"Wait, what's that?" James said. He stood up and poked into the water with his oar to draw a bottle closer to the dinghy. Then he reached in to pluck it out of the water. It was an empty bottle of rum. "He was here," James said, looking around harder. "Paul!" he screamed.
"Paul!" Beau followed.
For a moment I couldn't form his name on my lips. Then I cried out, too. "Paul, please, if you're here, answer us."
Nothing but the sound of the swamp animals could be heard. Over to the right a deer rustled through the bushes. Terror jumped into my heart, flooded my eyes.
"Just keep rowing around the pond, James," I said, and sat back, but held my torch high to the right while Beau held his to the left. The water lapped against the dinghy. There was barely a breeze and mosquitoes began to sense our presence with delight. Suddenly the round bottom of a pirogue became visible. At first it looked like an alligator, but as we drew closer, it became clear that it was Paul's canoe. No one spoke. James poked it with his oar.
"It's his, all right," he said. "Paul!"
"Over there. Is that something?" Beau asked, leaning with his torch. James turned the dinghy in the direction Beau was pointing, and I brought my torchlight to bear as well. Slumped over a large rock, his chatlin hair matted and muddied by the water, Paul lay facedown. He looked like he had dragged himself up and collapsed. James turned the dinghy so he and Beau could stand up and reach Paul's body. I started to step toward him, too, when Beau turned sharply.
"Don't!" be ordered. He seized me at the elbows to hold me back and get me to sit. "It's not pretty and he's gone," he said.
I slapped my palms over my face and screamed. My shrill cry pierced the darkest corners and shadows in the swamp, sending birds flapping, animals scurrying, and fish diving. It echoed over the water and was finally stopped by the wall of dark silence that waits out there for all of us.
The doctor said Paul's lungs were so full of water, he had no idea how Paul had managed to drag himself up the rock a few inches, much less enough to get his entire body up. There he took his last gasps and passed away. Miraculously, no alligator got to him, but the death by drowning had distorted him and Beau was right to keep me from looking.
Cypress Woods was already a house in mourning, so it just continued under the dark cloud of more grief. Servants who had cried so hard over what they thought was my death now had to find another well of tears from which to draw. Paul's sisters, especially Toby, had anticipated bad news, but were devastated nevertheless and retreated with James into the privacy of the study, while Octavious went upstairs to be with Gladys.
I felt so weak all over, my body so light, I thought I would get caught up in the wind and be carried into the night. Beau clutched my hand and put his arm around my shoulders. I leaned against him and watched them bring Paul's body up from the dock. Beau wanted us to return immediately to New Orleans. He was insistent and I had no strength to resist, no words to offer in argument. I let him lead me to our car and slumped down in the seat as he drove us away. I had cried dry that bottomless pit of tears.
When I closed my eyes, I saw Paul as a young boy riding his motor scooter up to Grandmere Catherine's front gallery. I saw the brightness in his eyes when he set them on me. Both our voices were full of excitement then. The world seemed so innocent and precious. Every color, every shape, every scent, was richer. When we were together, exploring our young feelings, we were like the first couple on earth discovering things we couldn't imagine others discovering before us. No one ever adequately explains the wonder born in your heart when you undress your new feelings in front of someone who is undressing his, too. That trust, that childhood faith, is so pure and good, you can't imagine any betrayals. Surely all the trouble and misery you know and hear about in the world around you will be walled out by these powerful new feelings woven into an
impenetrable fabric. You can make promises, expose your dreams, and dream new things together. Nothing seems impossible and the last thing you can imagine is that some malicious Fate has been toying with you, leading you down a highway that will bring you to these tragic, dark moments.
I wanted to be angry and bitter and blame someone or something else, but in the end I could think of no one to blame but myself. The weight of that guilt was so heavy, I couldn't bear it. I was crushed, defeated, and so tired, I didn't open my eyes again until Beau said we were home. I let him help me out of the car, but my legs wouldn't support me. He carried me into the house and up the stairway and lowered me to our bed, where I curled up, embraced myself, and fell unconscious.
