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"Go to bed with any of them?"
"Jeanne!"
"I'm sorry. I thought I could ask. I thought we could be sisters, better sisters than you and your twin were."
"That wouldn't be hard to do," I said, laughing. I stared at her a moment. "No," I said. "I didn't." I knew if I told her the truth, I would burst into tears myself and this whole wonderful world Paul had created for Pearl and me would come crumbling down around us.
She looked relieved. "Then I'm right to wait until we're married?"
"If it feels right, it's right," I told her. She seemed satisfied for the moment. I was troubled giving advice to anyone when it came to romance and marriage. Who was I to do so?
The next--day, Jeanne came over to announce her engagement to James Pitot. They had set a date. Once Paul heard that, he declared the wedding would be at Cypress Woods if she liked. She gazed at me with the expression of a coconspirator and cried her delight.
"Ruby will help me plan the wedding, won't you, Ruby?"
"Of course," I said.
"Oh, Paul," she said, "you did more than marry the woman you always loved and give us a beautiful little niece. You gave me a wonderful new sister."
We hugged and kissed and I hoped I had said the right things and Jeanne was destined for a good and happy marriage. In any case, we had a great family event to plan. It seemed Paul was right: Our lives would be full of excitement and never dull.
That evening Paul knocked on the adjoining door and came into my bedroom as I was sitting in front of my vanity mirror brushing out my hair. I was already in my nightgown. He was in his light blue silk pajamas, one of the birthday presents I had bought for him.
"I just got off the phone with Dad. He says his home now resembles an army command post. They have already drawn up long lists of guests and started to plan the preliminaries. He swears it's like preparing for battle."
I laughed.
"I wish we could have had a grand wedding," he said. "You deserved nothing less than to be treated like some Cajun princess."
"I am treated that way, Paul."
"Yes, but . ." His eyes fixed on mine in the mirror. "How has it been for you? I mean . . . are you really happy, Ruby?"
"Yes, Paul. I am."
He nodded and then shifted from a deep, pensive look to a soft, gentle smile. "Anyway, thank you for taking my sisters to your heart so quickly and making them your family, too. They adore you, and Mother. . . Mother has learned to do more than simply accept. I know she respects you now."
I wondered how he could make such a statement. Was he blind to the cold, gray look in his mother's eyes whenever she set them on me or was he so determined to be happy that he ignored it and lived in an illusion himself?
"I hope so, Paul," I said, but not with much conviction.
"She does," he insisted. "Well, good night." He stepped up to me and kissed me softly on the neck. He hadn't kissed me like that since we had married. The warmth of his lips radiated in waves over my shoulders and down to my breasts. I closed my eyes and when I opened them again, I saw him still there, his lips inches from my face.
"Good night," I said in a broken whisper.
"Good night." He turned quickly and left my room.
For a moment I just stared after him. I took a deep breath and got ready for bed.
That night I tossed and turned for hours before finally falling into an exhaustion and sleep.
Three days later the happy bubble that had settled over Cypress Woods was shattered with the arrival of Gisselle. She and two of her boyfriends from her ritzy prep school came speeding up our driveway, the horn of their Cadillac convertible blaring. It brought all the servants and myself to the front window. We thought it was some emergency. James looked at me with surprise.
"It's only my twin sister," I said. "Don't bother yourself, James. Ill greet her and show her in."
"Very good, madame," he said, and happily retreated. I went out to the gallery to face them.
It had been some time since Gisselle and I had last set eyes on each other. The two boys she was with were handsome, slim young men, one with dark brown hair and the other quite blond with blue eyes and a very fair complexion. He was the driver. They both wore navy blue blazers with their fraternity emblems embossed in gold on their breast pockets. The dark-haired young man stepped out first and held the door for Gisselle, sweeping himself into a European bow as if she were royalty emerging. The laughter on the lips suggested they had been doing some drinking or maybe smoking pot. I had no reason to expect Gisselle had changed or grown up any since we last saw each other, but I had hoped for some miraculous metamorphosis.
