Pearl in the Mist

  "It's too soon to tell," I replied modestly.

  "Well, I'm no art critic, but I know the value of good art on the market, of course." He focused his gaze intently on me for a moment and then smiled and stepped closer. "I was hoping to have a short tete-atete with both you and Gisselle today. I've already spoken to your sister, who has begged me to use my influence with Daphne to permit her to remain and return to public school here in New Orleans. Apparently, if I win her that favor, she will accept me into the family with open arms.

  "And now," he said, inching toward me, "what can I do to win the same acceptance from you?"

  "I have no requests for anything for myself, but if you want to do something to please me, get Daphne to move Uncle Jean back into his private room."

  "Ah ha, a selfless demand. You are what you seem to be after all, aren't you, La Ruby? . . . A spotless jewel, genuine, virtuous. Are you as innocent as you appear, as innocent as the flowers and animals in your pictures?"

  "I'm no angel, Bruce, but I don't like to see anyone in unnecessary pain, and that's what Uncle Jean is in right now. If you want to do something good, help him."

  He smiled and reached out to touch my hair. I cringed and started to step back, but he put his hand on my arm just above the elbow.

  "You and Gisselle are twins," he said in a voice barely above a whisper, "but a man would have to be blind not to see the differences. I'd like to be someone you can love and trust. You know, I've always admired you, La Ruby. But you've been tossed from one world to another, and just when you needed a true guardian, you lost him. Will you let me be your guardian, your protector and champion? I'm a man of great taste. I can make you into the princess you deserve to be. Trust me," he said, raising his hand to my shoulder. He was so close I could see the tiny beads of sweat over his upper lip and smell the aroma of the last cigar he smoked. He held me firmly in his grasp and then brought his lips to my forehead. I heard him inhale as he took in the scent of my hair. I let him embrace me, but I didn't return his affection.

  "That's all right," he said, feeling my stiffness and stepping back. "I don't blame you for being cautious. I'm the new man in your life and you don't really know all that much about me. But I intend to spend as much time with you as you will permit so we can get to know each other as intimately as possible. Will that be all right?"

  "You're my stepmother's new husband-to-be," I said, as if that were enough of an answer.

  He nodded. "I'll speak to Daphne. Maybe I can find a sensible financial arrangement and get her to do what you want. I can't make promises, but I'll try for you."

  "Thank you."

  "La Ruby," he said with that deep, licentious smile on his lips. He looked around again. "You have a nice hideaway. After I've married Daphne, perhaps you will let me share it with you from time to time, n'est-ce pas?"

  I nodded, even though I detested the thought.

  "Good," he said. "We're going to be a wonderful family, even more highly respected than we are now, and you and your sister will be the creme de la creme of New Orleans. That's a promise," he said. "I'll let you go back to your wonderful work. We'll speak later."

  I watched him leave and then sat down because my heart was still thumping so hard, I thought I might faint.

  Despite Bruce's promise, nothing more was said about Uncle Jean during the days between Christmas and New Year's Eve. Feeling trapped by Daphne's offer, I tried on a number of occasions to get Gisselle to reconsider her demand to remain in New Orleans.

  "You've made new friends, and they all look up to you and depend on you now," I told her just before we were about to go to sleep. It was the night before New Year's Eve. "You're their leader."

  "You can have that honor," she replied.

  "But think of what you can do now that you'll be walking. And there's the Valentine's dance coming up too."

  "Peachy. The Valentine's dance. Don't get too close and don't hold hands too long. And just when you get to meet someone, you have to say goodbye. And that stupid curfew, even on the weekends."

  "Daphne's going to permit us to go off the campus. We'll meet boys in the city."

  "You wouldn't do that," she said. "You're too head over heels in love with Beau. Wait a minute." She scrutinized me with her suspicious eyes. "Why are you trying to get me to go back to Greenwood? What's going on?"

  "Whenever you want, I'll take trips into Baton Rouge with you," I promised, ignoring her question.

  "There's more to this, Ruby. What is it? You better tell me. One thing's for sure, I'll never go back if you don't tell me the truth."