When I woke up, Beau was already dressed. I turned, but the ache in my bones was so deep, I could barely stretch out my legs and lift myself. My head felt like it had turned to stone.
"I'm so tired," I said. "So weak."
"Stay in bed today," he advised. "I'll have Sally bring your breakfast up to the suite. I have some things I must tend to at the office and then I'll come home to be with you."
"Beau," I moaned. "It is my fault. Gladys Tate is right to hate me."
"Of course it isn't your fault. You didn't break any promises, and anything he did, he did willingly, knowing what the consequences might be. If it's anyone's fault, it's mine. I shouldn't have let him become so involved. I should have forced you to make a clean, clear break with him so he would have realized he should go on with his life and not mourn over things that couldn't be, that weren't supposed to be.
"But, Ruby," Beau said, coming to my side and taking my hand in his, "we are meant to be. No two people could love each other as much as we do and not be meant to be. That is the faith you must have, the faith you must cling to when you mourn Paul. If we fail each other now, then everything he did was even more in vain.
"Somewhere, deep inside himself, he must have also realized you belonged with me. Maybe he couldn't face that in the end and maybe it
overwhelmed him, but he did realize it as a greater truth and a greater reality.
"We must hold on to what we now have. I love you," he said, and kissed me softly on the lips. He lowered his head to my bosom and I held him against me for a long moment before he rose, took a deep breath, and smiled. "I'll send Sally around and then tell Mrs. Ferrier to bring Pearl in later, okay?"
"Yes, Beau. Whatever you say. I can't think for myself anymore."
"That's all right. Ill think for the two of us." He threw me a kiss and left.
I gazed out the window. The sky was overcast, but the clouds looked light and thin. There would be hazy sunshine and the day would be hot and muggy. After breakfast, I would take a bath and get back on my feet. The prospect of attending Paul's funeral seemed over-whelming to me now. I couldn't imagine mustering the strength, but as it turned out, that was to be the least of my problems.
Late in the morning, after I had had some breakfast and taken my bath, I brushed out my hair and dressed myself. Mrs. Ferrier brought Pearl in to watch and I let her play with my brushes and combs. She sat beside me, mimicking my every move. Her hair had grown down to her shoulders and it was turning a brighter, richer golden shade every day. Her blue eyes were full of curiosity. As soon as she learned what one thing was, she was asking about another, touching something else. Her bountiful energy and excitement brought some joy and relief to my aching heart. How lucky I was to have her, I thought. I was determined to devote myself to her, to make certain that her life was smoother, happier, and fuller than mine. I would protect her, advise her, guide her, so she would avoid the pitfalls and treacherous turns I had taken. It was in our children, I realized, that our hope and purpose lay. They were the promise and the only real antidote for grief.
Beau called to say he would be home shortly. Mrs. Ferrier took Pearl out to play in the garden, and I decided to go down so that Beau and I could have lunch on the patio when he returned. I had just rounded the base of the stairway when the phones rang. Aubrey announced it was Toby Tate and I hurried to a receiver.
"Toby," I cried. "I'm sorry we left so quickly, but
--"
"No one was concerned here about that," she said coldly. "I'm certainly not calling to complain about your behavior. Frankly, I can't imagine any of us caring." The hard, formal tone in her voice set my heart racing. "In fact, Mother forced me to call to tell you she would rather you don't attend Paul's funeral."
"Not attend? But--"
"We're sending a car with a nanny we're hiring to pick up Pearl and bring her home," she added finnly. "What?"
"Mother says Paul and Ruby's daughter belongs with her grandpere and grandmere and not with her self-centered aunt, so your obligations, your promises, are all over. You can go back to your life of pleasure and not worry. Those were Mother's exact words. Please have Pearl ready by three o'clock."
My throat wouldn't open to let me form any words. I couldn't swallow. My heart felt as if it had slid down into my stomach and a wave of heat rose from the base of my spine to the base of my head, where it circled around my neck like the long, thin fingers of a witch, choking me.
