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He leaned over, kissed me quickly on the cheek, and then hurried out.
"Now then," I said, turning to Holly. "Why don't you lead the way to the nursery and we'll see what has to be done."
"Yes, ma'am," she said.
If I hadn't lived in the House of Dumas with its servants around me, I would have felt uncomfortable having a maid and a butler and a cook. I was hardly one to put on airs and act like some grand lady, but Paul had really built a mansion and it required household help. There was nothing to do now but assume my place and become the mistress of Cypress Woods.
Letty did remind me of Nina Jackson. She wore the same sort of red kerchief with seven knots whose points all stood straight up, a tignon; but she was much taller and much thinner, surprisingly thin for a cook, with long hands ribbed with veins against her chocolate skin. She had a narrow face with a slender mouth and a thin nose. She told me her eyes were too close together because her mother had been surprised by a rattlesnake the day she became pregnant. I saw she wore a camphor lump around her neck, which I knew was to keep germs away.
Letty was a more formal cook who had learned from educated chefs. The first meal she was preparing for us proved it. We were to begin with oysters Bienville for an appetizer, followed by turtle soup. The main dish was filet de boeuf aux champignons with yellow, squash with peas. For dessert she had prepared an orange creme brulee.
"I noticed you put white powder on our front steps," I told her after we were introduced and had spoken awhile. Her small dark eyes grew smaller.
"I be not workin' in a house without it," she replied firmly.
"I don't mind, Letty. My grandmere Catherine was a traiteur woman," I said, and she brightened, impressed.
"You be holy child, then."
"No, just her granddaughter," I corrected. There was nothing holy about me, I thought.
I heard Paul return and went to greet him. He smiled, but I saw the pain in his eyes.
"They were very upset, weren't they?" I asked.
"Yes," he admitted. "My mother cried and Daddy sulked, but after a while, they'll warm up to the fact and accept it, just like I told you they will," he promised. "Of course, my sisters think it's wonderful," he added quickly. "They'll all be here tomorrow for dinner. I thought we should have the first night to ourselves. I have two of my men outside with the truck waiting to go to the shack for your things."
"Pearl's still sleeping," I said. Paul's report had quickly extinguished the excitement and happiness.
"Go on, lead them in your new car. I'll be here for her when she wakes. Go on. I've got Holly to help," he assured me.
"She'll be afraid, waking up in a strange place."
"But she's not with a stranger," he replied confidently. "She has me." I saw how much he wanted to establish himself as her father as soon as he could.
"Okay. I won't be long," I said.
At the shack I pointed out the pieces of furniture I wanted. I told Paul's men I would take the painting myself. After I put it safely in the car, I went back inside the house and stood in the living room gazing at everything. How empty and sad it looked without the few pieces of furniture. It was as if I were losing Grandmere Catherine once again, cutting off whatever spiritual attachments still bound us together. Her spirit couldn't go with me. It belonged here in these shadows and corners, in the little toothpicklegged shack that had been her mansion, her palace, her home, and mine, too, for so long. All the days here weren't happy ones, but they weren't all sad ones either.
Here she had comforted me during my moments of fear and anxiety. Here she had woven the stories and conjured up my hopes. Here we had worked side by side to make our living. We had laughed and cried and collapsed with fatigue beside each other on the old settee that Grandpere Jack had practically beaten to death in his drunken rages. These walls had soaked up the laughter and the pain and inhaled the wonderful aromas of Grandmere's cooking. From these windows at night, I had looked up at the moon and the stars and dreamt of princes and princesses and wove my own fairy tales.
Good-bye, I thought. Finally good-bye to childhood and all the precious innocence that kept me from seeing and believing there was any real cruelty in this world. I thought I had moved into Wonderland at Cypress Woods. So much of it seemed too wonderful to be real. But here was my true
Wonderland. Here I had felt the special magic and here I had done some of my best art.
Tears trickled down my cheeks. I wiped them away quickly, took a deep breath, and hurried out of the house, down the steps of the gallery, and into my car. Without looking back, I left my past behind me a second and perhaps final time.
Now it was Paul's turn to see the sadness in my face when I returned. He had Holly and James take my thing
s up to my room and to Pearl's nursery and then he took me out back to look at our pool and cabana. He talked about his plans for landscaping, the trees and the flowers and the walkways and fountains he envisioned. He talked about the parties we would have, the music and food. I knew he was talking a blue streak just so I wouldn't have time to brood on the past and be sad.
"There's so much to do here," he concluded. "We don't have time to feel sorry for ourselves anymore."
"Oh, Paul, I hope you're right."
"Of course I'm right," he insisted. We heard someone calling and turned to see that his sisters had arrived.
Jeanne had been in my class when I lived in the bayou. We had always been good friends. She was about an inch or so taller than I was, with dark brown hair and almond-shaped eyes. She looked more like their mother and had her deep, dark complexion, her sharp chin and nearly perfect nose. I always
