Southern Ruby

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Southern Ruby Page 37

by Belinda Alexandra


  For a moment it was as if the world stood still. Everything Clifford had said was true. I stared out at the lake and wondered what Leroy would tell me to do if he were here. I knew the answer. There was an inherent goodness in Clifford that made me confident that whatever difficulties life brought us, our union would be strong.

  Weariness swept over me and my body felt as heavy as the anchors that kept the fishing trawlers securely moored on the lake. It was the exhaustion of having carried Maman and Mae for so long and not having had anyone to share my burdens with. What a relief it would be to spend my life with someone I could speak to sensibly and practically like an equal. Someone who truly understood me. What was the point of resisting when that person stood there in front of me, offering his comfort to help me bear the unbearable?

  ‘Ruby?’

  I looked up. Clifford had perceived the shift in my attitude and was holding his hand out to me. I stood up and pressed myself into his embrace, feeling his fingers stroke my hair. It was as if the mist that had enveloped me was lifted by his love.

  ‘So will you marry me, Ruby?’ he asked.

  I embraced him more fiercely but didn’t speak for a few minutes. When I did, I said, ‘Yes, Clifford, I’ll marry you. But I’ll never deserve you.’

  Clifford insisted that we get married straight away, for my sake.

  ‘You’re too alone, and you’ve carried far too much for too long,’ he told me. ‘Let me take up the mantle. I won’t make any demands of you. All I want you to do is concentrate on restoring your peace of mind.’

  Maman, Kitty and Mrs Lalande — Helen — delighted in the matrimonial preparations and I was happy to leave them to organise everything. I watched in a trance as Maman and Mae spent hours beading my wedding dress, and Kitty directed their gardener, Ned, to decorate the summerhouse with pots of white azaleas, roses and chrysanthemums. Even when the baker delivered the cake, trimmed with silver leaves and hearts, I stared at the bride and groom on top and couldn’t believe that I was actually getting married.

  On the day of the ceremony, Maman, Kitty and Helen, along with Mae, helped me prepare in the bedroom that Clifford and I were to share in the Lalande home. Their excited chatter was like a hundred bells ringing in my head.

  ‘The guests are already arriving — we’d better hurry,’ said Helen. ‘Even people who haven’t spoken to us for years are showing up. All the tongues are wagging and everyone is keen to see the beautiful French Creole Clifford is marrying!’

  ‘Your dress is divine!’ gushed Kitty, taking the organza cover off the white tulle and satin gown. Indeed, the dress was stunning with its princess-style bodice and pearl-beaded flowers. It made me think of the magnificent dresses Orry-Kelly had made for me as Jewel and I had to turn away from it.

  I glanced at Maman, who was looking as radiantly happy as if she were the bride and this was her wedding day. Her champagne-pink silk dress flattered her complexion and her eyes danced with joy. She truly believed that Clifford and I had created the perfect Cinderella story, with no idea of all the torment that was behind it. But perhaps it was better that she had been spared any anguish.

  ‘Look at these beautiful lilies the Galafates sent you,’ said Helen, placing the bouquet in a crystal vase and putting it on the dressing table, where I was sitting while Mae styled my hair.

  The honey-like sweetness of the blooms conjured up a memory of Leroy’s casket surrounded by flowers. I tried to apply my powder to calm myself, but I saw Jewel’s despairing reflection staring back at me. Tears ran down my cheeks.

  ‘Time to get into your dress, Miss Ruby,’ said Mae, taking the gown from its hanger. ‘Unless you want to get married in your petticoat.’

  She caught sight of my face and gasped. The other women gathered around me.

  ‘Ruby!’ cried Kitty. ‘What’s the matter?’

  I couldn’t answer them. My heart was beating erratically and I found it difficult to breathe. I thought I might black out so I got up from the chair and stumbled to the bed, sobbing as I lay down on it.

  ‘My heavenly days!’ exclaimed Helen. ‘Are you all right, sweetheart?’

  Maman sat down next to me and stroked my back. ‘It’s bride’s nerves, that’s all. I had them on my wedding day.’

  ‘I’ve never seen her like this,’ said Mae, squinting. ‘She’s normally got nerves of steel.’