"Do you understand?" Toby demanded.
"You . . ."
"Yes?"
"Can't. . take. . . Pearl," I said. I fought to open my lungs and suck in some air. "Your mother knows you can't."
"What sort of nonsense is this? Of course we can. Don't you think a grandmere has more claim to a grandchild than an aunt?"
"No!" I shouted. "I won't let you take Pearl."
"I don't see where you have much to say about it, Gisselle. I hope you won't add any unpleasantness and ugliness to our tragedy right now. If there is anyone left out there who doesn't despise you, he or she will soon do just that."
"Your mother knows she can't do this. She knows. Tell her. Tell her!" I screamed.
"Well, tell her what you said, but the car will be there at three o'clock. Good-bye," Toby snapped and the phone went dead.
"No!" I screamed into the receiver anyway. I quickly hung up and then lifted the receiver to dial Beau.
"I'm coming right home," he said after I gasped and poured out what Toby had told me Gladys Tate demanded.
"This is what she meant by my suffering twice as much as Paul, Beau. This is her way of getting vengeance."
"Stay calm.Ill be right there," he said.
I hung up, but I couldn't stay calm. I went into the study and paced back and forth, my mind reeling with the possibilities. It seemed hours before Beau finally arrived, even though it was only a few minutes. He came rushing into the study to embrace me and sit me down. I couldn't stop trembling. My teeth were actually chattering.
"It's going to be all right," he assured me. "She's bluffing. She's just trying to upset you because she is so upset right now. She'll realize what she's doing and she'll stop it."
"But, Beau . . everyone thinks I'm Gisselle. They buried me!"
"It'll be fine," he said, but not with as much confidence as before.
"We were born in the swamps in a shack. It's not like here in New Orleans in a hospital where babies' footprints are taken so they can be easily identified later. Paul was my husband and he told the world I was sick and dying. He attended my funeral and killed himself, whether purposely or accidentally, because of my death," I rattled, each realization like another nail in the coffin of truth. I seized Beau's hands in mine and fixed my eyes on his.
"You yourself said that I've done such a good job of pretending to be Gisselle, everyone thinks I am. Even your parents!"
"If it comes down to whether or not we keep Pearl, we'll confess the truth and tell the authorities what we have done. I promise," he said. "No one will take our child from us. No one. Especially not Gladys Tate," he assured me. He squeezed my hands and made his face tight with determination. It slowed down my runaway heart and eased some of my trepidation.
"Toby said a car is arriving here at three with a nurse."
"I'll handle it," he said. "Don't you even come near the front door."
I nodded. "Pearl," I said suddenly. "Where is she?"
"Take it easy. Where could she be but with Mrs. Ferrier? Don't frighten her," he warned, seizing my wrist. "Ruby."
"Yes, you're right. I mustn't frighten the child. But I want her upstairs now. I don't want her outside when they come."
"All right, but do it gently, calmly," he ordered. "Will you?"
"I will." I took a deep breath and went out to find Mrs. Ferrier and Pearl. Without going into any detail why, I asked her to bring the baby in and keep her up in her room. Then I went to join Beau in the dining room, but not only couldn't I eat any lunch with Beau, I couldn't bring a morsel of food near my lips. I could barely swallow water. My stomach was that nervous. A little after two, he told me to go upstairs and stay with Pearl and Mrs. Ferrier. My heart was thumping madly. I thought I could easily pass out from fear, but I fought down my trepidation and occupied myself with Pearl.
Just before three o'clock, I heard the door chimes and my heart jumped in my chest. I couldn't keep myself from going to the top of the stairway and listening. Beau had already told Aubrey he would answer the door. I didn't want Beau to know I was looking and listening in, so I backed into the shadows when he turned and looked up the stairway just before opening the door.
A man in a suit and a nurse in uniform were there.
"Yes?" Beau said as nonchalantly as he could.
"My name is Martin Bell," the man in the suit said. "I am an attorney representing the Tates. We have been sent by Monsieur and Madame Tate to pick up their granddaughter," he said.