  I sighed and leaned back against her door jamb.

  "I asked Daphne to move Uncle Jean back to his private room. He's nothing more than a vegetable now. He's lost all desire to live, to communicate. He's retreated into his own world."

  "So what? He was nuts anyway."

  "He wasn't. He was making progress. If he had a loving family around him again . . ."

  "Oh, stop being Miss Goody Two-Shoes. What does that have to do with my returning to

  Greenwood?"

  "Daphne said if I got you to go back, she would return Uncle Jean to his room."

  "I thought there was something behind your sweettalk. Well, you can forget it," she said, turning away to look at herself in her vanity mirror. "I'm not going back to Greenwood. Right now I'm enjoying John, and I don't intend to give him up just so my crazy uncle can have his own room in a nut house." She smiled. "Daphne's going to let me stay for sure then. She doesn't want me to upset the apple cart. Good. Thanks for telling me."

  "Gisselle . ."

  "I said I'm not going back. That's final," she hammered. "Now stop thinking about sad things and help me plan out our New Year's Eve party. I've invited nearly twenty friends. Claudine and Antoinette are coming over to help decorate the living room tomorrow. For refreshment, I thought we'd have those twelve-foot po'boy sandwiches. We'll work up a fruit punch and wait until Daphne and Bruce leave. Then we'll spike it with rum. What do you think?"

  "I don't care," I said glumly.

  "You better not be a lump of swamp mud around here tomorrow night. I'm warning you not to spoil the fun."

  "That's the last thing in the world I would want to do, Gisselle, spoil your fun. Heaven forbid," I spit out, then left her room before I pulled out each and every strand of hair on her head.

  16

  A Brave Front

  .

  Despite my gloomy feelings, I tried not to walk

  about with downcast eyes and let everyone know just how unhappy I was. Gisselle's friends were very excited about the New Year's Eve party, and I had never seen Daphne so friendly and outgoing toward them. She came into the living room in the afternoon and made suggestions for the decorating. Of course, all the girls were in awe of her. I could see from the way they gazed at her that they thought she was akin to a movie star: beautiful, rich, elegant, and full of style.

  But Gisselle kept herself the center of attention, revealing the miraculous recovery of her limbs and promising to dance for the first time since the accident. She got Edgar to bring in a ladder and then had the girls string streamers from one side of the ceiling to the other. They blew up balloons and placed them in a net to be released at midnight. While they worked, they gossiped about the boys who would be attending the party, and Gisselle described the girls of Greenwood, bragging about the things she had taught them concerning sex and boys. From time to time, she shifted her eyes toward me to see if I would contradict her, but I was barely listening after a while.

  I was looking forward to spending the evening with Beau. I took my time choosing my dress and settled on a strapless black velvet gown with a deep, sweetheart neckline. The dress fit snugly at the waist and then had a full skirt that ended about six inches above my ankles. I had planned to wear a string of pearls around my neck but decided at the last minute simply to wear Beau's chain and ring, excited by the way the gleaming jewelry heightened that part of my bosom and cleavage
. When I closed my eyes, I could almost feel his fingers softly gliding down, over my collarbone toward my breasts.

  I put on a pair of delicate gold and pearl hoop earrings and decided to wear the ring that Louis had given me. Gisselle and I had each been given half a dozen different perfumes. I chose one that suggested the fresh aroma of blossoming roses. I had decided to wear my hair down but pinned back at the sides. My bangs needed a bit of trimming and I smiled to myself, recalling how Grandmere Catherine used to do it for me and even sit talking to me for what seemed like hours and hours while she brushed my long ruby hair, telling me again and again how she used to do the same thing for my mother.

  Gisselle surprised me by choosing a dress similar to mine in dark blue. She bedecked herself with far more jewelry, wearing two strings of pearls, long dangling pearl earrings, a gold bracelet on one wrist and Bruce's charm bracelet Christmas gift on the other, as well as half a dozen rings spaced over her two hands. She wore a gold anklet as well. She left her hair down as well, not even pinning the sides, and she had caked on makeup, eyeliner, and lipstick so thick, she could kiss for hours before reaching her skin.