  Maman dispatched Mae to the kitchen to ask Philomena to make some camomile tea for me. Kitty doused a handkerchief in lavender water and placed it on my burning forehead.

  ‘Good Lord, she needs something stronger than that,’ said Helen. She left the room and returned a minute later with a decanter of brandy and a glass. ‘Here, take a sip of this,’ she said.

  The liquor burned my throat. I coughed and doubled over. It was as if everything was caving inwards and my mind had shattered into a million pieces.

  Someone knocked at the door.

  ‘Is everything all right?’ I heard Eddie ask. ‘The priest is here and the guests are starting to whisper.’

  ‘You’ll only make matters worse saying things like that!’ Kitty scolded him. ‘Ruby’s had a dizzy spell, that’s all. She’ll be all right in a minute.’

  I was in a haze. It was as though I was floating around the room watching myself and thinking, That can’t be me. It was my wedding day, but I was the saddest I’d ever been.

  There was another knock at the door and it opened a crack. ‘May I see her?’ I heard Clifford ask.

  ‘No!’ Kitty cried. ‘It’s bad luck!’

  But Helen acquiesced. ‘Let’s give them a few moments together. Nothing we’ve done has made things any better.’

  Maman covered me with a blanket and, along with the other women, reluctantly left the room.

  Clifford came and sat next to me. ‘Ruby?’

  I turned to him. He looked handsome in his pale grey suit with his hair combed back from his face. Any other woman would have been blissfully happy to be marrying him. I tried to say something but ended up crying harder. He took my hand and rested my palm against his cheek.

  ‘Ruby, I don’t expect you to forget Leroy Thezan. I don’t expect you to never speak of him. You loved him. We are going to be husband and wife, and we are going to be best friends and confidants. You can talk to me about him anytime, Ruby. Anytime! But the past is gone and you can’t bring it back. Life must be lived now if it is to be lived at all. I know you are strong enough to understand that.’

  His words had a calming effect on me. I remembered the day he’d proposed to me at Lake Pontchartrain and how I’d felt so confident then that our marriage would be strong. I looked into his kind eyes and knew that he understood things about me that nobody else did.

  I slipped my hand down his shoulder and grasped his fingers in mine. ‘I’ve kept too much to myself in my life and all the secrets have caught up with me.’

  He nodded. ‘We’ll have no secrets between us from now on, Ruby. We’ll tell each other everything.’ He slipped his hand from mine and stood up. ‘Now, go get dressed and come down. I’ll be waiting for you. Never mind about anybody else. Just think about me. I’m the one you are marrying.’

  His smile gave me confidence. When he’d left the room, I swung my legs to the floor and stood up, still unsteady on my feet. I picked up my purse and took out a key, then opened the wardrobe to find the trunk I had stowed away there. I unlocked it and brushed my hand over the red beaded gown that I’d worn on stage for one of my Mardi Gras numbers. I picked up the strapless bra and G-string that I had modelled for Leroy.

  ‘Goodbye, my love,’ I whispered. ‘I’m glad we made each other happy. But I have to go on living now. I will never forget you.’

  I closed the trunk, and put on my wedding gown and veil, powdered my face and reapplied my lipstick. Then I picked up my bouquet of orchids and opened the door to the hall.

  Before leaving the room, I turned back for one more glimpse in the mirror. But it was Ruby in her bridal gown who looked
back at me this time. Jewel was gone.

  Not long after our honeymoon, I discovered I was pregnant. The excitement in the Lalande house was palpable when Clifford and I told the family one evening after dinner.

  ‘I’m to become a grandmother!’ Helen cried, regarding us fondly. ‘Oh, Ruby, what happiness you bring to our family! You and Clifford will be wonderful parents.’

  ‘Of course we will,’ said Clifford, grinning. ‘We’ve been given the best examples to follow.’

  My gaze shifted to Kitty. She had confided in me only a few days before that she couldn’t have children because of a malformation of her womb. Eddie and I were the only ones she had told. I’d wanted to downplay the announcement of my pregnancy, but she wouldn’t hear of it. Now, she reached over to me and squeezed my hand. ‘I’m so excited I’m going to be an aunt,’ she said sincerely. ‘I want to be known as “Crazy Aunt Kitty”!’