"Their granddaughter is not going anywhere today or any day," Beau said firmly. "She is home where she belongs and where she will stay."
"Are you refusing to turn their granddaughter over to them?" Martin Bell asked with some astonishment. Apparently he had been led to believe this was a simple assignment. He probably thought he was making easy money.
"I am refusing to turn our daughter over to them, yes," Beau said.
"Pardon. Your daughter? I'm confused here," Martin Bell said, glancing at the nurse, who looked just as confused. "Is the little girl the daughter of Paul and Ruby Tate?"
"No," Beau said, "and Gladys Tate knows that. I'm afraid she's wasted your time, but be sure you bill for it," Beau added. "Good day," he said, and closed the door on their bewildered faces. For a moment he stood there waiting. Then he went to the window and gazed out to be sure they drove away. When he turned, he saw me standing at the top of the stairway.
"Were you there the whole time?" he asked.
"Yes, Beau."
"So you heard. I did what I promised. I told the truth and I've sent them back. When Gladys hears what I said, she'll back off and leave us alone," he assured me. "Relax. It's over. It's all over."
I nodded and smiled hopefully. Beau came up the stairs to embrace me. Then the two of us went to look in on Pearl. She was sitting contentedly on the floor of what had once been my room and coloring animals in a coloring book called "A Visit to the Zoo."
"Look, Mommy." She pointed and then growled like a tiger. Mrs. Ferrier laughed.
"She imitates all the animals," she said. "I've never seen such a good little mimic."
Beau tightened his embrace around my shoulders and I leaned against him. It felt good to be surrounded by his strength and feel his firmness. He was my rock now, my pillar of steel, and it deepened my love for him and filled me with confidence. Gradually, as the day wore on, my nervousnessdiminished and my stomach stabilized. I realized I was ravishingly hungry when we sat down at dinner.
Later that night in bed, we talked for nearly an hour before closing our eyes.
"I regret not being able to go to Paul's funeral," I said.
"I know, but under the circumstances, it's better that we don't attend. Gladys Tate would only make an unpleasant situation even more miserable. She would create an ugly scene."
"Even so, someday after sufficient time has passed, I would like to visit the grave, Beau."
"Of course."
We talked on, Beau suggesting plans for the future now.
"If we want, we can build a new house on a piece of real estate we own just outside of the city."
"Maybe we should," I said.
"Of course, there are things we could do to this house to change it as well. In either case, we'll want new memories," he explained. I couldn't agree more. His descriptions of what was possible for us now filled me with renewed hope and I was able to shut my eyelids and drift off, emotionally exhausted and tired down to my very soul.
I wasn't refreshed when I woke in the morning, but I had regained enough strength to start a new day. I made plans to begin painting again and I thought I would start to buy a new wardrobe, one that fit my personality more. Now that I had driven away all of Gisselle's friends and we were talking about a new beginning, I thought I had the freedom to ease back into my true self and eventually put Gisselle to rest. Those prospects buoyed me.
We had a good breakfast with an animated conversation. Beau had so many plans for business and for our changes, my mind felt stuffed. I could see where we would both become so busy shortly, there wouldn't be much time to dwell on sadness. Grandmere Catherine always said that the only real antidote for grief and sadness was busy hands.
After breakfast Beau went upstairs to the bathroom and I went into the kitchen to talk to Mrs. Swann about dinner. I sat listening to her describe how to prepare chicken Rochambeau.
"You start with preparing the gravy," she began, and went through the ingredients. Just listening to her talk about the recipe made my mouth water. How lucky we were to have a cook with so much experience, I thought.
Mrs. Swann was clanking dishes and pans as she spoke and walked around the kitchen, so I didn't hear the door chimes and was surprised when Aubrey arrived to tell me there were two gentlemen at the door.
"And there's a policeman, too," he added.
"What? Policeman?"
"Yes, madame."
My chest felt hot and heavy as I rose.
All That Glitters Page 28
