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  Virgil dropped his bag next to the piano, and sheets of music spilled out onto the floor. He sat down and began to play quietly, despite having just spent the entire evening performing.

  “Wow, this place is awesome!” Alfie said.

  “Yeah,” Emilia agreed. “It’s so pretty. And so big!”

  “We’re a big family,” said Rex. “Mama Minnie lived here with us. This kitchen was her pride and joy. Now I can barely keep everybody’s music out of here.”

  Alfie could see what Rex meant. Instrument parts, music stands, band flyers, and sheet music were scattered everywhere. “Who cooks in here now?”

  “Our parents cook when we’re not eating at the club,” Rex said. “And whatever I can remember from Mama Minnie’s recipes I try to re-create here. It’s hard, though. She was just such a natural.”

  Virgil appeared in the doorway. “Okay, you two and you two,” he said, gesturing to Teddy, Nanette, Alfie, and Emilia. “Time for bed.”

  “But they just got here,” Teddy argued.

  “You can show them everything tomorrow,” Virgil said, looking tired. “For now, get them settled in the extra room and make sure they have everything they need.”

  “Thanks for letting us stay,” Alfie said.

  “No worries,” said Virgil.

  “Come on, I’ll show you up,” Teddy said, leading the way upstairs with Nanette right behind him.

  Teddy took them down a long hall to a room at the end. Alfie studied the walls of the hallway as they walked. They were covered in family portraits as well as pictures of the kids and their parents playing onstage in front of huge crowds.

  Their room had a window in the center with twin beds on either side. Each bed had a thick quilt across it. Nanette reappeared with a pile of stuff. “Here are some T-shirts and shorts you can wear to bed. And some clothes for tomorrow that should fit.”

  “Thanks,” Emilia said, taking the pile.

  “See you in the morning,” Teddy said.

  Alfie closed the door behind Teddy and flopped down on the bed facing Emilia. He grinned as the soft sound of Virgil’s piano playing floated up to the room. “Here we go again,” he said.

  Alfie woke up to sunlight streaming through the thin curtains. Emilia’s bed was empty, and he heard voices downstairs. Music from the piano still hung in the air, as if Virgil hadn’t stopped playing all night. More importantly, Alfie smelled breakfast cooking. He quickly dressed in the clothes Nanette had given him: a pair of jeans, a short-sleeved button-down shirt, a bow tie, and a funny flat-topped straw hat. Luckily, he’d learned to tie a bow tie for their uncle’s wedding last year. He felt a little silly putting on it and the hat, but he didn’t want to disappoint Nanette.

  “Good morning,” Alfie said as his foot touched the bottom step.

  “Good morning, little man.” Virgil glanced up from the piano.

  “Did you play all night?” Alfie asked, only half joking.

  “Nah, I just got up,” he said. “I’m working on a new song for the band.”

  “Well, I like what I’ve heard so far,” Alfie told him before he headed into the kitchen.

  Rex and Emilia were at the stove. Rex whisked something in a heavy-bottomed pot. Emilia stirred scrambled eggs in a pan over low heat while keeping an eye on sausage frying in another pan. Emilia wore a red shirt, rolled-up jeans, and a hair band with a matching bright red flower on it.

  “You’re just in time,” said Rex. “Breakfast is almost ready.” He removed the pot from the burner, added some butter, and continued stirring.

  “Good, we’re starving!” Teddy and Nanette hurried into the kitchen.

  Alfie watched Rex as he worked. “Seems like you know what you’re doing in the kitchen,” he told Rex.

  “Making eggs and grits isn’t cooking. Not really,” Rex said. He added a handful of grated cheese to the pot. “I think we were all born knowing how to cook this. Too easy.”

  “I think the eggs are ready,” Emilia said, turning off her burner. “And the sausage, too.”

  “Perfect timing,” Rex said. “A little more cheese and the grits should be good to go. Everyone get a plate!”

  Virgil and Jules appeared at the edge of the kitchen counter.

