As the sun falls behind the Sacramento skyline, the new restaurant belle fleur opens its wooden fence gates.
Its been a long day for Alcée thus far. Having sent his help out to hang fliers he was left to get the restaurant in order before opening, and it was a crazy mess up until the very last second. Now, with the gates open, Alcée could sit at one of the white, wire framed, outdoor tables and try to relax. Still, all he could do was worry. He worried that the plants weren't ready for show even though the long shadows that were falling on the vine covered fences. The plants, Confederate Jasmine, grew every where; up the small building that housed the indoor seating and kitchen, all over the fences, twisting around booths and gazebos but Alcée could see their flaws - patches where the vines were fully grown in particular. His ability with plants may make the sprout at a whisper or a touch but it could speed the hands of time. The ends of the vines slowly curl and twist, a new green leaf or small un-blossomed bud at their tip.
and where the hell's that drink?
"It looks beautiful," a familiar voice says to him from behind his seat in the court yard. It was Esther - his friend and help, returned from her duty of hanging fliers. The big woman puts a hand on Alcée's shoulder while she takes in the true loveliness of the restaurant; white flowers in bloom on long vines, booths and tables glowing with little lit candles, and white lights strung through the tree branches above. Esther could hardly believe that she was so far from home with all these Confederate flowers in bloom around her.
Alcée smiles at his friend, she could see beauty where he saw only worry and concern, and just as he does she hands him the drink he asked the bartender for at least thirty minutes ago.
she's always taking up the slack, he thought, watching Esther walk away cooing over every little detail.
The Flowering Fairest takes a drink from his straight brandy and ice and it makes the vines on back of his neck twist and curl in revolt. He wears his finest white suit, silk gray undershirt, matching white tie, and black leather loafers. Long vines hang on him just as they do in all over the fences in the courtyard and they are all in bloom with whitish-yellow flowers.
Taking this quiet minute before the guests arrive to think of home Alcée scolds himself for leaving Louisiana at such a critical time. At home the coastal plants and sea-life are being choked out by deadly black oil and here he is; partying in California. A few blooms wilt and fall out of his flowering hair at the sad thought; one even floats into his drink but he ignores it and takes another harsh swig of the fiery liquid.
As the first guest arrives Alcée Laballière stands, pushing back all the negativity and bringing forth a big warm smile. "Welcome," he says in his smooth deep accented voice, "please, enjoy yourselves!"
Check the link above for pictures and a better description of the establishment