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1 Month Later
Rory didn't know what she was doing as she walked into the little cafe in the French Quarter again. A few other patrons glanced at her as she settled into a seat at the bar. Her long hair was in a messy bun with sweaty, curly tendrils spilling out, but she had a smile on her face as a familiar woman appeared in front of her.
"Fourth time this week, sweetie," Jane-Anne chuckled. "The usual?"
"If you please, these beignets are to die for," Rory murmured with colored cheeks. "And a bowl of gumbo as well." She was feeling more than peckish, spending night by night in cheap motels wasn't the best experience, but she managed well enough.
The young woman who just sat down in the free stool beside Rory nodded in agreement. "I'm obsessed with the gumbo, Jane-Anne," she sighed with a hand at her chin, her green eyes twinkling in mirth.
Jane-Anne grinned widely at the pair. "The old ladies in the ninth ward say my sister Sophie bleeds a piece of her soul into every dish," she said, looking in the direction of a dark haired young woman—Sophie—in the kitchen, before leaving the two strangers to talk.
"You again," Rory nodded to the brunette beside her with an amused smile. "I'm guessing neither of us knows any other place to eat authentic gumbo for a reasonable price or that we both came to the obvious conclusion that this is the best one around."
It was their third time seeing each other in the cafe—Rory was always observant of her surroundings—but this was the first time Rory sought out a conversation. The girl seemed like nice company and Rory was at wit's ends with her fail of a quest.
"Hey," The pretty brunette wiggled her fingers as she shifted to face Rory with a small smile. "You'd be correct on both accounts. I'm Hayley."
"Rory. You're not from here either," Rory noted, recognizing the same exasperated spirit within the girl. "What are you doing in New Orleans?" she thought to ask.
The brunette shrugged casually, "Looking for family, you?"
"Same," Rory laughed with a shake of her head, messing around with the paper of her straw. "Trying to make amends with my piece of shit father."
It was strange how Tom Aden had strangely disappeared without any warning. Rory had arrived at his previous address in San Antonio only to find out from his new wife, Elizabeth, that he had never returned home after a business trip to North Carolina a few weeks after Rory and Stella moved to Forks. She had been tracing his last steps via his phone and bank statements throughout the south east states to no luck.