  Alfie grabbed a stack of plates from on top of a bunch of Jazz Fest flyers and handed them out to everyone. He added a scoop each of eggs and grits to his plate and picked up a piece of sausage. The sausage looked like the andouille they’d used in the gumbo. It was quickly becoming one of Alfie’s favorites. “I’ve never had grits before,” he said as he moved over to the big dining-room table to sit down.

  “You’re going to love them,” Rex said. “They’re ground cornmeal with a good helping of butter and cheese.”

  “Everything tastes better with butter and cheese, if you ask me,” Teddy said, taking a seat next to Alfie.

  Alfie took a bite. The grits were super buttery and creamy, and the cheese gave them an extra bit of rich flavor. “Wow,” he said, scooping up another forkful. “They’re so good.”

  “The grits go perfectly with the eggs and sausage,” Emilia added.

  “Yeah, nice work,” Jules said, shoving a big bite into his mouth.

  Alfie looked around the room as he ate his delicious breakfast. “You have a lot of pictures,” he remarked, noticing even more in the morning light than he had the night before.

  “Yeah,” said Teddy. “Mom and Dad love having lots of memories all around us. Mom says that way we can see how great a life we’re living and not take anything for granted.”

  “Plus it’s fun to see things they did before we were born,” said Nanette. “Like that picture over there of them playing for the president back in the day.” Nanette motioned to a framed photo on the open center shelf of the china cabinet.

  Alfie got up and walked over to get a closer look. He picked up the frame. In the photo, their mom stood smiling and holding a microphone while their dad held his drumsticks and shook the former president’s hand.

  “That’s so cool!” Alfie said. He was just about to set the photo down when something slid out of the back of the frame and onto the floor. It was another photo—a black-and-white one, even older than the one in the frame. Alfie picked up the picture. Two women were posed side by side, smiling. “What’s this?” he asked.

  Nanette got a curious look on her face. “Not sure. Pass it here for a second.” Nanette took the photo and her eyes widened in surprise. “That’s our Mama Minnie when she was young! I’ve never seen this picture before. Guys, look at this!”

  Rex, Virgil, Jules, and Teddy all gathered around Nanette at the table. They peered down at the photograph.

  “She’s so young!” Teddy said. “Who’s that standing next to her?”

  Virgil took the photo from Nanette. “I don’t know who that other woman is,” he said. “But it looks like they’re standing in front of Mr. Picard’s grocery.”

  Jules peered over Virgil’s shoulder. “What’s she holding in her hand? Does that say ‘cookbook’ on the front?”

  Rex grabbed the photo from Virgil and studied it closely. “I think it does!”

  “No way,” Teddy said. “Let me see.”

  Rex passed him the photo. “Hey, it does.”

  “Told’ya,” Rex said.

  “But whose cookbook?” Teddy asked.

  “Probably your Mama Minnie’s, right?” Emilia asked.

  “But I thought she never wrote anything down,” Rex said. “And she never said anything about a cookbook.”

  “It could be the other woman’s recipes,” Virgil said. “People always wanted to have their picture taken with Mama Minnie.”

  “That grocery store is still around,” Jules added. “It’s over on Basin Street in the French Quarter. I remember meeting Mr. Picard years ago.”

  “We could go!
” Teddy said. “Let’s go see Mr. Picard!”

  “And then what?” Virgil asked. “What if Mr. Picard’s not around anymore?”

  Teddy shrugged. “Maybe he knows who this other woman is. And maybe that woman knows if Mama Minnie had a recipe book.”

  “Just think,” Emilia said. “If you had Mama Minnie’s recipes, you could use them again in this great big kitchen.”

  “And at La Salle Royale,” Alfie added, feeling excited.

  “True,” Virgil said thoughtfully.

  “We have to go to the market and talk to Mr. Picard!” Teddy said. “If we can find out who that woman is, maybe we can talk to her. Even if she doesn’t know about the cookbook, maybe she can tell us stories about Mama Minnie. I’d be happy with that.”

  Virgil’s face softened. Alfie could see that they all missed their grandmother very much. “Okay,” Virgil said. “Go talk to Mr. Picard. I guess it can’t hurt.”