  Maman and Mae had come to live with us now that Kitty and Eddie had moved into their own home. After hearing the news, Maman sat lost in a happy dream, her eyes glistening.

  ‘Maman, are you glad that you are going to be a grandmother?’ I asked.

  A radiant glow came to her face. ‘Oh, yes, Ruby, I couldn’t be happier or prouder.’

  Her words should have been a joy to hear, but they stirred an uneasy feeling in me. Perhaps it was because I could never forget that I had a secret past and that if Maman ever found out about it, it would grieve her deeply. No matter what happiness I enjoyed in the present, that secret would always be my cross to bear.

  Maman and Helen set about turning one of the upstairs bedrooms into a nursery. Each day they called me up there to see a new detail that had been added: the nursery-rhyme wallpaper and matching curtains; the folding change table with a quilted cover; the bassinette with a skirt decorated with ruffles and flounces made from leftover material from my wedding dress. It should have been the happiest time in my life, yet the uneasiness I’d felt at the announcement of my pregnancy continued to plague me.

  One morning I woke up convinced that the baby had died in my womb overnight.

  ‘Clifford,’ I cried, shaking him awake. ‘The baby’s not moving. I can’t feel it!’

  Clifford sat up, a distressed look on his face. He pressed his ear to my stomach. ‘Darling, I’m sure there is a little flutter in there. But I’ll take you to Doctor Monfort this morning anyway.’

  Our family doctor was quick to reassure me. ‘It’s natural that you are anxious with your first baby, but all is well and your pregnancy is progressing normally.’

  Despite his assurances, from that day onwards a cold fear dampened my joy. I was haunted by the possibility of losing my child. Anytime the baby was quiet for a long period of time, I panicked. A repetitive nightmare disturbed my dreams: I was walking towards the baby’s bassinette, but when I looked inside it there was Leroy’s mangled body.

  Doctor Monfort could do little to help my nerves, and Clifford enlisted the aid of an Uptown obstetrician, Doctor Delcambre, who specialised in high risk pregnancies and was the brother of one of the white lawyers he’d worked with in the Urban League.

  ‘Maman,’ I said one afternoon when we were in the sitting room together knitting booties, ‘I hope you don’t mind that I won’t be having the baby at home with Doctor Monfort. I know you would like that, but Doctor Delcambre feels it best that I go to his private clinic ahead of my confinement.’

  Maman put down her knitting and slipped her hand into mine. ‘My darling, the most important consideration is you and the baby. That’s all. Nothing else matters.’

  Helen gave me a book about an abolitionist named Dale Thomas Owen to take my mind off my worries. I read it religiously in bed every night before going to sleep.

  One night, when Clifford was getting into bed beside me, he glanced at the book. ‘Is it interesting?’

  I nodded. ‘Dale Thomas Owen reminds me of you. Despite all the setbacks he suffered, including being shunned by his social circle and threatened by those who were making money out of the misery of slavery, he never let fear or loneliness sway him from his cause.’

  He took the book from me. ‘Dale is a good name for a boy, don’t you think? It sounds fresh and new. If the baby is a boy, I want him to be fearless, brave and confident. The world needs men with characteristics like that.’

  Our eyes met and we smiled.

  ‘I want him to be like that too,’ I said. ‘That’s exactly the kind of man I would want him to grow up to be. Someone like you.’

  On the day I went into labour, I barely registered the pain in my body because the racking anguish in my mind was so great. All I could think about was the child. Was he or she alive?

  It was only after several excruciating pushes, when I heard a cry sing out from a healthy set of lungs and the nurse showed me a rosy baby boy, that the darkness I’d felt during my pregnancy lifted and I cried with joy.

  ‘He’s so handsome,’ I said. ‘So very handsome. My darling baby boy!’

  Indeed to me, Dale was the most charming child ever born. From the time we took him home, I couldn’t stop looking at him. Even when he didn’t need to be fed, I’d go to his bassinette to gaze at him. He had a full head of curls, and followed my every movement with his big curious eyes.

