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"Try. Please," I begged him. He nodded. Then he leaned forward quickly and kissed me. A moment later, like some memory from the past that had flowed through my thoughts, he was gone.
Rather than go right back to Gisselle, I went out to the garden. It was still a very beautiful day with the azure sky looking like an artist's canvas, sprinkled here and there with dabs of puffy white clouds. I closed my eyes and I might have fallen asleep had I not heard Daddy's voice.
"Somehow I thought I would find you out here," he declared. "I took one look at that blue sky and said to myself, Ruby's somewhere outside enjoying the late afternoon."
"It is a pretty day, Daddy. How was your day?"
"Good. Ruby," he said, sitting down across from me and looking very serious, "I've made a decision. I want you and Gisselle to attend a private school next year. She needs special attention and. . frankly, she needs you. Although she'd never confess that."
"Private school?" I thought about it, thought about leaving the few friends I had made, and especially, thought about leaving Beau. Things were still difficult between us because of what Daphne had told his parents, but we were finding ways to see each other from time to time.
"It would be better for everyone if you two attended a live-in, private school," he added, his meaning quite clear. "I will miss you both terribly, but I'll try to be there often," he promised. won't be far from New Orleans. Will you do it?"
"A school full of snobby rich Creoles?" I asked.
"Probably," he admitted. "But somehow, I don't think you're afraid of that anymore. You'll change them before they change you," he predicted. "It's the kind of place where you'll have great balls and parties, travel excursions, the best teachers and facilities, and most importantly, you'll get back to your art. And Gisselle will have the special care she needs."
"All right, Daddy," I said. "If you think that would be best."
"I do. I knew I could count on you. So," he said. "What's your sister doing? How come she let you get some free time?" he joked.
"She's probably brushing her hair and talking on the phone about our male visitor," I said.
"Male visitor?"
I had never told him about Paul, and when I began, he surprised me by telling me he already knew.
"Gabrielle wasn't one to hide such a thing," he said. "I'm sorry I missed him."
"He'll be back and we promised to visit someday," I said. "I'd like that. I haven't been to the bayou ever since. . . ever since."
He got up.
"I'd better go see my other princess," he declared. "Coming?"
"I just want to sit here a while longer, Daddy."
"Sure," he said. He leaned over and kissed me and then he went back in to see my sister.
I sat back and looked over the grounds, but 1 didn't see the beautifully manicured flowers and trees. Instead, I saw the bayou. I saw Paul and 1, the two of us, young and innocent, in a pirogue, Paul poling, me leaning back, the Gulf breeze flowing over my face and lifting strands of my hair. We turned a corner and the marsh hawk was there on a branch looking down at us. He lifted his wings as if to greet us and welcome us into the secret world that lay within our most cherished dreams and deep down in the softness of our hearts.
And then he dove off the branch and flew above the trees toward the blue sky and left us alone, drifting toward tomorrow.