  "How do I look?" she asked after coming to my doorway.

  "Very nice," I replied. I knew that if I criticized her she would only resent it and rant and rave about how jealous I was.

  "'Nice'? What's that like, 'neat'?" she said, grimacing. She studied me a moment, making comparisons. "Why don't you put on more makeup? I can still see those freckles on your cheeks."

  "They don't bother me," I said. "Or Beau," I added pointedly.

  "They used to," she remarked, her eyes twinkling with mischief. When I didn't bite, she stopped smiling. "I'm going down."

  "Be right there," I said. A short while later, I found her seated in her wheelchair in the center of the living room, gazing about with satisfaction.

  "This is going to be the greatest party ever," she declared. "You'll never forget this New Year's Eve." She stared at me a moment. "Did you ever have a good New Year's Eve in the swamps?"

  "Yes."

  "Doing what, fishing?" she asked disdainfully.

  "No. We would have a party in the town. All of Main Street would be closed down, and the merchants as well as other people would set out food. There were fireworks and continuous music making for a grand fais dodo."

  "Fais dodo, I forgot. You danced in the streets?" she asked.

  I nodded, remembering. "It was as if we had all become one family, celebrating," I said wistfully.

  "Sounds . . . stupid," she said, but I could see she was trying to convince herself.

  "You don't need to spend a lot of money and have expensive clothing to have a good time, Gisselle. A real good time starts here," I said, pointing to my heart.

  "I would have pointed someplace else," she retorted, and laughed.

  "What's so funny?" Daphne asked as she and Bruce entered the living room. They were dressed and ready to leave. Bruce did look handsome in his tuxedo, and I had to admit that Daphne was never more striking. She wore a long narrow gown in the deepest, richest burgundy color that had a beaded rhinestone bodice and a bolero jacket with a beaded collar. The bodice of the gown dipped in one graceful swoop over the tops of her breasts, revealing just enough cleavage to be enticing. She wore no necklace to take away from the jeweled clothing, but she had rhinestone earrings. Her hair was up in a French knot with bangs. "Cajun New Year's Eve," Gisselle quipped.

  "Oh," she said, nodding as if to say she understood why that would be a topic for humor. "Well, we just stopped by to wish you two a happy new year. Remember, I don't want to see a lot of drinking and wildness. Respect the house. Enjoy yourselves, but be ladies," she added.

  "Of course we will, Mother. You have a good time too," Gisselle said.

  Daphne looked at me. "You both look very nice," she said.

  "Thank you," I replied.

  "Can I give my soon-to-be stepdaughters a New Year's Eve kiss now?" Bruce asked.

  "Sure," Gisselle said. He leaned over and kissed her quickly on the cheek. She had closed her eyes, expecting a kiss on the lips. He approached me, smiling, and put his hands on my shoulders.

  "You are as beautiful as always," he said softly, and then leaned in to kiss me. I turned just in time to direct him from my lips to my cheek. He stared at me for a moment and then laughed.

  "Happy new year, girls," he cried, then joined Daphne to leave for their gala affair.

  "Good riddance," Gisselle muttered. "Let's have a drink alone before the others arrive," she said and wheeled herself to our bar. "What do you want, rum and coke?" She started to get up to make them.

  "I'll pour my own drinks, thank you," I said, recalling how Gisselle tried to get me drunk before.

  "Good. Make mine too then," she said, sitting down again. I did so and handed it to her. "Well, dear Sister, here's to a happier year than the one we just had. May it be filled with fun, fun, fun."

  "For everyone we love," I added. She shrugged.

  "Sure, for everyone we love." We drank and, a moment later, heard the doorbell.

  "Here we go," Gisselle cried, wheeling herself toward the doorway. She was keeping herself in the wheelchair just so she could make her standing and walking look that much more dramatic later.

  All of Gisselle's guests arrived a little early. Word about the party's prospects had spread quickly. By the time Beau appeared, everyone was there, and most of them had had more than one drink. The music was blaring, and some of the food had already been eaten.

