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She grunted and tightened her face again, her skin resembling the surface of an alabaster statue. Then she took a deep breath. "I meant what I told your father: Despite what Octavious has done, this is more of a favor for you and your family than it is for me."
"I know, madame."
"In order for this to work, you will have to obey my every command and be very, very cooperative. It will not be pleasant for me, but it will especially not be pleasant for you for the next six or seven months. You will have to endure loneliness and be quieter than a church mouse. Can you do that?"
"I hope so. I think so, madame."
"I hope so, too. If you disobey me just once," she said, "I'll throw you out and leave you to explain your big stomach, understand? It will be messy, but I think I can convince people around here that you made it all up, despite your mother's good reputation. I have money, friends in high places. People depend on my factory for a living. Whose side do you think they will all take? A poor Cajun girl's or mine?"
I didn't reply. She knew the answer.
"So will you obey my rules?" she pursued.
"Yes, madame. But surely I will be able to see my mother."
"Infrequently and very secretly. What I will do," Gladys Tate thought aloud, "is let it be known I am using a traiteur for my own pregnancy. People will believe she is coming here to see me, but you can see no friends, no other visitors, is that clear?"
"Yes, madame. But where will I stay?"
"I will show you your quarters when you return. I want you to return at night, tonight, in fact. Come at midnight. The house will be quiet. I'll have my butler away, and the maids will, of course, be asleep. Just come to the door. Bring very little. You understand?"
"Oui, madame."
"Good," she said, and rose.
I stood. "I am sorry for all this," I said. "Despite what you might think, I did not want it."
"What I think doesn't matter. What has happened and what we can do to repair the damage to my family and yours is all that matters," she lectured.
I nodded. Was she really so generous, so big of heart, to be able to forgive her husband and plan such a solution? I was hopeful, even grateful, but I didn't like the way her eyes skipped away when I tried to catch them. Was it because she didn't want me to see how deep the pain in her was? Or how deep the thirst for vengeance was?
She opened the door and called to Octavious and Daddy. Daddy came in first, and by the look of delight on his face, I saw he was satisfied with the offer he had gotten.
"Is everything settled?" Gladys asked
Octavious. He nodded unhappily.
"I got to get back to work," he said.
"Yes, sir, you go back to work," Daddy told him, and patted him on the back. "I don't want you going bankrupt. Not now." He winked at me. "Come on, Gabriel. We got to tell your mother what we decided here."
"I told her I want her back here at midnight tonight," Gladys said. "She's to come to the front door herself, understand, monsieur?"
"Sure. What's there to understand?" Daddy said. Then he scowled. "If I hear you don't treat her right, the deal's off," he countered.
She simply smirked. It was as if a fly had threatened an alligator.
"Remember," she told me. "No one is to know and you are to bring very little."
"Yes, madame."
Octavious left first. Daddy stood in the entryway a moment and gazed around, nodding.
"Not a bad place to be living in for a few months, eh, Gabriel? I'm sure you'll have good things to eat and all."
"Yes, Daddy. Let's go," I urged. He sauntered to the door and then turned on Gladys.
"Don't think any of this makes it all right. It's still a crime, what he done."
