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"The thought of such a big yes terrifies me!" she exclaimed. I had to laugh. "It's not funny, Ruby. I lay awake nights just tormenting myself over it."
"No, it isn't funny. You're right. I shouldn't laugh."
"What made you finally decide to marry Paul?" she asked.
If she only knew the truth, she wouldn't be so sisterly, I feared.
"I mean, I don't know what love is, really is. I have had crushes on so many boys, and you remember I used to go with Danny Morgan."
"I remember."
"But he became such an . . an idiot. James is different. James is . ."
"What? Jeanne," I said.
"Caring and considerate, loving and gentle. We haven't done it yet, you know," she said, blushing. "He wanted to, of course, and so did I, but I just couldn't without being married. I told him that and he understood. He didn't get angry."
"Because he really does care for you and for what makes you happy," I concluded. "That's love or at least the most important part of it. The other things are important, of course, but there doesn't have to be an explosion of bells every time you kiss. What I have learned is that dependability is the soil in which a long and lasting love is planted, Jeanne."
"But surely there was an explosion of bells for you and Paul. The two of you have been in love for so long. I remember when he couldn't wait to finish dinner just so he could get on his motor scooter and ride out to see you, even if
it was for just ten minutes. It was like . . . like the sun rose and fell on your face.
"I don't have that intense a feeling for James," she admitted, "so I'm afraid I'm going to make a tragic error if I say yes."
"Some people love too much," I said softly.
"Like Adam loved Eve," she replied, nodding. "He ate of the forbidden fruit after Eve had just so he wouldn't lose her. That's what Father Rush told me once."
"Yes, like Adam, then," I said, smiling.
"But that made the story so romantic for me. I want my marriage to be romantic, as romantic as yours is," she said. "And yours is, isn't it, Ruby?"
I stared at her. Was it only her youth that prevented her from seeing the truth in my eyes or was it my own ability to mask reality? I smiled softly.
"Yes, Jeanne, but it doesn't happen overnight, and from the way you speak of James and from what you tell me of him, it sounds like you will have happiness together."
"Oh, I'm so glad you said that!" she exclaimed. "For I value your opinion more than anyone's, even more than Mother's, and certainly more than Toby's."
"I wish you would speak to your mother first," I said. "I don't want to be the one who convinces you of doing something. You have to convince yourself."
In the back of my mind, I could see Gladys Tate hating me for giving intimate advice to her daughter.
"Don't worry, silly," she said. "I am convinced. I just needed to be sure. You were once just as insecure, weren't you?"
"Yes," I confessed.
"You never talk about your life in New Orleans. Did you have many boyfriends there or when you went to private school?"
"No, not many," I said, and looked away quickly. She was alert enough to catch the shifting of my gaze.
"But there was one?"
"There was. . . no one, really," I said, turning back with a smile. "You know how those rich Creole boys can be. .. . They make you promises just to tempt you to go to bed with them and then they rush off for another conquest."
"Did you?" she asked quickly.
"Did I what?"