  "You're even more beautiful than I imagined you would be," Beau told me when I greeted him at the door. We kissed and then entered the party. Everyone was talking loudly; some had already had more to drink than they could tolerate and were acting silly.

  "Looks like one of Gisselle's typical parties," Beau cried over the noise. We danced, ate something, and had our drinks along with everyone else.

  At ten o'clock, as she had planned, Gisselle had the music turned down and announced her intention to dance for the first time since the accident. John stood by her as she pretended to struggle out of the chair. She fell into his arms, regained her composure, and took what she wanted everyone to think were her first dance steps. The party guests clapped and whistled as Gisselle and John moved over the dance floor. Not long afterward, Gisselle told one of the girls to turn the lights low and the real partying began. Everyone paired off.

  "I don't care where you go in the house," Gisselle announced, "as long as it doesn't look like you've been there. The upstairs is off-limits, of course."

  "Let's get away from all this," Beau said. When no one was looking, we slipped out. He paused, wondering where we should go. I pulled him forward and we scampered up the stairs and into my room.

  "I don't want to spend my New Year's Eve with them anyway," I told Beau. "They're like strangers to me now."

  "Me too," he said. We kissed and then both of us gazed at my bed. I sat down and Beau sat beside me.

  "I can put on my radio," I said. I got up quickly and turned the dial, searching for a good station. I don't know why I was suddenly so nervous, but I was. My fingers trembled around the knob and I felt a tingling in my stomach. It was almost as if Beau and I were on our first date. I finally settled on a station that was broadcasting from the grand ballroom of one of the downtown hotels. We could hear the excitement of the people dancing as well as the music. The announcer came on to tell everyone how close we were to midnight.

  "Why is New Year's Eve so special?" 1 asked.

  Beau thought a moment.

  "I suppose it gives people a chance to hope for better things." He laughed. "I used to have this toy, a magic slate. You wrote or drew on it and then, just by pulling up the plastic cover, everything you did disappeared and you could start new. Maybe everyone feels that on New Year's Eve: They can pull up the magic sheet and rewrite their lives."

  "I wish I could. But I wish I could go back much further back than just one year."

  He nod
ded, his eyes soft and sympathetic.

  "Well-to-do young people like Gisselle and myself, like all those downstairs drinking too much, couldn't even begin to understand how hard your life has been, Ruby." He reached up and took my hand, his eyes still fixed on me. "You're like a wildflower. The rest of us have been cared for, nourished, given the best of everything, while you've had to struggle. But you know what, Ruby? The struggle has given you more strength and more beauty. Just like that wildflower, you've blossomed high and above the ordinary, the weeds. You're special. I always knew you were, right from the first moment I set eyes on you."

  "Oh Beau, that's so sweet."

  He pulled me toward him and I let myself fall against him, our lips meeting, his hands around my shoulders. Then, gently, gracefully, he turned himself and me so that we were side by side on my bed. He kissed my hair, my forehead, my eyes, the tip of my nose, before pressing his lips to mine again. When our tongues touched, I felt myself soften everywhere.

  "You smell so good," he whispered. "I feel like I'm standing in the middle of a garden."

  He dropped his hands below my shoulders and found the zipper on my dress. As he lowered it and the garment became loose around my bosom, I moaned and let my head fall back to the pillow. He brought his lips to my chin and then moved over my throat and down into the valley between my breasts.

  "Beau, we're not being careful," I whispered, but I held him to me as if I wanted to disagree with myself and contradict everything I knew was right.

  "I know," he said. "We will," he promised, but he started to slip my dress over my shoulders and down my arms. I let the bodice fall to my waist. Beau sat back and peeled off his sports jacket, loosened his tie, and unbuttoned his shirt while I stared up at him, his face now illuminated by the moonlight that came pouring through my window. He looked ghostlike, part of a dream, my wildest fantasy personified. I closed my eyes and didn't open them again until I felt him over me, his shirt stripped off. He toyed with my bra until he had it unfastened and then his lips were against my naked breasts, kissing each of them softly, until I pulled him away and put my lips to his.