  “Yes!” Teddy cheered. “Come on, Alfie and Emilia, let’s get going!” Alfie felt a rush of excitement along with him.

  “I’m coming, too!” Nanette said, pushing back from her chair.

  “Make sure you’re back in time for us to head to the club together,” Virgil said. “And don’t forget, Theodore—it’s your turn to pick up dinner. You got money?”

  “Yep!” Teddy patted his pants pocket.

  Rex started cleaning up.

  Teddy already was racing toward the front door with Nanette behind him, grabbing her hat as she went.

  “And make sure Alfie and Emilia’s aunt doesn’t mind!” Virgil called out after them.

  Aunt, schmant, Alfie thought. They had a mystery to solve!

  The foursome headed out the door. The late-morning sun was already bright and hot.

  “Y’all are lucky Jazz Fest is in the spring and not the summer,” Nanette said. “It gets even hotter and more humid in July and August.”

  Alfie thought it was pretty hot already, and he could definitely feel a stickiness in the air as they walked. He got a better sense of the neighborhood seeing it in the light of day. The La Salle house was one of a few big two-story homes; most were long one-story houses. Some were painted fun, bright colors like purple or blue. And almost all of them had porches where some people sat outside drinking coffee, enjoying their morning.

  Soon they were back in the French Quarter with its elegant buildings and fancy balconies. Bright flowers hung from pots below the balconies and swayed in the breeze.

  “Let’s walk into the park for a minute,” Nanette said.

  They crossed Rampart Street and headed through a lightbulb-covered arch into Louis Armstrong Park.

  “Maybe you already learned this from your school tour, but Louis Armstrong is, like, the most famous musician ever born or raised in New Orleans,” Teddy said proudly. “He played the trumpet, just like me.”

  “And Congo Square,” Nanette said, motioning to their left, “is where Jazz Fest first started when our parents were young. It was called Beauregard Square back then.”

  “And your parents taught you all to play?” Alfie asked.

  “Yep,” said Teddy. “It was pretty easy to pick up—we grew up surrounded by music with our parents and their friends. Learning to read and play music was as normal as learning to read a book.”

  “Music and food—that’s what we’ve grown up on,” Nanette added. “I remember Mama Minnie cooking up fried chicken and biscuits while Mom and Dad played in the living room. The smells and sounds just filled up the house.”

  Alfie smiled. He thought about how nice it had been to have Zia Donatella’s cooking fill their house with yummy smells, too. As much as he used to love pizza from Presto Pesto, it just didn’t smell the same as Zia’s cooking.

  They wove through the park and walked out onto Basin Street. A few blocks later, Alfie spotted Picard’s Produce and More. Stands filled with colorful rows of fruits and vegetables stood outside on the sidewalk.

  “Let’s hope Mr. Picard is here,” Teddy said.

  “And that he knows something about Mama Minnie or the other woman in the picture,” Nanette added.

  The door chimed when Teddy pulled it open. Inside, there were even more rows of fruits and veggies lining the walls. And in front stood giant barrels full of more kinds of nuts than Alfie had ever seen.

  “Hello!” A voice called from the back of the store. “Be right there!” Alfie couldn’t see anyone past the tightly packed shelves.

  A man made his way up the narrow aisle, pushing aside a box as he went. “Anything I can help you with?” he asked. He was old, but he looked strong—probably from moving all those big barrels around every day, Alfie thought

  “Actually, we’re looking for Mr. Picard,” Teddy said.

  The man strolled around to the other side of the front counter. “Well, you found him!” he said. “What can I do for ya?”

  “We were hoping you might be able to help us,” Teddy said, stepping forward and sliding the photograph across the counter. “Do you know this woman?”

  As soon as he picked up the photo, happiness spread across his wrinkled face. “Well, look at that! Miss Minnie La Salle!”

  “You knew Mama Minnie?” Nanette asked.

  “Sure I did!” Mr. Picard said. “She used to come in here every week when she was a young ’un to buy pecans. And you must be her grandchildren.” He motioned to the La Salle kids.

