart and were in and out of
each other's houses constantly. Each had a key to the other's. "I'll
go get her some clean overalls."
    Sugar slipped out easily, hardly noticed. She thought
of driving, but found she really wanted to walk. It was three blocks
there and three back—about a twenty-minute walk. Daylight saving
time had kicked in, so there was plenty of time before dark.
    True, they were in the heart of the Garden District,
a high-crime area, but kids were still out playing;