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"Of course," I said. "Right this way."
"We'll be here just one night. Beau has brought all the paperwork and documents for you to sign, right, Beau?" "Yes," he said, his eyes still fixed on me.
"I want to get it over with as soon as possible so I don't have to make any more trips out to the swamps," she added, reprimanding Beau with a sharp look.
"We'll do whatever we have to do to move things along to everyone's satisfaction, I'm sure," I said.
"You sound just like Daphne. Doesn't she, Beau? Don't become a snobby rich woman, dear sister," she warned, and then threw her head back to laugh. I looked at Beau, who smiled softly and shook his head.
"All right, James. Lead the way," Gisselle commanded, and we all walked into the house.
Beau exclaimed his awe at the size of the foyer, the woodwork and the chandeliers. The more he complimented me on the house, the more irritated Gisselle grew.
"You have been in finer houses in the Garden District, Beau. I don't know why you're pretending to be so impressed."
"I'm not pretending, cherie," he said softly. "You must give Ruby and Paul credit for building a very dramatic house in the bayou."
"Don't you just love it when he uses French?" Gisselle squealed. "All right. I'll admit this is quite a shack," she said, and laughed. "James? Where is he?"
"Waiting for you with your things at the top of the stairway, Gisselle," I said, nodding toward it.
"Oh. Don't you have a maid, too?"
"All of my servants will be at your beck and call," I assured her. She smirked and started up the stairway.
"It is a beautiful house in a beautiful location," Beau said.
We stared at each other for a moment, silence thicker than fog coming between us.
"Let me bring you to . . . Pearl," I said softly. His eyes brightened with anticipation. I led him out to the patio, where Mrs. Flemming had Pearl playing in a playpen.
"Mrs. Flemming, this is my brother-in-law, Beau Andreas," I said quickly.
"How do you do?" Beau extended his hand, his eyes really riveted on Pearl.
"Pleased to meet you," Mrs. Flemming said.
"And this is Pearl," I murmured. He was already moving toward her. He knelt down by the playpen, and she stopped fiddling with her toy to look into his face. Could one so tiny and young recognize her true father? Did she see something in his eyes, something of herself instantly? Unlike her curious look at other people that usually died in a flash, she studied Beau and formed a tiny smile on her diminutive lips, and when he reached over to lift her out of the playpen, she didn't cry. He kissed her cheek and hair, and she reached out to touch his hair and his face as if she wanted to be sure he wasn't a dream.
I couldn't keep the tears from filling my eyes, but I blinked them back before they could spill over my lids. Beau turned toward me, his face radiant.
"She's beautiful," he whispered. I bit down on my lower lip and nodded. Then I gazed at Mrs. Flemming, who was staring with great interest, a faint smile in her face. Her age and her wisdom were giving her signals that confused and intrigued her, I was sure.
"She likes you a great deal, monsieur," Mrs. Flemming said.
"I have a way with young women," Beau teased, and put Pearl back into her playpen. She began to cry instantly, which brought a look of astonishment to Mrs. Flemming's face.
"Now, behave, Pearl," I chastised gently. "I want to show Uncle Beau the house."
Without another word I led him toward the pool and the cabana.
"Ruby," he said after we were sufficiently away. "You did such a wonderful thing. She's more precious than I ever could have imagined. No wonder Paul is so taken with her. She looks just like you."
"No, she has more of your features," I insisted. "Here, as you can see, is our pool. Paul wants to build a tennis court over there next month. We have a dock on the canal over there," I said, pointing. Only by talking and concentrating on other things could I keep myself from bursting out in tears. But Beau wasn't listening.
"Why didn't I battle with my parents? Why didn't I run away, too? I should have fled to the bayou with you and started a new life."
"Beau, don't talk foolishness. What would you have done? Sat on the roadside and sold handicrafts with me?"
