We went in the bar and there was a long table the length of the room with newspaper on it and small piles of cooked crawfish. The bartender waved us to a couple of seats and said, "Hey! Ya'll grab a seat and help yourselves." He came over and set two Dixie beers in front of us and took our $20. We stayed there for an hour eating crawfish and small corn on the cobs and washing it all down with a couple of beers.This was definitely the find of the day. We figured there were other places like this but because we found it, it was special to us and probably tasted better than any other place that we could have been directed to.After our impromptu late lunch, we continued on our way to the French Quarter. We enjoyed walking around and looking at the street performers and listening to the jazz that came from the various bars, some famous and some not so famous. The atmosphere was the thing though. Regardless of the quality, there was a large quantity of music and everyone was just enjoying. Though his face was blank, he radiated heat and angry disappointment. ‘That’s fine, Miss Makena. No dinner then. How about lunch?’ Makena opened her mouth, ready to attack or be attacked. ‘Actually,’ said a soothingly deep Southern voice from the hall,’ Makena has lunch plans.’ Marcus walked up to the doorway with Annalynne in tow, wrapping his arm around her silk covered waist and kissed her cheek. ‘Miss Kena! Miss Kena!’ Anna ran from her father’s hand and hugged Makena’s legs. ‘Hi! I missed you!’ Makena rubbed Anna’s back. ‘Hi, Sweetie. I missed you too!’ When she looked back at the two men, she was taken aback. The two men were politely giving each other murderous looks. Makena cleared her throat. ‘Marcus, Honey, this is Johnathis Francois the illustrator I was telling you about. Mr. Francois, this is my boyfriend, Marcus Chatham and his daughter Annalynne.’ Anna shyly waved. ‘Hello, Mr. Francois,’ she murmured. John politely waved back. ‘Hello, Miss Anna,’ he said. That kid.
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