  If I was enamoured, then Clifford was smitten. When I saw him cradle Dale in his arms and coo to him softly, I fell in love with my husband and knew I had been right to marry him, despite all the grief that had besieged me at the time.

  Dale seemed equally captivated by Clifford. When his father danced around him, making monkey faces, Dale would point at him and gurgle with delight.

  ‘I can’t wait until he can ride a bike,’ said Clifford one evening as we were having supper. ‘I’ll take him riding in Audubon Park.’

  I looked over my teacup at him. ‘He hasn’t started walking yet . . . and you might have some competition from our mothers. I hardly get to see Dale now the weather is warming. His grandmothers make several trips a day around the neighbourhood with him in his pram simply to show him off.’

  ‘All right,’ Clifford said, picking up our dishes to take them to the kitchen, ‘I’ll try to be patient. But let’s not wait too long before we have another one. I like being a father and motherhood becomes you.’

  TWENTY-FIVE

  Ruby

  Shortly after Dale’s third birthday, I discovered that I was pregnant again. I waited until the following day to tell Clifford the news. He was a morning person and I wasn’t, but I made an effort to get up early so we could spend some time together before he left for his office. I watched him pour maple syrup over his waffles, and admired his freshly shaven face and neatly combed hair. From the back porch came the clackety-clack sound of Helen at her typewriter, writing articles for the Urban League newsletter, and the smell of smoke from her cigarette. I’d asked Mae and Philomena to mind Dale in the kitchen because I had something important to discuss with my husband.

  As I looked at Clifford, I was filled with a triumphant joy. It had taken longer than anticipated for me to get pregnant again and I knew my announcement would make him happy. A rush of excitement ran through me and suddenly the words came bubbling out as if I could no longer contain them. ‘Darling, I’m expecting!’

  Clifford looked up, his fork paused mid-air. He stared at me with an expression of awe before a smile broke out over his face. ‘Ruby! Really?’ He sprang up from his chair and embraced me. ‘How long have you known?’

  ‘Doctor Delcambre confirmed it yesterday afternoon, but you looked tired last night so I decided to wait and tell you this morning.’

  ‘Oh, Ruby! This is such good news!’ he said, squeezing me harder. ‘I should have guessed it. You’ve been glowing.’

  ‘What would you like?’ I asked him. ‘Another boy or a girl?’

  He shook his head. ‘I don’t care. Either is great as far as I’m concerned. When do you want to tell the others?’

  It seemed strange to me, look
ing back on it, how I noticed at that precise moment that the sound of the typewriter had ceased. Then I heard Mae scream. The grin slipped from Clifford’s face.

  My first thought was that Dale had fallen from his chair. I leaped up and rushed to the kitchen. The maids weren’t there but my little boy was sitting securely at the table with jam on his cheeks and a bewildered expression in his eyes. Why had they left him by himself? It wasn’t like Mae or Philomena to be so careless.

  Through the open door I could see Mae standing on the back porch with her hand over her mouth. Philomena was calling for Clifford to come. He ran past me and out to the porch. ‘Mother!’ he shouted.

  I followed and my heart stopped when I saw Helen lying on the porch floor cradled in Philomena’s arms. Her eyelids were flickering and a trickle of blood seeped from her mouth. Had she fallen and hit her head? She was mumbling, struggling to tell Clifford something. Whatever was happening, she was in pain and that snapped me back to attention.

  ‘Call an ambulance!’ I told Mae. ‘Then go get Maman and ask her to look after Dale.’

  The ambulance arrived, and Clifford and I followed it in the car to the hospital. Eddie and Kitty arrived soon after.

  The doctor came out with a grave look on his face and ushered us into a private room. I heard Kitty gasp, ‘Oh no!’ as he shut the door behind us.

  ‘I’m very sorry. Mrs Lalande passed away a few minutes ago,’ he told us. ‘It appears she suffered a sudden and devastating stroke.’

  I grasped Clifford’s hand. His face had turned ashen. It was hard to believe that he’d been looking radiantly happy only a short time before.

  I placed my other hand on my stomach, sorry that the announcement of my pregnancy would forever be associated with that terrible day.

 

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