  “I’m Nanette, and this is Teddy,” she said.

  Mr. Picard looked pleased to see them. “Minnie used to bring Virgil and Julian in here when they were young. And now they’re all grown up! And I’ve seen y’all play at La Salle Royale! Such a talented family.” The pleasure faded from Mr. Picard’s face. “Just hasn’t been the same down there without Minnie and her cooking, though, has it?”

  “No, sir,” Teddy said.

  “We were hoping you might know the other woman in the photograph?” Nanette asked hopefully.

  Mr. Picard looked at the picture again. “Hmmm. Can’t say that I do. Hazards of old age, I guess.” He handed the picture back to Teddy. “Sorry I can’t be more help.”

  Teddy’s shoulders dropped. He held the photo with both hands, his eyes resting heavy on it. Alfie touched his shoulder and said, “Hey, don’t worry. We’ll figure something out.” To Mr. Picard, Alfie said, “Is there anything else you can tell us about Mama Minnie?”

  Mr. Picard scratched his chin. “Goodness,” he said. “I just always thought her name suited her well. She was such a tiny woman. But she had a laugh that was bigger than this room!”

  Teddy and Nanette smiled. Alfie could see they liked hearing this about their grandmother.

  “And I sure do miss the pralines she sold over at Julianne’s Candy,” Mr. Picard added. “That’s what she bought the pecans for. We had a little deal—I’d give her a discount on the pecans, and she’d bring me a few of those pralines. Best in the city!”

  “I didn’t know she used to sell pralines,” Nanette said to Teddy. “Did you?”

  Teddy shook his head. “Is Julianne’s still around?”

  “Of course,” Mr. Picard said. “Been around since 1913, and it isn’t going anywhere, not if the people of New Orleans have anything to say about it. It’s over on St. Philip Street, close to Decatur.”

  “We have to go there!” Emilia said. “Maybe they know something.”

  “For sure!” Nanette agreed.

  “So what are we waiting for?” Alfie said, eager to follow the next clue in their mystery.

  “Thank you for your help, Mr. Picard,” Teddy said.

  “You’re very welcome. Stop by anytime. Minnie’s family is always welcome here!”

  They headed back out to the street. Alfie was excited. He felt like a real live detective. “That was amazing!” he said. “Even though he doesn’t know who the other w
oman is, he knew lots of stuff about your grandma!”

  “Yeah!” Nanette agreed. “I never knew Mama Minnie sold her pralines.”

  “And maybe if Mr. Picard is still around, Julianne is, too!” Alfie said.

  “He said Julianne’s Candy has been around since 1913,” Emilia said. “I doubt she’s still alive.”

  “Still,” Alfie said, refusing to lose hope so early in the hunt. “Someone might know something.”

  “Let’s walk down to the river,” Teddy said. “We can cut across to Decatur and get some beignets on the way. You had beignets yet?” he asked Alfie and Emilia.

  They both shook their heads.

  “I can’t believe it! What did you eat during your school trip, because it sure doesn’t sound like it was New Orleans food!”

  Alfie and Emilia gladly followed their hosts through the city streets. Alfie took note of the street names as they walked. He liked getting familiar with his surroundings. He would have no trouble finding his way through New Orleans alone—all the streets were in a grid pattern.

  Soon they were looking out at the Mississippi River. A man in sunglasses and a fedora similar to Nanette’s sat in a folding chair and played the saxophone for people walking down by the river. Behind him a riverboat cruised through the water with a wheel turning at the back.

  “That’s the kind of boat our parents are on,” Teddy noted. “Some of them just cruise around the city, and some go all the way up the Mississippi to St. Louis and even Minneapolis.”

  “It’s one of the biggest rivers in the world,” Alfie added, thinking about the maps peppering the walls of his room back home.

  “Here we are,” Teddy said. They were at a small café that looked like it served only one thing besides coffee—fresh, square powdered doughnuts.

  “These are beignets,” Nanette told Alfie and Emilia. “They’re like doughnuts, but a little different. A New Orleans must-have. Come on, let’s get some.”